No. She couldn’t be scared off. Get back on the horse and all that, right? Squaring her shoulders, she wiggled her fingers over the keyboard like a concert pianist and typed back.

Hi Amy,

Thanks for reaching out.

I do have an opening next week, Tuesday. Does that work for you?

Please send me the details of what you’re looking for, so I can plan the best setting.

Really looking forward,

Estee

Now this was something she was more than excited to share with Yonah. Success shared is success squared, right?

Estee leaned on the boardwalk railing. Location? Perfection. She looked out at the water. It was early enough that the boardwalk was practically empty, it wasn’t yet peak heat, and she’d successfully gathered her weekday sheitel into a chic messy bun, something she had not managed to do so far.

Taking in several deep, cleansing breaths, she couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. Life was sweet. Things were looking up.

She checked her phone and noticed that Amy was three minutes late. Not a big deal, but when clients paid for an hour, each minute held value.

She’d give her five minutes extra; she figured that was professional courtesy.

When it hit 9:05, her phone pinged.

Hi, Estee.

Sorry I’m running late.

My husband will drop the kids off in like a minute and I’ll be there soon.

Thanks a million.

Estee squinted at the message. No. No, she didn’t mean—

A minivan pulled up, five little boys tumbled out, and then the minivan screeched away.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

“…and then I watched the kids alone for 20 minutes, trying to keep them all from diving into the water. I almost died from stress and then the mom showed up, iced coffee in hand, chilling hard.”

She would’ve continued but Ayala was laughing so hard, Estee was scared she’d choke on her coffee.

“Estee. No. Only you. Literally, only you.”

Estee put her head down on the table and moaned. “I was a glorified babysitter. With a camera. She even tipped me ten dollars.”

Ayala lost it. Estee decided to grab the opportunity.

“That’s it. You find this way too funny, now you have to come with me to the Neshei event tonight.”

Ayala got sober real quick.

“What? No. I hate those things. All women should worship their husbands, blah blah blah. Do these rebbetzins realize our husbands are literal babies who can’t yet rent cars? Why exactly are we giving them all this respect? Shouldn’t respect be earned?”

Estee tilted her head, feeling the weight of her kallah earrings against her shoulder. “Mmm, maybe. But maybe not? Let’s go find out?”

“I hate you,” Ayala moaned.

Estee nodded crisply. “Love you too. See you at seven.”

“Yuck!”

“Let him give to you.”

Estee nodded along with Rebbetzin Weiss, while keeping a sideways eye on Ayala, who was busy cleaning out dirt from the crevices in her diamond ring.

“Challah dough,” she whispered to Estee. Estee pretended to giggle, but inside she was shrieking, “Omigosh, just listen to the woman.”

“Let him give to you, girls. Don’t tell him no thank you when he offers to do the dishes because you know you do it better. Say yes, thank you, now I can sit down with a tea, you’re really helping me.

“And yes, I know you can do the dishes better and faster. Allow him to do it because it will build him. It will turn him into the provider, the giver. And when he steps into that role, then you are free to be the receiver. To be feminine and soft. And that sets the tone for the entire home. That’s right, ladies. The power is all in your hands.”

The Rebbetzin beamed at the audience.

She was charismatic and bright and was the perfect speaker for the Newlywed Neshei.

So how come Ayala was scrolling through her phone, fingers idly playing with the diamond choker around her neck?

HEchalked his cue; Pinny sniggered.

“You pretending you know how to shoot pool is such a vibe.”

Yonah poked him in the shoulder, leaving a round blue chalk mark on his white shirt.

“Hey!”

Yonah dropped the cue and held up both hands in surrender. “I give up. Let’s play.”

They played in silence, the only sound the clicking and smashing of pool balls.

“So she told me today, straight out,” Pinny says conversationally.

Yonah bit his tongue. He needed to get the red ball into the corner pocket and he’d win. “Told you what?”

“That she doesn’t like me. Ayala. Her exact words were, ‘You keep surprising me. And I don’t mean this in a good way.’ ”

Yonah missed the shot. “Nah, that’s not so bad. She just needs you to compliment her. Pay attention to her. Don’t mansplain. Validate. Listen. Buy her a present. Wives,” he said wisely, taking one more shot, “just need to be reassured.”

Pinny did not look reassured in the slightest.

“Rosen. Stop sounding like a chassan class brochure. It’s annoying.”

Yonah laughed. “Hey, you either got it or you don’t got it.”

Pinny grabbed the cue out of Yonah’s hand and took the shot, reaching out for fist bump when it dropped neatly into the pocket.

“I have no idea what ‘it’ is, but I’m pretty sure I don’t got it.”

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1027)