Recap: In the journal, Aida just found out that her father is in a Syrian prison. Aliza was reading the journal to distract herself from the upsetting day she just experienced. Zevi had gone missing, and they finally found him playing at a family’s cabin. That family was frum and invited Aliza’s family for a Shabbos meal.
“Lizzie!”
I looked up from the journal. Dovid was standing over me. “Come on, we’re making a surprise for when Mommy gets home. Carol said Ima should be home in a couple of hours. We want to have Shabbos all ready for her.”
I followed Dovid into the kitchen. “I made the chicken already and there was frozen challah that we brought. You can make the rice and the salad.”
Zevi was busy with a cake mix under Carol’s guidance.
The table was already set.
“Wow, you are so efficient,” I said.
“We don’t need to make anything for lunch, because we’re going to the Talshins for lunch.”
“I hope Mommy will be okay with going to someone she doesn’t know.”
…
A couple of hours later, Mommy strode into the cabin. “Something smells good.”
We all raced to greet her. My angry feelings about her leaving on our special vacation had melted away and I was as happy as Zevi and Dovid to see her.
Zevi was the first to tell her about the Talshins. “I met this really nice friend. He’s also four and we’re going to his house for lunch.”
“We are?” Mommy looked up at me and Dovid.
“Yeah, they’re a really nice frum family that Zevi discovered.”
She plopped onto the nearest chair. “I’m exhausted. It was an exhausting trip.”
“Where did you go?” Dovid asked.
“It’s a long story. I had to meet with a lot of people in Washington, and there was a long layover. I’m going to go take a nap.”
At supper, Mommy focused her full attention on us, and it was like it always was before Daddy was niftar. We took turns telling hashgachah stories, and Dovid told his silly math jokes, and Mommy was smiling.
“Mommy, why can’t you stay home more?” I heard myself blurt my feelings.
“I want to stay home with you, Sheifele. Dovid told me you started reading the journal.”
I nodded.
“Then you see how dire the situation is for our brothers and sisters in Syria. We can’t sit back and do nothing. Not so long ago, there was not enough outcry when Jews were thrown into gas chambers. We have to stand up for each other.”
Dovid shot me a look.
“I know what you’re doing is so important. It’s just hard sometimes,” I said.
She put her arm around me and pulled me close.
“Now, Zevi, tell me about your new friend. Reuvie was Zevi’s hashgachah story. Carol interjected and talked about Zevi taking off.
Mommy chastised him. “You can’t run off like that, Zevi. It’s the woods and it’s dangerous. Do you understand? You had everyone worried.”
Zevi gave one of his winning smiles and claimed he understood.
…
The next morning, Mommy was lying on the couch when I came into the main room of the cabin. “Lizzie, I have a terrible headache. I think it’s from all the traveling. Please tell the Talshins that I am so sorry and I’ll take a rain check.”
“You want us to cancel and stay with you?”
“No, sweetie. I need the quiet, and Zevi is so excited about going to his new friend. Carol will stay here with me.”
So, it ended up being just me, Dovid, and Zevi heading to the Talshins for Shabbos lunch.
As we strolled down the wooded path, Dovid said to me, “Come on, Lizzie, I know what you’re thinking.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re thinking, see, Mommy’s not coming with us. Her work always takes priority and makes it so she can’t come.”
I kicked a stone on the path. “I wasn’t thinking that!”
Zevi was running ahead.
“Wait up,” Dovid called to him.
“I think we should have stayed home with Mommy. We don’t know these people at all—”
Just then, I saw a girl around my age coming towards us. She had long, blonde hair in a ponytail, big blue eyes, and a pronounced frown.
“Are you the guests? We’ve been waiting a while for you.” She turned away and headed towards the cabin before I could say anything.
“Nice greeting,” I muttered to Dovid.
Dovid ignored me and strode ahead with Zevi in tow. I followed behind, wishing I hadn’t come. I’m not so keen on meeting new people, and I especially don’t like eating in new people’s houses. What if I don’t like the food? It can be embarrassing to be a picky eater like me.
Mrs. Talshin greeted us warmly. When she opened the door, the smell of cholent permeated the air and it smelled delicious. Mrs. Talshin was wearing a pretty, brown sheitel and a long, flowered green dress. “So happy you could come.” She introduced us to Rabbi Talshin, and there was another man there who looked a lot like her. “This is my brother Yeshaya, and I think you met Dalya, my niece, and over there is Aharon. A tall boy around Dovid’s age strode over and shook Dovid’s hand.
The uncle nodded at us.
Dovid explained why our mother wasn’t there.
“Oh, I was so looking forward to meeting her. You’ll have to take some food back with—“Oh, I forgot. There is no eruv here.”
We sat down at the table, and Rabbi and Mrs. Talshin tried to help us feel at home. Dalya was seated next to me. I tried to be polite.
“What grade are you in?” I asked her, after we’d heard Kiddush and HaMotzi. “Going into eighth,” she said.
And that was all she said the entire time, except for asking me to pass the salt.
The food was good, and I had a nice time, despite the grumpy girl seated next to me.
Dovid and Aharon hit it off. They talked about their learning together.
Zevi and Reuvie were playing happily together in the living room.
Mrs. Talshin’s uncle sang z’miros with Rabbi Talshin, and he shared a nice d’var Torah about remembering that Hashem is always with us no matter what.
“Daddy, can we go to town tonight?” Dalya asked.
“We’ll see,” he said. “It’s Shabbos now.”
“I want to go to town. Mommy always liked to do that on Motza’ei Shabbos.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Would you like more cholent, Shaya?” Mrs. Talshin asked her brother.
“No, but it’s delicious.”
Dalya stood and left the table and headed upstairs.
“I’m sorry. She’s just not been herself since––”
Rabbi Talshin started another zemer, but I got the idea that Dalya must have lost her mother.
I felt bad for her, but I still didn’t think it excused her rudeness.
After the meal, we thanked the Talshins, and Mrs. Talshin said that Zevi could stay until after Shabbos. “Tell your mother I hope she feels better,” she said.
…
Towards the end of Shabbos, we headed with Ima to pick up Zevi and to hear Havdalah. Mrs. Talshin’s brother answered the door.
“Hello, Rabbi Talshin, so nice to meet you. Thank you for hosting my children this Shabbos. I was just so exhausted from the trip to Washington,” Mommy stepped into the house.
I tried to nudge her. He wasn’t Rabbi Talshin.
“I’m not Rabbi Talshin. He’s my brother-in-law.”
Mommy tried not to act flustered. “I’m sorry, I just assumed.”
A minute later, Rebbetzin Talshin appeared.
“Come in, come in. Please join us for Havdalah.”
Mommy repeated her thank you’s.
I felt embarrassed for her.
Dovid and Aharon made up to learn together after Havdalah.
Zevi wanted to sleep over, but Mommy said that he was too young and that he’d play with Reuvie tomorrow.
After Havdalah, Mommy asked Rebbetzin Talshin how long they were staying in the park.
“We’re here the whole summer,” she said.
“I wish we could stay that long,” Mommy said. “I have a lot of work to do. I work on behalf of Syrian Jews, and there’s a ton of things I have to take care of. We have a foundation in memory of my husband and—”
I wished Mommy wouldn’t start talking about that now. It felt too pushy, like she was asking for a donation or something. Why did that always have to be her main conversation?
During Havdalah, just like during the meal, Dalya stayed far away from me. A perpetual pout sullied her pretty face.
When it was time to go, their family all said good-bye except for Dalya, and Dovid stayed to learn with Aharon.
Zevi was complaining that he wanted to stay, and his kvetching was irritating.
…
It was an hour after we’d gotten home, and Zevi finally stopped crying and went to sleep, when the phone rang.
Mommy answered.
“So nice of you to have had us and––. What? Really? Well, I’ll—I’ll think about it. Yes, thank you.”
She hung up, looking surprised.
“What is it?” I asked after she hung up.
“Mrs. Talshin just called. She said her brother, the uncle, who I first thought was Rabbi Talshin…”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“He wants to know if I would go out with him on a shidduch date. Rebbetzin Talshin would be the shadchan.”
A shidduch date? “You said no, didn’t you?” I asked.
“I didn’t say no,” Mommy said. “I’m thinking about it.”
“But Daddy…” You can’t do this. How could she even consider it. No one could replace Daddy. This was not a good idea—not at all…
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of an historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishing, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishing, 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers, 2020), Denver Dreams (a novel, Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine, “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022), and Alaskan Gold ( 2023-2024).
