A question! “Well, because when you have so much fun, people get jealous and then they want to join in and have fun, too. But I don’t want Mrs. Weitz to dance with us, do you?”

Chasya shook her head, beginning to giggle, astonished at the idea of the harried, heavy woman with her huge, pendulous breasts hopping up and down the way she did when she danced.

“So we’ll be very, very quiet and dance like this,” Leah said, putting Mordechai Shalom down, then pulling down all the shades. She began tiptoeing softly in circles around the living room, humming her favorite sixties songs, waving her hands wildly, and shaking her head up and back like vintage Janis Joplin. The children laughed hysterically, following behind her, imitating her, not bothering to wait for her to put on music.

Their laughter, she thought, is better than any music, any antidepressant. I must never compromise or endanger it for any reason that is in my power to prevent. Please, God, make this my prayer. Help me to keep my word.

10

THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

She got to the coffee shop early, taking a seat by the window so that she might at least see her friend’s little red car pass by—there was no way she’d find a parking space nearby. It was an Italian convertible, an extravagant engagement present from John. “Who needs a diamond ring when all I do all day is sterilize my hands and put on rubber gloves?” Shoshana laughed.

He’d given her a ring anyway, a circle of marquise diamonds with a sapphire center stone, the “color of your eyes, my love.”

Leah looked at her own simple wedding band, which by custom must be of plain, unengraved, solid gold. Yaakov wanted to buy her an engagement ring. He was going to sell Zissele’s jewelry to pay for it, but she’d stopped him. “Put it away for Shaindele. She should have something from her mother.”

She really didn’t care, she kept telling herself. She’d known the life she was choosing when she fell in love with a haredi widower with five children.

She remembered her days as a hi-tech product manager and sales representative earning bonuses so obscene that she’d been able to afford anything: a Manhattan apartment she’d shared with Andrew, who made even more than she did; designer purses; season tickets to the Met and ballet. Often she’d pass by Tiffany’s and Bulgari on Fifth Avenue on her way to work, stopping to stare at the bling in the windows. She loved bling as much as any woman, she told herself. Just not enough to barter body and soul for it.

There she was, her dear friend, as slim and beautiful as ever! As usual rushing, just a little late.

“Shoshana!” She rose, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Sorry I’m late.”