Are You Alone on Purpose? by Nancy Werlin

toward Adam again, speaking with difficulty. “That day in my office—you were right. I see that now. Or maybe I should say it’s been made clear to me . . . . Harry’s accident, you know. I’ve done a lot of thinking. Praying. Trying to understand what happened. What’s right. What’s just.” He looked directly at Betsy again, spread his hands, shrugged a little. “What God wants.”
    What God wants? thought Alison.
    â€œExcuse me, Rabbi,” said Mrs. Shandling. “Am I to understand that you think God wants you to tutor Adam?”
    â€œWell, that’s a dramatic way of putting it. But, in essence, yes.” Rabbi Roth met Alison’s mother’s eyes directly. “I know you and your husband are not deeply religious people, Mrs. Shandling. But I believe that things happen for a reason. I might not know the reason, but I believe there is one.” Rabbi Roth paused. He drank the end of his coffee and looked over at Adam again.
    Rabbi Roth thinks God caused Harry’s accident, Alison thought. On purpose. Because he didn’t let Adam into Hebrew school?
    The rabbi was continuing, leaning forward, speaking intently. “That day in my office, well, you said some very harsh things to me. About my responsibilities as a rabbi.”
    And as a father, Alison thought.
    Mrs. Shandling cut in. “I was very angry that day, Rabbi. I want to apologize—”
    â€œNo, I’m the one who should apologize. You were right, Mrs. Shandling.”
    Alison saw Rabbi Roth move uneasily in his chair. She wished she could see his expression better.
    â€œHarry’s accident was a sign from God,” said Harry’s father. “A sign that I was wrong about Adam, and you were right.”
    Her mother was staring at him. “You can’t possibly believe—”
    â€œHow can I not believe it? It’s very clear. Do you know, at first I was just going to call you and apologize. But then I somehow knew it would be insufficient.”
    Alison’s mother had leaned her head in her hands and was rubbing her forehead, slowly, with her fingers. Finally she looked up. “I don’t understand. How can you worship God if you think He would hurt Harry just to teach you a lesson?”
    Rabbi Roth sighed. “I understand it looks that way to you, Mrs. Shandling. But I have faith that God knows what He’s doing.”
    Alison’s mind spun so fast that, for a moment, she couldn’t understand a single thought in it.
    â€œI don’t know what to tell you, Rabbi,” Alison’s mother said. “Honestly, I don’t.”
    â€œTell me that I can tutor Adam. Twice a week, maybe, one-hour sessions? We could start by learning some prayers. Does Adam like to sing? Adam?” Adam didn’t look up, but his hands on the bread stilled, and Alison could tell by the stiffening of his shoulders that he knew he was being addressed. “Can you sing, Adam?”
    Adam didn’t answer. After a moment, he began moving the pieces of bread around on his plate again.
    â€œHe can hum,” said Mrs. Shandling. “He likes music. He does that rhythmic rocking, you know. To music.”
    â€œRock,” said Adam suddenly, softly. “Rolling Stones.” He didn’t look up from his plate.
    â€œHe likes the Stones,” Mrs. Shandling agreed. “And the old Motown music, you know.” She smiled a little. “Probably not what you had in mind?”
    â€œWell,” the rabbi said, “I could try. And Adam likes being in synagogue. I’ve noticed that.”
    â€œAh.” After another moment, Alison’s mother sighed, exhaling. “I just don’t know, Rabbi. You’re offering a lot more than I had in mind, to be honest. In a class, well, Adam could just sit there. He might or might not take something in. I was willing to risk it.”
    â€œWere you willing to risk it with regular