And then, one freezing day in January, Meir came home, cheeks flushed as he took off his coat and scarf, all excited about some out-of-town kollel looking for more guys. The rosh kollel, Rabbi Green, had come to recruit, and Meir had caught his eye.

“You know I’ve always wanted to do kiruv, this could be so amazing,” he said over supper that night.

She’d known, of course, but had hoped it would remain a dream.

“Let’s just go for a Shabbos, no commitment or anything,” he’d said a few days later.

They’d gone on a whirlwind trip to see what Oakmont was all about, leaving the kids with her parents. It was winter in Lakewood, but here the streets were green. Tehillah had been charmed by the sprawling Victorian homes and manicured gardens. Seeing Meir’s immediate rapport with Rabbi Green and his family and their guests clinched it. Meir belonged here, she couldn’t take that away.

Tehillah had never really done much kiruv before, save for a short Partners in Torah stint. (Her partner took a vacation in Europe and never reappeared.) But Rabbi Green had assured them that it wasn’t an issue — if you liked people and you loved being frum, you were basically there. Tehillah had almost been convinced.

She was a big girl, after all. So she’d pushed away the doubts, the fears about moving so far away from her family, the painful letting go of the business she’d worked so hard to build. She’d waited a long time to find Meir, to build this life they had together. If Oakmont was where he’d shine, she certainly wouldn’t be the one to hold him back, too weak to let him spread his wings.

And now they were here.

The end of summer BBQ was their big welcome to the community and Tehillah stood, trying to radiate a confidence she didn’t quite feel as she focused on the conversation swirling around her.

“Welcome!” one of the women said to her. “I’m Dena. Pretty overwhelming all this, no?” She waved her hand at the crowd dispersed all over the open grassy expanse.

“I’m so happy to be here,” Tehillah lied. “This is amazing.”

“It is,” Dena said. “But I remember when I first got here. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it all! You seem so chilled.”

The other women nodded in agreement, and Tehillah’s smile was real this time. She was happy they couldn’t read her mind.

She was accepting cones for Donny and Ahuva as a woman came striding forward. Despite the sheitel, she looked different from the kollel wives: late thirties, wearing a trench dress and sunglasses. Tehillah took in the perfect French manicure and brand-new sneakers.

The woman looked at Tehillah and gave a small, knowing smile. “Oh, hiiiii. You’re the new couple? I’m Nina, we’re neighbors. Across the street.” She ran a hand through her long black sheitel. “We were on a Europe tour when you arrived, or I would’ve welcomed you. And we were out of town the Shabbos that you came to check Oakmont out, or we would’ve hosted you. We always host the potential members.”

“Hi, I’m Tehillah, nice to meet—” Tehillah started.

“You know, we were so devastated when the Wachsbergs left,” Nina said, cutting her off. “They were just the most amazing family. I mean, we were all just broken when they said they were moving on.”

Tehillah felt Nina’s eyes scanning her up and down, taking in every detail of her clothing and the little girl in the stroller happily licking sugar. Then Nina gave the slightest shake of her head, as though not finding what she had been looking for.

Tehillah willed the blush on her cheeks to disappear. Why did she feel guilty? She hadn’t asked the Wachsbergs to leave. In fact, maybe Naomi Wachsberg should be the one feeling guilty. Tehillah had spent the last week scrubbing the grime from the Wachsbergs’ old townhouse.

A little girl with blonde hair came running up behind Nina and tugged at her dress.

“Anyway, I’m sure we’ll be seeing lots more of each other, I think Ora needs something. Do be in touch and let me know if you need anything.”

She walked off in a cloud of perfume, following the little girl.

Dena turned to her. “Well, now you’ve met Nina and you can say you were officially welcomed to Oakmont.”

“Nice,” Tehillah said.

“They actually became frum through our kollel, one of our nachas stories,” Dena continued, lowering her voice. “Now they’re from our biggest supporters. They’re kind of behind everything around here.”

Tehillah swallowed hard. She would stay firmly on her side of the street.

Tehillah was plating chicken cutlets and rice for the kids when Meir walked in for supper.

“Hi!” he said. “Wow, you’re amazing. No one would ever guess that we just moved in here last week, supper all made and everything!”

Tehillah smiled, thinking of what it had taken to get the meal on the table. She’d spent her morning in Smithson’s, Oakmont’s local grocery store chain, which boasted a miniscule aisle of kosher products. She had the kids with her, which had made grocery shopping challenging, not to mention searching through the unfamiliar aisles and trying to figure out where everything was. Then, she’d nearly gasped out loud at the price of chicken cutlets. Did people really pay this much? A look in the freezer section told her that Bodek broccoli would be a thing of her dreams for now. Instead, she’d found some precut green beans. In the fridge section, she’d luckily nabbed the last bottle of chalav Yisrael milk.

She’d known moving would be hard, that she’d miss her family and all the conveniences of normal frum life, but nothing had prepared her for that first shopping trip, away from all the products she’d always taken for granted. She’d driven home, dread in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that this had all been one huge mistake crawling through her.

But Meir seemed so happy; he didn’t need to know this right now.

She made herself a plate and sat down across from him at the table.

“So that Nina Berman called, you know, the one from across the street? She invited us for Shabbos. I told her I’d speak to you and get back to her.”

“So nice!” Meir said, taking a bite. “Rabbi Green told me a bit about the Bermans. They’re a major success for the Center, they’ve totally integrated into the community, they’re behind a lot of the frum infrastructure. They were away when we arrived, but I’m looking forward to getting to know them.”

Tehillah took a sip of water. With Meir so excited, there was nothing to do but accept, but something about the way Nina seemed to think her Shabbos invitation was a life buoy cast out to someone drowning at sea made Tehillah nervous. Nina was all about swooping in and saving Tehillah from her overwhelming move.

“I’m sending Milagros across the street first thing tomorrow,” Nina said later that night when Tehilla called to accept the invitation. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to give her to you yet,” she continued, explaining that she’d needed the help settling back in after her trip abroad.

Tehillah firmly declined. Going for a Shabbos meal seemed contact enough.

 Nina’s house was a dream. Tehillah took in the large, clean living spaces, the colorful array of salads on the table, and the beautiful sunlight streaming through the glass windows. Even the kids were behaving themselves; Nina’s daughter Ora was becoming fast friends with Donny, and little Ahuva trailed along behind them in the Bermans’ massive playroom. Tehillah should have been enjoying herself, but if she heard one more thing about the Wachsbergs, she’d scream.

Every conversation with Nina referenced the wonderful Naomi Wachsberg. Even before the meal started, as Nina pulled out a pair of salad servers and began to toss a kale salad, she turned to Tehillah.

“So, how’s it going? Is the unpacking crazy? I wish you would have let Milagros help you. I remember when the Wachsbergs first moved in, I had her help Naomi with everything.”

“I unpack quickly,” Tehillah shrugged. “I’m a professional organizer so that part of this move was easy for me.”

Nina paused, then smiled. “Oh, how adorable.”

Tehillah felt her cheeks grow warm. How could she make Nina understand that it wasn’t “adorable.” She’d been a sought-after professional in Lakewood!

Nina passed the salad to Milagros to bring to the table. “I know this isn’t Shabbos talk,” she continued, “but how’s it going, setting up your classroom?”

“Classroom?”

“Aren’t you taking over for Naomi? I know Josh talked to Rabbi Green about making that part of the contract. We need someone excellent to take Naomi’s place. She was Ora’s morah last year, absolutely phenomenal.”

“Oh, I’m not a teacher,” Tehillah said, feeling an inexplicable heat rising in her cheeks. The nerve of this woman, making assumptions about her!

Nina looked at Tehillah for an extra second. “Too bad,” she said. “Oakmont is the kind of place where we all do what we need to do, you know what I mean?”

And she walked toward the dining room, Tehillah trailing behind her.

At least Meir and Nina’s husband, Josh, hit it off. The two were talking like they’d known each other forever. Tehillah kept herself busy with the children.

Until Nina put her on the spot again.

“So Tehillah, what do you think you can contribute here in Oakmont?” she asked over cholent.

Tehillah turned bright red and quickly put her fork down. The worst part was the hopeful look Meir shot her.

“Um, wow, I’m not really sure yet. Still getting settled.”

Nina’s stare told her that wasn’t the right response, so she invented something about reaching community members, blah, blah, blah.

The rest of the meal was fine, thanks to Meir, who could carry a conversation with a doorknob. But Tehillah couldn’t shake the feeling that she might receive a grade on her performance at the meal’s end. What did Nina want from her? They said their goodbyes and as soon as the door closed behind them, she turned to Meir.

“Wow, I’ve never felt so embarrassed. You were hired already, by Rabbi Green. What did she mean by that?”

“Yeah, that was a little weird,” Meir agreed, pushing the stroller up the steps to their house. “But everything else was nice, no?”

“I guess so.” Tehillah shrugged. “But that woman has something against me.”

 Tehillah pushed open the door to Planet Kids and ushered her kids inside. She walked along the carpeted floor of the indoor playground to join Dena and Shulamis sitting with their kids at the ball pit, and it came to her. She’d never felt so “other” before. She’d gone from school, to camp, to seminary, all with the same basic group of people. Even during her long single years, when friends cycled in and out, her social circle had always included the like-minded.

She was a newcomer here. No one knew who she was or what she was capable of in Oakmont. Organized by Tehillah was a nonentity.

Tehillah squared her shoulders and moved forward, a wide smile on her face. These women didn’t need to know how hesitant she felt.

“Hi, Tehillah! How are you?” Dena said. “Feeling settled? Do you need anything? I’m still accepting meals, and we’ve been here for two years, so don’t be shy,” she said as she tossed a wayward ball back into the pit.

Tehillah laughed. “I’m good, thanks so much.” She settled the kids and came back to the bench, where Shulamis and Dena were discussing meal prep.

“What’s with the milk here?” Tehillah jumped in. “Does it always spoil two days after you buy it?”

“Listen,” Shulamis said, “we’re lucky we even get chalav Yisrael milk out here. Rabbi Green told my husband that until about four years ago they weren’t able to get a truck to deliver it. I think it was Nina who arranged it finally, through her father’s contacts in shipping or something.”

Nina, of course. In the weeks since she’d been in Oakmont, Tehillah never stopped hearing her name. Every encounter with her closest neighbor left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Speaking of Rabbi Green, we were just talking about his speech. Did your husband tell you about it?” Dena asked.

“Sort of, he didn’t really get into details,” Tehillah said.

“He makes this speech every year, you know, encouraging everyone to make as many community contacts as possible, and to invite them for Shabbos meals, to kollel functions, all that kind of stuff.”

Tehillah felt her stomach tightening up. She knew she’d have to start inviting people. Meir had not wanted to overwhelm her in the first few weeks, but now there was no choice. It wasn’t that she minded hosting, and she knew Meir enjoyed it. But the expectation got on her nerves. What if she didn’t feel like having guests? What if she didn’t want to get to know her non-frum neighbors?

It dawned on Tehillah that it wasn’t just the lack of Evergreen and Kava, or even that she was a plane ride away from almost everyone she loved, that tainted her experience in Oakmont. It occurred to her that maybe she didn’t want to do kiruv at all. Did she have that choice anymore?

She opened a container of cut fruit and offered it to the other women.

“Is it hard, the pressure to host? What if you’re, like, not in the mood?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” answered Shulamis. “But that’s kind of what Oakmont’s all about, at least for us. You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t know,” Tehillah said, popping a piece of honeydew in her mouth. “Do you miss living in town?” She tried to keep her voice casual.

“Well, I grew up in a kiruv house,” Dena said. “My parents always had tons of guests, so I’m used to this. But I totally hear why it can feel like a lot, especially at first.”

Tehillah felt a lump forming in her throat; she missed her old life so much. Just before, while driving to Planet Kids, she’d schmoozed to her mother about her nephew’s upsheren that would take place later that day. She could just picture it. All the kids running around and the adults schmoozing. She’d kept the tears at bay while on the phone; she didn’t want to upset her mother. She felt them welling up again now and blinked furiously. There was no reason that these sweet little girls in tichels needed to know how she felt.

“Yeah,” she said, sounding as carefree as she could, “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Sometimes, it is nice to just be able to hang out together and not have to be ‘on,’ though,” Shulamis said, her arm sweeping the room. “We try to do this pretty often.”

A throat clearing behind them had the women twist heads. It was Nina, looking like she owned Planet Kids. Tehillah blushed. How much of their conversation had Nina heard?

“Hi, Nina, so nice to see you!” Shulamis and Dena were all smiles. Tehillah forced herself to try to look the same.

“How are the bar mitzvah plans?” Shulamis asked as Nina sat down. “It’s in, what? Three more weeks?”

“Yes, and I hope you guys are psyched. I just finalized with the caterer from New York. Oh, and did I tell you? The Wachsbergs are flying in! Isn’t that awesome?”

Tehillah sighed as she unbuckled a sleeping Donny. This was a disaster; she’d have no night now. She transferred him to the couch and encouraged a half-asleep Ahuva to follow behind her as she went into the kitchen to start on supper.

She stepped toward the fridge and was suddenly flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling. Pain shot through her, but she managed to sit up. Something was wet underneath her. Her eyes followed a thin stream of bubbles coming from the laundry room. That old machine! It had been making funny noises since they moved in.

As she carefully picked herself up, Tehillah heard a knock. Through the peephole, she saw Nina, holding one of Ahuva’s pacifiers. Did that woman have a radar tracking Tehillah’s worst moments? Hadn’t they seen enough of each other at Planet Kids?

Opening the door as little as she could, she greeted Nina. “Hi, Nina, sorry, just had this crazy flood with my washing machine, it’s a big mess in here.”

Nina looked past her at the wet floor. “Oh goodness! Well, I brought your daughter’s pacifier. Here, let me help you mop up and we’ll call a repairman.”

“Thank you, I’m fine,” Tehillah said firmly. “It’ll take two minutes, and I have a number for the guy who helped us install it when we first moved in.”

For a minute, Tehillah thought Nina wouldn’t leave. But then she shrugged and took a step down toward the street.

“Okay. Good luck then.”

Seriously, Tehillah thought as she closed the door. Did Nina think she was utterly incompetent? Why wouldn’t she leave her alone?

She scrolled through her contacts to find the repairman, then remembered it was on Meir’s phone. She dialed his number without thinking; he was probably in seder.

But Meir answered on the second ring. “Hi, Tehillah, what’s up?”

It sounded noisy in the background, and Tehillah heard a voice come in over a loudspeaker. “I have a tall, iced, oat latte for Matt.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m learning with Matt in Starbucks.”

Tehillah felt her loneliness growing in her stomach. At least someone was enjoying himself. “I need the number of the appliance repair guy for the washing machine,” she said.

She hung up the phone and went to mop the mess. So much for disturbing Meir’s seder. What other surprises did Oakmont hold for her?

“Hey there, folks, shopping carts are right over here.” A gray-haired Home Depot employee pointed them to the left. Even the stores were different in Oakmont. People were… too friendly. Was that a thing? Sometimes it was nice and other times it felt like too much.

They reached the appliance section and Meir began examining the washing machines, reading the specs on top of each one. Tehillah smirked; he was having way too much fun. Except, something about the way he was studying the third one made her wonder.

“What’s the matter?”

“I spoke to Rabbi Green today. It got back to him that you’re not so comfortable with the whole kiruv thing.”

Tehillah felt her stomach clench. Nina! “Um, Meir, do we have to talk about this here? In Home Depot?”

Meir looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“I’m fine,” she said fiercely. “That Nina has it in for me. She didn’t like me from the minute she laid eyes on me. Whatever.”

They went back to the machines, finally chose one, and headed toward the store exit.

“This doesn’t have to be forever,” Meir said as he opened up the door to their van.

“I’m fine, Meir,” Tehillah said tightly. “Everything’s great.”

Meir cleared his throat. “Uh, because a couple of guys asked about coming for the seudah this week?”

Tehillah’s eyes narrowed. She clenched her fist over her seatbelt. She would prove that woman wrong. She would prove them all wrong. None of them knew the stuff she was made of.

“Sure,” she said sweetly, turning to Meir. “I think guests would be a great idea.”

 The flurry of cooking and organizing the meal energized her. She hadn’t been sure what Oakmont folk ate. Should she go for the nostalgic what you ate at your Bubby’s house approach? Or should she dazzle them with sophisticated fusion cuisine? In the end she’d settled on a mix of both, the table bearing gefilte fish and salmon crudo as well as an assortment of colorful salads and dips. Looking at the eclectic but happy group around her Shabbos table, Tehillah knew she’d gotten it right. And Meir was in his element, schmoozing it up. He looked happier than she’d seen him in a long time.

She even found herself enjoying talking to Mia, a young physical therapist who lived in the condos a few blocks away, and Susan, whose son had become frum on a Birthright trip a few years back. For the briefest moment, the ever-present feeling in the pit of her stomach eased and Oakmont felt right. It wasn’t about Meir or even about her. Here were Jewish neshamos coming closer to Hashem and she was a part of it.

Then, just as she cleared the cholent and meat board, there was a knock on the door. Before Tehillah could process what was happening, Nina and her husband were seated at their table, a s’more pie that Nina had come bearing taking center stage. As though Nina suspected that without her, Tehillah’s guests would have no dessert. The most maddening thing was that in all the craziness, dessert had slipped her mind. Nina had actually saved her.

Tehillah would not have thought she could feel ignored in her own home, but that was exactly how she felt. Nina commandeered the conversation, going on about her upcoming bar mitzvah, barely offering a glance in Tehillah’s direction.

After everyone finally left, Meir put both kids in for a nap while Tehillah cleaned up. She was so tired. Tired of pretending she was perfect, tired of Oakmont, tired of trying to figure out how to crack the code that was her neighbor. Looking at the table strewn with chocolate-smudged dessert plates and half-empty cups, she sat heavily down in one of the chairs, staring ahead into space.

“Great meal!” Meir said, coming down.

Tehillah didn’t answer.

“Are you okay? Want to go upstairs and take a nap?”

Tehillah shook her head. “She hates me,” she said, her voice flat. “I don’t know why, but Nina totally hates me.”

“What are you talking about?” Meir asked. “She just brought over a pie, they love us!”

“No, Meir. They love you.”

The Berman bar mitzvah had transformed the shul’s old social hall into a chic, upscale venue. Tehillah stared at the carving stations, magnificent floral arches over the tables, and the multitiered sweet table.

It was magnificent.

After wishing the Bermans a perfunctory mazel tov, Tehillah joined Shulamis and Dena. She’d wanted to feign a cold and skip the whole thing, but she knew Nina would see right through her excuses. Besides, she couldn’t do that to Meir. Now she may as well enjoy herself. She smiled at Mia, already seated.

“I had such a lovely time at your home this past weekend,” Mia said. “Thanks again.”

As soon as she could, Tehillah stepped into the musty coatroom off the social hall to check in with the babysitter. Service was really bad in the building, and she walked around the room trying to find a signal. Near the window, behind some boxes, a few bars popped up on her screen. As she was about to dial, the door opened and through a space in the boxes, Tehillah saw Nina and another woman.

The woman was wearing a shapeless dress that had seen better days and pushing an old Snap-N-Go, the kind Tehillah hadn’t seen in years. There was a big smile on her face.

“Everything is stunning, absolutely gorgeous, Nina!” the woman said.

“Naomi, I’m so happy you’re here, you can’t even imagine!”

This was Naomi?

“I’m so nervous,” Nina continued. “It’s our first big simchah, and I never know if I’m getting it right in the frum world. What does everyone think?”

“That you and Josh are amazing for being everything you are.”

Was Naomi placating overbearing, confident Nina? Tehillah peeked through the boxes and looked at Nina’s face. The put-together facade had slipped away, rendering her almost unrecognizable.

Naomi patted Nina’s arm. “Look, the whole community came out for you! And you must introduce me to the new couple! I really want to meet Tehillah.”

“I don’t know,” Nina said. “I’m sure I’m doing everything wrong. My mother and sister think I’m crazy for being frum, I wish I could know for sure that my frum friends think I’m doing it right.”

“You’re doing everything right, Nina,” Naomi coaxed. “Come back in and enjoy yourself.”

The two finally walked out of the coatroom and Tehillah exhaled. She dialed the babysitter, spoke quickly, and went back out to the party.

Scanning the room, she saw Nina bringing Naomi a plate of food. Naomi smiled at her gratefully and Nina beamed back, looking like her usual self.

 Two days later, Tehillah sat at her computer and opened Canva. Maybe opening her business would be her key to Oakmont. She’d start by advertising in the day school’s newsletter, and hope that once her name got out there and she was doing what she enjoyed, she’d be happier. People would see what she was all about.

Her hand hovered over the mouse, and she stopped, her thoughts wandering back to the bar mitzvah and Nina’s conversation in the coat room. All that insecurity festering beneath an overly confident shell. Tehillah knew what it felt like to try to integrate into a new community. She and Nina weren’t so different after all, were they?

Tehillah pushed back in her chair in a sudden decision. Here was her chance. It would be hard. But Tehillah could do hard.

She picked up her phone and dialed Nina.

“Hi?” Nina sounded surprised to hear from her.

“Hi, Nina. The bar mitzvah was so beautiful. Um, I’m trying to start my organizing business here in Oakmont. I was wondering….” Tehillah swallowed. “Could you help me get started? You know everything there is to know around these parts.”

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 919)