“Is everything all right with you, with John?” Leah asked softly, looking around anxiously for the tall, handsome pediatric surgeon who she knew was not only in the midst of converting to Judaism but was also finalizing the divorce from his first wife.

“He’s fine. Sends his love. He was on call tonight.”

“And your parents?” Leah whispered, knowing how hard the revelation of this relationship had hit her friend’s elderly, ultra-Orthodox parents, who had so hoped their only daughter would marry a distinguished Talmud scholar with parents from the old country.

Shoshana shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “No heart attacks or strokes, thank God! I know they’ll never really get over it, but at least now they’ll get to dance at my wedding. I’m sure they’re also relieved to know the real reason why all those shidduch dates never worked out.”

“Oh, those shidduch dates!” Leah groaned, remembering the ladies’ room in the Marriott Marquis on Broadway where they’d met, hiding out from blind dates—hers an on-the-spectrum misfit, and Shoshana’s a balding fiftysomething who had lied about his age.

Shoshana laughed, hugging her. “No more shidduch dates! Imagine!”

“There she is, delira and excira, the bride!” It was Dvorah, the Irish convert roommate who had first introduced her to religious life. “The good Lord works in mysterious ways.” She shook her head, smiling and shifting the weight of her toddler above her burgeoning belly. “Can’t wait to see you in maternity clothes, all fat and happy! A regular Boro Park matriarch!”

“Give her time.” Shoshana shook her head, taking the little girl’s pudgy hand in her own. “Your little girl is delicious. No wonder you can’t wait to have another.”

“I’ve already got children, remember?” Leah protested. “Five wonderful, perfect people I adore.” She looked over to where the two little ones were turning circles in the middle of the dance floor, sticky with sweets, their new shoes dulled by splashes of Coca-Cola and pink ice cream, their festive clothing stained with chocolate and who knew what else. They both needed baths.

“And three of them teenagers,” Shoshana murmured meaningfully.

“I love them all,” Leah insisted.

“Where are you spending the night?”

“At home. The children are staying the night with their grandmother and uncle.” Home, she thought a little frightened. Going home. A new home in an ultra-Orthodox Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn. Her final, forever home. Such a different life from what she’d planned or could even have imagined growing up in San Jose, California.

“Whose idea was that?” Shoshana asked with raised brows.

“Mine. I love my new life, and I can’t wait to start.”