by Galia Albin
Chapter 57
Good old Keiserman, as always solid as a rock and totally dependable, urged her to take more active roles in her business ventures, invest her surplus funds in real estate, and take steps to ensure the future of her children. With tears in her eyes, she signed a will in front of two lawyers— she decided on two, for extra protection; the lawyers were appointed the children’s guardians, if God forbid, something should happen to her.
A strong feeling of dѐĵā vu evoked the memory of the time Jonathan had signed the will in the judge’s chambers. Every detail was sharply etched in her memory; Jonathan and the judge exchanged jokes, while she stood at the door, irate and recalcitrant. The whole occasion seemed to her frightening, menacing, completely uncalled for. How childish and naive she had been then! She was pregnant with Michali. It seemed like dozens of years had passed since then. She could have written a book on the ups and downs of her life since then, a book that could be made into a movie or a soap opera—“The Life of Talia S.” But all that she, the goody-two-shoes from Haifa, ever wanted was to be a sweet little wife, to live her sweet little life with her sweet little children!
“This is exactly what you won father would have advised you, Talinka: real estate and a properly drawn will. This is good middle-class wisdom,” Keiserman interrupted her reverie with his soothing voice. “First of all this will allay any fears you may have about the children’s future. If, God forbid, anything should happen to you, they at least will not suffer.” With his keep senses and his deep love for her, Keiserman had divined the deep seated, repressed fears she had underneath the facade, the show of courage, the optimism that always propelled her forward; but from him, from her father’s faithful friend, she could not hid her latent fears, especially those concerning Udi and Michal. Late at night, unable to fall asleep, she imagined frightening scenarios in which her children were orphaned of both their parents.
The sale of the magazine freed Talia from mental distress and pressure, but the amount of free time that was now at her disposal left her edgy. Keiserman, who knew she didn’t like being idle, suggested she enter a public tender for new television, cable and radio channels that were just opening. “I’ve already applied, Moshe,” she told him, “I’m waiting to hear if my bid has been accepted.”
That night the phone rang at her house. It was Micah on the line.
Talia’s heart skipped a beat. Ditty and Eden were still staying with her, but, unfortunately, they were out on some errands. Talia saw sure that he wanted to speak to them. It’s high time, she thought, after almost a month of silence. She, however, was not going to make it easy for him.
“What do you want?” she asked in a chilly voice.
“I want to meet with you, Talia.”
“With me? Whatever for? If it’s about your wife and daughter, leave me out of it, I’m not going to interfere.”
There was no anger or tension in his voice. “I think it’s time we put an end to our little tiff, Talia. I’ll explain everything. I’m even willing to apologize for the way I acted toward you.” He sounded conciliatory, even a little apprehensive, and Talia wondered if this was a ploy, his way of transmitting messages to Ditty and Eden. Ditty always maintained she had no complaints about Micah as a father. At least the man is not a complete villain, Talia thought, and yet she had her doubts; her heart told her that Micah would take advantage of Ditty’s forgiving nature. Even the slightest display of remorse on his part would induce her to go back to him. Ditty often said that Eden needed her father, which to some extent was true...
Talia kept quiet, waiting for him to go on. Maybe he is setting a trap for her? You have to be careful with Micah. And yet she detected a new and unfamiliar note in his voice, an attempt to please, to make an impression on her.
“It’s about the bid for media channels. You know that I sit on the commission to decide who should win those bids. We’re meeting tomorrow at the Herod Hotel in Caesarea.”
At once she was engulfed by a wave of despair. There’s no point, she thought, wherever I go, he’s one step ahead of me. But then a new thought occurred to her; if he wanted to destroy me, he could have done so with one fell swoop, so why is he being so nice to me? What’s behind all this?”
Her silence emboldened him and he went on, “What do you say we get together before the commission’s meeting? Come and see me at the room where the meeting will take place the following day.”
The pervert! He never gives up! Talia was furious. His battered wife and his daughter are staying at my house, and he has the gall to proposition me! He fancies the idea of using the same room where the commission was going to meet the next day! Talia was about to hang up indignantly, but not before telling him exactly what she thought of him...
“Talia, don’t say no, you know that if I want, I can be of help to you... We, at the committee, haven’t made up our minds, so why don’t you try to persuade me?”
The hand about to hang up stopped. “All right, Micah. I’ll get back to you in ten minutes.”
I must put my thoughts in order, Talia told herself. Her hands shook and her heart pounded like a hammer. God knew, she wanted to win the tender, but she detested Micah. He was a despicable louse, her enemy; what deal could he possibly offer her? The whole thing sounded suspicious; in fact, it stank. But she was no Mother Teresa, and in a world full of hyenas and wolves, she could run with them, too.
Talia was thirty-seven years old now, but along with her face and body, that seemed to stay so much younger, her personality had not really matured or settled. She often felt unsure about her own self -mage, and had contradictory perceptions of herself. She wondered how to define herself, since she didn’t have a definitive, conclusive mental picture of herself; she was strong and weak, assertive and submissive, humble and megalomaniacal, sly and innocent, independent yet yearning for a man who would sweep her off her feet, ride with her into the sunset. She was that sentimental.
From time to time, she would pick one characteristic of her complex nature, nourish and envelop it, suit her actions to fit it and, eventually, beguiled herself into believing that that was her real nature. At one point she was the energetic businesswoman, the tough, goal-oriented go-getter, at another, she was childish, dependent and enchanting. When she was a little girl, she’d won her father’s heart with her dramatic skills. Now it is time, she thought, to present Micah with the undisclosed side of her personality, the femme fatale, the conqueror of men’s hearts. She would entice, cajole, play the kitten. It’s time to take the costume that she so rarely used out of storage.
Sometimes she blamed her mother, who represented the ethos of the previous generation, for never teaching her the rules of this game. But why am I blaming my mother, she chided herself, she didn’t have an easy life, and yet she’d successfully managed a chain of stores in a generation where women were mostly assigned the job of homemaker; my father didn’t like her independent spirit, and he fell in love with the beautiful, passive Su-lin...
Talia stopped her train of thought; she felt like a traitor. She was surprised by the disloyal view she had of her father. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to be critical of her beloved, cherished father. But she fortified herself, refusing to be daunted, and continued her stream of thoughts that she felt would lead her to a solution to the problem of Micah.
Since Jonathan’s death, Talia had found herself contending with men in a man’s world. Men were attracted to her, but they also battled with her. The fact that they were drawn to her did not really please her, nor did it benefit her, whereas their battles against her caused her damage and attrition. Except for the avuncular Keiserman and the vulgar bohemian Caspi—who in his own way was consistent and fair—she found that most men did not treat her fairly. “They adore you,” Ditty had told her in one of their recent talks, more profound and revealing since she had left Micah, “but you threaten them. If you want to put it realistically, men want to sleep with you, but as for admitting you into their c
lub, forget it! No way!”
Talia, herself, had come to the same conclusion, gradually, the hard way. She hardly even minded, as harsh reality had worn her out and dulled her pain. What can you do, the world is run by men, she told herself, they impose their own criteria—which involve less feeling, less caring, less loving kindness. We are like parallel lines that never meet. Even in the advanced business administration course she’d taken a few years earlier at Harvard, there were hardly any female students, and not one female lecturer. Ditty used to tell her that her own colleagues at the university, while they like her very much, would schedule all faculty meetings for Fridays, the typical day for errands and chores around the house, or late at night, when her daughter needed her at home. Ditty laughed bitterly, “They have a wife at home, someone who is always at their beck and call at no extra charge. You and me, too, need a wife.”
The business world is closed to women, almost like the pilot training course or the navy seals or an orthodox yeshiva, Talia summed up the situation, but she yearned to penetrate that world at all cost. She was determined to fight her way by all means at her disposal, even if they were unorthodox, inelegant or unethical....
Whatever happens, she told herself resolutely, I am going to give Micah a taste of his own medicine. He will not play me for a sucker. If anybody tries to take me down just for being a woman, I’m going to defeat him by playing a woman’s card. Nobody is going to take that bid away from me, and certainly not Micah!