They were both wrapped in towels, warm and fragrant from their baths. He helped Leah get their little struggling limbs into the pants and sleeves of their clean pajamas, all the while pretending to have lost an elephant in their room, which he insisted on searching for in their armpits and belly buttons, while they screamed in high hilarity. “Oh, you probably put it in the closet so you can play with it in the middle of the night. Is that what happened?” He tickled them.

“No, Tateh!” Chasya screamed. “It’s not an elephant. It’s a monkey! And it’s up there, hanging from the ceiling, waiting for you to leave!” She screamed, overjoyed, while little Mordechai Shalom repeated, “Monkey, monkey!” until Leah finally told Yaakov his “help” was no longer needed, and she’d meet him in the living room.

The reminder of the serious talk ahead wiped the smile off his face as he kissed his children good night. He sat down on the living room sofa, taking out a volume of the Talmud as he waited for Leah to join him. But he couldn’t concentrate, waiting impatiently for the moment they would face each other in the quiet room to renew their bond of trust and put this obvious misunderstanding behind them. He could not imagine any other outcome. He loved her, his children, this home, and for all its difficulties, his life.

He listened to the voices of the little ones as they said their bedtime prayers. And just then, the front door opened. It was Shaindele.

It was almost eight and already dark outside. He tried to remember where she could have been until this hour but could think of nothing.

“How was it, Tateh? The new job?” she asked him breathlessly, in a move he sensed was a deliberate attempt to forestall any interrogation.

“It was all right. New beginnings are always hard, child.”

She nodded. “I know it will go well with you, Tateh. May God bless you.”

“Thank you. You ate?” he asked her.

She hesitated. “I … I got a pizza. On my way home from studying with Shulamis.”

“A new friend?”

Shaindele nodded. “From Gateshead. We are good friends.”

“A fine institution, Gateshead. Best seminary in the world for Jewish girls. What is she doing in Boro Park?”

“Her father got a job as a rosh yeshiva.”

“Really? How wonderful for him.” His heart ached. “You go over there to study a lot? Did you tell Leah you’d be late?”

“I … I think so, but sometimes we just stay after school without planning it.”

“Ah, finally, asleep.” Leah sighed, walking into the living room. “Oh, Shaindele. I was wondering when you’d be getting home. Why so late?”

“She says she was studying with her friend from Gateshead, Shulamis.”

“So much work for seniors, right? I remember my last year of high school. It was a killer.”