Riding Lies

by Eshkar Erblich-Brifman

  She laughs in embarrassment and says sorry, she didn’t mean to disturb him.

  “You never disturb me!” he says and adds, “The more the merrier.”

  She takes another step back, regretting her stupid idea. “Forget it, I’ll come back later…or not…” she’s not sure what she’s trying to say. “It’s nothing, I also want a word with you about something…”

  “Sure,” he says pleasantly, “so we’ll talk later, okay? We’re kind of in the middle of something. I have to devote my attention to everyone, I’m sure you understand…”

  “Everything is just hunky dory,” she stammers, then curses herself inside, “see you in the dining room.”

  Hadas waves goodbye and closes the door behind her.

  She feels a sharp pain in her chest. What was that?! What are they doing in there? As if she doesn’t know. As if she didn’t know before. Or could she be imagining it? She tries to convince herself that maybe they’re just talking. Maybe Hadas is finding it too tough, or she’s considering going home.

  She thinks her heart stopped beating for a moment. She takes measured, shallow breaths and tries to control her racing heart, but her chest is burning and she starts hyperventilating. Dizzy, she sits down on a nearby bench. What’s happening to her? Her breathing is erratic and rapid, and the dizziness won’t stop. Could she be dehydrated? Maybe she overdid it? This can’t all be because of Koby. Is she having an anxiety attack? She’ll calm down soon, she tells herself, and returns to her room. Orly must surely be out of the shower by now. All she needs is a fresh shower, a decent meal and uninterrupted sleep. That’s all. She’ll be absolutely fine.

  The shower revives her a little and at seven she strolls with Orly to the dining room. She’s carrying a plastic carrier bag holding twelve cellophane packets to match the number of people on the trip, and inside each packet are three coconut cookies she baked herself, packed and tied with a colorful ribbon. It’s just a small Passover gift. She hopes they like it.

  After dinner, she hands out the packets and receives twelve thanks and twelve smiles. She’s feels happy, valued and liked. Koby is the first to taste one and declares them the best coconut cookies he’s ever tasted. And they’re even gluten free. Everyone knows how popular it is to avoid gluten.

  Then they sit on the grass outside the dining room. Eitan takes out a guitar and together they sing Passover songs, followed by the old and beloved Israeli ballads that remind them of things forgotten and awaken distant memories of childhood.

  Avi brings beers for everyone and Hadas ups the level by pulling out a few bottles of wine and disposable cups.

  And then Orly takes out a pouch of marijuana and rolling papers.

  Erez asks if it’s kosher for Passover and everyone rolls with laughter.

  She’s surprised. Now that she hadn’t expected. Orly? Smoking pot? Where did she get it? She feels both repulsed and curious about this strange woman who’s become a good friend of hers. How little she knows about her, how much she still has to learn. Maybe tomorrow, on the way back, she’ll asks her, if she has the guts, where people get pot these days. Orly will probably laugh at her and she’ll seem all innocent and naïve, as always. But she really is naïve. She has no idea, and she’s never smoked anything.

  A few of them roll joints and cigarettes, have a few drinks and sing, and the atmosphere is laid back and warm.

  She takes a glass of wine and makes do with that. She hardly ever drinks. How many opportunities does she have? They don’t drink at home and they never go to restaurants.

  She watches him. He’s, so relaxed, doing the rounds like a proud peacock. All he’s missing is feathers. A stroke on the cheek for Hadas here, a wink for Orly there, a kiss in the air to Noga, and then he comes over to her. “Will you come to me later?” he whispers in her ear.

  She’s thrilled. He’s chosen her, she feels just like Cinderella. Her eyes shining with joy, she nods.

  At one in the morning people start going off to their rooms to sleep. Breakfast is at seven-thirty, before they go out to ride again. She’s keyed up. She wonders when she’ll be able to go to Koby’s room without anyone noticing. And what’ll she tell Orly? Perhaps she already knows. She’s not naïve, that’s for sure.

  She gets up from the damp grass and brushes off the blades of grass that are clinging to her pants.

  Orly asks if she’s coming and she says yes. She doesn’t feel right saying no. She can at least walk with her to the room. Moments before they go in, she stops. “I’ll join you in a little while,” she says daringly. Her pulse is racing and her mouth feels dry.

  “Are you going to Koby?” Orly winks.

  Her heart misses a beat. She finds her candor irritating. How cold and indifferent can one be? Sometimes she reminds her of Dror. She has no idea why they get along.

  She just smiles and says no. She doesn’t have to tell her everything and she prefers not to ask too many questions of her own, knowing she probably won’t like the answers.

  She knocks on door number twelve. Koby’s not back yet. She sits on the small stone stair by the entrance to the room and waits, like a dog. She feels so humiliated. What is this? They have a date, no? And she’s a mature and independent woman. She also has plans!

  And then he arrives, smiling, cheerful, so good-looking—and alone.

  He opens the door for her and she walks in without saying a word.

  He enters behind her and locks the door, and then without uttering a sound, he grabs her tightly and quickly maneuvers her onto the bed.

  At two-thirty, satisfied and content, she returns to her room. She’s flushed and walking weirdly, like a duck. Her legs are still slightly apart and sensitive. She hopes she’ll recover by morning and be able to ride. Did anyone hear them? She hopes that everyone’s asleep. All she needs now is gossip about her.

  Koby was as charming and attentive as ever. He always knows exactly what to do, how to be the perfect lover. She wishes Dror knew how to touch her like that. Not now, now it’s too late, but years ago, when they were just married. How did she get through twenty years of marriage without being aware that things could be different? And which one is the exception, Dror or Koby? Perhaps both of them.

  When she enters the room Orly is already asleep. She heaves a sigh of relief. The last thing she feels like now is explain herself to Orly.

  She changes her clothes and lies down on her single bed. It’s been years since she slept alone. Maybe it’s time to get used to it. She takes a deep breath and decides for the hundredth time: When she gets home, she’s going to tell Dror that it’s over.

  By the time she falls asleep, it’s close on four. She really hopes she can endure the challenging day ahead of her, with a difficult ride followed by a two-hour drive home. She hopes she can concentrate. Just don’t fall, don’t break anything, don’t have an accident. She can’t do that to the children.

  ***

  The day after she returns, she tells Dror that she wants to talk. The children are at friends, and with Dror still on vacation, she knows it’s time.

  “I’m going to the garage,” he informs her.

  “No, you’re not,” she says in a steady voice, her tenacity surprising even herself, “Sit down, we’ve got to talk.”

  “Then we’ll talk later,” he insists.

  But she insists. “Sit down Dror.”

  He sits down with a huff, and she sits down beside him. Without blinking, she says, “I want a divorce.”

  He snorts, “Oh my god, the crap he puts in your head…”

  She looks at him questioningly.

  “Koby! Koby!” he hollers, “Your undisputed prince. It must be his idea, no?”

  “This has nothing to do with Koby!” she says angrily.

  “You know that he’ll never be yours, right?” he continues, adding insult to injury, “You’re going to be al
l alone, Anat, you’ll see.”

  “This has nothing to do with Koby,” she repeats with restraint, “and I don’t mind being on my own. I haven’t been happy for a long time, Dror. This didn’t begin yesterday.”

  He sniggers again, “I’m not happy either, but get real! Tell me, who is happy these days? How self-indulgent can you be?!”

  She opens her eyes wide, “If we’re both unhappy, Dror, we don’t have to stay in this relationship anymore. It’s not healthy for anyone.”

  “Yes, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles,” he says, “and may I remind you, we have three children to consider.”

  “I can’t stand your defeatist attitude,” she mutters, “What is that, ‘That’s the way the cookie crumbles?’ Life can be different! We are only halfway down the road!”

  “You’re just deluding yourself that you’ll find something better,” he says scornfully, “I don’t know what he tells you, but being divorced is no picnic. And it’s not as if men are going to be lining up for you, if that’s what you think.”

  “I told you,” she repeats, “I’m willing to be on my own. I just cannot share my life with you.” She knows she’s hurting him, but she has to make an impact somehow.

  “I don’t understand where this is coming from,” he says quietly. Maybe she’s finally managed to shake him a little.

  “Dror, we haven’t been happy for years now,” she says softly, “we’re comfortable together, I know. But being comfortable is no longer enough for me. I want more.”

  “You won’t have more, Anat,” he hisses at her, “in fact, you’ll probably have less.”

  “That’s my choice,” she says steadily, “I’ll thank you for respecting it and not making it any more difficult for me. I’ve given this plenty of thought. This is a serious decision, and I’ve thought it out carefully. My mind is made up.”

  “That’s nice of you, to decide on your own. How nice of you to inform me!” he fires at her. “How about a little fairness? What about a little transparency? Why didn’t you talk to me sooner, if the situation has been so terrible?!”

  “Tell me, are you serious?!” she bursts out, “How many times have I suggested we go to a counselor? How many times did I beg you to try to save our relationship?”

  “Therapy is hogwash!” Dror hits the table with his fist, “Not to speak of how much it costs!”

  “Yes, therapy is expensive,” she narrows her eyes in anger, “and that’s what really bothers you! You’re willing to sacrifice our relationship just so you don’t have to spend anything on it, because we have to keep it all for a rainy day, right? For a nest egg to sit on, for treasure!”

  “It’s not at all about the cost,” Dror insists, “but there’s no point in throwing away money on something that won’t help!”

  “Okay,” she takes a deep breath, “so you gave up without trying, you didn’t want therapy, you expressed no willingness to talk. You showed no interest in me or the children or any desire to have a relationship. You can see what’s happening around you, Dror, I know you can. Well, the ostrich approach has stopped working. This is it. It’s over.”

  “Anat, you’re just upset,” he says. “I heard what you have to say, now let things settle. I also have opinions and I’m entitled to express them. I’m half of this marriage, you can’t just get up one morning and tell me to throw it all to hell, you’re not playing anymore! It doesn’t work that way!”

  She accepts what he’s saying. True, she didn’t consult him, but she saw no point to it. He can’t change her mind. She’s determined to divorce him and find the support she needs. He’s nothing but a burden, and she’s a big girl, even if sometimes she doesn’t feel that way.

  ***

  Her body feels numb and heavy, and her eyes are hazy from too many tears. She knocks on his door.

  He opens it and immediately sees she’s upset. He takes her in his arms and kisses the top of her head. “What happened?” he whispers.

  She doesn’t answer, just sobs in his sturdy arms. “I told him,” she eventually answers, “I told him I want a divorce.”

  He holds her away from him for a moment and says, “Well done! I’m proud of you!” and then he hugs her again. “It’s a reason to celebrate, don’t you think?” he adds, “You’re starting a new era.”

  “It’s not a reason to celebrate, and I’m not starting anything,” she says, irritated or maybe just exhausted. “It’s more complicated than that, Koby. I don’t need to tell you That divorce is no party. I have a long, complicated road ahead of me and I’m not sure I can bear it.”

  “I’ll be here for you,” he says, “I promised you I’d be here anytime you want to talk. I can’t give you more than that, I’ve told you before, but I’m always here to cheer you up.”

  “I’m not sure that’s enough,” she says and blows her nose on a ragged tissue she finds in her purse.

  He ignores that and asks, “How did he react?”

  “He said that he has to think about it, that he also has a say in the matter…that I can’t just drop bombshell on him like that…”

  Koby sighs, “I hope he won’t dissuade you from your decision. I know how hard it was for you to make it.”

  She nods. She hopes so too. She hopes she’ll have enough strength to deal with what the future holds.

  “How about a cup of coffee?” he asks gently.

  “Tea,” she says, and he goes to the kitchen to fill the kettle.

  ***

  The next day, after the children go to bed, he asks for a moment of her time.

  She sits on their creaky bed and wonders what he could want.

  “I want to try counseling before we untie the knot,” he says, his voice serious.

  She looks into his empty, watery eyes, and she still can’t see any expression in them. And yet, something in her wants to protect him. She feels flattered that he’s prepared to see a counselor.

  “I thought you didn’t believe in it,” she says curtly.

  “I’ve thought about it again,” he says, “it’s worth a shot. I’m willing to fight.”

  “I think it’s a bit too late to fight,” she says wearily and then asks, “and who’ll pay? It costs a fortune.”

  “My parents,” he says without blinking, and she can’t help but burst into uncontrollable laughter.

  “Your parents,” she repeats.

  “I spoke with them yesterday,” he says with cold, calm restraint, “they also think we should try to save our relationship, Anat. We’ve been married for twenty years. We have three children. It’s not something you throw away in a single day.”

  She exhales, the air comes out in a desperate giggle. “Where have you been all in these years, Dror, that you can call it a single day?”

  “Anat,” he tries again, “are you prepared to try? Just a few sessions, no more. Let’s see where it leads.”

  “I’ll think about it,” she responds, dryly wishes him a good night and goes to Ido’s room. She’s already made up the bed for herself. Ido will be home for the weekend and then she’ll have to go back to their double bed and play happy family for a little longer.

  ***

  She’s been invited to Edna and Avner’s place.

  When she arrives, she finds Avner sitting on the deep, pale sofa with Dror beside him. David and Tzila are sitting on the side sofa.

  “What is this, an intervention?” she asks, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

  “Sit down, Anat,” Edna says, “would you like something to drink?”

  “What I mainly want is to know what I’m doing here,” she says impatiently, scanning the room. She sits down, but on the edge of the sofa, ready to jump up at any moment.

  “Dror told us that you want to get divorced,” Edna begins and sits down next to her. No doubt she’s behind all this. How dare she interfere?!She al
ways was the leader of the pack. She twists David and Tzila around her baby finger, and not only them, Avner and Dror too. She makes all the decisions.

  “I don’t see what business it is of yours,” she mumbles. She wishes she were stronger. She hopes she’ll be able to stand her ground for once.

  “It’s our business because the two of you are part of the family,” Edna says serenely, “and in this family, we help each other.”

  “It’s a little late to remember that,” she says, her foot bouncing nervously.

  “We know a wonderful therapist,” Edna continues, as if she hadn’t heard, “he’s genial, and sensitive…he did an amazing job with a couple of our friends.”

  “We’ll pay,” Tzila finally opens her mouth, “don’t worry, Anati, it’s a gift from us.”

  She raises an eyebrow. How generous, how nice of them to give her and Dror something after so many years. They give Edna and Avner everything, they even gave them the money to buy the sofa she’s sitting on.

  “I’m asking you to give it one last chance, Anat,” Dror says quietly.

  She’s surprised. She finds it strange that he’s talking, that he’s prepared to grovel. She finds it admirable. And anyway, what can she say, when she’s under attack? She can’t really refuse.

  “I don’t understand why you had to get everyone involved,” she says, mainly to Edna, “how about a little privacy, a little tact! For years you’ve been observing us, why wake up now?”

  “Anat, really, we didn’t want to interfere before,” Edna interlaces her fingers, “but Dror told us,” she sighs, “and it broke our hearts.”

  She looks at her, unable to hide the hatred in her eyes. She doesn’t believe a single word. “Fine,” she says curtly, just to get them off her back, “I’ll give it a few sessions. Dror can make an appointment. Now can we put an end to this show?”

  “It’s not a show, bubbalah, Tzila says, “we love you! We love you all! What will happen to the children? Why put them through such pain?”

  “I already said I’m prepared to hear what your illustrious therapist has to say,” she says and stands up, “so let’s skip the drama for now, okay?”