The jet lag was like a giant vacuum cleaner sucking the energy out of Kivi, but Wagner had made it clear that this was important. They’d arrived in Newark before dawn, and after davening and playing with the baby, Kivi smiled at Malky and said, “Back to the real world.” Just like that, vacation was over.

He was conscious of this as he changed into a clean shirt, that even though he and Malky would spend the next few days saying how amazing it had been, show pictures of Mendy on Chacham Shaul’s lap, and share smiles when remembering different moments of the trip — still, nothing had really changed.

It had been a nice week, but he didn’t feel reenergized or invigorated. He felt more stressed than when he’d left: worried about work, worried about his in-laws’ sudden interest in him and Malky and how they were doing, worried about Mendy’s future.

He took his seat in the far corner of Kava, wondering what Wagner’s crisis was, feeling like the only thing he really wanted was some sleep.

It was unusual to see Wagner looking uncertain about anything, but when he walked into the coffee shop, Kivi could clearly see the indecision on his friend’s face. “What?” Kivi asked as he stood up to shake Wagner’s hand. “Why do you look like you’re the principal and I’m being suspended?”

Wagner half-smiled, but he still looked uncomfortable.

He sat down, then stood up to order, then checked his phone, then sat down to wait.

“Wags.” Kivi took his friend’s arm. “Settle down. I just came on an overnight flight, I mamash haven’t slept in three days, and I feel less jittery than you look. Relax, man. What is it? Just say it already.”

Wagner looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening in. Kivi, uncomfortable with long silence, went for the joke.

“Maskim that guy,” Kivi indicated a couple two tables over, “over there, holds it doesn’t pas for him to be here, and he wants everyone to know that he’s only here cause its mamash mesirus nefesh and his wife needs to go out?”

Wagner looked over, smiled politely, but didn’t bite.

“Also, what’s with the paisley shirt collars? Did a new style hit Lakewood during the week I was away?”

Wagner actually grinned at that, then stood up to go get his drink.

“Listen, Kivi, it’s like this.” He sat back down very suddenly, ready to press play. “I was schmoozing with Daniel while you were gone, and he was saying some pretty scary stuff. He moved to Lakewood to start again. You know, the kids were older, he had heavy choivos, the usual, and he sold his house in Brooklyn. His wife wasn’t thrilled about leaving Flatbush, but the new house in Lakewood really spoke to her, and he has married kids here, so they came.”

Kivi put down his fork. Wagner went on, fully focused on his story.

(Excerpted from Mishpacha, Issue 746)