“T
ake my calls and monitor my e-mails for the next 45 minutes or so,” I told Ayelet.

I’m not that fond of her, but she’s competent enough to manage this; what can she do already, make herself boss for the next 45 minutes and give herself a raise? I almost added, “Messages only, don’t do anything without calling me first.” But that’s insulting.

I put my coat on and walked outside. The bright noon sun had me squinting, I’m not usually out midday, but I think listening to my whims once in a blue moon would serve me well. And right now my whims wanted pastries and space to think; Breadsmith wasn’t a far walk.

I was on edge, thinking about Ari and Purim, as if I knew the right thing but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I walked briskly. What should I do about Purim? Negotiations, I remember reading once, are not a zero-sum game with winners and losers, but a transaction where each side prioritizes what they really want, and concedes other facets that don’t matter as much. Maybe… I took out my phone and called Ari.

“I want to host guests for Shabbos,” I said after he answered.

“It’s Thursday.”

“I know.”

“Sure.”

“And for Purim I’ll do shalach manos, you take care of the seudah.”

Ari went quiet.

“You there?” Did he not like that idea? I thought he wanted to do the seudah, thought I was doing the right thing.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you sure about Purim?”

“Do you not want to do that?” A car honked, making me jump.

“No, it sounds great for me, not for you.”

“No, it totally works for me.”

“What about costumes?”

“Abby says we can’t be matching — you have to have a kid.”

“The great Abby has spoken.”

“So you’re okay with that.”

He paused. “I’ll survive.”

Phew — he took that one pretty easily. Not sure what excuse I’ll use once we do have a kid.

“Great. I’m gonna shop for a Shabbos tablescape now, talk later.”

“Now, during the day? What about work??” There was laughter in Ari’s voice, I could hear it, but I didn’t have an answer for him. Was I just being irresponsible, acting on whims?

“New priorities,” I finally said. “Walking into Breadsmith now, you like their coffee cake, right?”

“That I do.” I could hear his smile.

I bought a scone for myself, coffee cake for Ari, and baguettes for schnitzel sandwiches for supper. Ari has shown me the light: it’s only got to be semi-homemade. Buy everything else, but fry the schnitzel at home and it counts. I walked to my car and called Ayelet.

“Anything going on?” I asked

“Bug Off called to discuss a video, that’s it.”

“Okay, keep me posted. I’ll call again soon.”

Bug Off? A video? Why? The thought only occurred to me once I was behind the wheel. Are they confusing me with a marketing agency again?

(Excerpted from Family First, Issue 632)