Chapter 25 summary: Larry tells Yaffa that as long as he’s alive, there’s no need for her to take over his finances. Debbie presses Ari and Yaffa to step up their campaign, which makes both siblings uncomfortable. Gail tells Ilana that she can’t understand why everyone seems upset at her.

Yaffa was staring so intently at the papers in her hand that she startled at Shmuel’s voice from behind her.

“What’s so interesting?” he asked, peering over her shoulder.

He pulled back, eyebrow raised. “My Dad disinherited me and how it tore our family apart?”

Yaffa flushed. “It’s a fascinating article.”

Shmuel glanced at the size of the paper stack. “Looks more like a novel.”

“Nah, those are other articles I’ve collected. You know, for Debbie’s … plan.”

Shmuel’s eyes creased, but he didn’t say anything.

He’d been maintaining a resolute silence ever since the will had been discovered, claiming that he had no right to express an opinion since they weren’t his parents. Yaffa had to admit, it made for a refreshing contrast with her sister-in-law — but it was driving her crazy. How could her husband not understand that she needed someone to rant and rave together with?

Suddenly determined to provoke a reaction — any reaction — Yaffa stood up and said, with a glint in her eye, “What’s your opinion of Debbie’s plan? Do you think it could work?”

Shmuel looked away. “I don’t think you want my opinion.” He scratched his chin. “Actually, I think you already know it.”

Yaffa stopped. When she’d related to him the conversation she and Debbie had, he’d made a neutral comment about how nice it was that they’d gotten together for lunch, and left it at that. Did she know what he thought of their scheme?

She stared down at the stack of papers that Debbie wanted her to plant around her parents’ house. Ilana had told her about her conversation with their mother. So Mom was worried that she’d somehow offended the kids, was she? Well, maybe she should have taken that into account before writing them out of her will!

Still, the thought of her mother feeling so fragile and insecure around her own children somehow wouldn’t leave her mind.

Yaffa frowned. Did she know what Shmuel thought of their scheme? Of course, she did. Because it was the same opinion she’d been increasingly forming herself — that there was something that felt very wrong about trying to manipulate their parents behind their back.

Yaffa tapped her finger on the paper for several seconds. “Do you think … I should ask a shayla about this?”

Shmuel’s “YES!” came so quickly and adamantly that it was clear he’d been waiting for weeks for her to see the light. And now that she’d voiced it aloud, the truth was clear to her as well. How could she not have realized that this was a case to discuss with a rav?

“Okay, I’ll call Rabbi Reicholtz tonight.”

Debbie stared down at Yaffa’s text. “She wants to invite Jake for Shabbat,” she said to Ari. “And she wants to speak with me about something.” She raised her eyebrow. “I’m not sure which one of those sounds more ominous.”

Ari squinted at the text. “Come one, it’s nice of them to invite Jake. You know he’d love it.”

“Oh yes, I do. He’ll love it so much that before you know it, he’ll be wanting to move to Lakewood.” Debbie’s eyes narrowed. “And ‘nice?’ Give me a break. Don’t pretend you don’t know why they’re doing this. Jake has become their kiruv case.”

Ari raked his hand through his hair. He had hoped that the recent thaw in Debbie’s relationship with his sister would improve her attitude about the rest of the family’s interactions as well, but it was clear that religion was just too sensitive a topic.

“Deb, Jake’s spent his entire last year in Israel spending Shabbat at different families, and he’ll be doing the same next year as well. Do you really think that forbidding him to spend one Shabbat at his cousins will prevent his ever being exposed to a different way of life?”

Debbie huffed, looking like she had a mouthful to say about that point. Hastily, Ari added, “Why don’t you call Yaffa and see what it was she wanted to discuss with you?”

Debbie pursed her lips. “Always the peacemaker, huh?” But she smiled a little as she took her phone out of the room and Ari felt his hopes lift. Maybe this really was the beginning of a new era in their family relationships. Though he would never admit it to Debbie, he personally didn’t see anything wrong with Jake being influenced by Shmuel and Yaffa. What was the worst that could happen? That he’d put on a black hat and spend a few years learning in kollel? Was that such a terrible thing?

He whistled as he picked up some books lying on the coffee table and placed them back on the bookshelf. How ironic would it be if his parents’ will would be the means of uniting the siblings?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shouting. Eyes widening, he rushed to the den, where Debbie was pacing back and forth, her mouth working furiously. She had apparently just hung up, because she was still glowering at the phone in her hand. When she saw Ari, she rushed at him.

“I should have known this would happen!” she shrieked. “Little Miss Holier Than Everyone Else in the World! Here I thought she was finally acting normal, that we actually saw eye to eye! I should never have trusted her!” She clenched her fist, breathing heavily.

“What happened?” Ari asked.

“What happened was that she got cold feet, and had to go ask her rabbi! And, surprise, surprise, the rabbi said no, assur, it’s forbidden to give your parents simple reading material! Forget about what they’re doing to us!”

Ari remained quiet and Debbie glared at him. “Nothing to say? Go ahead, take your sister’s side! You always do!” She was blinking rapidly, and her face suddenly quivered. “Sometimes I think you forget that — that I’m your wife.”

“Well, that went badly,” Yaffa said dryly, as she walked into the den where Shmuel was learning. Her hands were still trembling.

Shmuel looked up from his sefer. “Hmm?”

“I just told Debbie that I was pulling out of her little campaign. She did not take the news well. She started shouting at me that it would be my fault if we don’t get a penny from my parents’ will.”

“But you asked your rav! What does she expect you to do, ignore what he says?”

Yaffa grimaced. “Um, no, she expected me to not ask to begin with. And she’s furious with the rav as well. ‘How typical of rabbis! It’s always no, no, no. What about family? What about making sure there’s enough money to support the grandchildren? Doesn’t that matter?’”

She made a face. “And then she started ranting about how I must have told him that my parents have decided to leave all of their money to create a charitable foundation and of course, as a rabbi, that was just music to his ears, and how stupid could I be, the rabbi is probably trying to sabotage our efforts because he wants their millions to go to tzedakah instead of to us.”

Shmuel whistled under his breath. “Whoa, sounds like quite a conversation. What did you say?”

Yaffa’s nostrils flared as she lifted a shoulder. “I wasn’t going to just listen to her abusing me like that! I hung up.”

Shmuel nodded. “So I’m guessing that means Jake won’t be coming for Shabbat?”

Yaffa snorted in response and walked out of the room.

She bumped into Shani right next to the door. “Excuse me, sweetie,” she muttered.

Shani ran to her room, where Moriah was sitting and reading on the pull-out bed. She flounced down on the bed next to her cousin and grabbed her elbow.

“You’ll never believe what I just overheard …”

Ariella Aaron is an internationally published writer with a unique talent for writing stories that are entertaining and thought-provoking, with characters who are eminently relatable. A former resident of northern New Jersey, Ariella has now transplanted her family to Israel, where she is happily living the dream of raising her brood in our homeland.