An Illicit Pursuit (13 page)

I fight against dozing off on the way to my
mother’s home, knowing I may not see Zach for another unbearable
amount of time and worse if I have to go back to L.A. “Your father
must be the nicest man in the world for having raised a son like
you.”

He turns to glance at me and places his hand
on my thigh. His lips curl up with another smile, but his eyes
remain cold. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up his father at this
moment, so soon after having sex.

“Have I said something wrong?” I ask.

“No, nothing at all. It’s just—” He exhales a
long breath. “I feel like I failed him.”

I know where this is going. “Because of me?”
Of course it’s because of me. I shouldn’t even need to ask. It’s
crystal clear.

“No, no. It’s not that. Let’s not talk about
it now.” He squeezes my thigh before pulling his hand back. My
unfortunate man. He can’t even lie straight to save his life. Our
religions have always been off topic for us. And tonight is no
different. Nonetheless, I feel soon—sooner than we both wish it to
come—we’ll have to discuss it to death. “When are you going back to
L.A.?” he asks in an apparent attempt to change the topic.

“I have no idea. I don’t want to go back
without you.”

“I don’t know when I’ll go back. My mother
needs me here for a while longer.”

Oh, shoot, of course.

My mother’s home appears at the end of the
street, making me aware that I’ve yet to inform her about my
arrival. Zach drives all the way down the street and turns into the
driveway in front of my old home. The lights in the living room are
on, though it’s past midnight. As soon as I climb out of the car,
the front door opens, and my step-father comes out.

“Pat?” He squints. “I didn’t know you were
coming. Your mother didn’t tell me anything.”

“Hi, Gordon. Sorry, I forgot to call.” I give
him a quick hug. “Is Mom sleeping?”

Gordon leaves me, nodding, and shakes hands
with Zach. “How are you, Zach? Is everything all right?” He glances
at Zach, then back at me.

“No, sir. My dad passed away this afternoon.”
Zach’s voice breaks in the middle of his sentence, and I rush to
hug him.

Mom shows up in her night robe, her hair
pinned up on the top of her head. “Zach? Did I hear it right? Oh,
honey.” She comes and hugs us both. “Why don’t you come in? It’s
freezing out here.”

“I should go. My mother must be waiting for
me.” Zach releases me from his embrace, and my mother takes a step
back. “The funeral will begin tomorrow after the sun goes down.
You’re welcome to pass by if you have time.”

“Of course we have time, honey.” My mother
taps at Zach’s shoulder. “Send my deepest condolences to your
mother.”

Zach nods and walks back to his car. We wave
at him as he drives off. My mother hugs me and pulls me into the
house. “You’re freezing. Let me make you a cup of hot cocoa to warm
you up.”

I sit at the table in the kitchen, half
listening to my mother, half thinking about the upcoming days. How
long will Zach stay here with his mother? Days, weeks, months? What
will happen to us? I feel worse when I realize what I’m doing. I
should feel sad for him for having lost his father, and not
worrying about when I’ll get him back. I should give him the time
he needs, without complaining about my own needs to have him
close.

After the cocoa and brief chatting with my
mother, I drag myself to my bedroom and throw myself on the bed
without changing. My entire body is sore and tired, and I have
energy left only to kick my shoes off.

The next morning, a body-shaking sneeze wakes
me up, and I find myself shivering under my thick blanket. I was
right about my predictions about catching cold. I take off my
clothes, slide into my bathrobe, and head to the bathroom for a
warm shower. On the way back to my bedroom, I hear Mom’s and Mia’s
voices coming from downstairs. I shovel through my old closet for
something thick and wooly and pick a white shirt, a black wool
sweater, and jeans. I realize I’ve lost weight when I put on the
jeans. I should be happy, right? But, I don’t know if such little
things will ever be enough to make me happy again. At least not
until everything is back to normal with me and Zach.

Mia comes to embrace me before I get down the
stairs. “What a great surprise! Will you stay longer this
time?”

I hug her back and place a kiss on her cheek.
“I don’t know,” I say, glancing at Mom’s expectant face. “Zach will
stay a little longer for his mother, and I don’t want to leave him
alone.”

“He’s gonna need you around.” Mom pours
coffee for me. “I made pancakes. Bowers are coming for breakfast in
a minute. Hurry, Mia, the table is waiting to be set.”

For a second, I think about hiding in my
bedroom, because I don’t want to talk to anyone, much less put on a
fake smile.

Mom sees my hesitation. “Pat, come on, your
coffee is getting cold.” She places my cup on the table and pulls
up a chair for me. I comply reluctantly, and slouch back in the
chair.

Vanessa and Brian Bower arrive when Mia
finishes off setting the table. Mom hugs them both and leads them
toward the table.

“Hi, Pat.” Vanessa sits across me. “I didn’t
know you were here. How have you been doing?”

I sip from my coffee, gazing at the large
tray of pancakes Mom’s placing in the middle of the table. “Good.
Same old stuff.”

“Just visiting over the weekend?”

“A little longer than that. Zach’s father
died, and I don’t know how long he’ll need to stay.”

“Zach?” Thick lines form between her knitted
eyebrows, and I realize she doesn’t know about me and Zach. In
fact, we purposefully left everyone in Zach’s side of the
neighborhood in the dark regarding our relationship.

But, now that the cat is out of the bag,
thanks to my big mouth, I simply admit it all, “Zach and I are
together.”

Her eyebrows stay pulled together; maybe
she’s considering the inappropriateness of him being with me or
just curious about our past. In any case, she doesn’t voice her
thoughts and instead turns to her plate. Gordon arrives, shakes
hands with Brian, and gently squeezes Vanessa’s shoulder. I tune
out for the rest of the breakfast and silently eat my pancakes. My
mother shoots me a warning glance, when I fork two more pancakes in
addition to the five I already scarfed down. I ignore her and
generously spread butter and maple syrup over them. I’m already in
a miserable place emotionally; I don’t want to limit the few things
that comfort me.

“Have you heard Nathan Schulberg passed away
yesterday?” Gordon brings up the sensitive topic, unaware of the
eerie exchange Vanessa and I shared a few minutes ago. “We’ll pay
them a visit in the evening. Hope you folks will be there, too. You
know, it’s a little strange being around them.”

I exhale a long, audible breath, not hiding
my contempt about his comment, and open my mouth to defend Zach’s
family, but Vanessa is quicker than me. “They’re really nice
people.”

Brian clears his throat and clasps his hands
together, his elbow on the table. “Yeah, Vanessa is right. They’re
the best neighbors one can ask for. When I got laid off last year
and couldn’t find a job for months, Nathan Schulberg helped me get
a job at his brother’s accounting firm. We were practically a month
away from losing our home when I took up the new job.”

Vanessa bobs her head up and down in
agreement. “Not just that, Mrs. Schulberg took care of our children
for one full month without asking anything in return, when Jane,
our youngest, was hospitalized. Such kind-hearted and generous
people. All of them.”

I bite my lips to repress a sob and place my
fork beside my plate. Zach hasn’t become a kind-hearted and
generous spirit himself for no reason. I wish we didn’t have our
differences, and I could have had the chance to get to know his
father.

I excuse myself and head to my bedroom to cry
my heart out. In the perfect world, I’d be with Zach now, giving
him and his mother the love and support they need, instead of
making myself miserable by not knowing how he’s doing.

I spend the rest of the day in my bed, only
sneaking down to the kitchen once to steal a sandwich and a piece
of chocolate cake.

When darkness settles, my mother appears at
my door, dressed in a long black dress. “Time to go, hon.”

I find a black skirt to wear under my sweater
and put on stockings, before following my mother downstairs and
outside to the car. Mia sits with me in the back seat. Despite her
obvious willingness to chat, she leaves me alone and only slides
her arm beneath mine. A few blocks into the drive, we stop by a
supermarket to pick up a kosher cake.

I feel my stomach burn and my heart thumps
harder as we drive closer to Zach’s home. I try to remember that
one dinner I had at Zach’s. His father wasn’t hostile in the least,
as opposed to his mother’s clear discontent at having me at their
home. Although he was a little distant, he remained friendly
throughout my visit.

Anxiety is eating at me. I can’t stop
fidgeting with my hands and scuffing my shoes nervously on the
floor of the car. I don’t know if I can handle a funeral ceremony
of the man whose son I’m technically stealing away. The car comes
to a halt, and I force myself to my feet. Mia doesn’t leave my side
and clutches my hand as we stroll toward Zach’s home.

Gordon rings the bell, and a teenager boy
dressed in black and with yarmulke and long, side curls opens the
door. Without saying a word, he steps aside and lets us go into an
over-crowded living room. Although we’re all dressed in black, my
family stands out from the crowd, not just for our blond heads, but
the lack of yarmulkes and wigs, too. Nevertheless, no one stares at
us longer than a few seconds.

My mother places the cake on the table among
the other dishes and signals us toward the center of the crowd. I
spot Zach and his mother sitting on low chairs. I can’t help but
wonder whether it’s part of the funeral ceremony. God, I don’t know
the first thing about Judaism, and I’m dating a man from a
religious Jewish family. Somehow, this glaring fact wasn’t so
obvious to me until now.

Zach looks like the literal definition of
beaten up, with his face swollen and coated with different hues of
red and purple, and so does his mother. I keep my gaze down on the
floor when we reach where they sit, and listen to my mother and
step-father expressing their sympathies to Zach’s mother. She
thanks them softly and motions us to the couch across them.

I dare a brief glance at Zach’s side, when I
settle between my mother and Mia on the couch, and my insides crash
down when I notice the sorrow and need clouding Zach’s eyes. Why
can’t I simply go and hug him instead of this distant performance?
He’ll feel much better in my arms, feeling me sharing his pain.

Just like we did last night.

Zach’s mother sobs silently at his side,
while others occasionally talk in low mumbles about the good
memories they shared with Zach’s father, and every piece of
remembrance shows what a noble and generous man he was.

At some point, Zach motions toward the door
with his eyes. Confused, I scowl and stare at him. He gestures with
his chin this time, making it clear that he wants to talk to me in
private. I get up slowly, lying about something I forgot in the
car, and head directly to the front door without glancing back.

Zach meets me outside in the garden, and we
stroll together over to the sidewalk. After I glance back to make
sure no one is around, I throw myself into his arms. “I know I
should be strong for you, but my heart can’t take seeing you in
pain any longer. I wish I could take all your sorrow.”

He doesn’t say anything and hugs me strangely
with one arm. His other hand produces a cell phone from his
pocket.

My cell phone! How did he get it?

Oh, god!

Blood shoots up to my face; my world stops at
the idea of Zach reading the texts from Adam.

“You dropped it in my car,” he clarifies, his
face serious but not in a grieving way. “Who’s Adam?”

I blink several times and gulp down a
mouthful of saliva that I forgot to swallow while trying to come up
with a sound explanation. “No one,” I mutter and lick my lips. “I
started giving private guitar classes to some twin girls. He’s
their brother.” If my voice doesn’t give me away, my heart will do.
I’d rather it stopped beating altogether than beating so loudly. I
remember I deleted Adam’s texts due to storage limitations on the
phone, but Adam may have sent new ones regarding our meeting
today.

“Do the classes include hanging out with them
for a basketball game and a spa visit?”

Shit!
I breathe in and out loudly; my
lips dry with anxiety and cold. “The girls kind of have eating
disorders like I used to have, so their parents think it’d be good
if I spend time with them outside of the classes.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Like a nanny?”

“Not exactly, but yeah, you can call it
that.”

“Baby, you don’t need that kind of gig to
make money. You don’t need to make money at all. I said I’d take
care of you.” He hands me the phone, and I slip it into the pocket
of my coat.

“They’re two sweet girls. It doesn’t feel
like work at all. I took the offer because I didn’t know what else
to do without you in L.A. But, I’ll call them and quit it if it
disturbs you.”

“Okay, do that.” His voice remains serious
but doesn’t imply any suspicion. Thank god!

I rest my head on his chest, relieved that I
didn’t give away too much. “When will I see you again?”

“Tonight. I’ll come to your place.”

My sex reacts to his words, and my muscles
inside scrunch with need. “Really?” The shameless in me shows her
face again, and I slide my arms under his coat and run my hands up
and down his back. After all, I’ll get to comfort him in the
privacy of my bedroom.