“Okay, I’m not going to pressure you. I’m not a warden, and this isn’t a jail, and you are old enough, and smart enough, to think about your choices. But if you want my help or advice, I’m happy to talk to you anytime, Shaindele. All right? I was also once a teenage girl.”

Shaindele nodded gratefully. They wished each other good night.

Actually, Leah was relieved to be spared an outpouring of teen angst at the moment, facing as she was her own difficult, life-changing choices. It almost made her feel sick. She poured herself a cup of tea, nursing it in the darkened kitchen, rehearsing what she was going to say when Yaakov walked in. But then she thought, Tomorrow is my mikvah night! Why would I want there to be bad blood between us after two whole weeks of separation? No, she would put it off, at least until after she did her ablutions, when she could at least hold his hands as she spoke to him. It made so much more sense, right?

When Yaakov returned, they spoke to each other softly about their day, the usual small talk, falling asleep in their separate beds. The following day, she woke up with a smile, just thinking of the night ahead. She whistled as she dressed the children, who laughed and tried to pucker their lips and whistle, too, with little success but much laughter. And after she’d dropped them both off at school and day care, she hurriedly took care of her computer clients, creating a new email list for one, posting a few ads for others, then working on an online campaign for a local dress store.

She took care of the housework, the children, as efficiently as she could, all the while her mind and heart open to the night ahead. Yaakov came home early to help her, taking over dinnertime and bath time so she could leave early for the mikvah.

And when she returned, the house was quiet, the children already asleep, and Shaindele behind her closed bedroom door.

In their bedroom, she saw he had lit some candles and moved the beds together.

“I brought you a present,” he murmured after taking her into his arms and kissing her—lingering kisses filled with longing, amplified by the many unbearable days of separation they had endured.

She opened the small package, her eyes bright with pleasure.

“It’s a CD, Dance Neginah.” He smiled. “Jewish music for dancing at weddings. I’m sure the kids will love it.”