An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (18 page)

I take a step toward the house, but she pulls me back and hugs me. "I said this before, but you didn't listen. Get back to being the real Renee. I don't like this wimp thing you've got going on."

But I'm not a wimp. Now I know the answer to Jalal's question why I showed him the photos. It wasn't to ask about those women in his past. It was to warn him he'd better not have one in his present.

As he always does, Jalal prepares a wonderful meal, but for me the joy of having my little house filled with love and laughter overrides the food. Adam and Mia Grace are on their best behavior for Granny and Dardo during the first half of the meal, but they wiggle and fuss through the second. As soon as I'll allow it, Jennie takes them from the table.

I help her get settled with the kids in the living room and then I return to the kitchen. Tuning into the conversation late, I hear Eduardo say, "… close the restaurant and get out of town."

"You're selling Jennie's?" I ask, shocked.

They pause, both looking puzzled.

"Didn't you just say 'close down the restaurant'?"

Eduardo laughs.

"For a vacation," Jalal says, "not permanently."

"Oh. On the bike?" I ask Eduardo.

"No," he says, "I'd like to take Jennie on a real vacation. We haven't been on one since our honeymoon."

"I sympathize," Jalal says. "I wanted to take Renee somewhere for our anniversary, but she said no."

"Because Mia Grace isn't old enough for me to leave."

"Well, Jennie doesn't have that excuse," Eduardo says. "She just doesn't trust anyone else to run the restaurant."

"She'll trust me," I say. "We'll stay here, and Jalal can watch the kids." Eduardo looks from me to Jalal, who's staring at me. It's obvious Jalal doesn't agree with my plan, but his eyes also say he thinks we should discuss it in private.

"Jennie would never approve of that," Eduardo says. "She wouldn't want to take you away from the babies."

"Damn right," calls Jennie, who's evidently been listening to every word.

In seconds, Adam is at Jalal's side, whispering something to him. My guess is confirmed when Jalal says, "No. I think Granny is too old for time outs."

"I'm sorry, Adam," Jennie says and then adds, "You need to modify that bad words list, Jalal."

Laughter dances in Eduardo's eyes. "It would be easier to wrestle a grizzly than put Jennie in a timeout," he says.

"And don't you forget it," Jennie says.

Jalal tilts his chair back so he can see her. "Does the first week in November work for you?"

"For what?"

"For you to close the restaurant and take a vacation."

Jennie comes into the kitchen with Mia Grace perched on her hip. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because I'm not getting any younger and I want to enjoy a few uninterrupted days with the love of my life," Eduardo says.

Jennie turns away, but not before her eyes glisten. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she says, "if it means that much to you … but after Thanksgiving is better."

Seize the day. It's time to get real. Who knows how many years Jalal and I have together? I have to stop this jealousy nonsense and move on. I'm the love of Jalal's life; he tells me so in a thousand ways. I will
not
let my craziness ruin what we have.

"This time I mean it," I tell Jalal as we leave Bahía. "I'm going to take the kids to visit with Jennie more often. It kills me to see how hard it is for her to say goodbye to them."

"You have a hard time leaving too."

I agree in silence because I'll cry if we talk about it. I have to find a way to keep Jennie in my life but accept that my home is in Coelho now. Maybe it would feel like home if I redecorated, like Jalal told me to. Surely Judith won't object to helping me feel like I fit in in my own house. My house, not Meredith's. Our house, not Jalal's.

"Ow! No no, Mee-Grays."

I whip around, rising to my knees while Jalal only checks the rear-view mirror and calmly asks, "What happened, Adam?"

"She hit me."

"Sister didn't mean to hurt you," I say, leaning into the back seat. Adam hands over Mia Grace's toy, and I place it in her hand. "Don't throw." Already we're dealing with squabbles. Poor Adam doesn't know this is only the beginning of dealing with a baby sister. I sit back in my seat thinking of
my
baby sister. "Have you heard anything more on Amber?" I ask Jalal.

"Uh … Nathan said it might take a while."

"You said he would call yesterday."

"Well, I guess he must not have any new information."

Jalal's lying. I say nothing and wait. After a minute he glances sideways at me. "Now tell me the truth," I say. He sighs and combs his fingers back through his hair, letting his hand rest on the crown of his head for a moment. My heart rate rises. It's bad news again.

"Nathan sent a text," he says, "but I was waiting to get home before I called him for the full story."

"He was wrong, wasn't he? The girl he found wasn't Amber."

"No. I mean, yes he found Amber. She lives in Maryland."

"For god's sake, just tell me the bad news."

"Wait until I—"

"Now."

He takes my hand and says, "Her parents refused contact."

"Oh." I turn away and stare at the road stretched for miles before us as though I might see the barrier that prevents me reaching Maryland. "Her parents are probably right. They know what kind of family she came from. Why would they want her exposed to that?"

"You are the only one she would be 'exposed' to. How is that bad?"

"For all they know, I could be like Becky. Like Nicole."

"But you—"

"I might have been just like Nicole if I'd stayed in that neighborhood. I could easily have become a drug addict, a prostitute, whatever …
some
member of the criminal element."

Jalal says nothing and turns his attention back to driving. What can he say? He was right; I shouldn't have pushed him to tell me. Of course her parents don't want her anywhere near me. If I were them, I'd refuse contact too. I'm so wrapped up in self-pity I don't realize Jalal's pulled over and stopped until he speaks again.

"Why are you so down on yourself?" he says. "If you were going to become an addict or a prostitute you would have. Leaving that 'neighborhood' was your choice, Renee, because you wanted a better life."

"Maybe Nicole didn't have a choice."

"Maybe not. But you did and you took it. And Amber was given a chance at a good life too."

"Two out of four."

"Do we know that yet? It could be three out of four. And Nathan is still trying with Amber's parents. I know it hurts that you may never be part of her life, but you are not to blame for that. Be happy for her."

"I am," I say and smile because I mean that. If Amber has a wonderful life, it's keeping the balance. It's justice for Nicole's life. Jalal starts the car moving again. I don't have much hope left for a joyful reunion with Brandon. Maybe I'm getting my wish after all. If all the people in my past are erased, maybe I didn't exist then, either.

A
n hour after we arrive back in Coelho, Aza and Paul announce their engagement party will be in Seattle—in four days. Since marrying into this family, I've gotten used to their impulsive actions, so I launch into unpacking, doing laundry, and repacking our bags without complaint. I only hope Aza gives us at least a week's break before she announces we have to fly back up there for the wedding. The Vaziris could keep a small airline in the black, no problem.

Jalal finds me in the upstairs laundry room. He has a file folder in his hand. "I just talked to Nathan. He sent Amber's parents more details about us and assured them we will not try to contact her against their wishes. They responded. Do you want to see? There are photos."

I lean back against the dryer and hold out my hand. Her first name is still Amber, but no last name is listed. Neither is there any contact information, not even the name of the town she lives in. Apparently, her parents didn't trust Jalal's credentials completely. Amber's a freshman in high school, where she's an honor student and a cheerleader. The first photo shows her dressed in her cheer uniform, but the school logo is blurred out. She's gorgeous, still blonde, with no resemblance to me or Becky. I could have met her anywhere and not known who she was. The other photos track backward through her life. The earliest shows the Amber I remember, though a little plumper, healthier. It's a studio photo, taken with a man and woman whose faces are blurred. Her adoptive parents, evidently. Their first family photo.

Amber smiles in each shot. How soon did she forget her birth family? If her parents told her I was looking for her, would my name even stir a vague memory? She's my sister, but she's not. I have no right to intrude. Her parents are right to protect her. "It looks like she's had a good life," I say, handing the folder back to Jalal. "I'm happy for her."

"Do you want to pursue—"

"No. That would be selfish. I just needed to know what happened to her. I can let her go now." But I will never forget her.

Jalal hugs me. "I'm sorry you lost your sisters, sweet love. But I feel good about your brother. Nathan will find him soon."

"Mm-hmm." I appreciate Jalal's sympathy, but he can't relate. He's imagining what it would feel like if one of his sisters died or another cut him out of her life. Though deep inside I never moved past the shock of being separated from my brother and sisters, on the surface I accepted I'd never see them again. They haven't been real to me for a long time.

I don't share Jalal's optimism, either. Even if I do find Brandon, we'll be like childhood friends meeting at a school reunion and realizing we have nothing in common except a few memories. And with a childhood like we had, our collective memory would be a swamp floating up rotting corpses.

"Let me finish the laundry." I try to squirm out of Jalal's embrace, but he hugs me tighter. A moan rises from deep inside me. I will never see my sisters again. Never. Never. Never. Jalal rocks me in his arms and kisses my hair while I cry.

Adam calls Jalal's father Old Baba. None of us taught him to do that. Since the first time Adam sat in Korush's lap, that's been his favorite spot when we're in Seattle. Jalal, who lived most of his life in fear and resentment of his father, believes Adam is making up for that somehow. Whatever the reason, the relationship between Adam and Korush pleases all three of them. It certainly makes it easier on me when we visit.

Korush and Nasrin's house is the central meeting place for the Vaziri family—all forty-two of them, including spouses. When we're in Seattle, it's not unusual to find twenty or so family members and friends in the house most of the day. Food is plentiful, always in some state of preparation in the kitchen, or carried in by these visitors, and there's an interesting conversation or activity taking place at all times. I love our visits, but all the happy chaos makes it hard to keep track of Mia Grace. Korush always has Adam or knows who does, but Mia Grace gets passed around because everyone wants a taste of baby sweetness.

Jalal's no help this visit. He keeps disappearing to huddle with Jason and Ryan or his brothers and father. I have no clue what they're discussing because there's an obvious quick change of subject whenever I get within hearing range. Of course Jalal gives me a non-answer when I ask what's up, but I'm not imagining things because Nasrin is keeping her eye on these huddles too. I guess I'll know when I know.

Right now, it's naptime for the kids. Adam and Korush are dozing together in the recliner, but I've lost sight of Mia Grace. I find Aza and Paul in the dining room, sitting at the table with Shadi and her husband, either the last to eat lunch or the first to try the afternoon snacks. "Have you seen my daughter," I ask. Shadi points her fork at Aza.

"She was with the girls outside and fell asleep," Aza says. "Kristen put her in the crib."

"Oh. Well … that's good."

"Renee's having a hard time with Mia Grace weaning herself," Aza says, and I turn away, conscious that everyone's looking at my breasts.

"Don't go," Shadi says. "Sit with us. Ray will get you a plate."

Her dutiful husband rises and though I'd like to refuse, I've learned they'll feel insulted if I do. "Just a little," I tell him.

"What is my brother up to?" Shadi asks.

She's the no-nonsense sister, so I'm not surprised when she wastes no time revealing what's on her mind. "I haven't a clue what he's talking to all the men about," I say.

"I do," Azadeh says. "Well, at least, I know he's asking Ryan and Jason about the classes they're taking."

"Excuse me," Shadi says to Aza. "That's not what I meant." She turns back to me. "Is Jalal writing?"

"Yes." My tone is a little defensive because her question felt like a slap. The truth is, I've been too wrapped up in the kids and my insecurities to even wonder what Jalal's working on. "He spends plenty of time in his office."

Shadi narrows her eyes. "I'd say he's not writing, Renee."

"Why do you say that?" Aza asks.

Shadi shakes her head in disgust. "You both live with him, but do either of you ever look at him?"