Wednesday morning, Ari picked Dassi up from work for a quick lunch date. She felt like a scientist, gauging her own reactions and feelings to try to draw conclusions. She was actually excited to see him, which she felt was definitely a good sign, and she relaxed against the seat, feeling content, as he told her how his trip had been.

They pulled into Kosher Planet Plaza, a strip mall named for the huge grocery store complex it housed along with a few other boutiques and cafes.

“Where are we headed, Sushi Konni?” asked Dassi, donning her sunglasses as they pulled up.

“Yup,” said Ari casually, “but I just need to pick up something for my sister first at the grocery. Want to run in with me?”

“Sure,” said Dassi, feeling her stomach drop a little — maybe in a good way — at the prospect of being spotted in such a casual setting with Ari.

They walked through the motorized doors, and the display of new magazines on the newsstands caught her eye. Wait. Wait. Was that…? She turned to Ari, eyes huge.

“What on earth?!”

Her voice had more than just a note of hysteria, but come on, her name was on the cover of Mishpacha magazine! She looked again, not trusting this was real, but there it was.

“MARRY ME, DASSI RUBIN,” screamed the headline in a blocky gold font, with a graphic of two champagne glasses clinking in the background. She picked up the copy with shaking hands. Her name stared back at her.

She looked around for Ari, wildly, but the greengrocer who had been restocking the cut-fruit display was in her direct line of vision instead. Suddenly, the store loudspeaker stopped playing the in-store radio channel and the up-tempo intro of Shimi Starr’s bouncy single Only You (Hashem) started playing.

The produce man dropped the container of sliced mango onto the shelf and did a little hop/clap/step move. The chassidish-looking guy pushing a cart behind him did it, too. This was… weird. Dassi felt like she was stuck in jello, but then in the blink of an eye, found herself watching a dozen men dancing to Shimi Starr lyrics in a full-fledged flash mob.

She started laughing, half out of awkwardness, half out of shock.

Out of the middle of the crowd, Ari materialized.

“Dassi,” he said loudly, projecting to the crowd that had gathered around. Dassi noticed some people with their phones up in front of their faces to film the spectacle. And the phones, the music… it reminded her for a split second of the crowd recording Shimi Starr on that date. She felt her pulse race, but was she panicked or thrilled? Her hands trembled, and the magazine she held shook.

“Dassi, from the beginning, I knew you’d be perfect for me. I see our future together, and I know it will be everything I ever wanted. The only thing left is to ask you is”—he flourished a magazine dramatically so the crowd could read the headline—“Dassi Rubin, will you marry me?”

Much, much later that night — after mazel tov had been wished and wished again, the initial shock had worn off (or maybe set in? It was hard to tell), and Dassi had come home and kicked off her l’chayim heels — Chayala leaned back against the couch headrest and closed her eyes briefly.

“I’m still not over it, Dass,” she said softly.

Dassi laughed and covered her face, a brand-new tennis bracelet winking back at Chayala from her wrist. “You think I am?” she shot back. “I don’t even remember saying yes. From the time I walked into the store until we left it was one big blur. I feel like I could take a month to process this and I’d still be in shock.”

Aly was sitting next to Dassi, and she grinned. “We’ve been waiting here to ambush you for the real details all night,” she said. “It was hard to see your expression so well over the live stream, but I’m pretty sure you looked more shocked than I’ve ever seen you before. So did he really manage to surprise you?”

Dassi grimaced. “Omigosh you guys, I forgot about the live stream for a second. I totally didn’t know any of it was going to happen, and for sure not that mortifying live stream! I’m sorry if that was a little bit of a weird way to find out.” She laughed a little awkwardly. “Technically, we all found out at the same time, so you can’t be too annoyed. But I hope it didn’t make you guys feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, please,” said Shira, scoffing good-naturedly.

Chayala wondered if she didn’t dwell on Dassi’s admission of embarrassment on purpose.

“I think we’re all well past that stage. We’re happy for you! And it was nice to be a part of your special moment,” Shira added.

“Yeah, hello, it was a good thing Etty’s brother showed her the link, or we would have missed it,” said Chayala, and maybe it was because it was two o’clock in the morning or maybe because she was on edge from Dassi’s news, but she allowed a hint of censure to sneak into her tone. She regretted it immediately. If Dassi wanted this, then she was happy for her. And, well, if Chayala had her reservations, she could be a supportive friend and take her cues from Dassi, not project her own concerns.

“How does it feel?” she asked hesitantly, and Dassi’s smile stayed fixed.

“Hello, it’s amazing! You guys know this whole parshah was so complicated,” she said, and then her smile slipped and froze into a little half grimace. “He’s… he’s Ari, you know? Of course I’m happy. It’s going to be totally fine.” Her expression stayed fixed. “I mean, is it a little scary? Yeah. But like, my whole life is about to turn upside down so I would be naive if I wasn’t nervous, right?” Her tone took on a panicked note, her breathing a little fast, like she’d done a cardio circuit.

Chayala watched Dassi’s eyes flick to Shira’s.

Shira studied Dassi seriously. “Dass, it makes so much sense to have a lot of conflicting feelings at a time like this, especially when you’re crashing after a crazy adrenaline rush. And the shock! Omigosh. It’s really a lot.”

“Totally,” said Aly. “I’m having a hard time knowing if this is real, and it’s not even my life!”

Dassi’s hands twisted in her lap, her whole being radiating anxiety and uncertainty. And classic Chayala, she itched to find something she could do to fix this unfixable problem. She cleared her throat.

“Dassi,” she chortled, and her jolly voice sounded like such a put-on to her own ears, but it was better than nothing. “Don’t worry, we’ll visit you in your cute Machal apartment, you can’t get rid of us so easily.”

Good old Aly picked up the thread amiably. “Yeah, come on, as if I would let you be one of those friends who got married and left her poor nebach single friends behind,” she teased.

Dassi, however, didn’t smile back. She looked at each one of them in turn, and the room felt heavy. Chayala could see her swallow heavily. “No way,” Dassi said. “If anything, I need you guys more than ever.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 842)