Teen Fiction
Sheva fluffed the final tablecloth for Mrs. Stern’s daugher’s Shabbos Sheva Brachos and watched it settle on the tables. Then she walked to the doorway and surveyed her handiwork. The Sheva Brachos looked perfect, just the way she’d imagined it when Mrs. Stern had asked her to help.
“Sheva, it looks wonderful!” Mrs. Stern popped up behind her and clapped. “I could never have done anything this perfect on my own! How much do you charge?”
“Oh…I don’t actually charge for this…” Sheva said, checking her watch. Nearly four o’clock. She had to rush home to get ready for Shabbos.
“You should! You did such an amazing job here.” Mrs. Stern ran a finger down the plum tablecloths she’d chosen. “You have a real knack for these things, young lady.”
Sheva shrugged. “It’s just a favor. I really didn’t mind. Sorry, I really have to go.”
“I’ll tell all my friends who set everything up,” Mrs. Stern called after her. “I’m sure everyone will want to hire you.”
As she took the stairs up to the lobby of the shul two at a time, Sheva shook her head. Party planning was fun, not a job. She just happened to be good at it.
***
Monday morning, Sheva tapped her foot and checked her watch. Hadassah was late, as usual. Still, as long as she showed up in the next five minutes —
“Sorry sorry sorry!” Hadassah flew out the door, her scarf drifting in the wind behind her. “I overslept, and it’s Monday, and —”
“You’ve never been on time since we started walking to school.” Sheva laughed. “Coffee?”
Hadassah’s eyes widened comically. “How can you even ask? On a Monday?”
“I know, I know.” Sheva held up her hands in mock surrender. “If we walk fast, we’ll have enough time.”
They all but ran down the block, Hadassah trying to zip her coat without tripping. By Sheva’s watch, they had five spare minutes to order coffee.
The door to Mocha Mocha Café, the coffee shop nearest school, jingled merrily as they slid into the warm, aromatic store. Sheva and Hadassah shoved their way through the other high school girls waiting for their coffee until they found the end of the line.
They reached the front of the store, and Sheva allowed Hadassah to order before her. Hadassah rattled off her order and stepped aside. Sheva moved into her place.
“Good morning!” She smiled at Mrs. Auerbach, who owned the store. “Can I get a medium iced caramel latte, extra caramel, less ice, no whipped cream?”
“Certainly!” Mrs. Auerbach tapped the screen of her register. “That’ll be $3.95. By the way, Sheva, I wanted to tell you, the Sterns’ Sheva Brachos was gorgeous! Baila told me you were the one to plan everything for her?”
It took a moment for Sheva to remember that Baila was Mrs. Stern’s first name. “Thanks! It wasn’t that hard. I like doing it.”
“Really? Would you mind helping me with my son’s bar mitzvah?” Mrs. Auerbach ignored the grumbles from the girls behind Sheva. “I’d pay you, of course.”
Sheva shook her head. “I do it for fun, not for —”
“Shevs!” Hadassah tugged her elbow and smiled at Mrs. Auerbach. “Can she give you an answer after school?”
Mrs. Auerbach chuckled at their antics. “No problem.”
***
Sheva and Hadassah raced through the door seconds before the bell rang. Mrs. Glatzer raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as they dropped into their seats and shoved their coffees under their desks. Sheva barely had time to take off her coat when Mrs. Glatzer started class.
A note slipped onto her desk the moment Mrs. Glatzer’s back was turned. Sheva glared at Hadassah and unfolded the torn scrap of looseleaf paper.
You have to do it! Can you imagine running a party planning business in high school? You’d be rich! Imagine how many coffees that would be!
Sheva stifled a laugh. Hadassah was way too coffee-obsessed. But her friend had a point. Last year, for her brother’s Aufruf, her mother had thought about booking a party planner. The prices were high, though, and in the end, Sheva had arranged everything. That was when her neighbors began asking her to help with their simchos.
Maybe she should think about this.
***
“Then it’s ten tables by the women, ten tables by the men, and the sweet table?” Sheva clarified with Mrs. Auerbach.
She sat at the kitchen table, jotting down notes in her notebook while sipping ice coffee from her teal Stanley cup. After consulting with her mother to figure out how much to charge, Sheva had agreed to plan the bar mitzvah. It would be a test, Ma said, to see if she could do it. If Sheva could plan the bar mitzvah and keep her grades up, she could continue her party planning business.
Sheva was fine with that. She wasn’t the worst student, but school definitely wasn’t something she loved. Having this as a side hustle was perfect.
***
Sheva hovered in the back during the bar mitzvah, anxious that everything should go smoothly. This was her first event. If it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t do it again.
A flash of pink caught her eye as a waiter brought out more napkins to place at the drinks table. Sheva crossed the room and quickly took away the pink napkins, replacing them with the elegantly monogrammed green ones.
First crisis averted.
The bar mitzvah went smoothly, with only minor hiccups. Sheva smiled as Mrs. Auerbach introduced her as the party planner.
“You’ve done a wonderful job,” Mrs. Goldman said. “I’d like to hire you for my own events.”
“Oh.” Sheva didn’t know what to say to the regal woman. “Thanks?”
“I’ve already asked Leah here for your number.” Mrs. Goldman nodded at Mrs. Auerbach. “I’ll be in touch.”
As the two women walked away, a smile spread across Sheva’s face. Her party-planning business was a success!
***
That first event turned into a second, and a third, and a fourth, until Sheva had filled her notebook with notes and had to buy another one. Ma put her foot down and insisted Sheva could only work on two events a week: one over Shabbos and one during the week. Secretly, Sheva was glad for the rule. It gave her a good excuse to turn down events.
One Wednesday, she hovered in the corner of the hall where Devorah Basch’s bas mitzvah was taking place. She’d worked with the bas mitzvah girl’s ideas and put together a candy-themed party, and she thought it was her best event yet. She wished she could take pictures.
Her school-mandated flip phone buzzed in her pocket, and she ducked out of the hall to answer. “Hello?”
“SHEVA!” Hadassah shouted, making Sheva hold the phone away from her ear. “YOU GOTTA GET OVER HERE!”
Sheva rubbed her ringing ear. “What’s going on?”
“Bracha’s mother ordered pizza, but the store mixed up her order and accidentally delivered four times the amount of food!” There was music in the background, making it difficult to hear Hadassah’s voice. “They said she should keep it, so there’s basically a grade-wide party here!”
“Oh…” Sheva glanced at the colorful party going on in the hall. “I can’t. I’m at an event, and I have to stay until the end.”
“Nooooo you have to get away!” Hadassah wailed.
“I can’t. Sorry, Hadassah.” Sheva closed her phone and shoved it in her pocket. Something in her chest ached, but she didn’t want to think about it.
Instead, she took a deep breath and returned to the bas mitzvah.
***
A week later, a similar scene played out. This time, their class had spontaneously decided to go ice skating. Sheva couldn’t go because she had an event that night.
The following Shabbos, Morah Felder scheduled an impromptu kumzitz Friday night. Sheva already had an event she needed to attend.
And those were just the big things. Sheva realized her friends had started leaving her out of invitations. She never had time to join them for coffee or shopping, and it was starting to affect their friendship.
One Sunday morning, she dialed Hadassah’s number. “Hey ‘Dassah! What are you up to today?”
There was a beat of silence before Hadassah replied, “We decided to go to the pop-up sample sale today.”
“Really?” Sheva’s heart sank. “You knew I wanted to go. Wait, who’s we?”
“Me and Rikki and some other girls in our class.” Hadassah paused. “We would’ve invited you, but…you always say no anyway. You’re always too busy.”
Sheva clenched her phone in her hand. “Yeah. I get it. Sorry.”
“I’ll keep you in mind next time, okay?” Hadassah’s voice sounded forcedly cheerful.
“Sure. Thanks.” Sheva slowly set her phone on her bed with a sigh.
Her party planning was taking over her life, and she didn’t like it.
***
“We have got to stop at Shaina’s Closet tonight,” Hadassah said a few days later on their way home from school. “The saleswoman told me they just got a new shipment of clothes last night. If we want first dibs, we have to get there ASAP.”
“It’s on our way, we can stop now,” Sheva replied, and Hadassah’s face lit up.
“Really?” Her friend grinned. “Yes! You’re never available these days.”
“Well, tonight I am, so we have got to go.” Sheva’s phone buzzed. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”
Hadassah nodded. “Sure. I’ll wait on the corner.”
“Hello, Sheva’s Party Planning,” she said into the phone.
“Hi! I got your number from Leah Auerbach, and I wanted to know if you could do a last-minute bar mitzvah?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Sure! Let me see if I’m available.” Sheva dug around in her bag and pulled out her calendar. “What date did you need?”
“Actually…I need you to come tonight,” the woman said. “I know it’s an unusual request, but my party planner is sick. All the arrangements are made, I just need someone to direct where things need to go. I’ll pay your regular fee, of course.”
“I…” Sheva glanced down the block, where Hadassah was waiting at the light. She remembered Hadassah’s surprise that she was available, and took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m busy tonight. I’m sorry.”
The woman sighed. “I knew it was a long shot anyway. Thanks!”
Tucking her phone in her pocket, Sheva hurried down the block to Hadassah. Time to spend some time with her friend.