Riva forced herself to voice her deepest fear. “I really care about… the learning thing. I really care about… a home attached to Torah. I need to know he’s there too”
“Y
our problem,” said Mali, “is that you wouldn’t know your bashert if you bumped right into him on the street.”
“Of course not,” Riva retorted. “That would be mortifying and humiliating, and we would probably run in opposite directions without even exchanging insurance information. Besides, I did not ‘bump into’ this guy. I met him on six occasions in various hotel lounges at prearranged times after an extensive research and vetting process.”
Mali ignored this. “Is he a mensch?”
“Yes.” Reluctantly.
“Is he smart?”
“Yes.”
“I guess his feet are too big or something?”
“You’re just hilarious.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s learning.”
Mali drew a breath. “Are you crazy?”
The problem with analyzing a shidduch with your best friend is that if you end up marrying him, you don’t want your friend to know you ever had any misgivings or that he has any flaws. Riva hesitated.
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