Estee sat down on the recliner; her legs couldn’t support her anymore. She wished she had something solid to say in her defense, but her arsenal was empty. “Tammy,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. Truly. I hope you forgive me.”

Tammy stood up. “Put back the original photo,” she said, and then she walked out.

Estee didn’t get up from the recliner for a long, long time.

She managed to pull herself together before Yonah got home for lunch. If he had any thoughts on the tuna and pickle sandwiches awaiting him, he kept them to himself.

“Yum, looks great, Est.”

She smiled weakly.

“You okay?”

She thought about telling him, about spilling out the whole story. It would be so easy, and he would validate her, and possibly tell her Tammy was ultra-sensitive and overreacting, and it was kind of weird that she just showed up, what’s wrong with a phone call, et cetera, et cetera.

But then she remembered her kallah teacher telling her “You don’t need to share every mishap with him. Don’t tell him your boss called you lazy or that you’re favorite skirt no longer fits you. He doesn’t need to know all your flaws. Keep the mystery alive.”

Also, if she was being really honest, she knew Tammy was right. She’d acted shallowly and thoughtlessly, and she didn’t deserve to have anyone validate her.

So she just murmured something about a headache and sat listening quietly to his long-winded story about Rubinstein calling out a shvere kasha in shiur, which was totally unheard of.

Later, after she waved him out the door, she put in a load of laundry and then checked her emails. Hostess, the web developer she’d sent the Fiverr web design to, had sent their bill. She clicked it open.

Omigosh, she was going to be sick.

Was this a joke?

How? How was that even possible?

She put her head down on her desk and moaned. She had one gallery up, one gallery to un-edit, no couple’s photoshoot scheduled, and now she had to sell a kidney on the black market to pay Hostess.

Things at Estee’s Photoshop were just peachy.

She wished she could tell Yonah about this bill at least, but she wasn’t sure he even liked her new career. She definitely wasn’t going to point out that it was slowly bankrupting them.

MA was texting him. He loved his mother’s texts, they were all mostly one line, no punctuation.

CominginSundaytolookatsomeoptions

Cant wait toseeyou!

So it was really happening. Sheesh, he needed to wrap his brain around this. But first….

“Est!”

She came shuffling in, glasses on, eyes tired. She actually looked wiped, now that he thought about it.

“You okay?”

She scrunched her eyes together and yawned. “Fine. What’s up?”

He suddenly felt bad adding anything to her plate. But it was his parents… “Um, Ma and Daddy will be in town Sunday to look at houses nearby…. Can we invite them for brunch?”

Her eyes were wide open now. She looked at him for almost a full minute without saying anything before shrugging.

“Fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Well, it wasn’t very enthusiastic, but he’d take what he could get.

“Awesome, thanks, Est.”

She nodded and shuffled back out. He watched her go with concern, then texted Ma back.

Looking forward! Can we invite you and Daddy for lunch? Estee and I would love that. He added a smiley face emoji.

Hey, at least someone should be smiling.

Great. So now, on top of a failing business, her in-laws were moving next door. Why was that normal? Not that she didn’t like her in-laws, she really did. It was just… a lot.

Her phone pinged. I’m literally done. He said he would wash the dishes. I just walked in from the gym and not a single dish is washed.

Ayala’s texts had been getting worse and worse.

And the part Estee hated? That she never had the guts to just say what she really thought, which was, “Give the poor guy a break.”

Instead, she was busy sending monkey-face emojis and eye-rolling signs. Yuck, she disgusted herself.

She pulled the basket of fresh towels toward her and breathed in the fresh, floral scent of clean laundry.

She’d have to tell Yonah to add it to his fictitious podcast: Laundry Therapy: for when the kollel budget won’t stretch to include professional help.

Ha, she cracked herself up.

Yonah stuck his head in just then. “Hey, you’re smiling! Yay! Listen, Pinny just emailed me, he needs some guy time. Okay if we chill for a while on the patio?”

Omigosh, here it was. Truth time. Pinny was going to confide that his and Ayala’s marriage was on the rocks and Estee wouldn’t have to hide it anymore.

“Sure,” she said weakly. “Have fun.”

And then she folded laundry in silence, as she waited for Pinny to finally confide in his best friend.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1024)