by Andrew Kane
“And so do you, Devorah,” Esther said, trying to goad the younger sister to participate. “Why don’t the three of you go play together?”
The two sisters looked at each other, then at their cousin. “Okay,” Michali said, taking the lead as if she knew it was her job.
The girls ran off with the ball, leaving Esther and Martin sitting on a bench.
“Good job,” Martin said.
“They just needed a push.”
“Elizabeth has really been looking forward to this for a long time.”
“So have the girls. But you know how it is, the reality is always different than the fantasy.”
“I’ll say.”
“Speaking of reality and fantasy, how are yours?”
“Things are good.”
She elbowed him in the side. “Come on, Marty, tell me about her!”
“What makes you think there’s a her?”
“You said there was.”
“That was more than a week ago.”
“Don’t tell me you’re becoming a love ‘em and leave ‘em type!”
“Not quite.”
“Then what’s going on?”
He didn’t want to discuss the topic, especially considering recent developments. Yet he knew he couldn’t get away without telling her something. “What’s going on is that I met someone nice, I’ve seen her a few times, and that’s about it.”
“That’s about it? You don’t expect to get away with that, little brother. When was the last time you saw someone more than once? A few times! For you, that’s going steady.”
“Going steady?”
She elbowed him again. “Don’t make fun of my terminology. So I’m a little behind the times.”
“I just don’t get what’s so important about my social life.”
She looked at him soberly and took his hand. “Look, Marty, for the past two years you’ve been in a daze. I don’t mean to minimize Katherine and Ethan’s deaths, and God knows I can’t imagine what it’s like to have something like that happen. But two years is an awfully long time for someone your age not to meet someone. At times, I’ve thought that you would never again get involved with anyone. I guess I’m just excited for you and I care about you.”
“I know you care.” He squeezed her hand.
“And if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”
He nodded.
She smiled, then simultaneously, as if in sync, they turned to watch the children playing. “Looks like they’re getting along nicely,” Esther said.
He thought about that for a moment, how easy it would be for the kids to relate to one another at this point in their lives and how difficult it would become for them in the future. They would lead lives as distinctive as his and Esther’s, perhaps more so because Elizabeth had never had any exposure to the religion. And in the end, her cousins wouldn’t even regard her as Jewish. He wondered why he was bothering in the first place, what kind of pain this might one day bring his daughter. And then he reminded himself of the other side of the equation: life is long, full of surprises, and one never knows what it will bring. Hearing Elizabeth’s laughter, watching her rollick with Esther’s children from afar, reassured him that somehow she would find her way, just as he would find his. Only now, he was on a detour unsure where he might end up. He had always been a person of little faith, but now he was wondering more and more if there might be something beyond himself and this moment. Just what that something was, however, he wouldn’t speculate.
“It’s nice to see,” he said.
“We should do this more often.”
“I’d like to.” He turned to her. “The reason I’m being cryptic about this other thing is simply because I don’t understand it. You know how important it is for me to understand things. After all, I’m in the business.”
She nodded. “Maybe you’re trying too hard.”
“You’re probably right. But I can’t help myself, it’s my nature.”
“I wonder what you tell your patients when they say that.”
He smiled. “Point well taken.”
“Why don’t you try relaxing, let it happen and see where it takes you.”
“It’s just that it’s going so fast. I find myself absorbed with this woman, and I hardly even know her. I’m… lost in her.” He was surprised at his honesty. He hadn’t been this forthcoming with Reddy.
“Isn’t that the best part of it though? The trick isn’t to avoid getting infatuated, it’s to sustain the infatuation even after you know the person like the back of your hand.”
“This from a woman who met her husband through a matchmaker!”
“Ah, but that’s exactly the point. You see, I met many men through the matchmaker – all suitable on paper, at least as far as Mamma and Papa were concerned – but I married the one I was infatuated with. Did I know him when I married him? Of course not! And when I did get to know him and, as in all marriages, discovered things about him that annoyed me, what kept me going was that infatuation. If you have that, so intensely and so soon, I think it’s a good thing.”
“Interesting. Surprising though, coming from you.”
“You disappoint me, little brother. You should know better than to pigeonhole me like that.”
He considered her point. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. So, you want to tell me more about this lady? I’ll bet she’s gorgeous.”
“I think so.”
“And smart, probably very smart.”
“That too.”
“Yet there’s more, something else that’s bothering you.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“With you, Marty, nothing’s obvious.”
He bent over and seemed lost in thought for a moment. She rubbed his shoulder.
“So, what is it?” she asked.
“Nothing, I suppose. I’m probably scared, that’s all.”
“That’s okay, it’s a good sign.”
“I suppose you could look at it that way.”
“You should look at it that way.” She got up from the bench and held out her hand. “Now, let’s go play with the kids.”
He pulled himself up and fell in stride beside her. As they walked, he wondered why she let the conversation end so easily. Was it that she knew he was throwing her a line of bull? Of course, it had to have been. She had always been able to read him as no one else could. Well enough to know when not to push. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as they approached the children, and a smile came to his face.
chapter 34
Cheryl Manning gazed into Martin Rosen’s eyes, imagining the suspicions he might be having. Her heart was laden with the fear of losing him once he learned the truth.
They had been sitting in the restaurant for over an hour and things seemed fine on the surface. She wanted to be with him again. He was able to get to her in a way that no man ever had. And she was eager to invite him back to her place again to see if whatever had hit him the other night would recur, and perhaps learn what it was.
“So, what’s next on the agenda?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Coy. “What did you have in mind?”
“Gee,” he responded, “beats me. That’s why I asked you.”
“My apartment?” she asked.
“Exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” He signaled the waiter for a check.
They sat together on the couch in her living room, holding hands, gazing at each other, engaging in the prerequisite rituals to the inevitable. Much of their thoughts remained unspoken.
“I have a confession,” she said.
His eyes opened widely.
“You sure you want to hear it?”
“I want to hear anything you have to say.”
She squeezed his hand tighter. “It’s just that… well, I know we’ve being seeing each other for such a short time, but… I want to tell you that you make me feel special.”
He smiled. “You make me feel special.” He hesitated. “You make me feel alive again.”
“I’ve never said that to a man before. I suppose I never met the right person.”
Her last statement sounded a bit cliché to him, and he figured there had to be more to it. A woman of her intelligence and beauty must have had lovers before, and if not, there would be a better reason than the one she had just offered. His reservations gnawed at him even more.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, nothing. I just… think too much, that’s all.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“You have?”
“Like the other night, as you were leaving, the way you drifted off, it felt strange to me.”
“It was really nothing,” he said, wondering why she was bringing it up again. “I just get spacey now and then.”
“I’ll try and get used to it. If that’s the only strange thing about you, I think we can work it out.” She moved closer to him.
“You know what they say about us shrinks?”
“That you’re all voyeurs?” she said, kissing his neck.
“That wasn’t exactly what I was referring to, but it’ll do.”
He lifted her head to his, brought their lips together, and was once again struck by the same staggering intensity of their first kiss. All he wanted was to have her, then and there, for as long as they could stand it. And whatever doubts that still lingered in his mind he cast aside, as he was powerless in the wake of his need to surrender.
“Tell me about Elizabeth,” she said, sitting up in bed, stroking his hair.
“Now?” he mumbled, his face in the pillow. He turned to her. “Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Yes. But if I go to sleep, you’ll leave.”
He sat up and kissed her gently on the cheek.
“I hate it when you go,” she said.
“So do I.”
“So, tell me about her!”
Martin considered his response. “Well, for starters, she’s the most beautiful creation in the universe. She’s smart, precocious, fun, bratty, spoiled and delicious.”
Cheryl smiled, though inside she felt some jealousy. Is he describing his daughter, his ex-wife, or both? “I’d like to meet her,” she said, not fully believing that the words had actually slipped from her tongue.
Martin’s face turned serious. “You think that’s a good idea just yet?”
“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow,” she responded, her tone guarded. “I meant eventually.”
“Why don’t we talk more about it next time we see each other?” he suggested, sounding more like a therapist than a lover.
“Okay,” she said, appearing eager to let the topic drop.
He looked at the clock on the night table, then back at her. He didn’t have to say it; they both knew it was time for him to go.
chapter 35
Martin Rosen noticed that Jacques Benoît appeared more pensive than usual.
“I have something to show you,” Benoît said.
Martin lifted his eyebrows.
“It’s really not that exciting, just something I’ve held onto for several years.”
Keen as he was to Benoît’s knack for understatement, Martin knew that if the billionaire was bothering to show him something, it would prove to be important. He watched as Benoît reached into his pocket and took out a jeweler’s envelope.
Benoît handed the envelope to Martin. “Go ahead, take a look.”
Martin opened the envelope and slid the brooch out into his palm. He examined it for a minute, then looked at Benoît. “It’s very pretty. What is it?”
“A piece I saved from the war. I’ve kept it in my bank vault since.”
Martin hesitated, wondering what was going on. “Why are you showing it to me?”
“Because I would like for you to have it.”
“Jacques, you know I can’t really…”
“If you’ll just hear me out,” Benoît interrupted, “you might look upon this gesture a little differently.”
Martin nodded.
“You see,” Benoît continued, “this piece once belonged to a Jewish woman whom I had met briefly. My unit was hiding her and her two children from the Vichy police in the hills of Lyon. I believe the husband was a banker and had hidden assets, if memory serves me. Anyway, the Vichy thought he would be a big prize for the Nazis. He managed to get his wife and children out of the city but was captured before he could join them.
“My men and I kept his family for two days before our scouts informed us that the Vichy were closing in. I ordered two men to escort the family to another safe location, while the rest of us stayed to fight. The woman, to thank me, gave me this piece before they fled. I refused it at first, but she insisted. It was the only thing of value she had, and she wanted me to have it rather than to have it fall into the hands of the Nazis. I didn’t quite understand it myself, but I suppose people in desperation do desperate things. In any event, I never saw her, her children, nor my two comrades again.”
Martin looked at the brooch more closely and saw the insignia on the back.
“Do you understand French?” Benoît asked.
“No.”
“It says, ‘To Leila, all my love, Philip.’”
“Her name was Leila?”
“Yes. I imagine Philip was her husband.”
Martin scrutinized the brooch again. “That is a very powerful story,” he said. “Still, why would you want to give this away? Clearly it was given to you as a sign of your righteousness in helping those people.”
“Righteousness is a funny word, doctor. I prefer to think of my acts in terms of humanness.”
Martin nodded. It was a point well taken.
“And as for my giving it to you,” Benoît continued, “I think that this is the proper thing to do.”
Martin’s eyes asked why.
“I assume you’ve heard about the recent Senate committee hearings on how the Swiss government hid enormous sums of money over the past fifty years that had belonged to Jewish families during the Holocaust,” Benoît said.
Martin nodded.
“Well, I, for one, find that whole business reprehensible. It will most certainly be recorded as a very dark episode of history, much like the Holocaust itself.”
The direction this was taking was becoming clear to Martin. How to handle it, however, was presently beyond his grasp. He remained wordless.
“I want to give this to you simply because you are a Jew. I know that may seem bizarre, but it is the only way I can do my part in righting a despicable wrong. Believe me, if I could ever find that woman, I would return it to her. Under the circumstances, you are the only candidate I have.”
“Surely you know other Jewish people,” Martin said.
“Of course. But in our brief time together, I have grown quite fond of you. I hope I am permitted to say that, and even if not, it is still the truth. You have impressed me as a person of integrity. Your refusal to avail yourself of that stock tip, for example, was most unusual.” Benoît stopped himself, seeming to consider what to say next.
Martin waited.
“Maybe I cannot articulate exactly what is in my heart,” Benoît said, “but as far as I am concerned, you are the person to whom I should give this.”
“I appreciate your feelings on this, Jacques, but I honestly don’t…”
“Feel comfortable with this?” Benoît interjected.
“I don’t really know how I feel,” Martin responded, betraying a rare moment of confusion in front of a patient.
“Then why not hold onto it for
a while, then decide if you want to keep it. Perhaps you know a survivor, or a lady friend to whom you might want to give it?”
Martin was suddenly suspicious. Could Benoit possibly know about Cheryl and his parents? Was it far-fetched to think that this man was investigating him?
Martin decided not to raise the issue. There were three minutes remaining in the session – not nearly enough time to get into it – and he thought it best to wait and see if Benoît dropped any more hints about his personal life in the future before acting on what might be nothing more than his own paranoia.
Martin examined the brooch, observing its elegance, feeling eerie just to have it in his hand. But mostly, he was struck by the irony that he, of all people, would be chosen by anyone as the keeper of such a thing. He looked up at Benoît, still not sure of what to do.
Benoît handed him a check as payment for the session. “Can I take your silence as agreement?” he asked.
“I need to think more about it.”
“I hope you will hold onto it while you think. You may even become used to the idea of having it.”
“I’ll agree to do that, only so long as you know that I may decide to return it.”
“That would be fine,” Benoît replied.
“Good then, I’ll see you next time.”
Benoît held his hand out for Martin to shake. “Have a good week, doctor,” he said.
Martin felt strange taking Benoît’s hand. They had shaken at their first meeting, but not since. Doing so now felt as if he were acquiescing in some deal when, in reality, he had committed to nothing. Then again, there was reality, and there was Jacques Benoît’s mind. And Martin couldn’t help but wonder which was truly more compelling.
A few hours later, during a break, Martin picked up the phone and called Cheryl at her office. He was expecting her voice mail, yet he still felt uneasy when he got it. Why isn’t she ever in her office?
“Hi Cheryl, it’s Marty. I was thinking about our conversation last night. I’m still not completely comfortable with introducing you to Elizabeth, but I do have another thought. I won’t be in the office this afternoon, but you can reach me on my cell phone. The number is 363-3640. Call me as soon as you can. Bye.”