She had left Duvie sitting at the bar without saying goodbye, finding her way back to the subway. A kind Black woman had swiped her through the turnstile and even refused to accept payment. “We’ve all been there, honey,” she said.

She remembered the Black woman in Grand Central on her way to Baltimore who had showed her the way to her platform, the first Black person she had ever spoken to, and how she had been terrified to even walk near her and had never even thanked her. She wouldn’t let that happen again. “Thank you so much!” she’d told the woman, who’d smiled and waved.

She’d dozed off on the train but had luckily been shaken awake by a sudden movement of the rattling old car just before her stop. Otherwise, she would be wandering on the tracks in Coney Island.

“We’ll talk about this now!” Yaakov said firmly.

“Shaindele, we were so worried. We called your friend Shulamis,” Leah said softly.

“Shulamis? You called Shulamis? Why?”

“Because your brother was very sick, and we needed to go to the emergency room!” Yaakov slammed a hand against his fist.

“We wanted you to come home and babysit,” Leah continued patiently.

“Mordechai Shalom? What’s wrong with him? Is he all right? What happened?”

“He’s sleeping. He had a very high fever and started to shake,” Fruma Esther chimed in. “And you, where were you? Yenne-velt! Who knows what could have happened to you, a young girl out alone at this time of the night?” She shook her head, heaving a huge sigh that made her breasts rise and fall like dough. “HaShem be blessed for watching over you! So foolish! Why do you worry your parents like that? Again! After Baltimore! Your family was on shpilkes! I’m very disappointed in you, maideleh. Explain yourself.”

What could she say? She was actually too tired to make up a story.

“I went to Greenwich Village with Duvie Halpern. We listened to jazz.”

“Duvie Halpern? Rabbi Halpern’s—your principal’s—boy?” Yaakov asked, hoping for some reprieve from the awfulness of this story.

She nodded. “The one that works at Moishy’s Pizza.”

“Rabbi Halpern has a son who works in a pizza store? Aren’t all his sons in Lakewood?”

“No, Tateh. Not Duvie. He got thrown out.”

Yaakov collapsed into the sofa.

Fruma Esther sat down heavily beside him. She was astonished at what direction this conversation was taking. That a granddaughter of hers, her flesh and blood, child of her saintly Zissele, should go off at night to meet strange boys. What a nightmare! Forget about dancing around with the kinderlach to a little music! If the yentas got hold of this story, there would be nothing she could do! She fanned herself.

“Can I get you some water, Bubbee?” Leah asked her anxiously.

She waved her away, but Yaakov brought her a glass anyway.