“He’s not here. Do you want a cup of coffee?”
She nods and takes a seat at the table.
“Have you had breakfast?”
“It’s after ten.”
Of course she’s eaten. She wakes early and starving like her brother. It’s too close to lunchtime to eat much, so I grab a pear as I head to the table with her cup. “Were you coming in from the garden?”
“Yes.” She spoons sugar into her coffee and stirs. “There isn’t really any work to do right now, though. It’s too muddy.” She blows into her cup. “But it looks like the sun might stay out today. For a while, at least.”
I wait for her to change the subject, but she seems content with sipping and stirring this morning. This is going to take forever. Obviously, she knows I caught Jalal and Diane, so I might as well hear what she has to say about it. “Do you have a comment on last night, Aza?”
“Last night?”
I stare at her until she looks back down at her cup.
“I … I’m sorry you didn’t stay at the party,” she says. “I didn’t even know you were there until Jalal asked me if I’d seen you. I’m sure Judith—”
“I’ll apologize to Judith later today. She’ll understand. Or maybe not. After all, she’s more Jalal’s friend than mine.”
“What did he do?” She looks at me now, eyes wide as if she’s surprised by her directness.
“You were there. I’m sure you know.”
“But I don’t, and … neither does Jalal.”
I stand and put the untouched pear back in the fruit bowl. “If he told you that, Aza, then you need to face the fact your brother lies to you. Apparently, so does your best friend.” I cross the floor and lift Mia Grace from the play corral. “Come on, Adam. Let’s put on warmer clothes and go visit the ‘elfunts.’”
The zoo is a mistake. Just as we arrive, the sky clouds over and the wind picks up. Most of the animals stay in their shelters. Adam whines and Mia Grace fusses, as if echoing my mood. We leave after twenty minutes. Even though Adam rarely naps in the mornings now, they both fall asleep on the way home.
Judith’s car is parked out front and Jalal’s car is in the garage. Great. I’ll have to face them both. But not for long. I leave the keys in the ignition and my purse on the seat. Jalal appears as I’m unbuckling Mia Grace’s car seat. Without a word, he carries Adam into the house. Aza, Judith, and Hank are in the kitchen. Aza takes Mia Grace from me and follows Jalal upstairs.
“We stopped by to invite you and Jalal out for lunch,” Hank says as naturally as if they do that every day. “We’ve been chomping at the bit to try that new Japanese steakhouse.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, but I have an appointment in a few minutes.”
“But when we got here Aza said you’d just left for the zoo,” Judith says.
“Yes, well … we came right back because I remembered I’m supposed to get my hair trimmed at eleven thirty.”
“You went to the salon two days ago,” Jalal says from behind me.
I walk to the table and hug Judith and Hank. “Congratulations,” I tell them. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you last night.”
“But why did you leave?” Hank asks.
“I really don’t want to be rude,” I say, “but I have to go.”
“Renee,” Judith reaches for my hand. I pull away.
“Ask Jalal,” I tell her. “He can give you all the details—if he can tell the truth for once.”
I slam out the door and then nearly take out a planter beside the garage as I tear out of there. I’m sick of all the game playing. Let Jalal come clean and take the blame. I drive for ten minutes before I know where I’m headed.
It’s raining again, so the cemetery is deserted except for a few people gathered at a distant burial. They say if it rains on a funeral, the deceased goes to heaven. It didn’t rain the day they buried Becky. I stood in the sun that late spring day and witnessed the ugly end to a desperate life. Indigents aren’t buried in sections like Meredith’s. They’re given the plots no one else would pay for. Becky got a spot beside the maintenance shed, where most of the grass had surrendered to the weeds. The city was supposed to mark her grave with a numbered cement brick. Five weeks later, right before I left Indiana, I went back to check. They hadn’t placed it yet. Maybe they never did.
Meredith’s grave has had two markers. Gone is the one engraved with hers and Jalal’s names. Her new one is sleeker, a white marble obelisk accented with a spray of carved roses arced around her name. I’m creeped out again by Jalal’s and my name side-by-side on the black double marker. I’ve been here with him only once, right after these new stones were installed, but I suspect he comes here often. Aza brings roses when they’re in bloom.
I open the iron gate and walk to the bench where I sat three years ago, the day I came to tell Meredith I was pregnant with Adam. On that happy day, the sun drenched everything in golden light. Today, it’s as if the leaden sky weeps with me.
I’ve made my peace with Meredith. The ghost that haunts my nights is not hers. It’s a part of me, that black hole in my soul that sucks the joy out of every good thing in my life. Jalal was supposed to fill up that hole. He promised to love me that much.
“Meredith?” I whisper. The memory of standing at my mother’s grave rushes back and silences me. In all the years since, I’ve never felt Becky’s presence, never sensed any communication. Maybe Meredith is different. She loved Jalal too. She could sympathize. “Can you hear me?” My heart leaps at a sound. I wait. It’s only the elm branches shuddering in the cold wind. I breathe in and out, focusing my will, trying to call her. Oh. Something’s here. A presence. In a desperate grasp, I speak to it, “I’m afraid I’ve lost him.”
“Never.”
I’m on my feet in a flash, spinning toward the voice. “Jalal.”
He stands outside the fence, his hands gripping the gate. “I promised I would never leave you, Renee.”
“You also promised to love me forever.”
“When did I break either of those promises?”
“I saw you with her last night and—”
“What the … Aza said …” He shakes his head and a raindrop from one black curl runs down his cheek. “You saw nothing, Renee, because there was nothing for you to see. Nothing.”
My nails cut into my palms. “I can’t trust you.”
Jalal rears back as though punched. “I do not deserve that.” He combs his fingers back through his hair, and grasps the crown of his head. We stare at each other across the expanse of lawn that will one day blanket the graves of our family. “How did we come to this?” he asks.
When I say nothing, he deflates with a sigh. After a moment, he turns his back on me and walks away.
As if all my oxygen got caught in his wake, I gulp air and sink to the bench, facing Meredith’s monument again. I’m so cold. I cross my arms, hugging myself. “How can he ask me that?”
My children call me home. I don’t want them to pay for all the craziness between me and Jalal. We have to keep their lives as normal as possible until we work out the next steps. When I walk in the house, Jalal is alone in the playroom with the kids. I join them and Mia Grace climbs on my lap and pulls up my shirt. It’s the middle of the afternoon and she wants to nurse. That’s regression. I have to take control of my life for my kids’ sake.
“Look, Mama,” Adam says. He grins and points to a tower made of his giant Lego blocks.
“Did you build that all by yourself?”
Adam nods, then glances sideways at Jalal who says, “Tell the truth, Adam.”
“Me and Baba Daddy builded it.”
“Great job,” I say. “It’s fantastic.” Too bad your father can’t tell the truth.
“Will you be all right with them?” Jalal asks me. “I need to prep the vegetables for the stew.”
“I’m fine.” See? We can handle this new relationship. We just have to put the kids first. Mia Grace pulls away from my breast, but she makes no
move to get down. I call to Jalal, “Did they have TV time after their naps?”
“No.” He walks back and looks at me oddly. “Did you forget their schedule is off today because they napped before lunch? They finished eating about ten minutes before you came back.”
I reach for the remote and turn on the TV.
“Do you know what time it is, Renee?”
“Of course I do.” I glance at the cable box. I’m surprised that it reads only 12:47, but I don’t show it. He thinks I’ve lost touch with reality. Is that what he’s telling everyone?
Adam pulls on the leg of my jeans. “I not like this, Mama.”
He’s watching some stupid shopping network because I forgot to turn to Nick Jr. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” I change channels, aware that Jalal is still standing there. I refuse to look at him. Finally, he goes back to the kitchen, evidently satisfied he has proof that I’m crazy.
What I am is exhausted. I can’t sleep when Jalal’s not beside me, but I can’t stand for him to be that close. I force down the lump forming in my throat. No more crying. I set Mia Grace in her play corral and walk over to the island where Jalal’s working. Then I just stand there because I don’t know what to say. What are the new rules? He lays the knife down on his cutting board and slides it across to me. Slicing the carrots reminds me I haven’t eaten all day. No wonder I’m acting like a crazy woman.
Before I finish the carrots, Jalal sets a plate of cheese and fruit next to me and takes the cutting board back. He knows me so well. That’s how he seems to read my mind. I’ve gotten used to him taking care of me. I’ve never let anyone do that before. Not even Jennie. I let my guard down with Jalal. He knows me so well. How can he hurt me like this? My throat closes again and I can’t swallow the grape in my mouth. Everything blurs. I spit the grape in my hand and a sound like a sob comes with it.
“Go take a nap,” he says. “Aza is upstairs if I need help.”
He knows me so well.
Twenty-Three
When I woke that first morning in the foster home, I was so completely disoriented I thought I was dreaming with my eyes open. I’d like to think this is a dream now, but I know where I am. I’m lying in the master suite of a home I was never meant to live in. I’m married to a man who was never meant to be my husband. But the two children I gave birth to were meant to be mine. No one will ever take them from me, not CPS to a foster home certainly, but not even Jalal.
I’m not crazy. My imagination may have distorted some things this year, but I know what I saw last night. Every time I try to tell myself I made more of it than I should, I see Diane’s triumphant smile. What I feared, what I suspected, has become reality. Now I have to figure out my next move.
Dinner is surreal. It’s just the four of us, two innocent children and two adults pretending all is right with their world. But the wires are twisting.
Jalal and I move side-by-side as if a massive fissure hasn’t opened between us. We clean up after dinner. We bathe the kids, dress them for bed, have story time, and kiss them goodnight. Normal. Normal. Normal.
I straighten up the playroom. Jalal checks the doors and sets the alarm. He sets his phone on the charger in the kitchen. I go back upstairs and put a load of clothes to wash. Normal. Normal. Normal.
Then he goes to his bed and I go to mine. Not normal at all.
In self-protection, my body shut down and I slept through the night. I wake before the sun and make breakfast for everyone. I feel stronger. I’ve made a decision. I don’t know how everything will work out, but I’m taking charge. If Jalal can look me in the eye and say he’s done nothing wrong, it’s because truth is in the mind of the teller. In his eyes, if he’s guilty of anything, it’s only being flirtatious—something that comes natural to him. So I have to face my truth. It’s up to me to make the next move.
I’m going to do what I should have done two months ago—confront Diane. Adam begged Jalal to take them back to the zoo today. When they leave, I’m going to the college. If Diane’s not there, I’ll go to her apartment. Whatever it takes, we’re having it out today.
Adam hops down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jalal follows, holding Mia Grace by the hand as she slowly makes her way. My two little babies are growing so fast. She’ll be a year old in six weeks, and emulating Adam makes her seem even older. We’ve lived here a year. How is that possible? Adam heads straight to the door. “Hold on, little man. Don’t I get a hug and kiss goodbye?” He runs back to me.
“And you have to get your coat on,” Jalal says.
“But it’s warm.” Adam points to the window.
“Silly,” I say, “you know it’s cold in winter, even when the sun shines.” I hug him and kiss him until he giggles. When I release him, he runs to Jalal waiting by the coat rack. A few minutes later, Jalal stops to let me kiss Mia Grace, and then he bends slightly toward me before our eyes meet and we both pull back. Habit. I look away and he moves past me. “Have a good time,” I call after them.
Before Jalal came downstairs this morning, I checked his phone for Diane’s number. It was there, of course, but no texts between them. No evidence. It doesn’t matter because whatever they started ends today.
I go to the main office on campus and a helpful young man tells me Diane’s first class of the day starts in forty minutes, but she’s usually in her office by now. He also marks that location on a photocopied map of the campus, asks where I’m parked, and shows me a walking shortcut so I won’t have to move my car. He’s so helpful, I feel a little guilty that he’s making my ambush easier.
The Fates must be on my side today because Diane pulls into the parking lot just as I reach the building. She’s gathering her things and doesn’t notice I’ve walked up beside her car until she opens her door. Her eyes flash surprise, and then she fakes a smile. “I never imagined I’d see you here.”
“I won’t be for long.”
“Good because my class starts in ten minutes.”
“No, your class starts at ten thirty.” She gives me the bitch version of Kristen’s eye rolling, and I make a fist to keep from raking my nails down her face. “I’ll keep this short and to the point. Leave Jalal alone.”
“Leave him alone?”
“I know what you’re trying to do, so stop.”
She shuts her car door and turns back to me with the same long-suffering, smirk I imagine she gives to clueless students.
“What is it you think I’m trying to do, Renee?”
“Break up my marriage, Diane.”
She shakes her head, sighing. “Have you discussed this with Jalal?”
“There’s no reason to. And I’m not discussing it with you. I’m telling you to quit calling him and quit making up excuses to show up at our door.”
“I don’t need excuses to talk to Jalal. He enjoys our conversations.”
“He’s just being polite.”
“Really?” She laughs. “Surely you don’t think he hasn’t encouraged me.”
“Listen, bitch—”
“No, you listen, you skanky, lowbrow, lunatic. Jalal makes his own choices. You have nothing to do with it. Now get out of my way.” She shoves me aside and walks past me before I can stop her.
“Diane.”
She whirls around, glaring. “What do you want now?”
“Leave Jalal alone.”
“You’re pathetic.” She takes a step back toward me. “I’m going to give you a reality check, and then you’d better stay the hell away from me. I don’t know what kind of spell you put on Jalal to make him marry you, but he couldn’t have made a worse choice. You are nothing but dead weight. He needs someone like me, someone who can give him the support and inspiration he needs. And just so you know the real score here—I love that painting in your beach house. The Paris street scene. At the end of Jalal’s bed. You know the one I mean?”
She turns away and marches into the building.
I don’t know how long I stand there staring at the door before I realize she
could be watching me, gloating. My face flames, but I’m ice inside. I start walking back the way I came. My feet are moving, but they don’t feel connected to me. I’m empty. I’m just the shape of Renee, like an untouched figure in one of Adam’s coloring books.
Diane’s been in my house. In my bed. With Jalal. I make it to the closest trash can just in time to vomit my breakfast. A girl behind me offers her opinion, “Gross.” I sink down on a nearby bench and stare at the sidewalk below me.
In my house.
In my bed.
With Jalal.
I’m so cold. I can’t lift my head. Feet, so many feet, pass by, oblivious to mine. Two stop.
“Are you all right, miss?” I force myself to look up. An old man peers down at me. “You don’t look well,” he says. “Do you want me to call someone?” He pulls his phone from his pocket.
“No.” I stand up too fast and he grabs my arm to keep me from falling.
“I should get you help.”
“No.” I force a smile. “I was a little queasy, but it’s passed, now.”
He looks doubtful but nods. “All right, then. I hope you’ll feel better soon.”
“Thank you.” I smile at him again and he walks away. I sit back down. I’m not cold anymore; I’m raging at the image of Jalal with Diane at his side. I hate her. I hate him. His fucking innocent act. Why did I let myself believe I could trust him? Love bites you in the ass every damned time. Well, fuck you, Mr. Vaziri. I bite back.
Jalal calls me when they get home from the zoo. I let it go to voicemail, and then I text him to say I’m shopping. That’s not entirely a lie. I’m buying a little revenge.
Two hours later, I enter our kitchen. I’m a little irritated to find Aza and Kristen sitting at the table with Jalal. Oh, what the hell. They might as well be in on the big reveal. Aza is the first to spot me. Her mouth drops open. When Kristen looks to see what her mother reacted to, her eyes widen and she says, “Wow.”
Jalal turns toward me. His face remains blank for a few seconds. “Oh my god,” he says, more breath than words.
Adam runs toward me but stops a few feet away. “Mama?”
“I think it’s cool,” Kristen says.
An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) Page 24