After spending an hour with her, I no longer cared if I was her tenth attorney; I was on board. As lovely and enchanting as she was, my body was telling me I’d handle her case for free.
With Fariba’s permission, I called Tony’s attorney asking for a four-way meeting to try and settle the case. He agreed to talk to his client.
After I got off the phone, I looked at Fariba.
“Since there’s no property to divide, a face-to-face conference might help resolve the custody issues; saving you additional legal fees.”
We talked about the court’s preference for shared custody time. Initially, she resisted this arrangement leaving me with the impression of having some hidden issues between her and Tony.
Later that day, Tony’s attorney called back; we arranged for a meeting to take place at my office the following week.
On the day of the meeting, we met in my conference room. We spent time discussing a parenting plan. Periodically, I looked over at Fariba; she had a great deal of stress on her face. When I saw tears in her eyes, I asked for a short break and took her into my private office.
“Fariba, what’s wrong?”
Her head dropped and she started crying; then she looked into my eyes. “I feel the loss of my family; I’m a failure. No one in my family has ever been divorced and I feel so ashamed.”
“Fariba, I understand your feelings. Several years ago, I went through a divorce. I felt that same sense of shame; I too was the first person in my family to be divorced. But Fariba, I think there’s more on your mind. What is it?”
Her face became sadder as more tears rolled down her cheeks.
“It’s Tony. I’ll never forgive him for what he did to me.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not now. Let’s settle the case. You’re right; this has been torture for me and I feel bad about all the money my parents paid to my attorneys. I need to put this behind me and move on.”
We walked back into my conference room and settled the case. To memorialize the agreement, I drafted the terms on my office computer and both parties signed it. Fariba was relieved it was over, but she still had an unsettled look in her eyes.
After Tony and his attorney left, I turned to Fariba.
“Fariba, what happened between you and Tony?”
She gathered up her courage before she spoke.
“Tony was the man of my dreams,” she revealed. “He was very handsome, extremely kind, and it seemed like he was deeply in love with me. The happiest day of my life was the day we married. Eighteen months later, I gave birth to Amir. I thought the birth of our child would bring us as close as two people could be.
“The truth was, after Amir was born, Tony pulled away from me. I figured it was because he had to share my time with our son. But the pulling away increased; he was away for long periods of time in the late afternoon and evening. This worried me and I didn’t know what to do.
“One Sunday morning, I told Tony I was taking Amir for a drive out of town to see my cousin and that I’d be back in the evening.
“As I drove away, I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach; something told me to go back. After driving about twenty minutes, I turned around and went home. I got Amir from the backseat, opened our front door, and quietly walked through the rooms looking for Tony. As I moved toward our bedroom, I stopped at the door. Tony was in bed with someone else – a man.
“I ran out of the house with Amir, drove to my parents’ house, and have been there ever since.”
I took Fariba into my arms and hugged her. She started to cry and thanked me for listening. Without thinking, I said, “I want to talk to you more, come to dinner with me tonight.”
Fariba broke our hold, stared into my eyes as she formed a faint smile, “All right. I would love that.”
I arrived at Fariba’s two-story townhouse at seven-thirty; we had an eight o’clock reservation at a local restaurant. I knocked on her door and was greeted by an elderly Persian man who spoke only a few words of English. He invited me in, directing me to the couch in the living room. Once I was seated, he took a seat on a chair facing me. A few minutes later, an elderly Persian woman entered the room. I rose to greet her as she acknowledged me and sat down on another chair facing me.
We settled into silence that seemed to last a long time. Finally, the stillness was broken when a younger Persian man entered the room and smiled at me; he spoke English.
“Hi, I’m Jacob. I’m Fariba’s brother and these are my parents.” He translated for his parents and they nodded at me. He sat down on a third chair across from me.
This wasn’t what I expected. I assumed I’d pick up Fariba and we’d leave for the restaurant. Instead, I was facing the pre-event screening committee.
Finally, Fariba descended the stairway leading to the living room. She looked like a Persian Goddess wearing a beautiful black dress that accentuated her lovely figure. As she smiled at me, I rose to greet her. My first instinct was to hug her, but considering the others, I just rose. Fariba came over to the couch, kissed me lightly on each cheek, and sat next to me.
“These are my parents and my brother Jacob. I come from a traditional Persian Jewish family. It’s customary for my family to meet the man who is going to take me out.”
“Thank you for telling me; I’m not used to this. I come from a very non-traditional American Jewish family. As a rule, my parents never know who I go out with. Your brother Jacob introduced me to your parents.”
When her mother spoke Farsi; Fariba turned her head toward her mother and listened attentively. Then she nodded, got up, and went to the kitchen. Again, we waited in uncomfortable silence.
“How long have you and your family been in the United States?” I asked Jacob to ease the tension.
Jacob interpreted my question for his parents, his father spoke, and he nodded while turning back to me.
“We left Iran in 1979 except for my brother Eli. He is still there; we’re hoping he’ll soon leave and join us.”
“Are you happy to be in the United States?”
“Oh, yes,” Jacob said with a wide smile. “We are very happy here. After the Shah left Iran, our lives changed; we had to leave. We miss Iran, but we’re happy in Los Angeles; there’s a large Persian community here.”
Fariba returned from the kitchen with a tray of pistachio nuts, oranges, and glasses of water. She looked at me with her welcoming smile.
“Would you like water or something to eat?”
“No, thank you,” I responded. Refreshments were a nice gesture, but I didn’t want to prolong my stay in her house.
When Fariba’s mother spoke again, Fariba listened and said, “Baleh.”
Fariba picked up an orange and started to peel it. Her workmanship was perfect; the entire peel came off in one piece. She was obviously well trained in orange peeling, but I couldn’t figure out why she would want to eat an orange when we would be leaving soon for dinner. Maybe it was a Persian fertility rite. Unable to control my curiosity, I asked why she peeled the orange.
“My mother told me to peel one for you,” responding like a Stepford Wife.
I had never experienced anything like this before and my facial expression probably told her so. “Thank you, Fariba, but I can peel my own orange.”
“In my culture, we’re supposed to offer food and drink to our guests. It would be disrespectful not to peel an orange for you.”
“Fariba, that’s very considerate, but we need to leave for the restaurant.”
I had to take control so I rose; I thanked her parents and shook hands with her father and Jacob.
I turned, ushering Fariba out the door to the sanctuary of the cool nighttime air.
Once we got out of her house, we had a pleasant evening. Fariba was very easy to talk to; looking attentively at me when I spoke. We spent much of the ti
me talking about my past as I told her about some of the funny things that happened in my life. She laughed in all the right places.
The following week, we went out again. This time I avoided the screening committee. We drove north along Pacific Coast Highway to a restaurant in a small beach community called Trancas. There was a comfortable ease to the evening; we looked out from our beach side table and enjoyed our Mexican/seafood cuisine.
Just before we left the restaurant, I went around to her side of the table and kissed her lightly on the lips. She looked at me with loving eyes and whispered, “I loved that; I want to spend the whole night with you.”
This seemed like a repeat; didn’t this same thing happen with Molly? There must be something in the ocean air that makes women amorous; I had to remember that.
With her words ringing in my ears, my hormones took over for my brain; I quickly responded, “Fariba, let’s leave.”
My mood escalated as we drove back down the coast highway. I decided not to make the trek back to my house in the Valley. Instead, I remembered an inn we passed on our way to the restaurant, located it, and made a sweeping left turn from the middle lane of the highway to a parking space in front of the office. Like lightning, I was out of the car, checking in, and in the room.
Once the door was closed, I took her into my arms.
Making love to Fariba was slow and tender; her lips were full and her body excited me. When our lovemaking was through, I felt physically satisfied.
Chapter 34
“Jake, I see you’re spending time with a Persian Goddess, yet I know something is missing. Is it the same something that’s has been missing in almost all of these relationships?”
“Yes, Dr. Fox. Something was missing in each one of them. Fariba was beautiful, giving and kind, but she lacked a passion for life. The only time I ever saw her display any zest or emotion was when she dealt with her divorce and the anger she felt toward Tony for betraying her. Other than that, talking to her was like talking to someone who’d just taken a tranquilizer.
“Also, I didn’t respect her. She didn’t work and she seemed to find her identity through a mate; I didn’t want to be anyone’s identity. I wanted a woman of substance; a woman who knows who she is and takes pride in her own accomplishments.”
Dr. Fox gave me a strong nod of approval. “Exactly right! Jake, you get it.”
“There is something else I realize. I think I have gone as far as I can with our sessions. I think the time is right for me to fly solo. As much as the sessions have been great and I’ve come to rely on you as my safety net for life; I think I need to move on provided you’ll let me return if I need to.”
“Jake, I understand. I’m glad you feel confident. Of course, you can always come back.”
She paused to collect her thoughts for this last session.
“But, before we say good-bye, I’ll give you my parting words of advice to help you on your journey. It’s not just a journey to find your soul mate. It is, most importantly, a journey to keep discovering who you are.”
I started to feel a little scared and anxious to be alone. Yet, I was comfortable in what I’d learned through my sessions knowing I had accomplished a lot by sharing my relationships with Dr. Fox.
“First of all, Jake, you will continue to grow if you keep ‘digging’ into your being. This is the most important thing. As to the women in your life, past and those to come, I want to share a few comments with you.
“Let’s begin with Annette, the mature woman from New Zealand. I know you had a satisfying physical relationship with her, but you know now sex is not enough to sustain a relationship. Without substance, sex is an unconnected hollow act. Unfortunately, you resisted her attempts to try and expand your relationship with emotional bonds because you had no clue what she was saying to you. I think the true significance of that relationship is since childhood you’ve been missing a loving woman in your life. In some ways, she was the mother you never had.”
“How can you say that?” I rushed to say. “I never thought of her as a mother image.”
“I understand,” she laughed. “I thought you might be put off by that, but it is obvious Annette was only able to nurture your male libido. She had important things to teach you, and, eventually, some of those lessons sunk into your brain by the way you attempted to communicate with Molly. So Jake, keep thinking about what Annette taught you about sharing and understanding feelings.
“With your other relationships, especially your ex-wife Diana, you have chosen needy women who looked to you to be the dominate figure. They were not the right type of women for you.
“Many of these women gave in to you because they admired you. They saw a tall good-looking man with serious life goals and success written all over him. But, they brought very little to the relationship because they weren’t strong women successful in their own right. When you push on these women, they collapse. You need a woman who will push you back. Look at Fariba and Molly. They both lacked direction in their lives; they needed a man to lean on who would take care of them. You need a woman to respect. You need a partnership with a woman.
“I want you to remember what I’m going to tell you. There are some very accomplished women who cannot find the right man because many men are intimidated by such women. But, a man who is secure in his own right can enjoy and flourish with this type of woman.
“Now, I’m going to discuss another aspect to relationships you must understand if you are going to find your true soul mate; though it will probably take some time for you to realize the full extent of what I am going to say.
“Relationships have many layers. Except for what Annette tried to talk to you about, you never got past the first layer with anyone. To go deeper, to have a relationship enriched with understanding and love, a relationship where you can partner with a woman, you need to unlock the deep emotional levels of your beings. When you do that, you’ll find such joy and you’ll experience life through a new sense. I propose this as your goal: To have an enriched loving relationship.
“So, what’s the prescription for now? The answer is: Learn about yourself with the goal of being secure. With that knowledge, you’ll be able to recognize a potential mate when she comes along.
“Jake, I have enjoyed our sessions. I must say when we first met; I had no idea where we would end up. You have done a fine job and have helped me understand you; I feel a strong sense of accomplishment. Now, you must learn to fly without me; you have the wings to fly.
Good luck, Jake.
Chapter 35
1992 to 1996
Following that last session with Dr. Fox, there was a revolving door of women; they barely satisfied my sexual desires.
I can’t recall a worthwhile memory from any of them.
Chapter 36
1996-1997
I had an Israeli client named Lior, a real estate developer who served time in state prison for bank fraud. After his release, he came to see me. A client of mine asked if I’d help Lior get back on his feet.
Lior told me about his past; wanting me to represent him. He was planning to build single-family homes in the San Fernando Valley.
Once I agreed to be his lawyer, Lior immediately arranged for the financing from his father, a developer of condominium projects in Israel.
As soon as his funding became available, Lior purchased property in the West Valley and his housing development became a reality. Within two years, he was ready to sell houses. The timing was perfect, prices were up, and demand was high; his development was a huge success. Within a few weeks, all of his homes were sold leaving Lior with a big profit.
His next project was to develop a housing tract in North Las Vegas. Again, his timing was right; Las Vegas and its surrounding communities had become the fastest growing area in the country. All of these homes were pre-sold months before construction was completed. This second su
ccessful development added to his fortune.
After Las Vegas, Lior bought land in Agoura Hills to develop another tract of single-family homes. Agoura Hills is located in Los Angeles County, an area whose development lagged behind the rest of the county. Its countryside had gently rolling hills dotted with large oak trees.
Lior was flying high, flush with money. When he decided to move his operation to an office building adjacent to the Van Nuys Airport; to aid in his constant traveling, he purchased a jet airplane.
In September 1996, with three other passengers aboard, Lior planned to fly to San Luis Obispo on his new jet. On board was his eldest son from a prior marriage, his son’s friend, and one of his employees.
They never made it. His plane crashed a few miles from the airport; all passengers were killed. It was a foggy morning; the FAA reported that the plane was flying too low and hit trees. At the crash site, Lior was found in the pilot’s seat. As an inexperienced pilot; he shouldn’t have been piloting the plane.
Lior wasn’t an easy client to deal with, although I enjoyed the fast pace as he worked to get his developments completed. He worked hard; he deserved all the success he achieved, but he had a reckless side and lived life as a fatalist. Unfortunately, for him and the others on the plane, he was also stubborn. He crashed because he flew too low to maintain visual contact with the airport; he learned to fly that way as a helicopter pilot. His employee, a passenger on this flight, was an excellent jet plane pilot; this trip could have been without incident.
The morning of the crash, I was in my office when a call came from Lior’s secretary. She was so upset I had a hard time understanding what she was saying. As soon as I did, I rushed over to their office to take charge of running his company until Lior’s father arrived from Israel.
The Light in My Heart Page 14