by Steph Cha
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The man responsible for Kizil’s murder came to warn me off.” When she didn’t jump out of her seat, I added, “He came here.”
“Here? To this house?”
I nodded.
She scooted her chair away from Lusig. “And you were hoping to hide this from me?”
Hot tears spilled out of Lusig’s eyes.
“No. This is too much,” said Rubina. “This is over, do you understand? I want Nora found, but this child comes first.”
Lusig moaned. “No, no. It can’t be over. I won’t let it be over.”
Rubina rose, her whole body alive with fury. She started shouting. “If you want to martyr yourself, go right ahead. But not until you can leave my child out of it!” Her words resolved into a sudden loaded silence that filled the whole room, with Lusig at its center, no longer speaking or crying, her face pained and tense. Then, as we watched, she doubled over, breathing hard.
Rubina knelt in front of her and grabbed her face. “What’s wrong?” she shouted.
I got up and put a hand on Lusig’s back. It came away wet with sweat.
She grabbed at Rubina’s shoulders and told her, wheezing with effort: “He’s coming.”
Rubina shook her head. “No. It’s impossible. This would be three weeks early. You’re bluffing. You’re trying to punish me.”
“Get me to the hospital,” Lusig said. “He’s here.”
*
As it turned out, Lusig was not bluffing. Rubina’s fear had come true—Lusig’s stress had impacted her pregnancy, causing her water to break during her thirty-fifth week.
And like that, the concerns of death gave way to the urgent, gushing demands of life. Rubina and I loaded Lusig into my backseat, and I drove us to Kaiser Permanente, Lusig roaring at every stoplight.
Alex Gasparian was born seventeen hours later, on the morning of March 22, healthy and weighing six pounds and one ounce. Lusig stayed in the hospital for two days, and though Rubina told me I was welcome to stay as long as I needed, I moved quietly out of the Gasparian house.
Instead of subletting the apartment, Lori had offered it up for short-term rentals, collecting hotel rates without locking in tenants for the entire month. I was grateful; there were two sets of visitors lined up for the next week, but I wouldn’t be stranded for longer than that. Rob and I went on a date that didn’t involve genocide denial, as a result of which we got to know each other better. He offered to let me crash until I could move back into my place, and I split my time between him and Lori. I didn’t like the feeling of floating between homes, but this, at least, felt like a shift back toward my own life.
Thirteen
When I walked into the office that Monday, Chaz and Arturo both peeked out of their offices, expecting to see a prospective client.
Chaz gave me a sympathetic smirk. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “They killed each other.”
I shook my head.
“You got fired,” guessed Arturo.
“Neither. She had the baby early,” I said, before the guesses could get more insulting. “If you guys have time, I’ll update you. It’s a pretty long story.”
We gathered in Chaz’s office and I told them the whole thing, top to bottom.
“I haven’t heard shit from Lusig since she had the baby,” I said. “And as far as Rubina’s concerned, my job is done.”
Arturo got up from his chair and patted me on the back. “You did good. It was a tough job,” he said. “I’ll leave the counseling to Chaz.”
He closed the door on his way out.
“I don’t know,” I said, grateful to Arturo. “It doesn’t feel right.”
Chaz chuckled. “Of course it doesn’t. Kizil didn’t record a confession for you before he died.”
“I’m not at all positive that’s even the right story,” I said. “I feel like I did all this work, figured all this shit out, and for what? An educated guess?”
“Some cases aren’t solvable,” he said. “It doesn’t mean you didn’t do the best you could.”
“Lusig thinks I failed her.”
“Then let her see if she can do any better. She’s got her body back.”
“I don’t know, Chaz. I feel terrible.”
He sighed. “If you can’t handle uncertainty, you’re in the wrong business, I can tell you that.”
*
I landed an easy case that afternoon, and by Friday, I moved back into my apartment in Echo Park, feeling the old rhythms, when I got a call from Lusig.
“What’re you doing tonight?” she asked by way of greeting.
“I’m supposed to watch a movie with Rob. How have you been?”
“Cancel,” she said, ignoring my question. “Let’s go out tonight. I want to get wasted.” She paused, then added, “You owe me that much.”
We arranged to meet at my place at ten and pre-game before cabbing to a club downtown. Lusig showed up wearing a blousy black dress that cut off mid-thigh and a black leather jacket on top.
“You look good,” I said.
“I know. This is the best I’ve looked in, like, a year. What’re you wearing?”
“I don’t know. Want to help?”
I gave her free rein to rummage through my drawers and brought two beers from the kitchen. She took a thirsty sip, and smacked her lips with an appreciative sound.
“Take it easy,” I said. “You’re probably a lightweight now. Did you eat a good dinner?”
“I’ve been eating nothing but salami and sushi since I got out.” She spoke of pregnancy like ex-cons spoke of prison. “Cheers.”
“I thought you were pissed at me,” I said clinking my bottle against hers. “I was glad to hear from you.”
“I was pissed. But I also kind of missed you.” She blushed and took a swig of beer to cover it.
“I’m sorry about that day,” I said. “I know you felt like I abandoned you, but I really didn’t have any choice.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“Are you going to look for her?”
“Yup.”
“I’ll help,” I said. “I can’t do it 24/7 anymore, but I’ll do what I can.”
“It’s okay. I think I’ve got your method down anyway.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You just ask questions and hope no one tries to kill you.”
I laughed, though I wasn’t sure she was joking. “So how’ve you been? Did you move out of that house?”
“Yup. Out of my cousin’s, back into my dad’s. I should probably look for employment at some point.”
“Have you been seeing Rubina at all?”
“Yeah, I gave in and said I’d pump milk for her, so she picks it up and takes it to the hospital. She acts like it’s the least I can do, and she’s probably right. I’ve been by to see Alex, too.”
“How is he?”
“He’s still in the hospital, which is standard for preemies. He’s healthy, despite everything.”
“And how’s Rubina?”
“She’s neurotically watchful, can’t help herself, but mostly she’s just smitten to pieces in love. My great nightmare is pretty much over.” She went back to rifling through my clothes, dismissing almost everything with a flap of her hand. “Where’s your slutty stuff?”
I smiled. “I don’t know, in my early twenties?”
“You didn’t keep any of it?”
“Your dress isn’t slutty.”
“I still have preggo body. And anyway, sure it is. It’s not tight, but if you look close you can almost see where the baby came out.” She flicked her hem and gave me a flash of underwear.
I laughed. “Okay, I guess that’s convincing.”
She pulled out a tight black dress with a fake leather panel down the front. “Oh, hey, you did keep one.”
I got dressed and put on makeup while Lusig chugged beer and chanted “more eyeliner” over my shoulder. I called a cab and we got through another round of
beer while we waited.
“Let’s fill your flask before we go.”
“How do you know I have a flask?”
She shrugged. “You’ve spent your life perfecting this old-school gumshoe shtick. I’m almost positive you have a flask. You were probably born with one glued to your naked baby hip.”
I found my flask in a kitchen drawer. “I don’t use it as much as I thought I would, though. It’s a pain in the ass to clean. Rye okay?”
“Whatever you feel like, you fucking alcoholic.”
The cab came after I topped off the flask, and we went down to meet it. The driver was a middle-aged Korean man, and Lusig made multiple attempts to engage him in conversation. He smiled and responded politely in hesitant English, and seemed relieved when we made it to the club downtown. We paid the fare and stumbled out of the cab, Lusig clutching on to my arm.
The Mayan was an old theater that served as a nightclub on weekends. Downtown had gentrified with enormous speed in the last several years, but The Mayan was at the outermost edge, still a little bit dicey after dark. Last I’d heard anyone talk of The Mayan, it was because someone had been stabbed right outside. There was a metal detector on the way in, and we had the privilege of walking through it after forking over a $20 cover.
The detector beeped angrily when I tried to pass, and I groaned as I remembered the flask.
“Please don’t take it from her,” Lusig pleaded. “It belonged to her dead grandmother.”
I pictured my maternal grandmother watching her Korean period dramas on VHS with a flask in her hand. I had to stifle a laugh. Miraculously, we were let through.
The club was loud and crowded, the dance floor crammed with bodies. Lusig dragged me to the bar, where she ordered two blue drinks that smelled like nail polish.
“I am too old for this shit,” I said, wrinkling my nose at my plastic glass. “I think it’s actually glittering.”
“Oh shut up, Song,” she said, slinging an arm around my neck. “You’re not above this.”
“Fine,” I said, taking a long, horrible gulp. I knew she was right.
We downed them quickly and ordered another round. She drank with determination, and I could see her loosening with every sip. Her tolerance must have taken a big hit during her months of patrolled abstinence.
“Rob didn’t mind you canceling?” she asked.
“No. It was fine. We’ve been seeing each other plenty.”
“So, things are going well?”
“Yeah, I like him.”
“He’s a cutie. Is he good in bed?”
I laughed and took a sip of my blue drink, which was tasting more tolerable by the minute.
She pointed at my chest with exaggerated force. “Answer my question! I command you!”
“I wouldn’t know.”
She gasped. “You’re lying.”
I laughed, and the bubbly sound of it told me I was well on my way to drunk. “Yeah, I’m lying. He’s good. A+, would bang again.”
“Do trumpets play? Does the earth move?”
“No,” I said. “You’re thinking of the apocalypse.”
She led me to the dance floor, where lights strobed blue and gold across hundreds of sweat-dampened faces. We finished our drinks and held the glasses loose in our hands.
“Van’s kind of hot, isn’t he?” she shouted.
“I know what you mean. He’s not movie-star hot, but he has a look. Strong arms, dark eyes, a little stern.”
“Yeah, like he’s a man, you know?” She flexed her forearms and crunched hard on the word. “He has that lantern jaw. And, actually, it’s not even the arms, it’s the hands. He has these compelling hands.”
“Sure,” I said, turning my head at her. “Compelling.”
“You’d fuck him, wouldn’t you?”
I laughed. “Jesus, we’re having this conversation?”
“Fuck, marry, or kill?”
“That’s not how that game works.”
“Fuck! Marry! Or kill!” She flung her fists up and down as she danced.
“Okay, given those options? Fuck.”
“I knew it!” She squealed triumphantly, throwing her head back. Then she stopped dancing, standing still in the writhing crowd, and looked at me with sudden purpose. Her lips moved. She’d said something at normal volume.
“What?” I asked.
She shouted in my ear, vying against the music: “He’s mine.”
I felt her words fly at me with the velocity and danger of a penny free-falling off a skyscraper. They landed with a vicious ping in the middle of my head.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, but I already knew.
She bit her lip and watched my eyes, and when I returned her gaze with the intensity of understanding, she nodded back at me slowly, like a teacher encouraging a child on the right path.
I wasn’t dancing anymore, and neither was she. Without a word, we left The Mayan and stood on the sidewalk outside. It was still busy with people coming in and out of the club, but I could tell right away that my ears had been plugged from the music and noise inside. The newer quiet rang between them.
I lit a cigarette and offered one to Lusig. She took it with gratitude.
“Lusig,” I said, after a long drag. “Are you telling me Alex is your child?”
She covered her face in both hands and swayed, the tip of her cigarette sending a ribbon of smoke tracing above her head. “God, I must be drunk.”
“No shit, you’re drunk. What did you think would happen if you mixed every alcohol after nine months off?”
She groaned.
“Lusig, did you invite me out tonight so you could get this off your chest?”
She opened her fingers like blinds and peeked at me with a caught expression in her eyes. “Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know.”
“You’re not still sleeping with him,” I said, exploring.
“No, God no.”
“Why did you sleep with him in the first place?”
She took a greedy drag on her cigarette. “To get pregnant. To let Van and Ruby have their baby.”
“Isn’t that what the IVF was for?”
She nodded then shook her head, nodded then shook her head. The motion set her off balance. I grabbed her arm so she wouldn’t tip over. “It was insurance,” she said.
“What do you mean, insurance?”
“IVF has an iffy success rate. Less than fifty percent.”
“So, what, you guys decided to open another avenue of attack?”
She nodded.
I held my head, trying to get a grasp on that logic. It was too much for me in my present state. “Why?”
“Ruby would’ve been devastated if it didn’t take.”
“But she knew, right? She knew it might not work?”
“Yeah, she knew.”
“So failure was always a possible outcome, even a likely one, for the first try at least, right? And I’m guessing money wasn’t really an object?”
She kept nodding. “It’s expensive, but you’re right. They were prepared to do it more than once.”
“So, what happened? I assume Rubina wasn’t in on this back-up strategy.”
She shook her head. “Van and I decided on our own.”
“What do you mean ‘decided’? Was this a strategic e-mail chain?”
She looked at me with a trace of misery, and I wondered if she regretted telling me.
I softened. Lusig was my friend and she was trying to confide in me. “Just tell me how it happened.”
“Van and I were never close before this whole surrogacy arrangement. To be honest, when Ruby got engaged to him, I didn’t like him at all. I thought he was stodgy and stern. Too smart, kind of arrogant, not weird enough, just this somberly handsome doctor, you know?”
I reviewed my initial reaction to Van and decided it had lined up with this image. “And then?”
“We were thrown together by this baby madness. You get it. You lived in that disaster z
one, too. It was crazy, and it was uncomfortable, but it was also intensely intimate. We were talking about cycles, eggs, the nitty-gritty of human reproduction, at a real TMI level. But it wasn’t just that, either. Ruby already knew me, but Van and I had to fall into each other. Ruby encouraged this, obviously, because we were going to be in each other’s lives now. I was going to play this huge role in their marriage, in their child’s life. Van had to know me. He had to study me. And the whole time, I could feel it. The way he was learning me, like no one else had really bothered before.”
“You fell in love with him.”
“Not exactly, no. But I did fantasize about him. I felt so close to him, and we’d never so much as hugged in a nonfamilial way. I started to wonder about his body, what he kissed like, how he moved in the dark.”
It had been a while since I’d nursed a fixation. I’d spent most of my adult life getting laid when I felt like it, whenever convenience and desire aligned. I hadn’t suffered an infatuation since high school, not the kind that smoldered with no way to quench or snuff it out. But I sympathized with Lusig, I recognized the truth and aching in what she’d said. It was a curiosity that demanded satisfaction, that could only be addressed with knowledge.
“I swear I wasn’t planning anything. I didn’t try to seduce him,” she said. “One day, Van got off work before Ruby, and he asked what I was doing. My dad was out, so I told him I was bored at home, and he said he’d stop by.”
“Had that ever happened before?”
“Him coming over alone?”
“Yeah.”
“No, it hadn’t.”
“Then did you know right away what was going to happen?”
She shook her head vehemently and I reached out a hand to stop her from tipping into the street. “I swear on my life, I didn’t.”
“Really?”
“It felt so natural. We were close, you know? And we had Rubina in common, and the baby soon, so why would it be weird for us to be in a room together?”
“Oh, I don’t know, because you wanted to sleep with him?”
“Okay, I may have overstated that.”
“You didn’t fantasize about fucking him?”
“I did, but that was just part of the big picture. Also, I’m telling you I was attracted to him now, in retrospect. But before anything happened it all felt very unreal and far away.”