Shabbat called me Friday morning. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. You have something planned, right?”
“Wha—I—of course. Of course I have something planned, Shabbat. Why would you even ask?” I looked guiltily around the room, hoping no one would catch me in the lie. A few choice words came to mind while I scanned my contacts, trying to think of anyone who might be free, who would be willing to get together for a last-minute shindig.
That night, after a great meal and in the middle of a lively conversation, Shabbat leaned over to murmur in my ear. “You’re welcome.”
“For what?”
Shabbat gestured around the room.
I frowned. “You think I’m thankful to you for the party that I put together for your benefit?”
The look Shabbat gave me was a little pitying. “Seriously. What would you be doing tonight if it weren’t for me?”
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