I had to reread the email, thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

Hi Abby,

We’re good to go. How long does it take to make the ring? Hope not as long as the planning stage. Can I rush-job it? Is that an option? If it is, let me know — whatever it takes.

Thanks for everything,

Susanna

Did we finally reach this point? Was it possible, there was daylight at the end? And could we do a rush job? I’d probably do a rush job even if she didn’t ask for it; I just want to get it over with already!

I twirled my chair in celebration, then got back to work confirming purchase orders I had filled out weeks ago and was finally submitting for Susanna’s ring.

I texted Rafi the news.

We should celebrate! Dinner at Noi Due Carne ;)

At least we were joking about it now.

I sat back down and took out a fresh piece of graphing paper — it was finally time for Shifra, now that I knew how much I had to work with. I looked at the paper, put a pencil to it, but then I stopped. What was I making?

Shifra had a new kallah bracelet, a ring, and she’d be getting a necklace of some sort in the yichud room. What was left? Earrings or a pin. I was not making Shifra a pin — she’s not 80. Was Ari going to buy her earrings? Was he the Hungarian sort, or Spartan American? This engagement jewelry business is ridiculous.

I doodled a few shapes on the paper. It would have to be earrings. That was the only thing she maybe didn’t have. I twirled in my chair to give me fresh eyes, then got to work. I was at it a little while when the phone interrupted me. Who was calling? I don’t want to talk to anyone.

Lobel, Shalom, read the caller ID. Who was that? The name sounded familiar, but I wasn’t placing it.

“Can I speak to Schorr?” a rushed, gruff voice said. Oh, a kid for Daniel. Let’s have fun.

“Schorr?” I said. “I’m Schorr. Who in the Schorr house?”

There was a long pause. “The boy Schorr.” Another pause. “Daniel.”

Oooh, he knows his name, impressive.

“Hold on,” I told him.

I left my workroom.

“Daniel,” I called, “phone!”

Daniel appeared quickly, looking a bit bewildered. I realized then this was the first phone call he’s gotten since we moved.

“Hello?”

He sounded so timid I wanted to hug him. He listened for a minute, eyes a bit confused, then came a small smile.

“Sure, I’ll ask my mother,” he said.

He covered the mouthpiece, “Can I go over to Lobel on Shabbos?”

I blinked. A playdate? A playdate! (Excerpted from Family First, Issue 573)