Free The Day the Rabbi Resigned by Harry Kemelman

Cracker at the time. He says she was good, and the company knew it. They kept advancing her, and she was getting a big salary. So now she had a real career, and there was no way she was going to give that up and stay home and have babies.”
    â€œSo they never had children?”
    â€œThat’s right. I guess by the time they decided they wanted them, it was too late.”
    â€œI see,” said the rabbi, and then to bring the visit to an end so that he could get back to the book he had been reading, he said, “I’m glad to hear that Morris Fisher is all right now. When next you see him, give him my regards.”
    â€œWell, he’s not all right,” said Clayman. “He’s like what you might call stable. They got his blood pressure down, and they gave him some pills which they hope will keep it down, but I guess in these cases you never can tell.”
    â€œWell, we can only hope for the best,” said the rabbi as he rose from his chair.
    But Clayman gave no indication of leaving. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. “Well, I had like an idea, which is why I came to see you.”
    â€œYes?” The rabbi sat down.
    â€œSee, the old geezer has no living relatives, not only no children, but no relatives, not on his side and not on his wife’s side, although he thinks there’s maybe a second or third cousin of his wife living in Australia. Now I figure he’s got a couple of hundred thou in his stock portfolio, and his house on the Point must be worth three hundred thou in today’s market. And I know for a fact that it’s free and clear—no mortgage. All right, so that’s half a mil.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œWell, see, he was awfully set up by your coming to see him at the hospital, felt you were very intelligent and—”
    â€œI barely spoke to him. He did all the talking.”
    â€œYeah, I know he likes to talk. So maybe he thought you were an intelligent listener. What I had in mind was that where he has no one to leave his money to, and it seems to bother him a lot, if you were to go over to his place, spend an evening with him, maybe play a game or two of chess with him—You play chess, don’t you?”
    â€œYes, I play chess.”
    â€œWell then, you could go over and play chess with him a couple of nights a week. Then when he starts harping on not having any relatives and no one to leave his money to—and he’s sure to because he keeps harping on it—you could suggest he leave it to the temple.”
    â€œOh, I couldn’t do that.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI couldn’t ingratiate myself in order to get his money. From then on, anytime I went to see someone in the hospital, it would be assumed that I was trying to insinuate myself in his good graces in order to elicit a contribution for the temple.”
    They heard a key grating in the lock, and Miriam came in from visiting a neighbor next door. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were here, Mr. Clayman. Will you have a cup of tea? I baked some cookies this afternoon. I took some over to Mrs. Estwick, and she loved them. They’re lemon cookies, but I stirred in a bunch of nuts that I chopped up—” She stared as both men began to laugh.

12
    On their honeymoon, Victor had not only been kind and considerate, but also most attentive. They knew no one and so they had only each other. But when they were ensconced in their new home, and Victor was back at school, the situation changed. For one thing, for the greater part of the day he was surrounded by people he knew and who had similar interests. When he came home, usually around four in the afternoon, even on those days when he had only morning classes, he had little to say to her, or for that matter, she to him.
    He would ask, “Did you have a good day?” not out of interest, nor even to make conversation, but rather as a courtesy, like saying, Good