An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (31 page)

My bones are cold. I go in the house and make coffee, drinking it as I walk through the rooms. In this kitchen and living room, we are a family. In this nursery, I am a mother. On this bed, Jalal and I are lovers. This is a house. A nice house in a place I love, but not if I'm alone.

Jalal's right about that too; I don't try hard enough to make Coelho my home. That's not only selfish, it's stupid. Home is not a physical place. Home is where Jalal and the kids are.

"Talk to your husband," said Shadi. "Talk to Jalal," said Jennie. And yet, I never
really
do because I fear that intimacy, that honesty of the soul. Where's the Renee who forced Jalal to confront the truth about Meredith's death? Where's that fierce and fearless Renee? She's got "this wimp thing going on." Not acceptable.

I check the clock, and then dump the rest of the coffee and wash the cup and pot. It's too late to make it to Judith's for the first round of cocktails, but if I leave now, I'll definitely be there before the last.

Kristen and the kids are picking up toys in the playroom. She looks up, surprised, when I walk in. "Uncle J's already left. He said you might be late tonight."

"Well, I'm here, but I'm leaving again. Is that all right? Can you stay with the kids?"

"Sure. I planned on being here until he got home. Where are you going now?"

"What did Jalal tell you?"

"You know Uncle J, but I figured if you were missing the party, it was because you're fighting."

"I was acting stupid. But I do need to go to this party."

"Good. He looked pretty sad when he left."

Kristen suggests I take a shower while she gives the kids their baths, so I meet her in the nursery for story time. She reads as I nurse Mia Grace. It's too early to put them to bed, so Kristen settles with them on the sofa in my room and starts a movie. "They'll probably fall asleep soon," I tell her. "Can you move them to their beds, then?"

"No problem," she says. "You should call a taxi. You'll be coming home in Uncle J's car, right?"

I give her a thumb's up and call, asking to be picked up in twenty minutes."

What Kristen read as Jalal's sadness was surely anger, and rightly so. But I'm going to make him proud tonight. I'll show up looking high-class and ready to schmooze with the best of them. I'll slam Coelho society like a mosh pit.

Renee is back.

I'm glad Kristen suggested a taxi because by the time I get to Judith's, every parking spot for blocks is taken. God, how could I have been so self-absorbed to think I could skip this party? Everyone we know in Coelho must be here. At least, with a crowd this big, I can probably slip in unnoticed.

They've set up the bar in the foyer, so I enter the party with a glass of wine already in hand. I return a few greetings, all the while scanning for Judith, Hank, or Jalal. I spot Aza and Paul on the far side of the room. As I make my way toward them, a familiar laugh, the one that sets my nerves on edge, stops me. I glance around, directly into Diane's eyes. Her head is turned in my direction, away from the group she's in, and now she smiles at me. The laugh was no coincidence. She's standing next to Jalal. She's practically glued to him. And her hand rests on his back, between his shoulder blades.

My field of vision narrows to her hand. It moves in a small circle but not just brushing the fabric. She's pressing it against him, caressing him. And Jalal's not pulling away. He's laughing and talking with her by his side, as if that's the most natural thing in the world.

Diane has taken my place.

I spin away. Wine splashes over the rim of my glass, but I don't care. I'm moving, half-blind, back the way I came. I exit into a cold rain. The glass is still in my hand, so I set it on the rim of the planter by the front door and tie my thin, silk shawl around my shoulders. I phone for a taxi, praying I won't have to wait long. I'm in luck. The driver who dropped me off, arrives in less than five minutes.

Kristen is in our room watching TV. She questions me with her eyes, but when I don't offer an explanation, she says goodnight and leaves. I run a bath as hot as I can stand and sink down into it. After a moment, I hold my breath and slip beneath the surface. Is this how it feels to be a baby, safe in the womb? My babies. They'll never feel safe again. I sit up and wipe the water from my eyes.

Jalal stands across the room, staring at me. I ignore him.

"Hank told me he saw you at the party. Why did you leave?"

Jalal's voice comes to me from a distance. His words have nothing to do with me. I feel no need to respond. This is just a bad dream. I sink back under the water. He speaks again, his voice even more distant now. I run out of air and sit up. This is no dream.

"Talk to me, Renee. What is going on?"

I stare at him, seeing him for the complete stranger he is.

"I think you need to see that doctor again," he says.

This time, I look into his soul. I stare until he looks away. "And I think you need to sleep in another room."

S
unrise is sneaky. You watch the color of the sky pale oh so slowly from charcoal to pewter to silver, then you blink and, during the microsecond your eyes are closed, it bursts into pink and gold. I should get out of bed. Adam and Mia Grace are awake. Over the monitor, I heard them both ask for me, but I couldn't move. Jalal hushed them, telling them I was sleeping. I listened to the sounds of him caring for our babies. Then he turned off the monitor and took them down to breakfast. He left me drowning in silence.

He wants me to go back to the psychiatrist.
Well you see, doctor, my husband is having an affair, but he wants me to believe it's all in my head. He thinks the solution is for you to whack me out with drugs, so I won't make life difficult for him. Ain't he a peach?

I have ten thousand dollars in my checking account and I co-own a restaurant. I have a car and a beach house—surely he'll let me and the kids live there. Jennie can cut back on her hours because I'll work them while she stays with the kids. It's a win for everyone.

Except … "'Divorce cannot be in our vocabulary.'"

A little hand touches my cheek. I open my eyes to Adam standing by the bed.

"Don't be sad, Mama."

I blot my face on the sheet and force a smile. "Sometimes Mama's cry when they're happy."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Because I love you so much."

"Mee-Grays too?"

"Oh, yes. Mia Grace too."

"And Baba Daddy?"

I nod and hug him to me. He doesn't understand that love is not one-size-fits-all. Love has many meanings, many degrees. I still love Jalal. But
how
do I love him?

"Let Mama sleep," Jalal says from the doorway to Adam's room.

"She waked up."

I turn my face away and sit up. "It's all right."

Mia Grace, in Jalal's arms, calls to me.

"Just a minute, sweet baby. Adam, go with Daddy while I get dressed."

They're in the playroom when I come down. I start to make coffee, but the pot is already full. He made coffee for me, as usual. I fill my mug and cross the floor to the couch. When I sit, Jalal stands.

"I fed them breakfast," he says.

"Thank you."

He lifts Mia Grace from her spot on the floor beside Adam and kisses her. Then he does the same to Adam. Without another word he leaves the room. I expect him to head to his office. Instead, the door to the laundry room closes and then, fainter, the door to the garage. Mia Grace tries to climb on my lap. When I reach for her with my left hand, I slosh coffee over the rim of my cup and burn my right hand. I gasp, but I don't show that it hurts. I hide my pain. I push it down and roll on, the way I've always done.

Seconds after I leave the kids to their play and set down at the table with a second cup, Aza knocks on the back door. But when she doesn't open it, like she usually does, I call for her to come in. "Why so formal?" I ask.

She glances around. "I didn't want to interrupt anything."

"He's not here. Do you want a cup of coffee?"

She nods and takes a seat at the table.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"It's after ten."

Of course she's eaten. She wakes early and starving like her brother. It's too close to lunchtime to eat much, so I grab a pear as I head to the table with her cup. "Were you coming in from the garden?"

"Yes." She spoons sugar into her coffee and stirs. "There isn't really any work to do right now, though. It's too muddy." She blows into her cup. "But it looks like the sun might stay out today. For a while, at least."

I wait for her to change the subject, but she seems content with sipping and stirring this morning. This is going to take forever. Obviously, she knows I caught Jalal and Diane, so I might as well hear what she has to say about it. "Do you have a comment on last night, Aza?"

"Last night?"

I stare at her until she looks back down at her cup.

"I … I'm sorry you didn't stay at the party," she says. "I didn't even know you were there until Jalal asked me if I'd seen you. I'm sure Judith—"

"I'll apologize to Judith later today. She'll understand. Or maybe not. After all, she's more Jalal's friend than mine."

"What did he do?" She looks at me now, eyes wide as if she's surprised by her directness.

"You were there. I'm sure you know."

"But I don't, and … neither does Jalal."

I stand and put the untouched pear back in the fruit bowl. "If he told you that, Aza, then you need to face the fact your brother lies to you. Apparently, so does your best friend." I cross the floor and lift Mia Grace from the play corral. "Come on, Adam. Let's put on warmer clothes and go visit the 'elfunts.'"

The zoo is a mistake. Just as we arrive, the sky clouds over and the wind picks up. Most of the animals stay in their shelters. Adam whines and Mia Grace fusses, as if echoing my mood. We leave after twenty minutes. Even though Adam rarely naps in the mornings now, they both fall asleep on the way home.

Judith's car is parked out front and Jalal's car is in the garage. Great. I'll have to face them both. But not for long. I leave the keys in the ignition and my purse on the seat. Jalal appears as I'm unbuckling Mia Grace's car seat. Without a word, he carries Adam into the house. Aza, Judith, and Hank are in the kitchen. Aza takes Mia Grace from me and follows Jalal upstairs.

"We stopped by to invite you and Jalal out for lunch," Hank says as naturally as if they do that every day. "We've been chomping at the bit to try that new Japanese steakhouse."

"Oh. I'm sorry, but I have an appointment in a few minutes."

"But when we got here Aza said you'd just left for the zoo," Judith says.

"Yes, well … we came right back because I remembered I'm supposed to get my hair trimmed at eleven thirty."

"You went to the salon two days ago," Jalal says from behind me.

I walk to the table and hug Judith and Hank. "Congratulations," I tell them. "I'm sorry I didn't see you last night."

"But why did you leave?" Hank asks.

"I really don't want to be rude," I say, "but I have to go."

"Renee," Judith reaches for my hand. I pull away.

"Ask Jalal," I tell her. "He can give you all the details—if he can tell the truth for once."

I slam out the door and then nearly take out a planter beside the garage as I tear out of there. I'm sick of all the game playing. Let Jalal come clean and take the blame. I drive for ten minutes before I know where I'm headed.

It's raining again, so the cemetery is deserted except for a few people gathered at a distant burial. They say if it rains on a funeral, the deceased goes to heaven. It didn't rain the day they buried Becky. I stood in the sun that late spring day and witnessed the ugly end to a desperate life. Indigents aren't buried in sections like Meredith's. They're given the plots no one else would pay for. Becky got a spot beside the maintenance shed, where most of the grass had surrendered to the weeds. The city was supposed to mark her grave with a numbered cement brick. Five weeks later, right before I left Indiana, I went back to check. They hadn't placed it yet. Maybe they never did.

Meredith's grave has had two markers. Gone is the one engraved with hers and Jalal's names. Her new one is sleeker, a white marble obelisk accented with a spray of carved roses arced around her name. I'm creeped out again by Jalal's and my name side-by-side on the black double marker. I've been here with him only once, right after these new stones were installed, but I suspect he comes here often. Aza brings roses when they're in bloom.

I open the iron gate and walk to the bench where I sat three years ago, the day I came to tell Meredith I was pregnant with Adam. On that happy day, the sun drenched everything in golden light. Today, it's as if the leaden sky weeps with me.

I've made my peace with Meredith. The ghost that haunts my nights is not hers. It's a part of me, that black hole in my soul that sucks the joy out of every good thing in my life. Jalal was supposed to fill up that hole. He promised to love me that much.

"Meredith?" I whisper. The memory of standing at my mother's grave rushes back and silences me. In all the years since, I've never felt Becky's presence, never sensed any communication. Maybe Meredith is different. She loved Jalal too. She could sympathize. "Can you hear me?" My heart leaps at a sound. I wait. It's only the elm branches shuddering in the cold wind. I breathe in and out, focusing my will, trying to call her. Oh. Something's here. A presence. In a desperate grasp, I speak to it, "I'm afraid I've lost him."

"Never."

I'm on my feet in a flash, spinning toward the voice. "Jalal."

He stands outside the fence, his hands gripping the gate. "I promised I would never leave you, Renee."

"You also promised to love me forever."

"When did I break either of those promises?"

"I saw you with her last night and—"

"What the … Aza said …" He shakes his head and a raindrop from one black curl runs down his cheek. "You saw nothing, Renee, because there was nothing for you to see. Nothing."

My nails cut into my palms. "I can't trust you."