Benny put down the phone and returned to his Gemara. Tziporah got back to her clicking and tapping, but she had clearly been listening to every word
Benny handed two 100-shekel bills to the taxi driver, accepted his change, and slid out of the car. Meir followed.
The driver popped open the trunk. Benny pulled out the black suitcase.
“Come, let’s go upstairs,” he said.
Meir followed him up.
“Hi, Tziporah,” Benny said softly as he let himself into the apartment. “You remember Meir, right?”
Tziporah came to greet them. She was wearing a tichel and looked tired, but she smiled in welcome.
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
