An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (27 page)

Jalal made love to me in complete silence, as though his mind was on something else. After where my thoughts have been lately, his obvious distraction was no comfort. Now, as we lay silently in the dark, I wonder what if Nathan hadn't found Brandon? Maybe Jalal wouldn't have insisted I come home. I keep pushing those thoughts away, but they push back. Just as I finally sink down toward sleep, Jalal's hand on my shoulder draws me back to the surface.

"Why did you almost faint?" he asks.

I roll over toward him. "What are you talking about?"

"When you came home this morning. You walked in the door and almost passed out."

"I didn't sleep well last night … and my blood sugar—"

"You said it had nothing to do with your blood sugar."

I try to hide any expression because tonight the moon is full and he's in silhouette, which means my face is clearly visible in the light from the windows. "I saw the file and thought you were going to give me more bad news." That's not the whole truth, but it's not a lie. He rolls to his back and lies still. After a moment, I close my eyes daring to believe he's going to sleep.

"Tell me the truth, Renee."

"It doesn't matter—"

"It does." He turns back toward me and tilts my face fully into the light. "What were you expecting me to say?"

Closing my eyes is the only way I can hide from him. Maybe if he can't look into my eyes, he won't know what I'm thinking. "I thought you were going to tell me you want a divorce."

A half laugh escapes him before he chokes it off. "My god." He leaps from the bed. "I thought you were joking."

I open my eyes. Against the light from the windows, he's only a black shape looming over me. I sit up and hug my knees. "I'm sorry."

"How could you think that?"

"Well … you didn't tell me about not writing or the lecture or the job and—"

"And because of that you thought I wanted a divorce? Damn. If I had known keeping those things to myself would make you leap to—"

"Are you sorry you married me?"

For a moment, he makes no move or sound, and then he sinks to the edge of the bed, twisting to face me. The tears welled in his eyes glisten in the moonlight. "Marrying you is the only decision I have not once regretted."

Why can't I believe that? I want to. I need to. But. "Sometimes … I feel like you need someone better."

"Better?"

"Different. Someone who fits in your life better. I've tried to change, but—"

"Oh, sweet love." He leans toward me and cups his hand around the back of my head, pressing my forehead to his. "If I make you feel that way, I am the one who needs to change. Forgive me. Please."

As if Bahía followed me home yesterday, we wake to fog. It makes our kitchen feel cozier, like our table nestles inside a cocoon. Even the kids sense the difference and whisper. The four of us dream together this morning.

Jalal gets up to refill his cup and then stops behind my chair and rubs my shoulder as he gazes out the windows. "We should go to the aquarium," he says.

"Where's that?"

He pulls on my braid to tilt my head back. "You have never been to the Monterey Bay Aquarium?"

I shake my head. He grins and kisses my nose. "Then off we go."

After breakfast, he takes the kids upstairs to dress them while I straighten up the kitchen. When I go up to shower, I find the kids playing on the floor, one packed bag on our bed, and Jalal simultaneously talking on the phone and packing another. I question him with a look, but he only mouths the word
shower
and points. It appears he's turned this into an overnight trip.

When I come out to the vanity area, Kristen greets me. Her face is bare of makeup and her hair is still wet. I'd bet she climbed out of bed fifteen minutes ago. "Uncle J says you have ten minutes to get packed."

"Aren't you going to be late for school?"

"I'm going with you guys."

"Oh. That's nice. Have you been before?"

"Yes, but Mom doesn't know, so my official answer is no. Okay?"

"Does she know you're going today?"

"She's going too. And Paul. And grandma and grandpa are meeting us there." I pause with my mouth open and the comb halfway through my hair. She nods. "He kind of takes an idea and runs with it, doesn't he?"

"Indeed."

Jalal waves his credit card like a magic wand and makes wishes come true. He flew his parents down, so they could share the kids' first aquarium experience. It was so cool to hear Nasrin and Mia Grace squeal together with delight at the sea otters and to watch Adam and Korush penguin walk side-by-side. I have to admit spending money like that is a blast.

With the kids at the hotel, in the care of his parents and Kristen, Jalal and I go out for the evening with Aza and Paul. After laughs and drinks and a wonderful dinner on the bay, they go up to their room and we go for a moonlit walk on the hotel's beach. Even though we're not dressed for it and I'm freezing, I love it because this feels like the old days. I guess because I married a poet, my life will never lack in romance.

Jalal stops and pulls me close. "Cold?"

"No."

"Liar." He wraps his arms around me. "I want to say something before we go inside." He kisses me. Then he kisses me again, longer, deeper. Before I can figure out if the kisses are his way of saying that something, he pulls back to look in my eyes. "Divorce cannot be in our vocabulary. If we have problems, we have to work them out."

"Okay."

"All right." He kisses me again. "Now, you need to get into a hot tub."

"Just me?"

He takes my hand and pulls me toward the hotel.

"It's a big tub, Mr. Vaziri."

The look he gives me is innocent, but his eyes gleam in the moonlight.

"Indeed," he says.

I
ndecision has rubbed my nerves raw. Though each glance adds another twist of guilt, I look at Brandon's picture a hundred times in the next two days. Jalal sees me with the file, but he doesn't question me. I know he's right; Brandon's not to blame for my father treating me like crap. I'm glad he was there for Brandon. Becky sure wasn't. I guess it doesn't matter that she kept his accident secret from me. I was still in high school. What could I have done to help him? But what about after I moved to Sacramento? What if I'd known he lived there too?

How can I look at Mia Grace and hope she would never turn her back on her brother, when I'm sitting here, only 266 miles away, determined not to contact mine? But then Brandon doesn't know that. Does he know his mother is dead? Does he know Nicole is? How would he feel knowing Amber's new parents want nothing to do with us? Ha. He's probably just like his father, with no sentimentality or sense of family obligation to me. I could be agonizing over nothing. If I did call him, he might tell me to go to hell.

"Who's that?" Kristen asks, coming up behind me.

I nearly jump out of my chair.

"Whoa," she says. "Sorry. I thought you heard me come in."

I shove the photo back in the folder. "Where are the kids?"

"Uncle J's out there with them. I need a drink. Can I have one of your Cokes?"

"Sure. Bring me one."

She brings two cans to the table and sits down. "Was that a picture of Brandon?" I nod, and she says, "He's hot. When do we get to meet him?"

"You don't. I'm not going to see him."

Her face transforms with disbelief. "Why? He's your only brother."

"We're not like you and Ryan. Brandon and I haven't seen each other in eleven years. He was only ten. He probably doesn't remember me anyway."

"Are you serious? I still remember my friends in kindergarten. Of course he remembers you."

"It's complicated, Kristen."

"You mean because he lives with your dad?"

"Yes."

"So just see him, not your dad. Ask Brandon to come here. Buy him the ticket, and he can fly here in an hour."

"I don't think so. It's—" The doorbell rings and I gasp.

Kristen laughs. "Why are you so jumpy? Uncle J sees that, he'll cut off your caffeine."

"Shhh." I get up to answer the door.

It's Judith and Hank. "Aren't we being terrible," she says, "just dropping by like this?"

"No, it's nice to see you. Jalal's out back." They follow me to the kitchen like family. Kristen's gone back outside with the kids. "I'll tell Jalal you're here."

"No, no," Hank says. "It's a beautiful afternoon. Let's go see those amazing kids of yours." He takes Judith by the arm and leads the way out through the playroom. They say hello to the kids and then Hank stands close to Jalal, with his back to me. Obviously, he has something to say he doesn't want me to hear. Judith moves in the opposite direction to one of the patio tables. I take Mia Grace from Kristen and join Judith.

"What's new in Chez Vaziri?" she asks.

"Nothing much." I hope she doesn't bring up Brandon because I don't want to have that discussion again today. "What have you and Hank been up to?"

Judith ignores me, and calls to Kristen, "Has your mom set a date for the wedding?"

"Not that I've heard."

"Where is she today, off somewhere with her friend?"

"No. Mom's out with Paul. Diane's still out of town."

"Is that so?" Judith, wearing her gossip face, turns back to me and nearly whispers, "She's not out of town."

"Where is she? And how do you know?"

"I have ears and eyes all over town. One of the benefits of being a long-time resident."

"And?"

Judith leans closer. "Dear Diane's hiding out at home, recovering from the standard nip and tuck."

"A face lift?"

Judith sits back and crosses her legs, her innocent smile a sham. "You didn't hear that from me. Of course, I can't condemn her. I've spent my time under the knife. I never tried to hide it, though." She studies her manicure. "You know Jalal's views on cosmetic surgery, of course."

I nod, laughing. Jalal believes women, and men, should age naturally and he's not shy about voicing that opinion. If Diane only knew how easily Jalal spots such vanity. God. All the needless stress I add to my life. Jalal's secret job interview and Diane's secret surgery were just fuel for my whacked out imagination.

I lie in the dark listening. There's no sound coming from the monitor, but something woke me. It's too quiet.
Jalal's stopped breathing
. I reach to shake him, but he's not beside me. Geez, Renee, panic much? He's just in the bathroom. I close my eyes, expecting him to come back to bed any moment. Five minutes later, I get out of bed and check for a light in the bathroom. It's dark. Oh. Of course. He's downstairs reading. I turn on the light. The book he's been carrying around is on his nightstand. Suspicion coils in my gut.

I open our door and step into the hall. Light from the kitchen and Jalal's voice rise up the back stairwell, but I can't make out his words until I creep down to the landing.

"Next week." Pause. "All right. And again, I am sorry I woke you. I have to be careful when she is around." Pause. "Oh, absolutely. The last thing I want is for her to overhear." He laughs. Pause. "You too. Sleep well."

As fast as tiptoeing allows, I make it back to our room and then ruin it by losing my balance and falling against the wall when I reach to switch off the light. Jalal's already coming up the stairs. I have to assume he heard the bump, so I detour to the bathroom, close the door and lean against it, trying to catch my breath. Slow down. I heard only the last couple of minutes from a whole conversation. Can I trust—this time—that what I heard is what he really said? And maybe he wasn't even talking about me. He could have meant Aza or Kristen. Even if he was talking about me, I don't know who he was talking to. It could have been anyone. Anyone. I can't let my imagination go crazy again.

To complete my cover story, I flush the toilet and return to the bedroom.

Jalal is sitting up in bed. "Are you all right?"

"Sure. I just had to pee. What are you doing up?"

He starts to lift a hand toward his hair, but then drops it. "I forgot to ask Hank about something when he was here today."

"A problem?"

"No, just a business thing."