The last of the mispallelim were filtering out of shul. Frankel had to ask the Rav one more time about the hechsher at Gastronomic Glatt Werner was putting away siddurim and Glauberman was learning.
Chaim was trying to be ma’avir sedrah but it was hard to concentrate: the Rav had asked him to hang around for a minute after Maariv so they could speak and Chaim was trying to prepare himself for what he knew was coming.
Twenty-five years ago when the thriving shul had hired the talented young rabbi most of Chaim’s friends had forged relationships and chavrusas with him: Chaim had stood back refusing to commit. Chaim liked the man appreciated his drashos and shiurim but they didn’t have much of a personal connection. The Rav had come and danced along at all of Chaim’s simchos always speaking warmly and Chaim had never turned down an appeal for funds but there had been few real conversations over the years.
Chaim had the sense that the Rav was as uncomfortable as he was by the time the shul emptied and they sat down in the front corner.
