September 25, 2026 Categories: Features
Persuaded – Chapter XLVI
Zahava
Velvel has given Chani his blessing to renew her shidduch with Effi. Zahava watched from the upstairs window as her sister Chani left the house, wearing a sage-colored skirt and a flowery blouse, accompanied by Effi Weinberg. Both wore wide smiles as he opened the door of his Tesla for her, then started the car and pulled away from the house. With each date, they seemed happier and happier, and it was all just so darned irritating. Zahava shook her head in disbelief. Her sister Chani was now dating the brother of the woman occupying her house? It felt so strange. Was he even worthy to marry an Elman, this upstart tech millionaire who grew up in a tiny frame house in Passaic? Well, she supposed Chani had to marry somebody, and at age 27 she couldn’t be so picky. But Zahava herself could never go for some geeky engineer type from Palo Alto, even if he was pretty good-looking. The only good news was that Yerucham Elman was available again, and her father had called Mrs. Lowy, the shadchan, again to push the idea of a shidduch. Yerucham was someone worthwhile for her to pursue. There certainly wasn’t anyone else available who met her standards. It was so depressing to watch Chani go out on a date when she hadn’t had one herself in way too long. She had been so very, very busy with the gala at the Bergers’ house, running around like it was her own engagement party (halevai!). She was immensely proud of the job she’d done with it, especially because it involved sourcing all the food and décor in a town that was new to her. She’d made some good contacts in the process. Everyone agreed the evening was a smashing success, and the yeshiva had raised close to two million dollars! (It did sting a little to admit that a hefty portion of it came from this same Effi Weinberg and his sister and brother-in-law.) Mrs. Berger had even proposed that when their baby was ready for an upsherin, Zahava should plan the party for them. That would fun, she thought, because the Bergers would spare no expense for their little prince. What theme would they choose? Outer space? Construction sites? Racing cars? Rebbetzin Dinnerstein’s stay in the U.S. came to a close once the gala was over, and the month of Elul began. She needed to get back to Eretz Yisrael, to her other children and grandchildren and her many chesed activities. “No one can make kugel for the poor of Bnei Brak like my mother,” Rebbetzin Coopersmith had sighed, in a rare moment of loquaciousness. Hence their suitcases were packed, stuffed to overflowing with Velvel and Zahava’s gifts of clothing for the adult relatives and toys for Rebbetzin Cooperman’s children. (Chani wisely suggested weighing them with a luggage scale, the result being that they regretfully had to leave behind two pairs of Zahava’s barely-worn winter boots and three Pyrex dishes contributed by Mrs. Berger.) Velvel and Zahava drove them to Newark to catch their flight, and Rebbetzin Dinnerstein promised to continue praying for a good shidduch for Zahava (and, as an afterthought, for Chani). She also would pray for Velvel to get back on his feet financially and be able to live in his own home again. “I will take a day to go to the Kotel and pray just for you,” she promised. But once having disposed of their distinguished company, Zahava was at loose ends. She organized one birthday party for a neighbor’s four-year-old daughter (unicorn theme, color scheme pink, purple, and sparkly), but no other job propositions had come in despite the name recognition the gala had garnered her in Lakewood. There had been the brief distraction of Mindy and her family’s visit, but it was just a few days, and they went by quickly. Anyway, that was as much an aggravation as a pleasure, since it fell on her to organize the family barbecue, on top of the annoying fact that the whole visit came about because two girls younger than her were getting married and needed to look for gowns. Even though she would never in a million years have been interested in the kind of guys they were marrying. Zahava was bored, honestly. The summer was just about over, and the summer people, Rikki included, would soon be going back to Brooklyn, leaving her behind. But as it was, she was seeing less of Rikki, who kept running out on makeup gigs or shopping for her children’s school and holiday wardrobes. Between Chani’s dates with Effi, and Rikki increasingly running out on various unnamed errands, she was starting to feel abandoned. Where was Rikki today? She opened her phone and texted, “Where’d you get to?” A few minutes later a ping announced the reply: “Ran into Yerucham near Coffee Roast and we both went in to get a quick latte! He sends regards, and we haven’t stopped talking about you! See you later!” But there was no invitation to join them. Zahava found this disturbing. Well, maybe their meeting was very short, so it wouldn’t have made sense for her to drive over to join them just for a few minutes. But unless Rikki had truly spent time encouraging Yerucham to date her, she wasn’t at all happy with that little rendezvous. “Stop it,” she scolded herself. “Rikki is your best friend. She’s probably talking to Yerucham right now trying to persuade him what a great couple you’d make.” And soon Rikki would be gone. She’d leave for Brooklyn to get her kids settled into their school routines and spend the holidays with her family. Which brought her back to the eternal, plaguing question of how and where she and her family would spend the holidays. Should they just spend them alone? That worked okay for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, sober days which didn’t lend themselves to lively entertaining, and anyway her father would probably want to daven in the neighborhood. He had found a congenial shteibl—a minyan started by Pinny Friedman’s friends, older men who owned homes in the area and had quickly become Velvel’s shul buddies. Her father would want to spend Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur there, especially since word had gotten around that one of the rich guys was bringing in a top-notch chazzan to lead the prayers. Sukkos, however, was another story. Sukkos was supposed to be happy and fun. “You could come to me,” Mindy had volunteered, as she did every year. “Where would we sleep?” Zahava said. “You don’t have room for all of us in your house.” “I’ll put you up by a neighbor!” Zahava winced. Sleep in a stranger’s house? Sleep somewhere she’d have to put on a bathrobe every time she emerged from her room to use the bathroom? Where there might be screaming babies or bratty kids? Where she’d be forced to make conversation with the hostess and figure out an appropriate hostess gift? She just couldn’t see it. She was sure she would have nothing in common with Mindy’s neighbors, who were mostly hardworking young couples with modest homes and outsized bills. Neither did she want to spend Sukkos all alone with her father and Chani—how depressing! Could they find a hotel, maybe? She wanted to be around people, but not their neighbors in Toms River. Unlike Mindy’s neighbors, those folks had large, beautiful homes and money, but again included many young families. She did not want to be a guest at a family where the hostess was five years younger than her. Where could they go? She picked up a magazine and began perusing the ads. “Sukkos in the Poconos!” the ads screamed. “Sukkos in the Alps with skiing and hiking!” “Sukkos in Miami, beachfront hotel!” “Sukkos in Croatia, hosted by the celebrated Fleischer family!” (Croatia? Zahava thought. Who goes to Croatia? She wasn’t even sure where it was on the map.) “Sukkos in Myrtle Beach with top singers and inspiring rabbis!” “Sukkos in colorful Marrakech, with camel rides and kivrei tzaddikim!” She would have to ask Tatty what appealed to him, and (depressing thought) what they could afford. (The Croatia trip was the cheapest, no surprise there.) Oh look—Sukkos in Arizona, at a spa. That sounded lovely. Just the thing to calm her nerves, stretched ever and ever thinner by the ebullience on Chani’s part and the silence on Yerucham’s… She would definitely see if she could get Tatty on board.To be continued.
