“The problem is, it’s impossible to balance these two loyalties. Believe me, I try. And then, when I get this attitude from you, it’s frustrating and infuriating”
Mina
Yocheved confronted me the moment I walked into the boutique.
“How did your lesson go?” There was a smirk on her face, and her voice dripped disdain. “Did you convince the girls to put me out of business?”
I had an urge to hurl my notepad across the room and flee, never to return. One more takanos dig… I glared at her, my breath shaking.
But then, while my mind raced, trying to formulate a fitting counter barb, I caught a flicker in Yocheved’s eyes. There was something there, a trace of… not sarcasm. Something small and wounded, something vulnerable, behind the snarky veneer.
Pain?
My breathing slowed. All this aloofness, all the chiding; I’d never given it thought. Chalked it up to a mockery of our differences, and didn’t it go both ways?
But now, observing that tiny hint of… something, the scorn didn’t feel so biting. Because it wasn’t scorn. It was a desperate measure of defense, a way of blocking the… hurt.
She was my sister, and I was hurting her.
Gently, I replaced my notepad on the reception desk. “I’m sorry, Yocheved,” I said softly.
She blinked, surprised. I watched her shoulders ease slightly, as though she was letting go of a load. I patted the chair next to me, and she sat down.
I took a deep breath. “I know you’re upset. You think my involvement in the takanos plan is treacherous.”
From the back of the boutique, a door opened and a string of Russian broadcasting streamed into the showroom. Then the door closed and it was quiet again.
“I never said that,” Yocheved said tersely.
“Let me talk.”
She pursed her lips.
“I’m going to be open with you, and I want you to listen, okay?”
I waited for her to respond. After a moment, she jerked her head, pretending to appear indifferent.
I swallowed. “I’m in a weird spot,” I started, spidering my fingers on the desk. “I’m loyal to you, you know that. I make your customers happy. I believe I’m an asset to your business. Right?”
Another semi-nod.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Right. So I do it with my whole heart, because I enjoy doing it, and also because I care about the boutique, I really do. I want you to succeed.” I paused.
“But at the same time…”
Yocheved was drawing circles on the ground with her bootie, avoiding eye contact. I plowed on. “At the same time, I have to be loyal to my husband, too. Shlomo’s invested in his project and relies on me to support him. And I want to support him, because I believe in the cause.”
I picked up a pen and started clicking. “The problem is, it’s impossible to balance these two loyalties. Believe me, I try. And then, when I get this attitude from you, it’s frustrating and infuriating.”
Yocheved played with the tips of her sheitel. Her face was masked, her eyes slightly glazed.
