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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.

“It’s… you know… I need a serious guy.”

“Riva, any guy who’s 30 and single and still learning is serious.”

“I guess.” Was Levi serious? He was generous and smart and chilled and outgoing and funny. It was hard to picture him being serious.

“Mali,” Riva tried again, “I need you to listen to me. No one else will.”

Mali muttered something.

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.” She fell silent.

“Don’t tell him any of that,” Mali warned, “or you’ll never see him again.”

“But then how can I marry him?” A car pulled up outside her window. Riva stood up.

“Riva, just tell me one thing: Is he normal?”

“Yes,” said Riva instantly, without thinking.

“That’s your answer,” said Mali.

“But…” Riva began. The doorbell rang. “He’s here!”

“Grab him and run,” Mali advised, and hung up.

Riva slipped on her heels, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway. When she caught sight of Levi her heart sank.

She wasn’t sure how a girl was supposed to feel on a seventh date with a guy she might soon be engaged to. But she was pretty sure her heart should not be sinking.

Levi turned around and smiled. “Hi,” he said. She nodded. He seemed happy to see her. This was so awful. She was so awful.

“Ready?”

She was not ready. She should not be going on this date. She should have said no. Levi Feurwerker was not for her.

She nodded again.

“Ladies first.” He assumed a snooty-butler expression and opened the door with a flourish. Riva glanced down. His feet were kind of big.

He was tall enough, she assessed mentally as they walked to the car. He was good-looking enough, he was nice enough. He was, she admitted begrudgingly, very nice, in fact. He was even funny, which is the kind of thing that makes your friends jealous when you get engaged.

But he wasn’t serious. There was no passion. How could she have led him on like this? The shadchan was going to kill her.

Mali’s voice was in her head, repeating everything she’d been saying since she started dating Levi four weeks ago: This guy is a gem. You’ve never met someone like him before. Middos are the main thing. It was all true, but…

Grab him and run!

Levi slammed the door.

Riva felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. How had she not thought of this before?

“How are you?”

She turned a brilliant smile toward him. “Wonderful,” she said sincerely.

Levi was perfect. It was perfect. Riva could hear violins. Now announcing, for the very first time, she thought, LEVI AND MALI FEURWERKER!

***

S

apirman fell into step beside Levi as he walked up the wide steps to the glass doors.

Levi looked faintly annoyed. “Ambushing me again. I don’t know why you can’t just call me, like a normal shadchan.”

“A normal shadchan would have given up on you a long time ago.”

Levi sighed. “Listen, Yitz, I don’t think it’s gonna work. I’m sorry.”

“What’s the problem this time?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Levi waved vaguely. “It’s just not for me.”

“You know what your problem is,” Sapirman began. “You go on a date like you’re putting on a show. You say all the right things, but you never say what you’re really thinking.”

Levi waited for the rest, but it didn’t come. “In any case,” Sapirman continued after a pause, “it’s no longer relevant, since she called me this morning to say no.”

“What?” Levi stopped walking and jerked around to look at the shadchan. “Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“Tell me why!”

Sapirman shrugged. “I don’t really know. She just said, ‘not for me.’”

“Yitz,” Levi growled, “if I called you after seven dates and said, ‘not for me,’ would you say ‘okay, no problem, I’ll let her know’? Or would you give me the whole shmooze: commitment-phobic, you need to invest, go out one more time?”

“What makes you think I didn’t give her a shmooze?”

Levi looked stricken. “I hope you were nice,” he said. “You can’t say ‘you need therapy’ to Riv— to a girl!”

Sapirman raised his eyebrows. “Touching,” he said.

It was quiet for a moment.

“How’s tomorrow night, 8:30?” the shadchan asked.

“I’m not going out with a new girl tomorrow night.”

“I’m not talking about a new girl. I’m talking about this girl.”

Seriously, the guy was impossible. “What’s the point?”

“Just try talking to her straight for once in your life.”

“She’s not for me,” Levi said weakly.

“So there’s no risk.”

“I thought she said no?”

“When have you ever known me to take no for an answer?”