For a Change

As she took the rugelach from the pantry shelf, it suddenly clicked. Abandoning her plate with a clatter, she darted back to her office and banished the stray curly bracket on line 6874.

Satisfied at last, Shulamis returned to savor her snack as the program compiled.

“You have that conquering-hero look again,” remarked Zev, entering silently on slippered feet. “You know it’s nearly 2:30 a.m., right? I get up for a drink and you’re still buzzing around like it’s broad daylight.”

“I know, and I’m ready to call it a night, finally,” said Shulamis. “I found the error that was causing the application to hang all week. Just a curly bracket that slipped inside the parentheses instead of after.”

“That was what had the entire sales department at a standstill all week?” asked Zev, impressed. “I sure hope you’re charging them triple pay for this overtime.”

“Yes, and then telling them that there are no more crises allowed until Monday at least. You know Tatty’s coming for Shabbos. I need to cook.”

“You need to sleep.”

“I need to cook and then sleep. Which means no more emergencies until after the weekend, please.” Shulamis grabbed a peeler and a potato and attacked it with short, vigorous strokes.

“It’s good he’s coming,” remarked Zev. He filled a bowl with water and put it on the counter near Shulamis. “He’s been running himself ragged caring for Uncle Ira.”

“Yes, since Mommy was niftar it’s all been on him. It’s simply too much for him, but I don’t know what to do. He still won’t ask Dizzy for help. Cousins who practically grew up in each other’s houses, and they won’t talk out their differences.”

“It’s been what, eight years since their falling out?”