An Illusion of Trust (Sequel to The Brevity of Roses) (6 page)

I smack the tabletop. "Why the hell would you tell her I had a soft heart?"

Coke sputters out of Kristen's mouth and she says, "God, I
love
you guys."

Kristen's smile sets Aza's face aglow.

After lunch, Jalal takes me downstairs to show me the progress on the renovations. We enter through the front door because he changed plans again and the kitchen is torn up. It drives me crazy that he won't discuss the costs of the remodeling with me. He calls it our money, but he controls it. Does he think of me as a child or not trust me?

I follow Jalal up the front staircase. The whine of a power saw comes from the back of the house. "What are you doing to the kitchen now?"

"I decided against breaking through the sitting room wall, so we are extending the kitchen into a play area slash family room."

"We are? So you're turning it into a great room after all."

"It will be perfect for the children. The new room has its own mudroom and exit directly to the outdoor play area—yet to be constructed."

"Outdoors! I thought we were going to move in next week."

He stops at the first landing and says, "The yard has nothing to do with moving in. And the great room will be ready in ten days … two weeks at most."

"Jalal …"

"We will be moved in before Christmas. I promise."

When we reach the upper hallway, he surprises me by turning left instead of right. "I thought you were showing me the master bedroom."

"Patience." He opens the door to the room at the end of the hall, the baby's room, and steps aside so I can enter first.

The ultrasound showed we're having a girl, so the nursery is decorated in creams and pinks, balanced by cherry wood pieces. This is the first time I've seen it all put together. Azadeh and Kristen arranged the furniture and added some finishing touches after the painters cleared out. In the daylight, diffused through voile curtains, all shapes are softened, muted. It's a sweet dream room. With one hand, I touch the ivory silk canopy over the crib; with the other, I stroke my belly. I'm anxious, once again, to meet my new child.

Jalal steps up close behind and wraps his arms around me, clasping his hands over mine. "Aza didn't know where you wanted to hang the pictures, so she left those for you."

Does he understand how safe I feel when he holds me?

After a few moments, he says, "Shall we proceed?"

We pass through the connecting bathroom into Adam's room. Directly across the room is another door, the one he promised, leading into our room. A straight shot, indeed. I feel a little guilty about the arrangement of rooms. Shouldn't a newborn's room be the closest to its parents'? My hand returns to my belly. I love this baby. I want this baby. But it isn't real to me yet. Like the nursery, the baby is wrapped in a dream. A promise not yet fulfilled.

Adam's room is livelier than the nursery. It's all primary colors, tastefully done, with beautiful, solid cherry furnishings. Of course, he won't always want to sleep in this room next to ours. By the time he's Kristen's age, he'll probably want the room farthest away. Why do I let myself think these thoughts? They always make me cry. I wipe my tears away, hoping Jalal hasn't noticed them. Adam's room was his project and he'll misunderstand my tears.

"You don't like it?" he asks.

He noticed. "It's great, Jalal. He'll love it." It's my turn to hold him close. "They grow up too fast."

He laughs. I love the sound of it, amplified in my ear pressed against his chest. "Adam is only sixteen months old," he says. "We have a while to go before he moves out."

I release Jalal and cross the room to the windows. Adam's room faces east, but the row of eucalyptus trees along that side of the property will block most of the morning sun. Fear clutches my heart when I look down at the flagstones of the side patio below. What if Adam fell out this window? "Jalal—"

"Childproof locks," he says, "and guards for when the windows are open."

"I don't see—"

"Scheduled for installation next Monday, sweet love."

"Thank you."

"He is my son too, you know. I want to keep him just as safe as you do."

No. The denial pops into my mind, but I'm not sure why. Of course Jalal is concerned about Adam's safety. Why would I doubt that? This pregnancy is making me a little insane. "Okay," I say, "I'm ready to see our passion pit."

Jalal walks to the door leading into our room then stops with his hand on the knob. "Remember," he says, "
you
are the one who hired Judith."

"You didn't protest. And you approved her sketches. But you made
me
chose colors and fabrics and styles from all those window shopping trips and photos of beds and lamps and chairs and a thousand other things. I
told
you I didn't know what I was doing, Jalal."

He opens the door.

We step into our room. To the right is an alcove, a sitting area, where the closets used to be. Beyond that, are the new closets and extended bathroom suite. The windows are in the same locations, but otherwise, the room is unrecognizable. "How did you do all this so quickly? You totally moved the closets."

"Do you like it?"

Not only do I like the arrangement, but I'm amazed Judith took my stupid input and created a room more beautiful than I ever imagined. Yet, it feels like I knew all along this is exactly what I wanted. There's no stopping the tears this time, and Jalal doesn't confuse them for disappointment but holds me again in silence, stroking my hair until I dry my eyes and nose on his shirtsleeve. I turn slowly, taking in the whole room again. Then I give him a wink. "How about we try out that bed?"

He doesn't waste time answering.

When we move to Coelho, two weeks before Christmas, the house in Bahía de Sueños gets demoted to our getaway place. Since the remodeling crew finished work on the new great room only the day before our move, we arrive to Lorena and her sister still scrambling to clean up the dust left behind before unpacking the kitchen items and putting everything back into place.

We left Adam in Bahía, to spend most of the day with Granny and Dardo—as Adam calls Eduardo. I try to help with the unpacking, but Jalal, Azadeh, Lorena, and even Kristen all command me to rest, so I'm sitting in the living room, trying to decide where to place the Christmas tree. With ten-foot ceilings, we'll have to buy a much larger one than we had our first two Christmases together, which also means shopping for a lot more ornaments. And I'll need larger ones now to keep in scale with the size of the tree. Why didn't I think of that sooner? I could have ordered more to match the gorgeous ones I found online last year. What if the local stores don't have a good selection left?

"And what about the outside?" I ask Jalal as he enters holding out a bottle of water to me.

"Excuse me? Drink. Were we having a conversation about something?"

I follow orders and down a third of the water before answering. "Decorating for Christmas."

"Oh. I hired someone to do that, inside and out. We are lucky they had an opening. I forgot to schedule it earlier."

"You're joking."

"They will be here early tomorrow to put up lights and things outside and on Monday to decorate this room and the downstairs hall. And Aza said she and Kristen would do something with the dining room and anywhere else you want. And … I am babbling because I can tell you are upset." He grabs my water bottle and drinks the rest of it.

Hell yes, I'm upset. He keeps telling me to make this my home, yet now it seems everything is being done or decided for me. I try to keep my voice level. "That's the way you've always done it here."

He grimaces. "Well, yes, but I thought … you being pregnant. Twenty-nine weeks. I mean …" He sighs and looks down at the empty bottle in his hand. "I should have asked you what you wanted."

I nod, even though he's not looking at me.

"I am truly sorry," he says and hugs me.

"What will the tree be like? Besides huge."

He pulls back, puzzled.

"It won't be one of those god-awful decorator trees with pink and purple and feathers and junk, will it?"

"No. Uh … I hope not. I called the same company we always used, and I think they will do—"

"I see. So how was Meredith's tree decorated?"

For a moment, he squints toward the front windows as if trying to visualize it. "It had some white and gold stuff … and … you know, decorating Christmas trees is not really something I know much about. Judith will remember what it looked like. Ask her."

I step out of his embrace. "Well, it doesn't matter, does it? It's already scheduled."

"Red! I remember. You like a lot of red on the tree." He pulls me back to him. "I will call now and tell them to make sure your tree is decorated in red." He kisses me and then pulls out his phone.

"I'm hungry," I say. "When are we having lunch?"

"I think Lorena might murder us if we try to get into the kitchen before they finish with it, so we—"

"I want pizza."

"All right. We can go to—"

"And mu shu pork."

"All right. Uh … I am trying to think of a restaurant that serves both."

"We can order the pizza delivered, and I'll go pick up the Chinese."

"No. You stay here and I—"

"Quit treating me like I'm an invalid, Jalal. Or an imbecile. I can
drive
, for God's sake." I take two steps toward the hall, intending to find out what the others want to eat. Jalal grabs my arm and I turn on him, fuming. "What
now
?"

"I know I upset you about the Christmas decorating, but this is not only about that, is it?"

No. Not even close. "I'm just hungry," I say, even though I know that won't fool him. His few seconds' pause confirms that, but he knows me well enough to let it go, for now.

"Well then," he says carefully, "find out what everyone wants and order it, but I have to pick it up because you barely know your way around this town, and Yen Ching is not that easy to find."

Okay. Sometimes I over-react.

I wish I hadn't suggested pizza and Chinese, because now we're sitting around one end of the huge mahogany table in the dining room eating take-out food with real silver forks off expensive china. Cardboard containers, paper napkins, and soda cans litter the table. Jennie is wrong. I 
don't
 deserve to live here. I've been here less than a day and I'm already trashing up the place. Jalal frowns when I reach for another Coke. I ignore him.

"No offense, Uncle J," Kristen says, "I know you're a good cook, but we should have meals like this more often."

"Thank your aunt for her cravings," he says.

"Thanks, Renee. Maybe you could crave tacos next."

"You're welcome." I caught the look Jalal gave Azadeh. He feels it's disrespectful for Kristen not to call me aunt, but I don't mind. She's the same age as my sister Nicole.

"Renee," Aza says, "Jalal says the tree in the living room is taken care of, so when can we go shopping for what we need to decorate the rest of the house?"

Damn it. Does Jalal tell her 
everything
 that goes on between us? To keep from gritting my teeth, I over chew a bite of spring roll. I shouldn't blame Aza. I swallow and smile at her. "Jennie won't be bringing Adam until after three, so we could go right after lunch. Or tomorrow, after Jennie leaves, if you'll be too busy this afternoon."

"Let's go today," Aza says. "That way, if Jennie wants to help us decorate tomorrow, she can."

Though it worsens the throbbing in my lower back, I rock Adam on my hip, kissing his curls on every other beat. "But, Jennie, if he wakes up he won't know where he is."

"Don't be ridiculous," she says. "If he wakes—
if
—he'll darn sure know he's with me." Jennie holds out her hands and Adam reaches for her. "You and Jalal enjoy a quiet first night in your new home. Granny can handle this little guy." She grasps Adam's wrist and waves his hand at me. "Say nite nite, Mama."

"Go seep, Mama," Adam says.

"Or not," Jennie says and winks.

I kiss Adam one more time, but it takes a push from Jennie to get me out the door. I assume Jalal is still in the kitchen, so I head for the back stairs. A shard of light slicing across the carpet in our otherwise darkened bedroom catches my eye. As I get closer, I hear water running in the bathroom.

"A hot bath for you," Jalal says when he sees me in the doorway. "To relax your back."

"And how did you know it's aching?"

He points to his forehead. "I can tell by the crease between your brows."

As he turns off the water, I lean into the mirror. Huh. I never noticed it deepens when I'm in pain. Either this baby is going to be bigger than Adam, or I was in better shape for my first pregnancy. Being on my feet, working at Jennie's through my sixth month kept my muscles toned. Motherhood has softened me in more ways than one.

"Do you need help?" he asks.

"With what?"

He gestures to the water. "Getting undressed and into the tub."

I've stripped to my underwear when Jalal starts undressing. It's a huge tub, but I'm seven months pregnant. "Uh, Jalal, I don't think both of us—"