“Mama, you aren’t coming with us?” she had asked me, not with surprise—after all, I had explained the arrangement to her several times—but more like someone making sure everything was going according to plan.
“No, sweetheart,” I told her and hugged her tight. “You’re going with Grandma and Grandpa. You’ll have so much fun together, and I’ll come get you in a few days.”
“Will Daddy come too?” she asked, kicking at the sand with her sandal.
“We’ll meet Daddy after,” I said, “and he’ll bring you presents.”
“Daddy’ll bring me presents!” Lily informed my mother.
“He’s a good father,” said my mom and straightened the strap of her purse. “Come, sweetie, we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”
Last week, Jean and I had scheduled for the following day. The days were getting muddled for me lately, and I needed to check the calendar every time I tried to remember what day of the week or date of the month it was—but the date I had set with Jean felt like it had a magnetic pull.
Maybe I’ll go there now, I thought suddenly as I caught my breath.What’s stopping me, actually?
I lay on the couch and went back over every detail of my last visit.Better to stick with the plan, I told myself,so I don’tfind myself in some medieval dungeon. I shivered until my teeth chattered.Okay, all right, I acknowledged to some unknown and invisible entity,I will not go to Jean today, I will go tomorrow, as we planned.
I went over to the fridge and took out red caviar, butter, and champagne. I made myself a few slices of bruschetta and ate them while sipping champagne and reading the French manuscript.
The next morning, I shuffled into the bathroom. My face was a little puffy from sleep, and maybe also from the champagne that I drank too much of yesterday. Behind my hair, a sliver of sea glimmered in the window. I got into the shower.
I sat beneath the flow of cold water and considered what to take with me for my time travel today.Will I sleep there, in the thirteenth century? In Jean’s beautiful canopy bed? Should I take a T-shirt to sleep in? Or maybe a more suitable nightdress? Maybe the slip that went under the dress that Jean gave me could work as pajamas? Spare contact lenses? Glasses? A toothbrush? Definitely not a charger. Relax. Stop thinking so much. Breathe. Let go.
I drank coffee and called my parents. “She’s just wonderful,” my mother told me in Russian, and in the background, I heard my father bargaining pleasantly with Lily over a candy in exchange for finishing her toast. “I don’t understand why we didn’t do this sooner,” she added. “By the way, have you spoken with Dinka lately?” It was clear to me that my mother was planning to use Lily’s stay as a precedent with which to tempt my sister to send her children for an extended vacation in Jerusalem.
“Actually, no,” I said. I was also surprised. We had texted in the last few days, but the preparations for Halimi’s and Lily’s respective trips—along with my endless sinking into musing—did not leave me any spare time or need for the usual idle conversations with Dina.
“Okay, Mom, I have to go,” I told her quickly, sending kisses and hugs and forgoing exchanging a few words with Lily so that she would not suddenly miss me terribly.Bad—bad mother, I reprimanded myselfwhile packing a bag as I would for Vipassana, minus the change of clothes. I took a few pairs of underwear, just in case.
With great attention to detail, I put on the entire system of dress that Jean had given me on my previous visit to the fortress, including the socks with the ties and the pretty shoes. I carefully put on the complicated head covering in front of the mirror. I photographed my image with my crappy old phone. I looked at the picture on the tiny screen for several seconds: a pixelated ghost image.
I double-checked that my little bag had Lily’s ten-agorot coin tucked inside. The Ibelin coin hung around my neck, as always. While I got ready (On the morrow, Jean’s calm voice echoed in my head.And don’t rush inside the fortress if I should be a little late, my lady.), I received a text from Halimi.
“Having fun in total silence?”
“On my way,” I replied curtly but added a smiley. After all, I was supposed to be on my way to the Arava desert right now, driving toward three days of Vipassana. “And how’s it going over there? Rubbing shoulders with the stars? Eating calamari?” I added after a few minutes, theoretically taking advantage of a red light. There was no response. When I went to pee before heading out, my phone rattled. Halimi wrote, “Minimal rubbing. Miss you guys. Have fun my love.” I smiled and hugged him tightly in my heart.
About two months ago, the thought of him working on a project forFree to Bein Europe, outside my range of monitoring, would have made me lose my mind. I imagined Nina flying especially to oversee the article and misbehave with Halimi. I expected an outburst of hatred to wash over me, but it did not come. I tried again for several minutes. I stared into space and imagined Halimi and Nina meeting in Lisbon. How they would sit and drink Madeira and then go up to his hotel room. She would say she was not actually up to it, and then he would seduce her anyhow. I remained unaffected. If anything, it turned me on a little. I shook myhead in disbelief. For a moment, I thought about going to my laptop and rummaging around in Nina’s Facebook profile, just to see if I was right—she would definitely post about it if she was in Portugal. I took one step toward the computer and then let it go, and at once felt weightless.
Before leaving, I cast one final look at my clean, pretty house, and suddenly a heretical thought crossed my mind—wouldn’t it be even more fun to just lounge around at home for a few days? To lay around smoking pot from morning to night, reading, sleeping until God knows what hour, feasting on smoked salmon and meat dumplings in cream?
Twang, twang. The strings played between my ears as I recalled the first time I saw Jean, lighting a hookah with hashish and sharing a bit of bread with me. I left the house and locked the door.
CHAPTER 20
When I came in, Halimi would not look at me. He stood by the window, smoking, drinking a whiskey. “Haven’t you had enough for one evening?” I asked drily when I saw the empty bottle, which had been nearly full when I left the house.
He gritted his teeth.
“Was that enough for you?” he asked, finally looking at me, his eyes cold and venomous.
“Aww, are you feeling a little fragile?” I shot back in a high voice that sounded annoying even to me.
“Idit,” Halimi said with meticulous enunciation. “This is not about my feelings. There’s a little girl here. You can’t just storm off and disappear. I called the police.”
I snorted derisively.
“So, when you fuck your colleague and disappear night after night, that’s fine for the little girl?” I asked, my voice twisting with sarcasm. “That little girl loves you and misses you, and I’m the one who has to lie to her and tell her that you’re running late at work every night.” I could feel the back of my throat. I clenched my fists hard to try to stop the tears from coming.
