She rolls her eyes. “Don’t listen to me, then. But don’t come crying when things aren’t working out”
C
haim is home for Shabbos, wearing his chassan status like a new suit – mostly proud, and just a little self-conscious.
“How’s the countdown?” Henny asks him, exaggeratedly. “Getting nervous?”
Chaim shakes his head a little before responding. “Countdowns are for girls, ask Zeesy.” He still colors at her name, it’s cute.
“Leave him alone,” Sheva, married two years, orders, with a sidelong look at her own husband. “Soon it’ll be you, Henny.”
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