Dear God, hello it's me, Rosa. I know I have not been talking to you for a couple of nights and I'm sorry. I will try to do better. Now God, I thank you very, very, very, very, much for my family especially my daddy, but God, can you help my daddy with his brain because he keeps forgetting to do important things. And God, can you please help him not get too old too fast. I want him to get a little less old and God can you help Julia not cry about silly things and help Timmy build his rocket and God please help me to not be so bratty. I love you and I love my daddy, and I love my mummy and amen.

George couldn’t find his prayer book. “I know I had it yesterday,” he said to Julia and Sybil as they stood on the deck watching some children flying a kite.

“You should come and watch these humans, George. I’m sure you’ll find the prayer book. It’s probably fallen under the bed.”

“Why would that happen?”

“George, you keep forgetting that’s where everything disappears to when you can’t find it.” That made absolutely no sense to him, but he had learnt over the years that when Sybil says stuff that makes no sense, he should not challenge it.

Timmy came out of his room upon hearing his mother talk about kites. “I need to get one of those,” he told his father.

“Well,” replied George, “your birthday is coming up in a few weeks, maybe I will get you one. By the way, have you seen my prayer book? I need for tonight’s services.”

“Maybe God is sending you message,” Timmy hated the fact that his father was a Rabbi, not just for the Conservative congregation, but also for the splattering a Reform Jews in the neighbourhood.

“What message is that?” George was about to go into his bedroom and look under the bed, but stopped when Timmy made that announcement.

“Well, Dad, Reform Jews are like the Catholics who don’t want to disturb their weekend, so they go to church on Saturdays and not Sundays. It’s the same with Reform Jews. They like Friday night services.”

“Well,” replied George believing that as the only Rabbi, be it part time, in North Topsail Beach, he should be accommodating. “I understand what you mean, but that’s life,” and with that, he walked into his and Sybil’s bedroom only to walk out a few minutes later holding his prayer book. “Here it is,” he said proudly.

“And where was it, George?” asked Sybil turning around to face her husband.

“Under the bed,” he replied meekly. Sybil was proud of herself. “Why was it under the bed?” he asked. Sybil didn’t answer and instead turned back to watch the kites with Julia.

“Maybe you put it under the bed George,” she remarked digging Julia in the ribs with her wing.

“Are grandma and grandpa Roth really moving down here?” she asked her mother.

“What!” said George, “I thought they had given up on that idea. Especially after you told them they wouldn’t be welcome.”

“No, I did not George.”

“Well not in exactly those words, but that’s what I got from your diatribe.” Julia and Timmy giggled.

Sybil had panicked when her parents made mention of moving down to Top Sail especially after Rosa had in a matter of hours wrapped her father around her wing. Having George take the side of their daughter was enough, but to add her father to that list would be one too many.

“Yes, Mummy. If I were either Grandpa or Grandma Roth and I heard what you said, I would believe that as well.” Sybil hadn’t turned around to face her son or husband. She knew what she had said to her parents and that was the exact message she had conveyed. However, once they had flown back to Northern New Jersey she had a few days later received a call from one of her brothers, Ethan, telling her that their parents had put their lavish three stored nest up for sale.

“It sounds like it doesn’t it if they’ve put their nest up for sale?”

“Is he really going to trust your two brothers to run the business while he’s not around? I thought he had problems with them eating the profits.”

“That’s his problem,” replied Sybil purposely not turning around because she would rather believe she wasn’t having that conversation. She was just glad that the perpetrator of this whole situation their youngest daughter Rosa was in bed.

George shook his head and went over to give his wife a peck on her cheek before he made his way over to the synagogue. He needed to get there before Benne opened the doors to the few Reform Jews on the island. That’s because he loved the way they always showed up wearing expensive clothes as if trying to beat their neighbours. “Typical Reform Jews!” he would say out loudly if George hadn’t got there before him. Luckily, he did show up before Benne and stood there at the Ark waiting for the few Reform Jews to amble in and take their places. They never wore prayer shawls or Kippahs. He began the service in English because none of them spoke Hebrew. Benne stood at the back of the congregation rolling his eyes before leaving to go home.

George noticed that there were a few extra congregants and after services he went over to them, believing they were new to the area. No they told him, “we are down here for a couple of weeks. We got an air bnb just down from here.”

“Where are you from?” he asked smiling his Shabbat Rabbi smile.

“Nu Joisey,” they said in unison.

George shivered. “Oh really, so are we. In fact, my wife’s parents still live up there. Maybe you know them, Esther and Craig Roth.”

“Really!” the father shouted, “we are their neighbours except,” and he lowered his sight, “except they put their nest up for sale.”

“So, they are really moving down here?” asked George.

“Oh no, not here! I believe they’re going down further south to Florida.”

“Palm Beach?” asked George excitedly.

“Oh no! Too many Jews there they told us. They want to try Clearwater, because there are less Jews there.”

“This is so exciting!” George rubbed his wings with glee.

“Did you want them to move here?” he asked.

“I think my youngest daughter wanted them to but….” and then he bit his tongue. He could imagine them going back and breaking the news to his in laws. Sybil would never forgive him. “Well anyway, will I see you next Friday night?”

“No, I’m sorry,” they replied, “we are going to be flying to Rehoboth Beach tomorrow.”

“Why there?” George asked.

“We’ve never been to Delaware and because I have an extra week off from work we thought we’d go there for a few days.”

George wished them well, “there’s nothing there except some marshland,” he told them and wished them Shabbat Shalom and closed up the synagogue and flew home.

“You’ll never believe this,” George rushed on to the deck, “you’ll never believe this.”

“Nor will you,” interrupted Sybil, “my parents are moving to Clearwater, but they are coming here first for a few weeks on their way down there.”

“Is Rosa asleep?” George asked meekly.