She shot Dassi a sidelong glance. “You doing okay, Dass? You seem… a little out of it,” she said with concern.

Dassi sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest. “I… will be, if that helps,” she said. No one pushed her to clarify, so she sighed again and just said it. “I have a date on Sunday night, and I think I’m going to end it. I mean, I know I am,” she amended.

Aly clucked sympathetically. “Oy, I’m sorry, that’s so stressful. That’s no fun.”

“Uch, Dassi, that’s the worst. You seemed so excited last time we discussed,” said Shira.

Dassi flung an arm over her eyes. “I was. Things changed. I don’t really want to get into the gory details.” She sighed. “Let’s just say I’m lucky that I got a glimpse of what my future life would be like with him, and I want to cancel that particular subscription.”

Shira exchanged a glance with Chayala. “That does sound lucky,” she said encouragingly.

Suddenly Chayala’s bag, nestled in between her lap and the door, began to buzz. “Hold this for me a sec,” she said, passing her container of lo mein to Aly. She rooted through her cross-body for her phone, which brightly proclaimed that MRS. GUTMACHER was trying to reach her. “Ah, my bad, Al, you can put it down. I need to take this guys, sorry. Be right back,” she said, and opened the door and stepped out into the crisp cholent-scented night.

“Hi, Chayala, do you have a minute?”

“Of course, Mrs. G.,” she said warmly, feeling like she was returning a hug.

“Oh, great. Well, I called your mother, who told me to speak straight to you. I got a yes for you from Yaakov Rabinowitz. He’s from Monsey, he’s 30, was learning until he was 25 then went to school for accounting, and now he works for some nursing home guys, but he gives a Minchah shiur in his office every day and learns night seder. I don’t know him too well, but I know his Aunt Aliza from his father’s side, and they’re very yashrusdig people, very fine family. I’m going to send you the résumé, but I know things are busy with you so I did a little legwork also, and his mother’s cousin is Nechy Horowitz from Monsey. I know your mother knows her for years, so give her a call, too. And check if his dirah mate Steinfeld is the same Steinfeld who married your classmate, what’s her name, Rochella Green? I seem to remember Etty going to a Green-Steinfeld wedding a few years back.”

“Wow,” said Chayala. “First of all, thank you for thinking of me! This is so nice of you.”

“Nice has nothing to do with it,” cut in Mrs. Gutmacher. “A young woman like you? Everything going for her? The boy should be thanking me.”

Chayala laughed. “That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said. “But really, thank you for this. It sounds totally on target.”

***

Dassi felt hollow with unease. She’d put a Band-Aid over her chipped index finger nail polish to hide how much she’d gnawed at it. Now she scratched at the bandage edges, her hands in her lap in the passenger seat of Ari’s car.

She stole a glance at him, and considering how they’d left things off, he seemed to either be totally oblivious to her current distress, or studiously avoiding it. He was usually extremely perceptive with her reactions, so she suspected the latter, which made it all the more stressful.

The track changed on the car speakers, and Moshiach Tomorrow’s opening notes began playing. Her stomach sank further.

“Hey, hey, is this our song?” He hummed along with the low part. Dassi didn’t answer. “The guys are still hocking about that by the way. I told them it was worth it just to see your face light up when you walked out of the elevator. You know,” he continued, “I would never have planned that kind of date with someone else, you just have a way of being in the moment that is really impressive. It shows a lot of depth, I think. I mean, Shimi Starr is who he is, anyone could get starstruck. But you appreciate things on a more meaningful level.”

Dassi twisted her hands in her lap. She knew, she knew that this would happen, that the clarity she was trying so desperately hard to cling tightly to was going to be challenged. Do NOT get distracted with the things you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear. Pull the trigger, she told herself sternly.

He turned toward the highway and with a jolt she realized his GPS destination was reading Otter Creek Reservoir. He saw her looking. “Remember you told me you loved canoeing there with your siblings growing up? I thought we’d have a date-ified version just for us… turns out they also have catamarans for rent, and they’re gorgeous at night.

That was too much. “Um… wow, that is so, so thoughtful of you, but honestly, can we just stay local tonight? Maybe just do something low-key, like go for a walk? I have something I want to talk to you about.”

There. It was out in the open, and she wasn’t going to change her mind.

Annoyance flickered across Ari’s face. “Seriously? No, you’re going to love the plan for tonight. We have a reserved slot on this cool yacht in an hour and a half, and the drive is at least an hour. Let’s talk on the way there.”

Dassi took a fortifying breath. “I would really, really like to take a walk now,” she said softly.

Ari swerved sharply and pulled over into a nearby gas station, the bright overhead lights flooding into his car. He pulled into a parking spot near the convenience store and put his car into park. “Noooo problem,” he said, like he was joking, but he wasn’t at all. “You want to take an emergency walk? No time like the present.” He turned off the ignition and threw open his car door.

Hesitantly, Dassi followed. “Here?” she asked, uneasily, looking around, her hand still on the door handle. They weren’t in a part of the city she would exactly be comfortable in on her own. “I just meant can’t we go somewhere close by that’s quiet?”

“Ah, now she’s getting specific,” he said, and again, it was hard for Dassi to know if he was being sarcastic or there was some joke she wasn’t getting. She couldn’t bring herself to smile either way. She faced him, the car in between them.

“Fine. I can talk here, if that’s what you want,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “The last few weeks have been… a lot. A lot of really good moments, and you really opened my eyes to see that there is someone out there for me, who can understand and appreciate me.”

“You know how much I appreciate you,” he said then, but it didn’t matter.

“I just can’t do this anymore. I don’t think we should continue dating.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 833)