An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (28 page)

I nod and get into bed. See? It was an innocent call to Hank. Jalal turns off the light and before doubt can whisper in my ear, his hand caresses my breast and he kisses the back of my neck. And that's that.

I seem to be stuck in permanent PMS. I've been snapping at everyone this week, even Adam a couple of times. Everything should be great between me and Jalal because I try to ignore any wild suspicions that enter my head. But we're not in sync. It's like something has forced an invisible distance between us. Well … maybe that's not a total mystery. I know it's crazy and unfair, but I resent him for finding Brandon. Jalal hasn't mentioned that I should call or see Brandon since that first afternoon, yet every time he looks at me, I feel judged. It's like we're silently arguing all the time—except the times we argue for real.

For all Jalal doesn't say about Brandon, he makes up for about my happiness—or rather the lack of it. He asks, "Why are you not happy, Renee?" I lie and tell him I
am
happy. He asks again, and I tell him I don't know why. He asks again, and I scream at him to leave me the hell alone. He's worried about me, I know that, but I can't stop being a bitch. Today, even though I knew he wanted us to do something with the kids after their naps, I almost packed them in the car and drove to Bahía when he left for the market after breakfast. Now that's just mean, but I had to fight with myself to keep from going.

Anyway, I stayed in Coelho and we ended up having a good time at Tours for Tots, which took place at a farm today. For some reason, Mia Grace thought the chickens were hysterical. And because her sweet baby laughter is impossible to resist, she made everyone else laugh too. The guide thanked her for making it the jolliest tour ever.

I'm cooking dinner, now, and the three of them are in the playroom. After a while, I hear Adam's favorite movie start and look up. Mia Grace is in her corral, and Jalal is heading toward me. I expect him to try to take over at the stove, but he only straddles a stool across the island from me. "Are you going to Bahía tomorrow?" he asks.

"Do you care?" His only response is a look that means I've offended him, either by hurting his feelings or being unbelievably stupid. Whatever. "You're in your office during most of the time I'm gone anyway."

"I work two or three hours a day, and never every day. I am available whenever you need me."

"I know you have to work, Jalal. That's not the problem. I just … I'm bored here."

"I thought you loved being with the kids."

I growl in frustration and mime strangling him. "This has nothing to do with the kids. I love the kids. I'm thrilled that I can be a stay-at-home mom. But once in a while, when I need a break, there's nothing for me to do here."

"You could lunch and shop with friends, or—"

"I have no friends here, Jalal."

"I think Judith would be offended to hear you say that. And you know a lot of—"

"I'll give you Judith, but none of those other women are my friends. They're your friends. I have nothing in common with them except you. In fact, I only know Judith because of you."

"If you would make an effort here …"

"Make an effort?" He glances back toward the kids and motions for me to keep my voice down. I smack his hand out of the way and hiss, "I changed my whole damned life."

His eyes flash. "Your life is not the only one that changed, Renee."

"Really. What did you give up, Jalal? You just moved back to your home and your friends. You slipped back into your old life like a favorite pair of jeans. It's been rough on you, hasn't it?"

For a moment, jaw working, he stares at me. When he responds, he enunciates each word. "I realize how hard it is for you not to be able to see Jennie whenever you want, but you agreed to move here."

"What choice did I have?"

"You could have told me how you felt. You never had a problem with that before."

"I didn't know, okay? I thought living here would be wonderful."

"You have never stopped thinking of Bahía as home, so how—"

"I never said—"

"Yes. You did. That day in September, at lunch, when you said you were going to Bahía while I was at the conference. I told you I would be leaving there early and you told me to join you 'at our house.' Bahía is home to you, not Coelho."

"You're bringing up something I said two
months
ago? Why do you always have to make a big deal about nothing? Both houses are
our
houses."

For a moment, he stares at his hands splayed on the granite countertop, and then he stands and walks around to my side of the island. Assuming he's finally decided to take over cooking, I step out of his way, but he pulls me back and into his arms. "Forgive me. Arguing was not my intention. I asked about your plans tomorrow because if you go to Bahía, I want to go with you."

This is how he manipulates me. The force of that thought jerks me out of his embrace and I turn back to the stove. "Well, I'm not going there tomorrow."

"Oh." He stands silent for a moment and then says, "All right, then."

I keep my eyes on the stovetop, stirring the cheese sauce far longer than I need to, until he gives up and rejoins the kids.

I'm in a black mood before I even get out of bed. It starts when I wake from a bad dream about Diane that leads to thinking about how Jalal explained his trip to San Luis Obispo, but what about Eduardo saying he saw him in Bahía when I thought he was downtown here? How do I ever really know where Jalal is when he's not home? And what about all the phone calls he says are business with Hank? If they have so many business dealings, why don't they ever talk about them when I'm around?

I feel the house closing in on me again. I want to go to Bahía, but Mia Grace has a tummy problem. At Jalal's suggestion, I take a walk while the kids are napping, but it's only making me miss the ocean more. This neighborhood is a boring place to walk. You can't even see much of the houses because they're all built on wooded lots at the end of long driveways, and during the last thirty minutes I've seen only one other person on foot, a man running with his dog. At least Meredith added some curb appeal with her unique dragon-shaped gate. Before I pass back through it, I collect the mail from our box. It's easy to sort, mostly for Jalal, but there's one for me today. Twenty seconds after I open it, I'm charging for the front door.

"What the hell is this?"

Jalal glances at the paper I slammed down on his desk. "That would be a bank statement?"

I bite down hard and narrow my eyes to slits. His smile drops dead.

"All right," he says. "Not exactly the response I expected."

"Really."

He sighs. "I know, since you quit working, you feel like you have no money of your own, so I made a deposit to your old account."

"Are you buying me off? Throwing a little money at me, so I'll bow down to the Great and Powerful Jalal?"

"Stop being so dramatic."

"Stop being such an asshole. Ten thousand dollars is a ridiculous amount to have in a checking account."

His jaw clenches for a moment before he speaks. "Then transfer it to savings. Or invest it. Or bury it in the damned rose garden."

"You know only two solutions for problems—money or sex, and right now I'm sick of both." I crumple the statement and throw it in the wastebasket, as if I can rid myself of the money by discarding the evidence of it. "I don't want your money."

He sighs with more force this time. "What
do
you want, Renee? Really. What is it? Can I do
anything
that will make you happy?"

"Yes. Stop shutting me out."

He stares at me until I look away. Then he stands and pushes past me but pauses before he steps into the hall. "Rethink that one, Renee. Who shuts who out?" In a gesture that feels all too final, he slams the front door when he leaves.

I wait, hoping he'll come back in, but seconds later his car roars down the drive. My knees give out and I drop into the chair still warm from his body. It's not that we haven't argued a thousand times; it's that lately there's a hint of danger to it, as if both of us are close to losing control. As if one of us might go too far and take a finely-honed blade to the throat of our marriage.

Every day I fight to keep my craziness from spilling over and ruining everything. I admit now, it wasn't finding Brandon that freaked me out, it was finding out where he's living. Until then, I had boxed up all my anger toward my father. That's busted wide open again, and I'm not in a very good place. But I'm trying to get there.

Jalal's had a good week. He got a call from Hank—I saw the caller ID—and though he was vague when I asked him about the call, he's been cheery ever since. And he got the job he wanted. He won't start teaching until the next summer term, which gives him plenty of time to both prepare and stress. The funny thing is, now that he knows he's definitely going to be teaching, he's spent this week writing poetry like mad. I guess I'll never understand how a creative brain works.

Nasrin is not happy with us. Jalal told her we're not coming to Seattle for Thanksgiving. That was totally his decision. I'm not about to come between him and his mother. Aza decided to stay here too, so we're going to have a feast at our house. Jalal gave me the menu this morning, and I'm working on the grocery list. He remains stubborn about texting and doesn't want to get distracted by leaving his office, but he's called me three times with additions, so when my phone rings again I answer automatically. "Yes?"

"Is this Renee?"

"Uh … yes. Who's this?"

"Brandon."

I can't even breathe, let alone speak.

"Hello? Renee?"

"Hello," I say, but it comes out a whisper. I clear my throat. "How did you get my number?"

He laughs. "Still cutting straight to the point, I see."

"I'm sorry. You just surprised me. It's nice to hear your voice." I'm not just being polite. "But I do want to know how you got this number."

"Your niece called me. Kristen. She said you'd hired an investigator to find me, but now you're afraid I might not want to talk to you."

Kristen? If Jalal wanted to go behind my back, why would he have Kristen call? "Well … I told her I didn't know if contacting you was a good idea."

"Yeah. She said she sneaked my number when you weren't looking. Don't get mad at her. She seems like a nice girl."

"She's pretty special, yes."

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't want to talk to you. I think about you almost every day, sis."

I lose it. In seconds, I'm sobbing so hard I can't speak. The Fates must have told Jalal to take a break because he walks into the kitchen now, takes one look at me, and grabs the phone from my hand.

"Who is this?" As he listens, his expression turns from alarm to surprise and then puzzlement. "Kristen?" He shakes his head, smiling. "Yes, Renee is a little upset right now but in a good way, I think." He questions me with raised brows, and I nod. "All right," he says to Brandon. "That would be great. She will talk to you later."

He lays my phone on the table and hands me a napkin. Then he crouches beside me and takes my hand. "This is a wonderful day for you," he says.

I hope he's right.