Aza’s phone chirps. “It’s Kristen,” she says and replies to the text message.
A few seconds later Kristen thunders down the stairs, bursts into the kitchen, and announces, “These are the best muffins I’ve ever made.”
“Can I have?” Adam asks. Mia Grace signals her want.
“Oops,” Kristen says. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “Give me one.” I cut it in half and then again, giving each of the kids a quarter. “They’ll still eat their eggs. Won’t you, sweeties?” Adam wrinkles his nose. He’s recently developed an aversion to sweet talk.
Kristen pours herself a cup of tea and sits beside me at the table. She angles toward me, away from her mother, and speaks just above a whisper. “Could you take me to the mall this morning?”
Aza hears anyway. “What do you need to shop for?”
Kristen rolls her eyes. “Dad sent me some money for clothes.”
“I’ll take you,” Aza says.
“Thanks, Mom, but Renee gets my style.”
Jalal puts his arm around Aza’s shoulders. “I believe she just called you old.”
“Then she just called you older.”
Ah, breakfast at the Vaziris. What better way to start the day?
Damn, the girl can shop. I do believe Kristen tries on every style of jeans in the mall—twice. She talks non-stop, with frequent reminders to convince Aza to buy her a car. It’s hard to keep from hinting she might be getting the one she wants. We end our shopping spree with a trip through the food court, where I give no thought to fat, sodium, or calorie counts. All in all, a fun morning.
When we get back to the house, though Kristen knows her mother is probably still in the house with Jalal, she heads straight up to their apartment. To call Brittany, she says. To hide a couple of the edgier band tees she bought, I think. I set my bags on the kitchen counter before I realize I can hear Jalal and Aza, apparently putting the kids down for their naps, talking over the monitor.
“… to tell her, Aza.”
“You’re going to blindside her?”
“No. When the time is right—”
“That’s now, Jalal. If you’ve already decided to do this, she should know as soon as possible.”
“I disagree.” His voice softens as he speaks to Mia Grace, “Sleep tight, sweet baby” and then hardens again, “and it is not your place to—” The nursery door closing cuts off Jalal’s voice.
I run out the back door and vomit my lunch. Oh god. The happy family that sat around the table this morning is a lie. Jalal’s decided to leave me. Oh, God, how am I going to pretend I didn’t hear them? I grab the hose and wash the mess off the flagstones and under the shrubbery. When the door opens behind me, I turn the spray on my shoes.
“What are you doing?” Jalal asks.
“My shoes … chocolate. I must have stepped in some at the mall.”
“You could have washed them off in the laundry sink.”
“Oh … yeah.” I can’t face him yet, so I take off my shoes and carry them over to the door that leads into the laundry room. I nearly collapse with relief when he doesn’t follow. I’ll take the kids to Bahía. I need time to figure out what I’m going to do. Oh, God, the kids. This is not fair to them. Damn him. Fuck him. Don’t cry. Don’t. I am.
Jalal and Aza’s voices are audible through the kitchen door. I can’t go in there like this. Kristen’s emptying the dishwasher when I walk into their apartment. “What’s wrong?” she says. “What’s happened?”
I shake my head and grab a paper napkin off the counter to wipe my eyes. “Don’t say anything about this to your mother—or anyone. Please.” She nods. I blow my nose and force myself to stop crying. “I can’t explain right now. Okay?” She nods again and I lean over the sink to splash water on my face. I take three deep breaths. “How messed up is my makeup?”
“You can touch it up in my bathroom.”
After I look presentable again, I go back down to our kitchen. I go straight to the fridge, grab a Coke, and drink half of it before I turn to face Jalal and Aza.
“Is Kristen upstairs?” she asks.
I nod. If I asked Aza, would she tell me the truth about Jalal?
He points to the bags I left on the counter. “How much of my money did you spend?”
He’s smiling, but I can’t. “Your money?”
His eyes widen. “Our money.”
“I have a headache,” I tell him. “I’m going to lie down while the kids are asleep.”
Jalal touches my back when I pass him. My skin crawls. “Are you all right?” he says.
I nod, but I want to scream. I want to rip his face off. Keep it together. Keep it together. It’s my mantra all the way up the stairs.
Seventeen
I wake with a headache and a sensation of weighing fifty pounds more than yesterday. Jalal is a familiar weight next to me, but I can’t even look at him. I made it through yesterday, going through the motions, pretending it was life as usual, because I was in shock. That’s worn off now. I have to face facts. Thirty-six hours ago, after he’d already decided to leave, he made love to me on this bed. How could he do that? Stupid. Men do it all the time. Men have done it to me again and again. I just hoped he never would.
That’s what he was going to tell me when he said he’d misled himself, and then he backed down. Coward. Now he’s decided to tell me “when the time is right.” When is that? Two seconds after I confront him with evidence of his cheating or two seconds before he tells me he wants a divorce?
Oh god. He couldn’t have cheated. He wouldn’t. He didn’t.
He did.
And why isn’t it Aza’s place to tell me? Her brother’s having an affair with her best friend and she’s going to turn her head? Oh, of course she is. The whole family has always babied Jalal. They’ll excuse him for this too. If I called Jason and Ryan, they’d cover for him. They’d say they were having dinner with him while he was really off somewhere with Diane. And what about Hank and Judith? They all know the truth. They’re all two-faced. None of them will stand up for me.
I’m on my own.
No. I’m not. I have two children depending on me. As much as possible, I have to do what’s best for them. I’m not free to run like I used to. As if on cue, Mia Grace starts babbling in her crib. I slip out of bed, trying not to wake Jalal.
Mia Grace greets me with her sunshine smile, which even my leaden heart can’t ignore. I lift her from the crib to hug her, but she tries to slide down me to the floor. I manage to hold on to her and switch off the monitor before she howls and wakes Jalal. What if he had done that yesterday? I would still be ignorant of his betrayal. Falsely happy. I whisper into her hair, “Oh, sweet baby, what are we going to do?”
My attempts to keep Jalal and Adam asleep were useless. By the time I get her diaper changed and dress her, Jalal is standing in the doorway with Adam in his arms. “Good morning,” they chorus. I smile at Adam and return his greeting. Mia Grace practically throws herself off the changing table reaching for Jalal.
“I’m going to take the kids to visit Jennie today,” I tell him.
“Yay,” Adam cries.
“I thought you were sick,” Jalal says.
“What?”
“When you woke from your nap yesterday, you said you must be coming down with a virus.”
“Oh. False alarm.”
“Good. I have nothing planned tomorrow,” he says. “Do you want to wait, so we can all go? We could stay a few days?”
“No. I already promised her we would come today.”
He nods, but hurt dulls his eyes. “Tell Jennie and Eduardo hello for me.”
I feel a twinge of regret but shove it away. Why should I care about his hurt feelings? Jalal takes the kids downstairs to feed them breakfast while I shower. After I’m dressed, I grab the largest tote I own and start packing. I catch my reflection in the closet mirror and face it. The fairy tale is over, Renee. The dream has ended. Wake up. I go dow
n the stairway that leads to the laundry room and slip into the garage to hide the tote in my car.
“Why are you coming from that direction?” Jalal asks when I walk into the kitchen.
“I was checking on the shoes I washed off yesterday.” I pour a cup of coffee but stand at the counter to drink it.
“Aren’t you eating anything?” he asks.
“I’m not hungry.”
“At least have—”
“I said I’m not hungry.” That came out harsher than I meant it to. I’m not going to argue in front of the kids. I don’t have to look directly at him to see Jalal studying me. He runs his fingers back through his hair. Crap. He’s not going to let this go.
“Are you angry at me for the money thing?”
“The what?”
“For saying ‘my money’ yesterday.”
What the hell, let’s go with that. “Well, it is your money, isn’t it?”
“If you want to get technical, most of it is Meredith’s money.”
“You married her.”
“And you married me.”
Damn. “Touché. You win.” I set down my cup, wet a paper towel and carry it to the table. “Finish up, Adam. Let’s go see Granny.”
“He needs to get dressed first, Renee.”
I hadn’t even noticed he was still in his pajamas. “Go dress him while I clean her up.” Jalal exhales sharply and drops his fork on his half-full plate, which I assume is to call attention to the sacrifice I’ve asked him to make. I stare him in the eye until he scoots his chair back and picks up Adam. While they’re upstairs, I wipe Mia Grace’s hands and face, gather up our coats and hats, and then drop into the chair next to her highchair. I close my eyes. Just keep it together a few more minutes.
Adam comes down carrying Floppy Bear, his bed buddy, which I didn’t think to pack. I don’t ask why Adam has it, but now I wonder if Jalal read my mind or just suspects I’m not coming back tonight. I lift Mia Grace from her chair and reach for Adam’s hand, but Jalal’s quicker.
“Come on, little man,” he says and leads Adam toward the door.
Oh crap. He’ll see the bag in the car. I grab my purse and hurry after them. We’re facing each other as we buckle the kids in on opposite sides of the back seat. He didn’t seem to notice the tote before I threw our coats over it, so I’m breathing easier, but when he comes around to my side he grabs my arm to prevent me from getting in the car. I refuse to look at him.
He leans closer and says quietly, “Call me tonight and tell me why you are doing this. Please.”
I can’t promise him that, so I say nothing.
“I love you,” he says and lets go of my arm.
“Define love,” I say. Then I climb into my seat and shut the door on him before he can answer.
Jennie and Eduardo are happy to see us, of course, though it’s immediately obvious she suspects this is not an ordinary visit. I’m smiling and chatting as usual, but she’s questioning me with her eyes. I give up the pretense. When Adam asks for more ice cream, I just nod. I can’t stand watching Jennie work while I sit, so I tie on an apron and tell her to sit with the kids. Working feels good. It’s normal. It’s what I know how to do. I don’t know how to be married.
Eduardo sends Jennie home after the lunch crowd leaves. I drive and let her know right away I don’t want any serious talk in front of the kids. Though it’s only a two-minute drive to Jennie’s house, Adam is nodding off by the time we get there. Jennie tucks him in for his nap while I sit down to nurse Mia Grace. Five minutes later, I lay her in the crib.
Jennie’s sitting at the kitchen table with two open Cokes. When I sit down, she slides a can across the table to me. “What’s up?” she says.
“Jalal’s having an affair.”
“Bullshit.”
How stupid of me to think Jennie wouldn’t defend Jalal. They were friends long before she met me. “I know you don’t want to believe—”
“And if you think he’s having an affair with that Diane, double bullshit.”
Her mouth is a thin red slash as though she’s angry at me for even suggesting Jalal would cheat, but the look in her eyes says something else. She fears I’m right.
“You know I’ve had suspicions for a while, but yesterday I overheard him and Aza talking and-”
“No.” She shakes her head and the fear fades from her eyes. “Are you saying his sister knows he’s having an affair?”
“Diane is her friend.”
“And that’s exactly why I don’t believe it. Aza is your friend too. She loves you and the kids. Not only would she not keep quiet about this, she’d kick Diane to the curb and smack Jalal silly.”
“She’s Jalal’s sister—his kharar-jan. Those two are closer than anyone in his family, and that’s saying something.”
Jennie reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Honey, if Aza has betrayed you like that, you have every reason to be bitter, but I just don’t believe she has. Start at the beginning. What do you mean, you overheard them?”
“I came in from shopping and they were upstairs in the nursery. I heard them over the monitor. Perfectly clear.”
“What did you hear?”
“Aza was arguing with Jalal about him keeping this a secret from me. She said he should tell me now.”
“She told him he should let you know he’s having an affair?”
“Yes, she said he shouldn’t blindside me.”
“She used the word affair?”
“No, but it was obvious—”
“What word did she use?”
I sigh and gaze at the ceiling as I try to replay the conversation in my head. “She said something like ‘if you’ve decided to do this, you should tell her now.’”
Jennie lets go of my hand and sits back in her chair. “Did either of them mention Diane?”
“Not by name. Why? Do you think it’s some other woman?”
“I don’t think it’s any woman. Jalal could be making a decision about any number of things. Maybe he’s buying a new car or something. Maybe he’s decided to shave his head.” She smiles. “And in that case, I agree with Aza, he should discuss that with you first.”
I close my eyes. Jennie wasn’t there. I can’t make her understand.
“Renee, look at me.” I open my eyes, and she continues. “Didn’t we have a similar conversation in September?”
“Oh my god, he was cheating then, and I convinced myself I was just imagining things.”
Jennie mimes pulling out her hair. “Listen to me. I don’t believe Jalal was having an affair then or now. What we talked about then was why you weren’t fighting back. If my Renee really believed Jalal was even thinking about cheating she would have knocked him into next week.”
Jennie waits for me to explain myself, but I can’t.
“What’s the real problem here, Renee?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She gives me one of Jalal’s soul-searching looks. “Maybe you don’t want to fight for him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Listen to me. After you put those babies to bed tonight, you’d better think long and hard about what you want before you make a terrible mistake.”
After their baths, I call Jalal so he can say goodnight to the kids. When Adam hands the phone back to me, I just hang up. Mia Grace doesn’t understand the phone thing and fusses for her Baba when I try to nurse her. Adam pouts because the book he wants me to read is not here. He points to my phone and says, “Tell Baba Daddy bring it.”
“He can’t. Let’s just read this book.” When he grabs it and throws it across the room, I glare at him. “We don’t throw books, Adam. Get in your bed right this instant. No story tonight.” I’ve never shouted at him like that. Mia Grace pulled away from the breast, and now they’re both crying. Adam throws himself on his bed and pulls the covers over his face. He pleads for Jalal to come get him. I sit down beside Adam, hugging Mia Grace to me and rocking to sooth us both. “I
’m sorry for shouting, Adam. Mama did a bad thing. I’m sorry. Please, don’t cry. Mama’s sorry. Don’t cry.”
I don’t realize Adam has emerged and is sitting up until he pats my hand. “Okay, Mama. You be okay. No cry.” He gets to his knees and hugs me and Mia Grace.
I cover his face with kisses until he squirms out of my grasp. Mia Grace claps her hands. We’re all smiling now.
“Story?” Adam asks. I nod and he retrieves the thrown book. He lies back down and I lay Mia Grace beside him. I stretch out on the edge of the bed alongside them and open the book. By the end of the second read, they’re both asleep. I marvel how quickly children cycle through emotions and then let them go. I have no hope sleep will come to me so easily tonight. Gently, I lift Mia Grace and move her to the crib. Before I leave the room, I turn up the monitor volume.
Five minutes later, I’m wrapped in a quilt, sitting on the porch swing, drinking wine. I never cared much for wine until I met Jalal. None of the men I’d been with before drank it, though they drank plenty. None of those men were anything like Jalal. None of them loved me. Without warning, my heart sets loose a wail and tears gush like blood, weakening me, curling me into a ball.
Sometime later, I wake from a tortured sleep, cold and disoriented. I stumble into the house and collapse on the couch. Adam wakes me at dawn, asking for his Baba Daddy.
We go for a walk after breakfast. Mia Grace discovers fog. She gets the cutest mystified look on her face when Adam runs ahead and disappears. “Dam,” she calls, reaching for him, and then giggles when he suddenly appears again. We should never have moved from this magical place.
This time, when Adam runs back to us, he hugs my knees. “I want to go home,” he says.
For a moment, I think he means the house here, but he doesn’t think of Bahía as home.
He takes my hand and pulls. “I want Baba Daddy.”
Mia Grace swivels her head, looking for Jalal. “Baba. Baba,” she cries and signals her want.
This is a nightmare.
We turn back toward the house, the three of us glum, silent figures moving through the fog. It’s no longer magical; it’s only cold and wet. “It will burn off,” Jalal said to me when I first moved here and complained about the fog. And later, just as he’d promised, the sun would come out to reveal the beauty of the sea. There’s no beauty now.
An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) Page 19