She opened the refrigerator to rummage through the leftovers from their picnic bag. But just as she was about to kick herself for not preparing more food, the door opened.

“Breakfast!” Yaakov declared, placing two paper bags on the counter.

She unpacked. “This milk is cholov Yisroel! Where did you get it? And the little yogurts, they are the same ones we buy in Boro Park.”

“And there are also fresh rolls and cheese, cereal and cookies! I asked people in the synagogue, and they showed me where the kosher stores are, and the Jewish bakery and diner. All of them with the best hechsher!” he exulted like an oil prospector whose land has finally produced a gusher.

“I want to hear all about it!”

“You were so right, Leah! There is a large Orthodox Jewish community here! I couldn’t believe it. I walked to the shul, and on the way, I saw so many homes with mezuzahs! I couldn’t believe how full the weekday minyan was. And many of the men dress like I do,” he said with enthusiasm. “And there are two kosher restaurants, one milchig and one fleishig, both with an excellent hechsher.”

“Two? Wow.”

“After I went to the kosher supermarket and bakery and was walking back here, I saw two boys riding bikes ahead of me on the sidewalks. As I got closer, I saw they were both wearing yarmulkes, and one even had payos! I started talking to them. They both go to a local yeshiva. The older one, who’s in eighth grade, told me he’s learning Meseches Succah in Bava Metziah; Davarim; Shmuel Bais … And then the other boy told me they also learn math, English composition—that was the word he used, imagine, a little boy knows that word already!—and history, and a few other things I don’t remember.” He shook his head in amazement.

“Sounds like an excellent school.”

But Yaakov just continued to shake his head, murmuring again and again, “Imagine, in Virginia!”

“I was thinking we could take the day off instead of driving straight through. Do some sightseeing in the area, then head to Florida tomorrow?”

“And I could go to shul for the evening minyan, and then we could eat out lunch and dinner?”

She nodded. “And maybe we could check out the school, meet some of the parents…”

Their eyes met in perfect understanding.

35

THE PROPOSAL

Although Rav Alter tried everything to arrange for a personal meeting with the Bobelger Rebbe himself, explaining to the nephew that they were old friends, once again his request was politely and respectfully denied.

“I hear he has Alzheimer’s,” Rav Alter’s gabbai, Zevulun, whispered. “The nephew doesn’t want anyone to know. So he makes up pronouncements and halachic rulings himself, then tells everyone it’s from the rebbe.”