“Look, Kivi.” Benjy Halb shifted from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable. “Maybe we can figure out a way to do this.”

Chevy and Shimmy had made a bas mitzvah party in their home, and Kivi and his father-in-law were standing on the back porch, waiting for their wives to finish their goodbyes. Benjy was gripping the wooden railing so hard, his knuckles were white.

Kivi felt bad for his father-in-law, who genuinely didn’t see himself as better or more entitled than those who had less money than he. But Benjy was in a rough spot. His wife wanted to go Eretz Yisrael for Mendy’s upsheren and he didn’t like to disappoint her. (Had they also caught on, Kivi wondered, to the fact that Mendy wasn’t typical? Was it only Malky with her head in the sand?)

But Benjy had gotten the message from Malky that Kivi was uncomfortable with their joining, since his parents couldn’t afford to make the trip. Kivi knew this would give his father-in-law pause; Benjy worked hard to make sure that both sets of parents were seen as equal.

Yamim Tovim were split precisely down the middle, and Benjy had made it clear when the baby was born that her name went to Kivi’s side, even though his own mother had passed away two years earlier. But now his wife really wanted to go to Eretz Yisrael. Kivi imagined his mother-in-law saying urgently, “This is what Malky needs, trust my instincts on this one, Benjy.”

“I was thinking,” Benjy said tentatively. “What if you booked tickets through the company, and then tell your parents you have points, or rewards, or whatever, and can they please join? Maybe that would be a diplomatic solution?”

Benjy was too refined to say the words “We’ll pay for it,” outright, and Kivi was grateful for that.

He imagined telling his parents that the tickets were free. They would see through it in a moment, and his mother would call his in-laws as soon as he hung up to thank them effusively but make sure they knew that she worked hard and couldn’t come. She would be offended and she wouldn’t hang up until they knew that she may not be wealthy, but she was proud. His father would take it in stride and would probably be happy to accept the tickets, but Hershel Denburger really did work hard and couldn’t just not show up to the Jumping Jax factory for a few days; his infrequent vacations from work were scheduled months in advance.

Kivi remembered a time, maybe six months after his wedding. The Halbs were giving full support to their youngest couple, but the Denburgers, perhaps feeling challenged, insisted that they were paying for Kivi and Malky’s tickets home for Pesach. Hershel had found tickets with a short stopover in Istanbul. But Naomi Halb’s daughter wasn’t going via Instanbul — via anywhere, for that matter — and Benjy had stepped in and called Kivi, asking him to tell his parents that the Halbs had some extra frequent flyer points and he had free tickets home.

“But make sure to ask them to put that money toward something else, maybe they want to buy Malky something for Yom Tov? They shouldn’t feel like it’s because they don’t have, you know?” Benjy had added.

That time, it had worked. This time, Kivi didn’t think it would.

But as he kicked at an inflatable soccer ball, sending it directly into the small net at the far end of the porch, he knew that it was because this time, he didn’t want it to work. (Excerpted from Mishpacha, Issue 741)