An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (21 page)

Though Jalal usually sits at the head of the table, tonight he'll be demoted to a side seat, positioned in the middle, with Adam to his right and Mia Grace to his left. As hostess, I'll take my usual place at the end, closest to the door into the kitchen, but I suggest to Aza that she, being Jalal's sister, should seat herself and Paul directly across from Jalal. Jennie winks at me when she overhears this. She knows I'm trying to make sure Diane can't do what she usually does—either seat herself as close to Jalal as possible or directly in his line of vision.

Judith does her part by bringing a surprise dinner companion for Diane. I hope that will piss her off, but she seems to take to Barry right away and pulls him off to the side, apparently deep in conversation. I lose track of everyone when last minute dinner preparations keep me busy. Finally, I call for everyone to be seated. We're serving family style, so I hand the two bowls of mixed salad to Kristen and Jennie. I grab the bread basket, and follow them into the dining room. It's all I can do to keep from dropping the basket. Diane and her date are sitting where Aza and Paul should be.

As the salad makes the rounds, Jennie leans over and whispers, "She must have seen the high chair and booster and figured it out. She dragged Barry in here twenty minutes ago to stake out her seat."

I try to ignore Diane. I really do. I avoid looking at her by watching Adam and Mia Grace, but I can't block out her voice. She doesn't miss an opportunity to add her two cents to any comment Jalal makes, agreeing with him, praising him, teasing him like she knows him better than anyone. To Jalal's credit, he tries to engage everyone. Diane ignores the rest of us as much as she can. When Barry speaks the first time, she jumps as if she'd forgotten he's sitting next to her.

I can barely taste what little food I choke down and can only judge that my cooking is a success by the compliments. None from her, of course. When Paul and Hank draw Jalal into a discussion about some stock market deal, Diane sulks. I smile. Finally, a subject she apparently knows nothing about.

Surprisingly, the kids eat their dinner without complaint, though they finish eating long before the adults. Kristen, obviously bored with us anyway, offers to take them to the playroom. Adam balks until Jalal assures him she will bring him back for dessert. I follow her out because I need to start the coffeemaker. While I'm gone, the topic switches to movies, and I return to Diane running her mouth again.

Enough wine has flowed to free up tongues, and eventually everyone at the table joins the discussion, which wanders back and forth from movies to books, with a detour through television. Mostly I just listen until I realize it's time to clear the table. When I stand, so does Jennie. A second later, Judith rises too. She hires help for her dinner parties, so I expect her to head for the powder room, but she surprises me by carrying her share to the kitchen.

"What the hell?" Jennie says as soon as we're out of earshot. "Does that woman have to voice her opinion on everything?"

"This may be the last time we have to suffer," Judith says. "I don't think she'll be Aza's friend much longer. Have you seen the looks Paul gives her?"

"Oh my god," I say, "Paul's attracted to Diane?"

Judith laughs. "Not hardly. If looks could kill …"

"Oh. Well, that's encouraging."

I start scraping and stacking the plates while Jennie returns to the dining room for the last of the dishes. As I load the dishwasher, Judith fills the coffeepots, one for each end of the table. Jennie gets the lemon meringue out of the fridge and gathers enough knives and servers for the cake and pies. "Where's your stick lighter?" she asks me.

"You're not putting forty-four candles on the cake, are you? It'll take an hour to light them."

She smiles, rummages in the bag she left on the counter, and pulls out two giant candles shaped like the number four.

"How fun," Judith says.

As Jennie and Judith return to the dining room, I round up Kristen and the kids. Jennie sets the lighted cake in front of Jalal, and he takes the kids on his lap to help blow out the candles. "Wish," Adam says. Jalal closes his eyes for a moment and then he counts to three and he and Adam blow. Mia Grace leans forward with them but only giggles and claps. Aza, who has a beautiful voice, starts the singing. Jalal kisses each of the kids, and then smiles at me and kisses the air. I didn't want to look away from him, but I wish I could have seen Diane's face when he did that.

When everyone's had their fill of cake and pie, Jalal kisses the kids goodnight and Kristen and I take them upstairs. We're skipping baths tonight—icing in hair be damned—but we wash their faces and hands and brush their teeth. Kristen takes Adam to his room and helps him into his pajamas. While she reads him a story, I settle down with Mia Grace in the nursery. She pushes away from the breast after only a few minutes, preferring to just let me rock her to sleep. At least she allows me that much. I'm drowsy from the wine.

The next thing I know, Kristen taps me on the shoulder.

"They're both asleep," she says. "You'd better go back to the party."

I lay Mia Grace in her crib. "Thank you, Kristen. Remind me to give you a raise."

The party has moved to the living room. I hoped, by some miracle, Diane would leave while I was upstairs, but this is just an ordinary night. She's not only still here, she's plunked herself down on the arm of the couch next to Jalal's chair. The wine and the catnap have given me a monstrous headache. Some angel, Jennie I expect, made more coffee. I pour a cup and sit next to Judith on the couch opposite the one where Diane sits.

Paul mentions that he sat next to Brad Pitt on a recent flight from New Orleans. "He read almost the whole time."

"Count yourself lucky," Judith says, "You'd recognize her name if I could remember it, but I once had the
pleasure
of sitting across the aisle from some coked up diva who bitched and moaned non-stop about her boyfriend, manager, father, and who knows who else, all the way from New York to Paris."

"Well, as long as we're name-dropping," Diane says, "I have a tale. Do you know the name Edward Pennington?"

"You mean the British writer?" Barry asks.

"Yes." Diane drones her story about being on a cruise and spraining her wrist when Pennington accidentally tripped her. "He spent the last two days of the cruise by my side, plying me with wine and reading his poetry to me."

"You are making that up," Jalal says, laughing.

"I am not," she says, leaning over to place a hand on his thigh. "His poetry wasn't nearly as good as yours."

That's all I can take. "Get your fucking hand off my husband."

"Excuse me," she says, snatching her hand back and laughing.

Damn my mouth. I can't look at Jalal; he must be furious. I can't let myself look at anyone except Diane, who looks embarrassed—but not for herself. No one speaks. My outburst was so far out of proper hosting etiquette everyone else is probably in shock.

Hank breaks the silence. "You ever notice how the smallest dogs have the sharpest teeth?"

Everyone but Diane laughs, and that makes me smile.

Jalal closes the door on Judith and Hank, the last of our guests to leave. The party continued for another hour after Hank played off my outburst. Diane kept her hands to herself, but she didn't back an inch off her Jalal obsession. Since I sent Jennie home with assurance I would leave the party mess for Lorena to clean in the morning, I feel obligated to do just that. I leave Jalal to set the alarm and turn off the lights.

Kristen, who's talking on her phone when I enter the nursery, just signals OK and leaves. I check on Mia Grace and then Adam on the way to our room. A second after I step into my closet, Jalal appears in the doorway. "You couldn't possibly have already checked everything downstairs," I say.

"It can wait."

"For what?" I remove my shoes and start on my jewelry.

"Thank you for the dinner," he says. "It was delicious."

"You're welcome." I'd changed earrings several times getting ready and just dropped them back in the drawer, so I take a minute to neaten things. Jalal doesn't usually stand at my closet door like this. It's obvious he's working up to a discussion about Diane. I don't have to wait long.

"Are you going to tell me why you made that scene after dinner?" he says.

"I didn't make a scene."

"Oh. And how would you define a scene, wrestling to the ground and ripping out hair?"

"Diane's flirting went a little overboard tonight."

"Her what?"

I try to unzip my dress, but the pull tab lies in my unreachable zone, so I back up to him, and he does it for me. "She was hitting on you, Jalal."

"Not very effectively, since all I noticed was how sexy you look in this little black dress."

"You think it's a joke?"

"I think you are imagining things."

I step away and turn to face him. "I know what I saw. What
everyone
saw."

"My sweet love." He takes my hand and pulls me back to him. "Why are you so stressed? He unclips my hair and combs his fingers through it. "Remember when we first met, you worked at the bar, and I hated how those men looked at you? What did you tell me?"

"I don't remember."

"You said, 'I'm not looking back.' I have no control over how Diane looks at me, but … I am not looking back. I am looking at you, Mrs. Vaziri."

"Absolutely not," I say, pushing him away. "Sex is not the answer to every problem, Jalal."

"I thought we solved the 'problem.'"

"Really."

He shrugs. "I forgive you."

"You
what
?"

He takes a step back, looking so much like Adam when he's caught doing something wrong that I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from smiling.

"I'm not convinced you were as oblivious as you claim."

"Did I flirt back?"

"No."

"Then, whether or not I noticed, I did no wrong. And I forgive your minor disruption of my birthday party."

"
Diane
disrupted your party."

He smiles. "I believe the order 'get your fucking hand off my husband' came from your mouth.

"She had her hand in your crotch."

His eyes widen and he attempts to disguise an aborted laugh as throat clearing.

"You still think this is a joke."

He shakes his head, but he's smiling. "She touched my knee, Renee. You are off by quite a few inches."

"Stop being so damned literal."

He steps forward and tilts my chin up so I'll look in his eyes. "I love you. Only you. Now and forever." He slides the straps off my shoulders and kisses me as my dress slips to the floor. "I think we need to spend more time alone."

"Do you?"

"Want to feel my knee and see how much?"

"Ha ha."

"So, are we good now?"

I clasp my hands behind his neck and he lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. "What do you think?"

Sweet little voices over the monitor wake me. I groan.

Jalal mumbles into his pillow, "If we had a nanny we could sleep in."

"If you didn't keep me awake so late, we wouldn't need to sleep in."

"Did you complain last night? I think not."

We lay there, floating in limbo for another minute. Then the monitor transmits Adam saying, "Jump, Mee-Grays." We fly out of bed and burst into the nursery in time to see Adam, to Mia Grace's delight and our relief, jump off the loveseat. "Watch," he says and does it again.

We clap. "What a way to wake up," Jalal says. "Who gets to shower first?"

"You go." I point to Mia Grace who has her arm stretched out, her hand opening and closing—her
gimme
sign. "She wants to nurse."

"Shower me too," Adam says. Jalal scoops him up saying, "Airplane." Adam stretches out his arms and Jalal flies him out of the room.

Mia Grace and I settle in the rocker. Dawn has only begun to filter through the curtains. The muted light reminds me of foggy mornings at Bahía, when life seems wrapped in a secret, like those mornings after I first met Jalal and waited by the beach to see him run out of the fog, my heart leaping at the sight. He didn't notice me at first. All that mattered was that I saw him. And then he did see me, and all that mattered was that I allowed myself to dream he could love me.

Mia Grace sits up, done with me for now. "Me," she says and points to the door Jalal and Adam left through. She wants. Her brother? Her father? Her family all together? Comfort and love and security. "Me too, sweet baby."

The morning surprises continue in the kitchen. Kristen's already awake and Jalal's drinking coffee. "No tea?"

"Coffee was quicker."

"I thought liquor was quicker," Kristen says. Instantly, she realizes what she said—or rather, who she said it to and her face colors to match her hot pink hoodie. Jalal's face matches hers. I burst out laughing.

"Why don't I go feed the kids in the playroom?" she says.

What a morning we're having.

I carry Mia Grace and Kristen carries their toast and oatmeal. When I return, Jalal is at the counter cutting a slice of pie. "What kind of breakfast is that? You were just stalling until Adam left the table, weren't you?"

"I deserve this."

I pour a cup of coffee and sit down. "Now I know why you made this. It's a habit, Jennie's pie with coffee."

He sits down, plate in hand. "Are you complaining? Because, if you are, I can dump the coffee and make tea." He forks a bite of pie, and I grab his hand and direct it to my mouth. "How rude," he says.

I stick out my pie covered tongue to show him what rude is.

"Charming," he says.

I take sips of coffee while he eats half his pie. "Since Kristen has the kids occupied, I guess I should get a shower now."

"Wait," he says. "I want to talk to you."

Crap. I knew he'd bring up me ruining his party again.

"I would like to take you somewhere," he says. "In a couple of months, I mean. Mia Grace will be weaned by then; we could leave her with Aza." He takes my hand. "I never took you to Paris."

"A couple of months will be right before Christmas."