“ The departure of Allan and the Rabbi from the den, probably to the kitchen to report to the handful of other Brandeses their failure to persuade Simon to hold a traditional ceremony, seemed to be a sign to everyone else that they could come in and see my mother. Almost immediately, the den was filled with people.
We stood and started shaking hands with, or hugging, everyone who came into the room. My mother’s friend Rosemary, who was crying and holding a tissue, said, “I just can’t believe it.”
My mother said, “I can’t either.”
Though I sensed it was becoming more and more believable for all of us.
In the middle of her conversation with Rosemary, my mother looked at Simon. “Is Harry here yet?”
“Soon.”
I figured she was saving her biggest crying spell for Harry’s arrival, and I was
