“I think we’re going to tell him we’re ending it, not her. Then his image is intact, his self-respect is where it should be. He’ll get over it quickly, I’ll have a date set up for him by this Motzaei Shabbos.”
For the Bauers, this was their first child in shidduchim; every detail was new and fascinating. From the moment Ushy had disembarked at Kennedy on Rosh Chodesh Nisan (That’s our Ushy, Brachie had said proudly, he refused to come home before Rosh Chodesh, even though the Goodman boy is already home a week), Brachie had been crowing about her son, her metzuyan, her baal middos, product of the best yeshivos (he went to the real Brisk!).
The perfect boy, and the shadchan hadn’t wasted any time. Brachie needed three days to make him over, but as soon as Ushy was ready, Heshy had him walking up the impressive front steps of the Sandberger home.
Aviva Sandberger was the girl of Brachie Bauer’s dreams — not life-of-the-party but not a wallflower either, dresses well but still tzniyusdig, assertive but flexible, intelligent but not brainy, and of course, the ever-popular frum but normal. Sure, she needed reassurance — the girl was 21 — but Heshy’s assertion that “21 is the new 18” seemed to calm her.
After just one date, Heshy flashed a thumbs-up to his wife Hindy. “This one will go all the way,” he said confidently. Things progressed; from Diet Coke in the lounge, moving on to desserts, even bowling and Build-A-Bear (What should we call it? There was a long silence, and then Ushy suggested “Bear?”).
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