An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (32 page)

Jalal rears back as though punched. "I do not deserve that." He combs his fingers back through his hair, and grasps the crown of his head. We stare at each other across the expanse of lawn that will one day blanket the graves of our family. "How did we come to this?" he asks.

When I say nothing, he deflates with a sigh. After a moment, he turns his back on me and walks away.

As if all my oxygen got caught in his wake, I gulp air and sink to the bench, facing Meredith's monument again. I'm so cold. I cross my arms, hugging myself. "How can he ask me that?"

My children call me home. I don't want them to pay for all the craziness between me and Jalal. We have to keep their lives as normal as possible until we work out the next steps. When I walk in the house, Jalal is alone in the playroom with the kids. I join them and Mia Grace climbs on my lap and pulls up my shirt. It's the middle of the afternoon and she wants to nurse. That's regression. I have to take control of my life for my kids' sake.

"Look, Mama," Adam says. He grins and points to a tower made of his giant Lego blocks.

"Did you build that all by yourself?"

Adam nods, then glances sideways at Jalal who says, "Tell the truth, Adam."

"Me and Baba Daddy builded it."

"Great job," I say. "It's fantastic." Too bad your father can't tell the truth.

"Will you be all right with them?" Jalal asks me. "I need to prep the vegetables for the stew."

"I'm fine." See? We can handle this new relationship. We just have to put the kids first. Mia Grace pulls away from my breast, but she makes no move to get down. I call to Jalal, "Did they have TV time after their naps?"

"No." He walks back and looks at me oddly. "Did you forget their schedule is off today because they napped before lunch? They finished eating about ten minutes before you came back."

I reach for the remote and turn on the TV.

"Do you know what time it is, Renee?"

"Of course I do." I glance at the cable box. I'm surprised that it reads only 12:47, but I don't show it. He thinks I've lost touch with reality. Is that what he's telling everyone?

Adam pulls on the leg of my jeans. "I not like this, Mama."

He's watching some stupid shopping network because I forgot to turn to Nick Jr. "I'm sorry, sweetie." I change channels, aware that Jalal is still standing there. I refuse to look at him. Finally, he goes back to the kitchen, evidently satisfied he has proof that I'm crazy.

What I am is exhausted. I can't sleep when Jalal's not beside me, but I can't stand for him to be that close. I force down the lump forming in my throat. No more crying. I set Mia Grace in her play corral and walk over to the island where Jalal's working. Then I just stand there because I don't know what to say. What are the new rules? He lays the knife down on his cutting board and slides it across to me. Slicing the carrots reminds me I haven't eaten all day. No wonder I'm acting like a crazy woman.

Before I finish the carrots, Jalal sets a plate of cheese and fruit next to me and takes the cutting board back. He knows me so well. That's how he seems to read my mind. I've gotten used to him taking care of me. I've never let anyone do that before. Not even Jennie. I let my guard down with Jalal. He knows me so well. How can he hurt me like this? My throat closes again and I can't swallow the grape in my mouth. Everything blurs. I spit the grape in my hand and a sound like a sob comes with it.

"Go take a nap," he says. "Aza is upstairs if I need help."

He knows me so well.

W
hen I woke that first morning in the foster home, I was so completely disoriented I thought I was dreaming with my eyes open. I'd like to think this is a dream now, but I know where I am. I'm lying in the master suite of a home I was never meant to live in. I'm married to a man who was never meant to be my husband. But the two children I gave birth to were meant to be mine. No one will ever take them from me, not CPS to a foster home certainly, but not even Jalal.

I'm not crazy. My imagination may have distorted some things this year, but I know what I saw last night. Every time I try to tell myself I made more of it than I should, I see Diane's triumphant smile. What I feared, what I suspected, has become reality. Now I have to figure out my next move.

Dinner is surreal. It's just the four of us, two innocent children and two adults pretending all is right with their world. But the wires are twisting.

Jalal and I move side-by-side as if a massive fissure hasn't opened between us. We clean up after dinner. We bathe the kids, dress them for bed, have story time, and kiss them goodnight. Normal. Normal. Normal.

I straighten up the playroom. Jalal checks the doors and sets the alarm. He sets his phone on the charger in the kitchen. I go back upstairs and put a load of clothes to wash. Normal. Normal. Normal.

Then he goes to his bed and I go to mine. Not normal at all.

In self-protection, my body shut down and I slept through the night. I wake before the sun and make breakfast for everyone. I feel stronger. I've made a decision. I don't know how everything will work out, but I'm taking charge. If Jalal can look me in the eye and say he's done nothing wrong, it's because truth is in the mind of the teller. In his eyes, if he's guilty of anything, it's only being flirtatious—something that comes natural to him. So I have to face my truth. It's up to me to make the next move.

I'm going to do what I should have done two months ago—confront Diane. Adam begged Jalal to take them back to the zoo today. When they leave, I'm going to the college. If Diane's not there, I'll go to her apartment. Whatever it takes, we're having it out today.

Adam hops down the stairs and into the kitchen. Jalal follows, holding Mia Grace by the hand as she slowly makes her way. My two little babies are growing so fast. She'll be a year old in six weeks, and emulating Adam makes her seem even older. We've lived here a year. How is that possible? Adam heads straight to the door. "Hold on, little man. Don't I get a hug and kiss goodbye?" He runs back to me.

"And you have to get your coat on," Jalal says.

"But it's warm." Adam points to the window.

"Silly," I say, "you know it's cold in winter, even when the sun shines." I hug him and kiss him until he giggles. When I release him, he runs to Jalal waiting by the coat rack. A few minutes later, Jalal stops to let me kiss Mia Grace, and then he bends slightly toward me before our eyes meet and we both pull back. Habit. I look away and he moves past me. "Have a good time," I call after them.

Before Jalal came downstairs this morning, I checked his phone for Diane's number. It was there, of course, but no texts between them. No evidence. It doesn't matter because whatever they started ends today.

I go to the main office on campus and a helpful young man tells me Diane's first class of the day starts in forty minutes, but she's usually in her office by now. He also marks that location on a photocopied map of the campus, asks where I'm parked, and shows me a walking shortcut so I won't have to move my car. He's so helpful, I feel a little guilty that he's making my ambush easier.

The Fates must be on my side today because Diane pulls into the parking lot just as I reach the building. She's gathering her things and doesn't notice I've walked up beside her car until she opens her door. Her eyes flash surprise, and then she fakes a smile. "I never imagined I'd see
you
here."

"I won't be for long."

"Good because my class starts in ten minutes."

"No, your class starts at ten thirty." She gives me the bitch version of Kristen's eye rolling, and I make a fist to keep from raking my nails down her face. "I'll keep this short and to the point. Leave Jalal alone."

"Leave him alone?"

"I know what you're trying to do, so stop."

She shuts her car door and turns back to me with the same long-suffering, smirk I imagine she gives to clueless students.

"What is it you think I'm trying to do, Renee?"

"Break up my marriage,
Diane
."

She shakes her head, sighing. "Have you discussed this with Jalal?"

"There's no reason to. And I'm not
discussing
it with you. I'm telling you to quit calling him and quit making up excuses to show up at our door."

"I don't need excuses to talk to Jalal. He enjoys our conversations."

"He's just being polite."

"Really?" She laughs. "Surely you don't think he hasn't encouraged me."

"Listen, bitch—"

"No, you listen, you skanky, lowbrow, lunatic. Jalal makes his own choices. You have nothing to do with it. Now get out of my way." She shoves me aside and walks past me before I can stop her.

"Diane."

She whirls around, glaring. "What do you want now?"

"Leave Jalal alone."

"You're pathetic." She takes a step back toward me. "I'm going to give you a reality check, and then you'd better stay the hell away from me. I don't know what kind of spell you put on Jalal to make him marry you, but he couldn't have made a worse choice. You are nothing but dead weight. He needs someone like me, someone who can give him the support and inspiration he needs. And just so you know the real score here—I love that painting in your beach house. The Paris street scene. At the end of Jalal's bed. You know the one I mean?"

She turns away and marches into the building.

I don't know how long I stand there staring at the door before I realize she could be watching me, gloating. My face flames, but I'm ice inside. I start walking back the way I came. My feet are moving, but they don't feel connected to me. I'm empty. I'm just the shape of Renee, like an untouched figure in one of Adam's coloring books.

Diane's been in my house. In my bed. With Jalal. I make it to the closest trash can just in time to vomit my breakfast. A girl behind me offers her opinion, "Gross." I sink down on a nearby bench and stare at the sidewalk below me.

In my house.

In my bed.

With Jalal.

I'm so cold. I can't lift my head. Feet, so many feet, pass by, oblivious to mine. Two stop.

"Are you all right, miss?" I force myself to look up. An old man peers down at me. "You don't look well," he says. "Do you want me to call someone?" He pulls his phone from his pocket.

"No." I stand up too fast and he grabs my arm to keep me from falling.

"I should get you help."

"No." I force a smile. "I was a little queasy, but it's passed, now."

He looks doubtful but nods. "All right, then. I hope you'll feel better soon."

"Thank you." I smile at him again and he walks away. I sit back down. I'm not cold anymore; I'm raging at the image of Jalal with Diane at his side. I hate her. I hate him. His fucking innocent act. Why did I let myself believe I could trust him? Love bites you in the ass every damned time. Well, fuck you, Mr. Vaziri. I bite back.

Jalal calls me when they get home from the zoo. I let it go to voicemail, and then I text him to say I'm shopping. That's not entirely a lie. I'm buying a little revenge.

Two hours later, I enter our kitchen. I'm a little irritated to find Aza and Kristen sitting at the table with Jalal. Oh, what the hell. They might as well be in on the big reveal. Aza is the first to spot me. Her mouth drops open. When Kristen looks to see what her mother reacted to, her eyes widen and she says, "Wow."

Jalal turns toward me. His face remains blank for a few seconds. "Oh my god," he says, more breath than words.

Adam runs toward me but stops a few feet away. "Mama?"

"I think it's cool," Kristen says.

"Tell me that is a wig," Jalal says.

"No. It's all mine. I had it cut and colored. How do you like it?"

"I hate it."

I look him in the eye. "Good." Then I kneel and reach my arms out for Adam. "I'm still Mama, little man. Just my hair is different."

He comes to me and touches it. "Red," he says.

"Indeed it is." It's a deep red shade called Vampire, in fact, but the color will soon wash away. The length will not. The longest locks, in front, hang only two inches below my ears. I gather Adam in my arms and stand. Mia Grace fusses at being ignored in her corral, so Kristen goes to get her. Aza still hasn't said anything; she's watching Jalal. His look of disbelief has hardened into one of angry comprehension.

We stare at each other for a long minute, and then he pushes back his chair and stands. Without a word to any of us, he walks past me and out the door to the garage.

I knew Jalal wouldn't miss the kids' bedtime, so I'm not surprised when he returns just as we start up the stairs. He takes up the rear as we inch upward behind Mia Grace. Adam complains at her pace and tries to duck between my legs. Jalal grabs him and says, "Ticky." From the giggles that follow I know Adam lifted his shirt. We are a damaged family in this stairwell, two of us whole and happy, two of us hurt and bleeding.

He runs the bath water while I undress them. I stand back and let him do the rest. He kisses them often and keeps up a stream of chatter, but his smiles don't reach his eyes. I think he's beginning to realize the price of his betrayal. He lifts Mia Grace from the tub, wraps her in a towel and hands her to me. I dress her for bed and nurse her while Jalal finishes up with Adam. Then Jalal reads to them in the nursery and I tidy the bathroom. Finally, our children are tucked in bed. Another normal bedtime routine—managed without any meaningful interaction between the two of us.