by Jane Toombs
What his twin wanted to do was exactly what he’d wish to do under the same circumstances. He’d unknowingly sired a son and, now that he’d found out about the boy, he wanted to raise him. What Talal didn’t realize was how devastating taking Danny away from Karen would be both to her and the boy. He was damned if he meant to allow his twin to hurt either of them.
Watching Talal struggle to his feet, he tried to put words together that might convince him to change his mind.
Before he could speak, Talal said, “Apparently I’ve plunged your household into turmoil. It’s clear I’ve out-stayed my welcome. Will you be kind enough to walk me to my car?”
Zed nodded. After giving Karen a reassuring pat, he saw his brother out the door and over to the red sports car parked in front. A foreign job, exactly as he’d thought.
“Some attention grabber,” he told Talal. “It’s a beaut. I’ll bet it’s also a ticket attracter.”
“Pardon?” Talal said.
“We have a theory in Nevada that red cars attract more speeding tickets than any other color.”
“Oh?”
“Look, we have to talk,” Zed said. “How about giving me a lift to Lucky Joe’s in that cop magnet of yours? I could use a beer. How about you?” As soon as the words were out, Zed remembered most Arabs didn’t drink alcohol. “Sorry,” he added. “I forgot you’re probably a Muslim.”
“In Kholi I abide by their laws. Here in your country, I abide by yours. I learned to enjoy an occasional beer when I was at Princeton. Lucky Joe’s it is.”
On the way to the casino they limited their conversation, avoiding controversy. First they spoke about the car’s performance. “She runs like a scalded cat,” Zed observed admiringly as they zipped around a dawdling car.
Talal smiled. “You Nevadans have a unique way of expressing yourselves. Quite different from those who live on the East Coast.”
“Yeah, we’re Westerners—a dying breed, I’m afraid.”
“Jaida seems very much a Western woman.”
Zed nodded. “Which reminds me. Do you have any idea why my—our—Adams grandparents had a cradle that apparently came from the Zohir family? Jade slept in it as a baby and they always called it her cradle.”
“I do know, because Grandmother Zohir mentioned the ‘missing cradle’ from time to time. Apparently our father ordered it sent to the States when he realized our mother was going to deliver us in Los Angeles rather than waiting until they returned to Kholi. The cradle took so long to arrive in California that the four of us were back in Kholi before it got there. Evidently the Adamses kept the cradle and, as you say, used it for Jade. You and I never slept in that cradle.”
They drove on in silence until Talal said, “Americans are fond of what they call middle names. Does Jaida have one?”
“Jade Ellen,” Zed told him. “Our mother’s name. Mine is Zed William, after Grandpa Adams. What’s yours?”
“Talal Shane. I often wondered why.”
“Erin must have known your middle name.”
“She could have,” Talal said. “I may have told her. I don’t remember. Why?”
“Because Shane is also Danny’s middle name. Our mother must have chosen Shane for you because of it being Grandma Adams’s maiden name.”
They were nearing the casino, so he pointed it out, telling Talal where the best parking was. Inside, J.J. was nowhere to be seen. Zed led his brother past the rows of brightly lit gaming machines to a small bar tucked away in a corner. In deference to Talal’s bum leg, he indicated a small table flanked by two chairs rather than choosing a bar stool. Other than the bartender and one man sitting at the bar, they were the only patrons.
“Anything special you prefer?” he asked.
“I prefer American to foreign—any brand, draft if possible.”
Zed brought back two foam-topped glasses, sat down across from his brother and said flatly, “I won’t let you take Danny away from Karen, not while he’s a child. Let’s start from there.”
“I’m his father.”
“Granted. No one denies that. But—”
Talal held up his hand. “Permit me to tell you a story. I am a widower. My wife was very carefully chosen for me by my—our—grandfather while I was still a boy and she a girl. Since he was old-fashioned and since I was largely educated in the United States and therefore not home much after I reached my teens, my fiancée and I didn’t meet until shortly before our wedding.”
“I’m surprised Grandfather Zohir permitted you to come to the States.”
“His brother, Kholi’s ruler, decided where I was to go to school. Because I had a talent for languages, he told my grandfather that I was to be groomed as a family liaison between the Zohirs and the U.S. In order to best prepare me to take on this position, he ordered Grandfather to send me to America for my education. In our country, even a brother hesitates to question the ruler’s decree.
“I returned to Kholi after my graduation from Prince-ton and married my chosen bride. She was a pretty girl and, though I was not in love with her, I found the marriage satisfactory. Unfortunately, she became jealous, suspecting me of lusting after every woman I saw.
“When she became pregnant I hoped her unreasonable jealousy would abate, and it did seem to. We got along quite well until near her time to have the child, when she was told by a tattling troublemaker in the family that I had been seen with a beautiful foreign woman who flaunted her body in public places. You understand that, in Kholi, our women still wear the traditional dress and veil when outside the home.”
“So I’ve heard,” Zed said, careful not to sound disapproving. His father might have been an Arab, but Kholi’s culture wasn’t his and he actually knew very little about the country.
“Instead of confronting me with this ridiculous gossip—I had been, by order, escorting the French ambassador’s daughter to various functions—my wife took it to heart. In a frenzy of jealousy she decided to punish me by running off to her Bedouin relatives so the baby wouldn’t be born under my roof. Foolishly, she took no one except her personal attendant with her. My wife, like other Kholi women, had never learned to drive, but her maid, being a Bedouin, knew how to handle the four-wheel-drive van. Neither woman paid any attention to the weather and they were caught in a sandstorm before reaching the Bedouin camp. All three died.”
“Three?” Zed asked, momentarily confused.
Talal took a long swallow of his beer. “My son was born sometime during the storm. He did not survive.”
“My God!” Zed exclaimed. He reached across and briefly gripped his brother’s shoulder in lieu of finding the right words to convey his sympathy.
“That happened three years ago,” Talal said. “I doubt I will ever marry again, though I’ve been pressured by the family to continue the line. Now, suddenly, Allah has provided me with a son I didn’t know I’d sired.” He held Zed’s gaze. “A son you don’t want me to raise.”
What a hell of a dilemma, Zed thought, his heart going out to his brother. Talal needs Danny—but so does Karen. After weighing all the considerations, he finished his beer, setting the glass down with a clunk. “The important one in this is Danny himself,” he observed. “We need to decide what’s best for him.”
Talal didn’t respond immediately. The bartender walked over and set two more glasses of beer in front of them. “On J.J.,” he said, picking up the empty glasses.
“Tell him thanks,” Zed responded.
Talal turned his glass slowly around, looking at the head of foam instead of at Zed. For the first time Zed noticed that he used his right hand, not his left, and he commented on it, mentioning that he was a lefty.
“Yes, I’m right-handed,” Talal agreed. “I’ve heard it’s often that way with twins—one right and one left.” He took a swallow of beer and finally looked at Zed.
“I never forgot you,” he said so softly Zed had to strain to hear him. “No matter what they told me, I knew Zeid existed. What I believe is that, though
I can’t recall it, I saw our mother take you away, leaving me behind.”
Zed related the only memory he had, of the red ball and the yellow ball and a boy jeering that he was only half.
“I remember the balls, but I don’t recall the incident,” Talal said. “The boy was probably Malik. He’s several years older than we are. That must have been about the time his father took him into the desert to be raised for the next five years by his Bedouin relatives. You might call it returning to his roots. As I’d like to do with Danny.”
“He’s still a baby—he needs his mother. To Danny, his mother is Karen.”
“I can see that is true. She seems to be a much different type of woman than Erin. Her cousin, you said?”
Zed nodded. “Karen is a wonderful mother. She’s wonderful, period.”
“Our sister said you and Karen had set a wedding date.” Talal’s smile held a hint of sadness. “Yours is obviously a love match.”
Zed shrugged. “She’s marrying me so Danny will have a father figure in his life.”
Talal frowned. “But you love her?”
“Can’t help myself.” Zed smiled wryly. “You’ve heard of fool’s gold—pyrite? It glitters and shines and the unwary believe they’ve found a fortune. Gold gleams, too, but it’s the real thing. I never knew Erin, but that’s how I perceive the two of them—Erin as pyrite and Karen as true gold.”
“I’m ashamed to say I scarcely remember Erin, though I know we had fun sailing together. She was no more than a passing fling. I was certain I was the same to her.”
“From what Karen has told me,” Zed said, “you’re probably right about Erin’s feelings for you. A passing fling about sums it up.”
“Yet she bore my son, and for that I’m eternally grateful to her. Allah chooses odd pathways to reward us. You must know I can never give.up Danny. He is my son. But you’ve opened my eyes to the other issues at stake. Grant me a few days to think about what is right for all of us—for you and me, for Danny and for Karen.”
When they left the casino, both stood for a moment blinking in the bright sunlight, then they walked to Talal’s car, Zed slowing his pace to match his brother’s.
“Your ankle and leg healing okay?” he asked.
Talal nodded. “The doctors say the worst possible complication may be a slight permanent limp. My poor Maddamti is a total loss, though. I was very fond of her.”
“I’ll have to take you out on my sailboat. You ever been on Tahoe?”
“The lake in the Sierras? No, I haven’t.”
“That’s where we’ll go as soon as the weather warms up.” His enthusiasm abated as he remembered Talal might not be here that long. “Brother,” he said, testing the word. “I can’t get used to having a twin brother.” He clamped a hand on Talal’s shoulder. “I hardly know you and yet I know you well.”
“In Kholi, brother, men are not afraid to show affection for one another.” He put his arms around Zed, hugging him.
Zed stiffened for an instant, then hugged Talal in return, the gesture warming his heart. When they broke apart he found himself blinking back tears.
“As I told you once before, Allah took one and split it in two. We are, as Malik once taunted you, each half of a whole. We know each other in a way no one else will ever understand. Believe me when I say I will work something out with Danny that we both can live with. We and your Karen, too. Maybe even our sister—what a feisty one she is. Zohir women are notoriously hard to handle.”
After Talal dropped him off at the ranch and drove away, Zed walked slowly toward the house, his mind in a turmoil, his loyalties stretched in too many different directions. Neither Karen nor Jade would understand his feelings, because they viewed Talal as the enemy.
They were wrong. Talal needed Danny and he also had a right to him. In a way, he was on Talal’s side because he felt what Talal must be feeling. And yet he knew that if he had to, he’d fight his newfound twin to keep Danny with Karen, fight him to the bitter end.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning Zed rose early and put on his sweatpants in deference to Karen—he would avoid running around naked at least until they were married. If the wedding was still on. From the cool reception he’d gotten from her on his return from Lucky Joe’s, he wasn’t sure.
He was pouring his first cup of coffee when she shouted at him. “Zed! Come here quick!”
Alarmed, he raced into the hall, calling, “Where are you?”
“In Danny’s room.”
He dashed into the nursery and stopped short, Danny, on his hands and knees on the floor, inched slowly ahead.
“He’s actually crawling!” Karen exclaimed. “I put him down to strip off the damp crib sheets and away he went, just as though he’d been doing it all his life.”
Zed gazed down at the boy, who was so intent on perfecting his newfound skill that he paid no attention to either of them. He grinned at Karen and she smiled back at him, momentarily united as they shared their pleasure at this milestone in Danny’s life.
“I predict we’re really in for trouble now that he’s mobile,” Zed remarked.
Karen’s smile faded. “What if we never get to see him take his first step? We won’t if Talal has his way.”
“Talal’s not a monster,” Zed declared. “Give him some time to think things through.”
Karen frowned. “Sometimes I almost believe you’re on his side. He may look like you, but that doesn’t mean he thinks or acts like you. He’s already told us exactly what he intends to do—take Danny to Khoii.”
“If he holds to that,” Zed observed, “the legal process will take time, giving us a chance to counter his move.”
“Unless he decides to bypass legalities and kidnap Danny.”
Zed scowled at her. “Talal would never do such a thing!”
“How do you know?” Karen cried. “Twin brother or not, you’ve barely met the man.”
“I know because he is my twin. He’s me, or almost.”
Karen shook her head. “I can’t buy that.”
Danny reached the rocker and stopped, seeming to ponder his next move. He turned his head and looked at Zed. “Dada!” he ordered.
“You don’t suppose he expects me to move the rocker, do you?” Zed asked, relieved at the distraction. Arguing with Karen about Talal got him nowhere.
“I’d say at the very least he’s counting on you to solve the problem,” she said.
“Okay, Tiger, here goes.” Zed dropped to his hands and knees beside Danny. “You’ve got to learn to go around things,” he told the boy. “You can’t always count on someone to move obstacles for you. If you can’t go around, retreat isn’t necessarily failure. And there’s always the possibility you can change negative into positive. We’ll start with going around.”
As Karen watched Zed slowly maneuvering on his hands and knees, obviously hoping Danny would imitate his movements and turn, her annoyance faded. How. could she stay mad at a man who loved Danny so much? She didn’t understand how he could be so blind where his twin was concerned, though—didn’t he recognize the threat posed by Talal? Arguing about it didn’t help. She was wasting her breath; she might as well let it go. At least for the moment.
Danny seemed to enjoy Zed’s performance but didn’t copy the crawling turn, even after several demonstrations. Finally Zed turned toward the rocker, easing up onto his knees. Lifting and supporting Danny, he stood him on his feet and placed Danny’s hands on the rocker seat. “Positive, not negative, right?” he said, gradually removing his support until Danny stood by himself, holding on to the rocker.
Danny’s stance didn’t last long; he plopped down onto his butt and positioned himself on his hands and knees, now facing Karen, and began to crawl again.
“Way to go, Tiger,” Zed said, standing and hitching up his sweats. “Never give up until you try all the alternatives.”
Marring Karen’s enjoyment of the interaction between the two of them and her pleasure at Danny’
s new skill was her fear of what Talal meant to do. Why hadn’t she left well enough alone? Why had she ever begun the search for Danny’s father to begin with? If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t be facing the threat of losing the boy.
Of course, she wouldn’t have met Zed, either, wouldn’t have discovered the joy of loving. Or the pain.
Jade came by in the early afternoon, still simmering over what she referred to as Talal’s “attitude.” Pacing up and down in the living room, she waved her hands in the air as she raved on. “Who does he think he is, anyway? Dropping in from nowhere and behaving like he possesses some divine right.”
“Maybe it comes from being a prince in his country,” Zed observed mildly.
Jade nodded. “Good point. Princes have power and power always corrupts.” She fixed her gaze on Zed. “You did little, brother mine, to help matters by roaring off to Lucky Joe’s with him. Talk about fraternizing with the enemy.”
“He’s our long-lost brother, sis.”
“Relatives make the worst kind of enemies,” Jade said. “I wish he’d stayed lost.”
“We all do,” Karen put in.
Zed shook his head. “I don’t agree. Through Talal, Jade and I discovered who our father was and learned about the deceit both sets of grandparents practiced through fear. Danny will grow up knowing who his father is—more important than you can imagine.”
“If Danny had to pick,” Jade said, “I’m sure he’d choose you as his father rather than Talal. Didn’t you notice how he stared at Talal yesterday?”
“Rather than being afraid of him, I think he was puzzled because Talal and I look alike,” Zed answered.
Karen, who was gazing out the window, said, “Speak of the devil.”
Zed heard the engine and glanced to the window in time to see Talal’s red car pull to a stop in front of the house. As he strode from the room to open the door, he heard Jade mutter, “Enter the villain.”
Standing in the open doorway watching Talal lurch toward the house on his walking cast, Zed couldn’t help but wonder how different both his life and Talal’s might have been if they’d known, as they grew up, of each other’s existence.