“Ravi? You’re kidding me? He’s on his honeymoon with his twentysomething and back in his turban, until it starts giving him headaches—which it certainly will, trust me—and he takes it off again. Then she and the in-laws and his parents are going to come down on him like a ton of bricks! But hey, it’s a free world, and it was his stupid choice. So not my problem anymore.” Her voice trailed off unconvincingly. “But don’t worry about me. I’ve got someone new. His name is Jerry. He’s also originally from Brooklyn, like most of Florida. He runs the coffee shop down the block. Lost his wife last year. Cancer. I’ve known him for years. And yes, he’s Jewish. You see, I’m not prejudiced.”

Leah smiled. “Well, I’ve got a pile of work to do, Mom. I just wanted—”

“Listen, honey, why don’t you come down to Florida one of these days? Take a little vacation. Bring the kids, why don’t you? I’ve got a pool. I’ll buy a new barbecue and kosher food for you, and paper plates and stuff. You could use a few days off. Go jogging on the beach.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Think about it. Talk it over with your husband. How is he, your hunky Hasid?”

“He’s not a Hasid. And he’s trying to get used to working downtown instead of studying all day. It’s hard for him.”

“Well, I give him credit. I was wrong about him. I guess they are not all the same, living off their wives while they bitty-bitty-bum.”

“Let’s not get into this, Mom. Really, we’ve had such a nice talk.”

“Okay, okay, I never know when to shut my big mouth. And next time, let’s FaceTime. I want to show you my new hair color.”

“What, the spiky short blond with the black roots is gone?”

“With the wind! I was cloning too many of my clients. I let it grow, and now it’s your color, strawberry blond, but more strawberry. Jerry loves it.”