Soon my small shanah rishonah apartment is going to be filled with nosy curious family members all eager to see how the new couple is doing
A
ryeh is rushing around like he has a plane to catch and frankly, he’s getting on Toby’s nerves.
“Aryeh,” she says, tugging a chenille throw over herself, cozying up against the chaise. He launches into the kitchen, runs back out holding a thermos, turns around to grab the phone he’s left on the counter, then flies over to the closet for his briefcase and hat.
“Aryeh,” she says again, louder this time.
He looks at her and skids to a halt. “What?! Sorry, what?” he says, modulating his tone.
She calmly rearranges the throw again and waits a beat before answering him. She’d learned long ago that matching his energy just leaves both of them feeling panicked.
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