The Sea of Aaron (17 page)

There was a moment of silence. “I suppose I could call,” Aaron said finally, in an irritated, slightly offhand sort of way. “Is that it?”

He sounded impatient and his eyes glimmered with what could only be defined as deferred lust. She wanted desperately to say yes, that their disruptive conversation was over, but his single-mindedness struck her as manipulative and controlling. She'd hardly settled anything, and somehow it seemed that she was always made out to be the one who was in the wrong. It was also perfectly obvious that he couldn't care less about what was going on in her mind; he had only one agenda. Physical satisfaction.

“No, that's not it,” she said slowly. “I have a question for you.” Yes, she might as well clear the air once and for all. “Don't take this the wrong way, but why is it you always use protection when we're together? I mean, it's pointless. We're married, and neither of us has a communicable disease. We both had blood tests, and it's not like I'm going to get pregnant.”

His eyes had gone cold again. “Habit,” he said. “And it never bothered you before, so why now?”

“Wrong. It
has
bothered me. I just didn't say anything because I hoped you would stop doing it on your own without being asked. It's kind of…well…insulting to me. It makes me feel as if I'm contaminated in some way.”

Aaron looked disgusted. “Contaminated? I don't know where you get your bizarre ideas. Maybe I'm the one who's contaminated. Have you ever thought of that?”

Aghast, Valerie glared at him. “No, I haven't thought of that because there's nothing wrong with you. I've seen your blood test results.”

Aaron got up and moved over to the opposite side of the bed. “It's late,” he said dryly, as if suddenly realizing that he was tired. “I have things to do tomorrow and I assume you do as well.”

Nice going, Val,
she thought to herself.
Now you've gone and killed his desire.
“Two things,” she said. “All I mentioned were two things that can easily be rectified and now I'm the spoilsport, the evil woman.”

Aaron remained silent and clicked off the lamp on his side of the bed.

“Fine. Be like that.” She turned around and left the room. “Have a good night.”

Valerie spent the rest of the pre-dawn hours in the spare bedroom. So much for her little talk with Denise. If her cousin had been a fly on the wall listening to that appalling exchange, Valerie truly would be eating crow right now.

***

Other than his morning jog, Aaron didn't have any concrete plans for the day, and he was grateful because weariness had set in. He'd had only about five hours of straight sleep in the past week. The exhaustion wasn't just from the mechanics of flying and the altering time zones, but because he also physically labored along with the rest of the crew unloading shipments. The only time he'd sit back and fly a desk would be when he was too old to bench press 350 pounds. Of course he had to admit and accept that the human body could only take so much.

Valerie had been upset with him last night. It had been wishful thinking to believe that she would fully accept his lifestyle. Still, she had been honest enough to tell him that she wouldn't just keep silent and that there were times when she would question and challenge him. After years of independence and isolation it was difficult to break old habits, but he was actually enjoying having someone in his corner who cared about him without ulterior motives. She was not only a friend and lover but a nurturer, and a good person as well; and when they were in sync, body and soul, few experiences could rival the pleasure he derived. In truth, there were only two things she could do that he would find intolerable, and those things involved issues of trust. So far she hadn't broken those rules. Surely she was worth giving up a few quirks.

By the time he'd returned to the apartment, showered, and shaved, he heard her moving around in the kitchen and could smell coffee brewing. She wasn't much of a coffee drinker herself, so at least he knew she wasn't so angry that she planned to ignore him.

“Good morning,” he said, quietly entering the kitchen with the
Wall Street Journal
tucked under his arm.

She had her back turned and was wearing a long blue robe. Her hair, which she was letting grow out, hung in loose ripples around her shoulders. He wanted to touch it and kiss the back of her neck. But overt affection seemed premature, considering last night.

“Good morning,” Valerie said without looking up. She was pouring something from a bowl into a skillet. Pancakes? French toast? He wasn't overly fond of either, but if she intended to serve boiled tripe, he'd eat that, too.

“Aaron, I've been thinking about going back to work.”

He took a seat at the table. “You don't have to.”

“I know that. But I've been missing the action lately, and since you're gone most of the time, there's no reason for me to just float around doing nothing.”

She moved breezily behind him, perfuming the air with a pleasantly fruity essence, and set the plate in front of him. “Being the workaholic you are, you should understand that feeling.”

“I do,” he admitted, “but aren't you occupied with the house?”

“Yes, but that's not enough. There's plenty of time left to take a part-time job.”

Aaron shrugged. “You might not want to start next week, though.”

“Why?” She sat near him.

“I'm going back to Israel for a few days and I thought, with you being a Christian and all, that some of the historical sites might be of interest to you.”

She was dumbstruck for a second, but she recovered quickly. “I'm definitely interested in going. But I'm surprised. This…this trip is pretty monumental for you, isn't it? You've avoided it for so many years.”

“I'd like to see my uncle,” Aaron said tightly. “Gabriel's up in years, and I figure it's about time.”

Her hand reached out and closed around his wrist. “If you want me to come, of course I will.”

“You'll also get to meet Andrew. He's on furlough right now, and he'll be joining us. He's never been to Israel, either.”

Valerie's eyes widened. “Your son's never been?”

“He hasn't had much of an interest in that side of his roots, until now.” Aaron shrugged offhandedly. “Not to mention that I haven't exactly encouraged him.”

A long silence ensued, in which the ticking of the overhead clock sounded like a heartbeat. “I just want you to know,” Valerie said slowly, carefully, “that I'm sorry for the way things were last night.”

His eyebrows arched as he looked at her. He didn't intend to apologize and he wasn't expecting her to, either.

“I'm apologizing only because the anger was childish,” Valerie said. “But I'm not sorry for what I requested of you. I meant every word of that.”

“Of course you meant it. You don't seem to be in the habit of saying things you don't mean.” He studied her expression. “And while I might not submit to all your requests, there's nothing wrong with speaking out, especially since you have such a dramatic, interesting way of being confrontational.”

She frowned slightly, realizing that he was amused and turned on by her wrath. However, he didn't give her a chance to protest.

“Since we've been together I've been counting on you to be honest, and that's one of the things I like about you.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, a nice, sweet, affectionate kiss that he hoped was devoid of innuendo.

She smiled now. “I'm just glad you're home that's all.”

They arrived in Israel late on a Monday afternoon on a commercial El Al flight from JFK to Ben Gurion Airport. Aaron rented a car and they sped through the modern, bustling port city of Tel Aviv.

They checked into their two-bedroom hotel suite overlooking the Mediterranean. The extra room was for Andrew, who would be arriving later. Aaron had told her that this was the only night they'd stay in Tel Aviv. The rest of the time would be spent in the Jerusalem and Galilee areas, which couldn't have pleased her more, since she was more interested in seeing firsthand the places depicted in the Bible.

An hour later, while they were settling in, Andrew telephoned Aaron, announcing that he would arrive in roughly two hours and that he had a girlfriend with him.

Even though he made no comment, Valerie knew instinctively that this annoyed Aaron, who didn't appreciate even the minutest of plan changes. To be perfectly honest, she was a bit annoyed, too. Not for the same reason, but because she'd wanted to meet and get to know Andrew as an individual, not as part of a couple. She also viewed the arrangement as inconsiderate of her traditional Christian scruples. The extra room in their hotel had been intended for a single person only, not for an unmarried couple sleeping together.

***

Andrew and his girlfriend were fifteen minutes late when they joined them at the table in a restaurant that specialized in Middle Eastern cuisine. Aaron stood up and the two men clasped hands in such a rapid greeting that Valerie almost missed it.
Oh, come
on
, she thought.
You two haven't seen each other in a while; doesn't that rate more than just a handshake?
But regardless of their lack of exuberance, she could see affection in the eyes of both.

The son also rose to towering heights. Standing only an inch shorter than his father, Andrew was as handsome as his picture—even more so because he had a golden, outdoorsy tan that accentuated his aquamarine eyes. Both men were attracting the none-too-subtle attention of other patrons in the restaurant.

“Valerie, we finally meet,” Andrew said. With no hesitation or reservation, he bent and kissed her on the cheek. “Now I understand why my father finally changed his mind about marriage.”

He possessed just the slightest hint of a Southern accent. “Nice to meet you, Andrew,” Valerie said, smiling in a manner that she hoped conveyed warmth. She had never been a shy person, but now she felt stiff and she wondered if it had something to do with being in the presence of two such powerful-looking men, who were also polar opposites of each other. “I've heard many good things about you.” She carefully controlled the tone and pitch of her voice.

Andrew's eyes twinkled. “Make no mistake about it, none of those good things are true.”

He went on to introduce his clearly overwhelmed girlfriend, Melissa, who'd retreated to the background during the initial greetings. Melissa was a visually stunning girl with hazel eyes, waist-length strawberry blonde hair, and an impressive body with curves that were well showcased in her short little black dress.

“Oh, my gosh,” she gushed as she shook Aaron's hand, while he looked as if he were contemplating either muzzling her or eating her as an appetizer. “I'm so happy to meet you. I mean, it's hard to believe that you're Drew's father.” She hesitated and blushed, perhaps realizing, too late, that her mouth wasn't connected to her brain. “I don't mean that you don't resemble each other…It's funny 'cause you actually kinda do. What I'm trying to say is that you don't look old enough to be his father.”

“Flattery does have its place. Thank you, Melissa.” Aaron forced a smile, carefully extracted his hand, and in a manner that was clearly dismissive, focused his eyes elsewhere.

But the girl didn't stop. “You don't have to call me Melissa. All my friends call me Muffy, which is silly I know, but it's my nickname.” She took a deep breath.

Enough already. Stop shooting yourself in the foot.
Valerie silently willed the girl to shut her mouth, but to no avail.

“It's so absolutely amazing…you and Drew are like the dark and light versions of each other. When Drew first told me that his real father was African-Amer…I mean, African-Israeli, I thought at first that you were one of the Ethiop—”

“Let's order,” Andrew interrupted as he mercifully pulled out a chair for Melissa, who looked flustered, and sat. Once everyone was settled, the conversation quickly segued into a discussion about the intense security on El Al flights.

“It was just awful,” Melissa said with a pitchy giggle. “I don't ever want to fly that airline again. I mean, it should be pretty obvious to everyone that Drew and I don't look like terrorists.”

No one responded to her comment. The men continued to talk as if she had said nothing at all. Valerie managed to hold her own in the ensuing conversation, but found herself feeling sorry for Melissa, who, every time she opened her mouth, however briefly, consistently managed to insert foot.

Thankfully, when the food arrived, girlfriend calmed into complete silence, but the fact that her hands shook when she unfolded her napkin didn't go unnoticed by Valerie. Halfway through the meal, Melissa got up and retreated to the ladies' room.

“So where did you meet the girl, Hooters?” Aaron asked.

“No. The club was called Knickers,” Andrew responded straight-faced. “She's a waitress working her way through college.”

“Clothed or unclothed?”

“Clothed.” Andrew smirked. “At least she was when we met.”

Aaron frowned, studying his wine glass. “Why did you bring her?”

Andrew shrugged. “Aww, c'mon, Captain, don't be like that. She's sweet and she wanted to come. Said she always wanted to see the Holy Land.”

The sarcasm in Andrew's tone was unmistakable. Valerie had heard enough. “You know, it's none of my business, but talking about Melissa like that is not only rude, but cruel.” She took a sharp intake of breath. “Okay, so I gather she's no Rhodes scholar, but she's still a human being with feelings.” She looked directly at Andrew, making eye contact. “Your father was right to ask you why you brought her here, because I'm wondering the same thing. I mean, is she really a girlfriend? How could she be if you don't even think enough of her to defend her?” She stood up, without waiting for a response. “Excuse me, I'm going to the ladies' room to see if she's okay.”

Andrew's blue eyes widened in surprise as he watched her stalk off down the hall. He glanced at Aaron, who shrugged and looked impassive.

“I'm impressed,” Andrew said after Valerie had gone. “She sure speaks her mind.”

“Yes,” Aaron replied. “That she does.”

***

Early the next morning they drove to Jerusalem, where Aaron tolerated everyone's gawking at the ancient city. They visited the Western Wall and mingled with ordinary tourists, Ethiopians, and bearded orthodox Jews with side curls, black suits, and big hats. Aaron was better than a tour guide because he patiently explained everything. He showed them the place where the famous temple had once stood—now the gold-crested Islamic Dome of the Rock and he told them interesting anecdotes that only an expatriate would know.

Valerie was both impressed and sobered by the historic city. With every step she took down cobbled streets she thought of her father, who had longed to take this trip, but had forfeited the opportunity because his wife was afraid to travel. Aaron was such a wealth of knowledge, yet at the same time seemed so emotionally detached from his childhood environment.

While she felt no sense of real danger as they strolled around taking in the sights, the hot air seemed to throb with the decades of tension between the Palestinians and the Jews. Although in some places the dividing line between Arab and Jewish territory was invisible, you always knew when you'd crossed over.

Valerie was secretly relieved that Andrew had not been offended by her comments about Melissa in the restaurant last night. Very much like his father, the younger man seemed to embrace conflicting opinions and assertiveness from the opposite sex. She was also pleased that she had managed to assure Melissa that she wasn't a pariah. The poor girl had been convinced that Aaron hated her. Valerie had told her that her husband was simply a quiet, stoic sort of guy, who often had an unsettling effect on people. Now Melissa had taken her advice and decided the best course of action was to be a good listener rather than a chatterer.

The second day they toured the Galilee area, and, as Drew and Melissa walked way ahead of them, Valerie got her first view of the famous Sea of Galilee.

“What do you think?” Aaron asked as they stood together on the rocky banks of the placid cobalt sea, which was barricaded by mountains.

“I can't believe I'm actually here.” She spoke in a reverent whisper. “But I'm a little surprised. I expected it to be larger.”

“It probably was larger way back when, but time and erosion have played havoc with the landscape,” Aaron admitted. “On the other hand biblical accounts do tend to be larger than life.”

Valerie scanned the horizon. “I don't quite agree with that. I guess it looks small because it's so peaceful right now…peaceful in contrast to what the Bible said about the raging storm at sea and Jesus walking on water.”

“Are you disappointed because you're not seeing a glowing paranormal figure skimming the surface of the waters?”

She gave him an exasperated slap. “That's not funny.”

“You're the believer,” Aaron said, a teasing inflection in his voice. “But the Bible account of stormy seas is scientifically accurate. This lake is both shallow and well below sea level. Because it's surrounded by mountains, when the colder wind blows and meets the warm water temperatures, it can really stir things up. Squalls can occur suddenly without warning.”

Much to her delight, he began to quote Matthew 8:24 and 14:24 without benefit of having a Bible. She was almost ashamed that he could quote scriptures more accurately than she could, and the power and resonance of his voice gave her a haunting sense of
déjà vu.
He sounded like her father.

The third and final day, Drew insisted that they had to visit Masada, and so they arrived at the base of the desert mountain in the still dark pre-dawn hours, with Melissa yawning and a bit whiney but trying hard to be a good sport. Aaron now told them that morning was best because once the sun came up the soaring temperatures became intolerable.

There was cable car access, which both Melissa and Valerie would have preferred, but Aaron and Drew, steeped in their macho roughing-it mentality, decided they had to hike the arduous winding trail, appropriately called the snake path. Valerie didn't complain, although she found the physical strain of climbing the mountain path challenging.

Both couples were dressed similarly in hiking boots, T-shirts, and khakis, although Melissa had opted for khaki shorts. They carried bottles of water and were coated in layers of sun block, courtesy of the women. Neither man had felt like arguing over the nuisances of applying the skin protection, so they'd simply complied. Melissa started out strong and enthusiastic, but within fifteen minutes of the hour-long trek, the heat nearly caused her to pass out, and Drew ended up carrying her most of the way. Valerie noted that other than sweating, neither Aaron nor Andrew showed any sign of fatigue.

At the top of the summit were the ruins of what had once been the over two-thousand-year-old palatial retreat for Herod the Great. From the heights, Valerie could see the entire valley with the Dead Sea, which seemed very much alive and glistened like a jewel. The view was magnificent.

As tourists gathered and the sun slowly began its spectacular ascent, Aaron began to tell the harrowing story of the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans. When the sun reached its peak—a molten ball of gold in the multi-hued sky—Aaron dramatically accounted the story of Masada, of how the last survivors of the destruction held off the Romans for months, and then, when all hope was gone, refused to be taken captive and committed suicide instead. He ended his account by repeating the swearing-in oath familiar to every IDF recruit: “Masada shall not fall again.”

A tragic and compelling tale, Valerie thought, but Masada did not have any biblical significance to her. What was the honor in having to resort to killing yourself and your family? She didn't get it, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The audience didn't feel that way. They were moved by the surroundings and the account.

“Wow,” Melissa whispered loudly to Andrew. “Your dad's awesome. Scary, but awesome.”

Drew grinned and wrapped his arm around her. “The Captain has many talents. I'll be playing catch-up for the rest of my life.”

Overhearing, Valerie nudged him. “You're off to a decent start.”

The mountain that had taken an hour to climb took under thirty minutes to descend. From there they visited the Dead Sea resort and Andrew and Melissa decided to linger and explore. Valerie was amazed at the warm temperature and the weird buoyancy of the salty water—so salty that it was impossible to sink in. She would have donned a bathing suit and attempted to swim, but Aaron wanted no part of that scene.

“Drew and Muffin are staying awhile,” Aaron said. “Unless you're interested in rolling around in salt and covering yourself with sea mud, I suggest we go find lunch.”

“No. I'm with you.” She curled her finger around his belt loop and tugged gently. “The name is Muffy, hon, not Muffin.”