Riding Lies

by Eshkar Erblich-Brifman

  “Why’s the key in the door?!” she hears an angry voice followed by Elad’s face.

  “Say hello,” Koby responds and introduces them.

  She holds out her hand and wonders if Koby will notice that it’s the hand that served as the receptacle for his sperm.

  He shakes it and says, “Nice to meet you,” and roars at his father, asking him not to leave the key in the door, and how many times can he ask. Koby smiles and Elad goes to his room. A few minutes later they hear Shaked and Nadav’s enthused voices echoing through the stairwell.

  She calls and orders pizza for everyone. “I’m buying,” she quickly tells Koby, “it was so nice of you to have us over all afternoon.”

  “First cake and now pizza?” he laughs, “so all I provide is the place? That’s a pretty good deal!”

  “You provide more than just a location,” she says, staring deeply into his eyes.

  She texts Dror that they’ll be back late and that if he gets home before them, he should prepare himself something to eat. Right then, she didn’t give a damn. The children are with her. She hasn’t abandoned them, heaven forbid. They’ll have a bite too and go home. She clicks send with almost no hesitation. A second later the two checkmarks by the message turn blue. Dror has read the message but he doesn’t respond.

  She closes WhatsApp and asks if they need any help arranging the table. Koby says that it’s the children’s job and asks if she minds if they eat around the coffee table. The dining table’s not big enough for everyone. She says no problem, of course, whatever is convenient, they don’t want to be any bother. He takes vegetables out of the fridge and asks if Nadav will eat any. “Only cucumbers,” she says.

  A short while later, Neta and Noam also arrive, almost at the same time as the pizza. Shaked puts a pile of plates on the coffee table, pushes the textbooks, tissues and pens aside and moves the basket of nuts to the dresser.

  Neta, Noam, Elad and Nadav sit down on the sofa. Elad kicks the pile of laundry to the floor.

  She looks at the children chattering away, at the old sofa, and recalls how she was thrashing around just a short while ago…groaning on that very sofa with Koby’s fingers inside her.

  ***

  She rummages through the pile, trying to find something useful and inexpensive for the Passover activity she was planning at preschool. Moses in a basket? She did that last year. Wine goblets or raisins again? She searches for something new, different, but in the end, she leaves the store with just a pile of Happy Holiday! stickers. Maybe she’ll find something at another store for cheaper. She still has time. The rainy days are slowly being replaced by warm spring days. The sun is glowing through the cypress treetops lining the boulevard. The light rail train stops alongside her and she notices an endless stream of students from one of the religious schools emerging. They’re all wearing the same uniform: embroidered skullcaps and curly sidelocks hanging from the sides of their heads. A religious woman with a double stroller tries to make her way through them, then stops. She looks at the children. The youngest looks about a year old, the second around two. A third child is hanging off the back handle and can’t be more than four. Go forth and multiply. It’s their business, she guesses, and offers the woman help in maneuvering the stroller. The woman thanks her but turns down the offer. When the students start to disperse, she continues on her way.

  Free and relaxed, she walks through the stone-paved streets glimmering in the sun. What’s he doing now? Maybe he’s free? She takes her phone out of her purse. Her thoughts have revolving constantly around him. She’s finding it hard to think about anything else, even at work.

  “Are you home?” she writes. He connects and replies immediately that yes. “And the children?” she asks.

  “They’re at their mother’s.”

  She exhales in relief.

  “Do you want some company?” she asks lightly and her heart leaps when he writes, “Always.”

  She crosses the road and buys fresh bagels coated with golden sesame, and a few bourekas for the children’s dinner. All she’ll have to do is cut up some vegetables and maybe boil a few eggs. That’s enough for a meal. She’s going to take care of herself for a while.

  “I brought you bagels,” she waves the brown paper bag at him. She left the bourekas and Happy Holidays! stickers in the car.

  He closes the door behind her, presses her against the wall and kisses her eagerly. The bag of bagels falls from her hands. This time, she remembered to shave her legs.

  ***

  The bourekas are warming up in the oven, and the eggs in the pan are rattling softly. They’ll be boiled in a few minutes. The smell of vegetable salad fills the kitchen. She’s setting the table but her mind is filled with images, of Koby’s shower stall, so filthy, he could barely convince her to get in. But she didn’t really have a choice, her stomach and thighs were so sticky. And although the stall was tiny and moldy, he got in with her and asked if she was interested in another round. But she had to get home, and she already felt completely satisfied.

  He soaps his body and tells her casually about the bike trip he’s planning for the Passover week. Her eyes widen, “Can I come too?” she asks, and for a moment she looks like an eager little girl again.

  He laughs, “Yes, why not. You’re a great rider now, and you have a few more weeks to practice.”

  “Yeah!” she jumps with enthusiasm and he bursts out laughing. Soap splashes in his eyes and he squints before splashing water on his face.

  Next time, she’ll bring bleach spray, maybe even tomorrow. She’s not sure she’ll survive without him for more than twenty-four hours.

  ***

  They sit down at the table.

  Neta wrinkles her nose and refuses to touch the bourekas. Instead, she goes to the cabinet and comes back with rice cakes.

  “Oh, come on Netaleh, you’re so skinny as it is!” she says anxiously, “I don’t understand why you need that Styrofoam!”

  “So I don’t land up looking like you,” Neta says calmly and shoves a rice cake in her mouth, making an irritating crackle.

  “That was a nasty thing to say!” she says, feeling herself turning red.

  “Sorry,” Neta quickly apologizes and explains, “but we aren’t all born with good genes…I have to take care of myself.”

  “You’re at such a problematic age…” she rolls her eyes, “just don’t go all anorexic on me.”

  “Why would she become anorexic?” Dror wakes up. “Why are you putting such nonsense in her head? If you made healthier food, she’d eat!”

  She grips her head with both hands, “Why not have bourekas once in a while, what’s the matter with you all? What do I look like to you, a servant? If you want healthy food,” she turns to Dror, “then make it yourself!”

  ‘I have no problem with bourekas,” Dror replies with his characteristic indifference. He ostentatiously picks up another and takes a big bite.

  “You’re not normal, any of you!” she declares.

  “Mom, the food is very tasty,” Nadav says, trying to appease her.

  “Thank you, darling,” she says, “eat some cucumber too, okay?”

  Nadav nods and takes one slice of cucumber, to fulfill his obligation. He’s always known how to make her feel better.

  “I’m going on a biking trip over Passover,” she announces suddenly. She’s not sure where she found the courage to just come out and say it, without asking for permission, without taking anyone else into account.

  “When?” Dror glares at her. She can tell from his expression that he’s not happy.

  “Sometime during the week. For two days. You’ll be home.”

  “How do you know?” he asks.

  “Because for years you haven’t worked during the Passover week!” she feels herself getting angry again. “You’re on compulsory leave. What kind of an impressi
on are you trying to make now?!”

  “Fine,” he says, clearly reluctant, “I guess we’ll manage. What do I have to actually do?”

  “Function for two days as a father!” she informs him, “Do you think you can handle it?”

  “I think that you don’t think highly enough of me,” he chuckles.

  She doesn’t respond. What is there to say?

  “Can I sleep at a friend’s?” Nadav asks nervously.

  “We’ll see,” she says, keeping her options open.

  “Can I sleep at Shaked’s?” he says, being more insistent than usual.

  “No,” she laughs, “Shaked will be at her mother’s, since Koby’s also going on the trip!”

  “Ah, that’s right…” Nadav answers and giggles.

  “Won’t Ido be home?” Dror asks.

  “Ido will be home for Passover Seder and the actual holiday,” she reminds him.

  “Where are we for the Seder night?” Neta asks as she nibbles on some cucumber.

  “At Edna’s,” she answers, piling up the dirty dishes.

  “Hmph…” Neta grumbles, “I hate going there!”

  “Well, you’ll have to get over yourself,” she says a little coolly, “we arranged it a long time ago.”

  “What do you have against Edna?” Dror sits up. If anyone even dares to say something about his sister…

  “Nothing,” Neta shrugs, “but her kids are screwups.”

  “They’re your cousins!” Dror says angrily.

  “True,” Neta agrees and nibbles another slice of cucumber, “but they’re still screwups.”

  “Okay, let’s not get into unnecessary arguments,” she finally intervenes, “we’re invited to Edna’s for the Seder and that’s that. Now finish eating and go shower.”

  ***

  “Where are you for the Seder?” she asks him as she massages his back after the ride.

  “The children are with my ex,” he tells her dejectedly, “so I guess I’ll spend it with my parents. My brother will also be there, with his family.”

  “I wish I could invite you to join us,” she kisses the top of his head, “we’re going to Dror’s sister,” she adds with a touch of disdain.

  “You’re a sweetheart,” he says and turns around to kiss her, “but it’s totally fine. It’s a tradition, so in any case I can’t get out of it. My parents are already old…who knows how many years we have left to celebrate together…. Maybe I’ll introduce you to them one day, you and my mom would get on great, I’m sure.”

  “I’d love that!” she straightens up with excitement, “It’s a lovely idea!”

  He smiles and offers her coffee. She has time, she’s in no hurry. She asks for herbal tea and goes to pick fresh sage, then remembers that she has a packet of cookies in the car that she bought to take home. Never mind, no one is expecting them. She gets the packet from the front seat while Koby takes care of the tea.

  “The children are with me tomorrow,” he says, “Shaked will be happy to see my parents.”

  They sit drinking hot tea, their arms around each other, and watch the sun high in the sky making its way westward.

  Between sips, she tells him about how Dror is driving her crazy. He’s so apathetic, such a bitter and utter idiot.

  He understands, he’s been there. That’s exactly how he felt before he got divorced.

  She hates it when he yells, humiliating her, making her feel like a little girl. When that happens, she freezes, unable to answer back. She just doesn’t know what to say and how to cope.

  He sighs, hanging onto her every word. He looks into her eyes. He’s had his share of arguments, and he knows what she means. “Maybe it’s something you should consider…” he says in a steady, serious tone.

  “What, divorce?” she’s a little surprised by his bold suggestion, “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it…it’s always on my mind…”

  “Well?” he asks, “You know what’s paralyzing you, right?”

  She looks at him questioningly.

  “Fear. Fixation. Conventions. These things paralyze people. You need to live first and foremost for yourself, Anat. If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be able to take care of your children. You need to be fulfilled, happy. Otherwise you won’t have the strength to carry on looking after your family as you’ve been doing all these years. It’s like the safety instructions on airplanes: You’re meant to put your own oxygen mask on before you put on your children’s.”

  “You’re right, of course,” she says, dipping a cookie in the hot tea, “but it’s not something one does in a day…. I have no idea how Dror would react, or the children, or where I’d find the money to maintain a home and raise three children.”

  “The children will be fine,” he says knowingly, “it’ll only make them more resilient. Kids are like cats, they always fall on their feet. They have an extraordinary ability to adapt and recover. And Dror? Who cares how Dror will react? You have to get out of that place. Your choices from twenty years ago are not necessarily the choices you’d make today. And that’s fine, you just have to learn to come to terms with it and accept it. You’ve evolved, grown up. You’ve grown, and your desires have changed.”

  “You act like it’s no big deal,” she snorts, “like I should simply get up and leave.”

  “I didn’t say it was simple,” he says defensively, “I didn’t say it’s not complicated. But it’s something that you need to consider. Are you prepared to live like this for the rest of your life?”

  “I’ll get divorced and marry you,” she winks and gives him a light knock on the shoulder.

  “I’m not planning on remarrying,” he says with a smile.

  “Really?” she appears surprised.

  “I’ve found my freedom,” he explains, “and I’m not about to give it up.”

  “What does that mean?” she asks, taken aback. Suddenly she’s struck by a thought: Maybe he’s not only hers? How has she not thought of it before?

  “Let’s say that I’m happy where I am,” he avoids answering directly, then smiles, captivating her immediately.

  “And where is that?” she’s quick to ask.

  “Here,” he points at the rock they’re sitting on, “with you.”

  She laughs and leans toward him, even though he hadn’t really answered her.

  ***

  “This is my mother, Hannah,” he introduces the shapely woman with a wrinkled face, big blue eyes and gray hair. She undoubtedly was very beautiful once. She still is, only older, more experienced.

  Hannah reaches out her hand to shake. She has a warm, strong grip.

  She smiles and introduces herself, “Anat.”

  “It’s wonderful of you to come,” Hannah says, “any friend of Koby’s is a friend of ours.”

  She smiles. The words make her feel like a high school student visiting a friend’s home for the first time.

  “And who is this cutie pie?” she turns to Nadav, who appears a little embarrassed and looks around for Shaked.

  Nadav introduces himself and asks politely where Shaked is, and then she appears, racing from the wide-open balcony, her long hair loose and her wild eyes shining.

  “The ball flew into the neighbor’s balcony” she informs them. “Come,” she pulls Nadav’s arm and the two rush off.

  “Anton will be back soon,” Hannah says, “Shall we sit on the balcony?” she suggests and leads Anat out.

  Koby sits down beside her and Hannah goes inside to get a jug of lemonade.

  “You were supposed to wait for me downstairs!” she grumbles softly to Koby.

  “What are you, five?” he chuckles. “We were half an hour early, so we came up.”

  She rolls her eyes. Her leg is jumping uncontrollably, she’s so nervous. Will she make a good impression? Is it import
ant? After all, she’ll never be Koby’s, he certainly made that clear. He’s not looking for a serious relationship, for a commitment. He can’t give her the security she so craves, but still, he did promise to be supportive and to lend her a sympathetic ear.

  Meanwhile, the children have returned from the neighbors with the ball, and they toss it back and forth. Koby asks them to move away from the table before Grandma comes back with their drinks.

  She looks around curiously at the row of neat plants lined up along the balcony. She notices geraniums, touch-me-nots, a marigold plant that’s known better days. She looks at the two heavy pine trees hiding part of the stone building across the road, providing a little privacy between the balcony and the neighboring building. She wishes she lived in an apartment like this. Although you can see the road from the living room, on this balcony at the back, you can forget for a moment that you’re in the city, it’s so magical, with only the birds chirping and the occasional neighbor hanging laundry out to dry. It’s impossible these days to find apartments like this. It’s an old building in one of the established neighborhoods.

  Hannah returns with a jug of lemonade and glasses.

  “What is there to eat?” Shaked asks and Hannah says she’ll be right back.

  “Do you need a hand, Hannah?” she asks thoughtfully and gets up to help. Her chair creeks.

  “I’m fine, it’s all right, sit down,” Hannah says, but she insists. How can she let an elderly woman run around serving her? She follows her to the kitchen.

  Hannah hands her a bowl of peanuts and another, with squares of chocolate, and brings out a tin of homemade cookies. “So, are you also divorced?” she says offhandedly as they leave the kitchen, laden with bowls.

  “No, no,” she smiles sheepishly, “I just ride with Koby…”

  Hannah mutters something and places the tin on the glass table on the balcony. “I made mandelbrot,” she tells them, “but the boys didn’t come…”

  “The boys would have devoured them all in a minute,” Koby says and opens the tin, “this way there’s more for us!”

  Shaked and Nadav run over and take fistfuls of chocolate.