I also haven’t seen that lob in several weeks. Come to think of it, Raquel Cohen canceled last week’s appointment. So did Zahava. I didn’t think much of it at the time — it’s the summer, schedules are iffy — but maybe there’s something else going on?

Slamming the trunk, I whip out my phone. Time for some sleuthing. And for that, I need my super extroverted, head of the Neshei, big sister, Zeesel.

Ten minutes later, while I’m waiting to inch forward, minute by agonizing minute — I am going to be late for carpool — my phone pings. Oh, Zeesel is good. I click on her voice note.

Hi Faigs, how are you, omigosh remind me I needed to ask you something about Ma’s trip to Bucharest, also I wanted that cream cheese brownie recipe, kay but anyway, sheitels. So basically there’s a new sheitelmacher in town, sorry hun, her name is Yitty Levine, and she is suuuper expensive. But she’s super well-known, straight from some fancy sheitel salon, and her prices are kein ayin hara, like I always knew you were charging too little, but I mean, wow. It’s crazy, anyway, so sorry, you know I’m still coming to you, especially with the family and friends discount, haha, just kidding, kay gotta run, love you.

That’s a lot, even for Zeesel.

A new sheitelmacher in our neighborhood? I lean on the horn, just for a second, as worry creeps in.

Business doesn’t slow, but there are definitely gaps in standing appointments, aside from Dalia and Leah.

“I know parnassah is from Shamayim,” I say to Mendy over Jolly Ranchers and building our new Ikea chairs, our version of date night. “But this girl just swoops in, steals all my clients, and then charges them more than double for the privilege. That’s right, more than double! Can you imagine?”

Mendy’s face puckers as he imagines. “Hmmm, it’d be a lot easier to pay for all of these summer camps if you were charging more than double your prices.”

“Mendy! That is so not the point. I was the ‘well-priced one’ back when I started. To match Yitty, I’d literally have to double my prices. I can’t do that!”

He shrugs and reaches for a screwdriver. He hates beating dead horses. Unlike yours truly, who can go round and round, just for the comfort of it. Fine, be on the other team.

I can’t win.

I wasn’t going to go to the shiur, but I could use some summer chizuk. I settle next to Amy Fried, who looks great in a blue tichel that matches her eyes. I love that; why don’t I ever wear a tichel out of the house? She puts a hand on my knee. “How you doing with the whole Yitty Levine matzav?” she asks sympathetically.

Which is a bit forward, but also thank you for getting that there’s an issue here.

I shrug self-pityingly; she shakes her head. “Leah and Dini were raving about her, and I told them there’s no way I can afford such prices, hello inflation, and Faigy is good enough for me.” She smiles as the speaker comes in. I stand with the rest of the women feeling 50 times worse than before. Good enough??? Thanks, Amy.

Breaking news: Mendy needs his wisdom teeth out. Like, all four. Why? Why couldn’t he have gotten them out at 20, like everyone else? Or, you know, any time before 26 and he was still on his mother’s insurance?

Why are teeth extractions so, so expensive? Thank G-d for credit cards.

Poor man is miserable, but I have enough soup, smoothies, and applesauce to keep him full if not satisfied.

“Ahvil,” he mumbles. I run to get him painkillers and a glass of water — no straws — then run to flip the schnitzel I’m making for those of us who can chew. That’s when the bell to the side door rings.

Oh no, no, no; I forgot to cancel my two o’clock!

Flinging open the door, I apologize, settle Chavi Landau in my chair, and hurry back to make sure Mendy will be okay for the next half hour or so. He is no longer conscious, so I think he’ll be okay.

Taking a deep breath, I smooth my skirt, run my hand over my own wig, and glide back into my salon, trying very hard to look like a capable, talented sheitelmacher who is not running herself ragged.

Chavi Landau is a genuinely nice person and she brushes off my apologies.

“It’s totally fine! Gives me more time away from the dishes I’m supposed to be washing.”

I smile weakly (I’m terrible at banter), and then ask her what we’re doing on her fall.

“Oh, the usual,” she says airily.

“How about crimped?” I hear my own voice saying aloud. What is wrong with me, I never guide the customer! Let them listen to their own voice, that’s my motto.

Her face turns thoughtful. “Crimped? I love that. But not tight, right, just more like beachy?”

I nod enthusiastically — who AM I? — and jot it down on a Post-it that I pin to her sheitel head.

“Amazing. This should be ready in two days, im yirtzeh Hashem.”

She hops off my chair. “I’m sooo excited. How much do I owe you, I’ll Venmo you later.”

I’m about to name my usual price, but then I picture Mendy’s poor bruised face, the bill at Dr. Kantor’s office, the 50 camps I’ve signed my kids up for because none of them can think to run the whole summer, the poor dead horse of Mendy and my conversation about raising prices, and fancy Yitty Levine and her sheitel salon reputation.

And while I don’t quite double my prices, I hear myself quoting a price pretty close.

Chavi’s mouth drops open. “Oh! Wow! Okay, sure, I’ll send that soon, okay?” And she runs out of the salon.

Later, when I’m washing her wig, I remember her face, and the pit that sat in my stomach all day gets larger. Did I really do that, increase my price on the fly? After all I’d said to Mendy about doubling my rates just because I could?

But Amy’s words from the night of the shiur are ringing like alarm bells in my already overtired mind. Good enough? Suddenly, I’m only ‘good enough’ because a fancy sheitalmacher from the big city shows up and charges double than me? I’m talented! I’m loyal. I’m pleasant, experienced, and everybody has been happy with me. And let’s face it; I need the money. Life didn’t get more expensive only for my customers! Everyone is raising their prices. Gali’s day camp went up, the repairman told me he upped his fee, even the lettuce I buy was unaffordable last week.

Still, I hadn’t told anyone, including Mendy; I just did this without warning. But honestly, if that’s the market, what else was I to do? Besides, I’m still cheaper than fancy Yitty Levine.

I take out the crimper I’d ordered yesterday — thank you, Amazon Prime, which is starting to charge for returns — and all I can think is, What should I have done differently?

All I can think is:

Should I have done  anything differently?

Rachelli Fried, Jerusalem

Faigy is right to raise her prices. Actually, I think it’s necessary and brave of her to raise her prices. Don’t get me wrong, I have compassion for the community. I feel for those who will have to think three times before they take their wig to get washed and set. But we work for our families. We work to support them so we can give them what they need. Faigy isn’t trying to pinch every penny out of her customers. Life has gotten more expensive. Forget wisdom teeth, even groceries and stockings add up these days, and Faigy has a responsibility to her family to provide for them the best way she knows how. Now, if her price range was beyond market, that would be a different story. But raising the prices to an amount that is responsible in comparison to others is fair. I do think she should have communicated the price change to Chavi, explaining that prices have gone up due to inflation and the market. That is a respectful way of handling business. But overall, she has every right to do what she did.

D.N. Queens, NY

I completely identify with Chavi’s reaction. I have definitely picked up a sheitel and asked how much I owe to discover it was more than I had expected…. But never double without warning! I do feel bad for Faigy. She was put in such a difficult situation even just with competition moving in, but add to that her friends dropping her without being up-front, and her sudden dental bills…. Still, while she may be completely justified to raise her prices if that’s the going rate for her services and skill, to do it in the way she did seems like an act of desperation, and is disrespectful to her customers’ loyalty and to her own worth and capabilities. Perhaps she could have brainstormed a way to add more value to her service, for example, offering overnight service or something, and increasing her prices while giving customers a fresh feeling about her business. Even just respectfully informing her customers that as of a certain date her prices would be increasing. But to do it on the fly seems wrong to me.

Leora Bergfeld, Brooklyn, NY

The first thing that hit me when I read this story was: we need a rav’s opinion. I’m definitely not a pro on Choshen Mishpat. But, sorry, Faigy, it is proper to inform customers of a price increase so they have the choice to decide whether to use your service. When you sit down with a service provider and explain what you want, only to be informed afterward that you can’t afford the higher priced service is embarrassing and awkward.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 854)