She glanced in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick. She was becoming her mother. But it wouldn’t hurt to look presentable.

Amy already had a menu out for Nechama. There was no one else there. A second home? But they already had a beach house.

They schmoozed over their orders, small talk, shop talk — Amy wasn’t a decorator, but she had good taste. And then Amy stated her business.

“You’re wondering why I invited you here. Listen, Nikki. I have a nephew, really great guy. Tall, dark, and handsome. Smart — he’s a lawyer — sense of humor, everything you can ask for.”

“Uh, Amy, that’s so sweet of you to think of me, but—”

“Nikki, listen. I know you’d never go for a guy who wasn’t observant. Dan’s turned observant on us. I’m not sure what happened, but he’s been kosher for over a year now, doing Shabbat, and—”

“Amy, really, I appreciate it. But I don’t—”

“No, Nikki, let me finish. He even wears a yarmulke to work now. My sister-in-law was not happy. Especially at his age, you know. He’s 33, he has a great job, he should be settling down. Instead he gets this observant bug in his head. Now he tells my brother he’ll only marry someone observant, he won’t—”

“Amy, I—”

“Listen. He’s perfect for you, Nikki. Do you remember, I tried to set you up with him when you were doing my house—”

Nechama remembered. She’d commented on his graduation picture, only to make conversation. But Amy had begun listing her nephew’s virtues, trying to set them up even then, and it had been awkward, trying to explain why it could never work.

“I won’t take no for an answer, Nikki.” Amy was saying. “You know me. I know you don’t have Facebook, but I’m going to give him your info and tell him to call.”

Nechama nodded. What else could she do? So he’d call her, she’d politely decline, and it would be over.

It was 20 minutes before Shabbos when Dan called. Nechama ignored the phone. It was 20 minutes after Shabbos when he called a second time. She missed that one, too. But she couldn’t ignore his text.

Hi Nikki. Dan Werner here. My aunt Amy loves you — hope she warned you I’d call. Would love to connect. When’s a good time?

There was a pit in Nechama’s stomach as she read the text. It wouldn’t be nice to ignore him. She called back quickly, not giving herself time to think. Sometimes things went better when they weren’t rehearsed.

Nechama thought she’d been pretty open with Dan, so she was surprised to see Amy’s number on her caller ID a few days later.

"N

ikki, no way.” Amy didn’t even say hello. “You don’t have to marry Dan, but you do need to give him the time of day.”

“Amy, thanks for thinking of me. I appreciate it. And he’s a nice guy, I could tell. But it won’t work. Hear me out.” She gave Amy a brief synopsis of shidduch dating.

“You have the same values, believe me,” Amy said when she was done. “He wants the same things you want. A happy, healthy home. He’s committed to Judaism, and he wants to raise committed children.”

“I’m sure he does. But there’s more than that.” Nechama took a deep breath. “Our worlds are so different. I— for example, I believe in learning Torah for the sake of learning Torah. If I lived in Israel, my husband, my kids wouldn’t go into the army.”

“What does the army have to do with it?” Amy huffed. “You don’t live in Israel.”

“Look,” Nechama said, trying another tactic. “Ask him for the name of his rabbi. I’ll talk to the rabbi and try to figure out if this can work.”

“His rabbi? You’re two adults. Meet for coffee and figure it out.”

“I’m sorry, Amy. I don’t mean to be difficult, but I can’t do that.”

“You’re as stubborn as Dan, Nikki. I’ll get you the rabbi’s number.”

"D

ovid, I need your help,” Nechama said.

“Nu?”

Nechama brought her older brother up to date. Amy was no slouch, she’d called Nechama back within minutes with the name of Dan’s rabbi.

“You serious about this?”

“I don’t know. On the one hand, of course not. On the other, what’s to lose by calling? I haven’t dated in six months.”

“What do Mommy and Abba say?”

“I was hoping you’d help out with that, too,” Nechama said. “I’m petrified to even bring this up.”

“So why go ahead?”

“Well, for one, to get Amy off my back. But also—” Nechama hesitated.

“Nu?”

“I spoke to him once, when he first called. To tell him it was DOA. It was a half-hour conversation. I couldn’t hang up.” Didn’t really want to. “He’s smart and personable and funny — I could tell all that right away.” Nechama thought back to the conversation she’d been replaying in her mind for the past few weeks. Are you sure? Dan had asked. Because they say I’m a nice guy. I might change your mind. He’d given a self-deprecating laugh that took the boast out of his statement. She knew it made no sense, but guys were so few and far between. She wanted to meet him.

“We left off that it was DOA,” she continued. “But his aunt is pressuring me, and she’s sent a lot of clients my way. I think I should at least call the rabbi. Then I’d have an excuse.”

“You’re an adult, Nechama,” Dovid said finally. “If this is what you want, I’m happy to look into him for you.”

Dovid also moved quickly. He gave his okay two days later. “I think you should go for it. This Rabbi Heller, he’s a regular yeshivish guy, learned in Brisk, learns in the morning, gives classes in Dan’s office  — he spoke very highly of him.”

“Really?”

“He sounds like he’ll make a very good husband. That’s what matters.”

“And his commitment, his—”

“Nechama, let’s agree that if I’m telling you to meet the guy, I think he’s there. He’s not on your level now, but Rabbi Heller seems confident that that’s where he’s headed.”

“Let me think about it.”

“Don’t think. Do it. Meet him once, twice. See how you like him, if you can handle his background.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nechama said again.

“Well, think fast. Because I, uh, basically told this guy Heller to tell Dan to call you.”

H

ey Nikki. Doing anything tonight?

She’d been out with Dan a few times and couldn’t get used to this. She’d suggested using Rabbi Heller as a go-between, but Dan had scoffed.

“I can’t do that, Nikki. I know that’s how it’s done in observant circles, but it’s not for me. I’ve dated before and I never hid behind a yenta to decide if I liked a girl. I’m a direct person. If I want to see you again, I ask you out. If I don’t, I say, ‘Thank you, have a good night,’ and leave it at that.”

Nechama had shivered. But hearing him say it, it seemed to make so much sense. She thought about explaining why shadchanim worked, but didn’t think he’d buy it anyway. He came from a different world.

Nothing, she wrote. And then, feeling like a BY rebel, she added yet.

She was not surprised when he called a few minutes later. “I can’t talk now, I’m about to walk into a meeting. Dinner tonight? There’s a nice place near my office, or we can go anywhere you’d like.”

“Dinner sounds nice, thanks. What’s your place called? I just want to check the hashgac—”

Dan laughed. “I’m not ignorant, Nikki. Rabbi Heller told me about this place. Steak Out, on Riverside. Let me know. Text me, I won’t be able to talk.”

She replied an hour later.

Steak Out sounds great. When?

6:30? 7? Can I pick you up?

Now she wished she had the guts to call. Or that they were using a shadchan. She wouldn’t mind being picked up — it would be nice — but it meant his driving to Brooklyn, then back to the restaurant, then back to Brooklyn to drop her off, then back home to Manhattan. She felt stupid asking for it.

She was still debating when he texted again.

Please. I’d like to.