Hill of Secrets: An Israeli Jewish mystery novel (17 page)

“She asked me to come shopping with her for baby equipment, and once Ariel was born she asked me for advice a lot. I wasn't sure why this honor was bestowed upon me. I'm not the most maternal type. Michal is much more maternal than me, but I became her shoulder to lean on. I remember that it bothered me a little that she esteemed my opinion so highly and disregarded the advice of my mother, for instance.

“We could have said the exact same thing, but when it came from me it was heard. When she was expecting Galit, she gained a lot of weight—of course, after Galit was born; she turned to me to help her get back in shape. At that time, I was already managing Fitroom, so I set her up with discounted membership and even came to work out with her a couple of times. In short, we were close, compared to her relationship with the rest of our family."

"Can you, maybe, shed some light on the split in the family?"

"Like I told you, Meir and Hanni received financial support. My parents were torn on this arrangement. It wasn't financially difficult for them but emotionally difficult—they wanted Meir to be independent. They really deliberated whether to give them a set allowance or transfer them money when they asked for it."

"But that didn't happen."

"I'm not totally up to date on this, but I think, as time passed, they had to give them more and more support. Eventually it all exploded."

"With the purchase of the car?"

"Right. As long as it was small purchases you could maybe think it was lack of attention, but when she bought the car it was clear to all of us that she expected my parents to pay for it. It was a leap too far and when my parents asked her to return it—it was a really extravagant purchase, after all—she managed to cross all of the red lines and spit in the well she’d drunk from for years."

"What did she say?"

"I wasn't there, but from what I understood, she told my parents that she was through with the fact that they favor us, me and particularly Michal, over her. That in every normal family, especially ones with the financial ability to, they support their children and that all they ever did was insult her and make her feel like she didn't belong. She claimed she didn't ask them to pay for her car and that's why my parents' demand upset her so much."

"And what do you think? Was there any truth to what she was saying?"

"There was some. My parents had definitely had enough of her, but they tried their hardest not to show it. And, to say it lightly, she completely brought it upon herself. She was just ungrateful. How could she claim that she was mistreated or wasn't getting enough? Besides the financial support, she would boss my mother around endlessly to watch the children."

"So they kept the car, your parents cut them off and there was a cutting off of relations."

"Something like that."

"Did you believe it would really happen?"

"At first, not at all. First of all, I thought Meir also had a say in their household. Secondly, she used my mother so many times that I didn't think she'd withstand the punishment she basically inflicted on herself."

"But she withstood it?"

"Yes, unfortunately, she did."

"I want to understand something. Didn't she know her financial situation?"

"She knew, but she wasn't informed in all of the little details. Meir was an economist and he was the only one of the two of them that dealt with the bank."

"But she was a lawyer. She wasn't uneducated or unable to understand."

"True! That really drove us all crazy."

"Did you try talking to her?"

"Of course, but there was no one listening."

"Was the connection to you and Michal also severed?"

"With Michal, there was no real connection in the first place. The relationship with me dwindled, mainly because it was difficult for me to pretend that everything was okay."

"Then why did you talk to her?"

"My mother was glad that I stayed in contact with Hanni because she wanted to at least be updated and hoped that someday everything would sort itself out," she said in a quivering voice and then broke into tears.

She calmed down after a couple of minutes. "Where was I?"

"You said your mother hoped everything would sort itself out."

"Right, since I was still in contact with her, my mother could find out from me what was going on with them, especially with the grandchildren. My mother was very worried about Arieli."

"Why?"

"He had a lot of problems, mostly discipline, but it stemmed from something deeper. I think he had some untreated emotional problem."

"Are you sure he wasn't getting treatment?"

"No, I have no idea what they were doing with him. I can only say that I got the feeling that his unruly behavior toned down a bit in recent months. Maybe it's just a feeling, seeing as I barely saw him."

"Was he given Ritalin?" Maybe he had an illegal prescription.

"I don't know."

"So you stayed in touch with her for your mother’s sake?"

"Yes."

When we were done with the interview, I did what I never dared to do and asked Meirav if she wanted to go out for a cup of coffee.

I guess she liked me too and about half an hour later we were sitting in a small coffee shop in Tel-Aviv.

She was very interested by the fact that I chose to work in the police and leave a law firm and fat paycheck. I reminded her that she also made a professional transformation from a fitness trainer to a businesswoman and she laughed. She thought that while she’d settled down, I’d done the reverse, from a respectable job as a lawyer to a tough cop. I laughed.

She asked about my family situation and I told her I was recently divorced.

"Oh," she made a sad face. "Why?"

"Because my husband wanted children and I didn't," I answered simply. I usually said that it didn't work between us, when that's far from being the real and even true answer. I felt like Meirav would understand me.

"Really?" she seemed impressed, not surprised, and I liked that.

"Yes," I smiled.

"I really admire you." I knew it was not for nothing that I liked her. "A lot of people don't really want to be parents, including myself." She shocked me. She smiled at the sight of my stunned face. I'm not used to being stunned in these conversations. "I surprised you, huh?"

"Completely."

"I have two boys and I'm crazy about them, but I really don't love being a mother." I nodded in understanding. "I married young and got pregnant right away, that's how it's done in our circles."

"I know," I added. "I'm also originally from a religious home."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed it."

"What do you mean? You can guess who used to be religious?"

"Usually I can." She laughed, "There's something about people who used to be religious that's very obvious. I think it may be their need to flaunt their secularity. You don't try too hard."

I smiled, trying to understand if that was a compliment.

"Anyway, a year and three months after I got married, when I was twenty-two, I had my first son and discovered that I'm not as maternal as I was expected to be. My sister, Michal, knew how to take care of her young nephew better than I did, and she wasn’t even pregnant yet. I didn't enjoy anything, not even things that supposedly were meant to cause me great joy, like his first step or first word."

"Maybe you had post-partum depression?"

"I suspected that, too, at first, but I soon realized it wasn't depression, I was just not enjoying parenthood."

"Then why did you have another child?"

"Excellent question," she smiled in embarrassment. "As time went on, it was easier for me to connect with my son. He grew and was very communicative and that's much more fun than looking after a tiny creature that just eats, poops and sleeps. I still didn't find much interest in kindergarten parties and was bored to death every time I had to play with him.

“I didn't have anything in common with other mothers who were busy with development issues, sicknesses and educational activities. As soon as Ophir turned two, my entire surroundings seemed to tell me that I should have another baby. At first I wouldn't even hear about it, I was still in shock, but as time went on, the shock subsided a bit and I felt like I was doing my son wrong by keeping him alone."

"You think it's doing a child wrong to raise him without siblings?"

"I don't know… there's a six year gap between my eldest son and my youngest. They're not really the best of friends. They don't fight or anything, but they don't have too much in common, either. I think the main reason I had another child was to not be unusual. Though only two kids in a religious family is fairly unusual, since the minimum is three and these days, four kids are the new three, but two is still considered "a family." She marked up air quotes when she said "family."

"And one isn't?"

"If you ask me today, with the mind I have today, anyone can define their family as they wish. If two men who live together adopt a dog and they see themselves as a family unit, they're a family, I can't tell anybody what family is to them."

"You're very liberal."

"For a religious person." She completed the sentence for me, "Yes, I know." She smiled.

"But - do you love your children?"

"Very much, and now it's also much easier because they're grown up and completely independent and I can talk to them like I do to any other adult, but when they were little, I didn't enjoy myself."

"So maybe it's worth suffering in the beginning to enjoy them when they're older, to have a family, to not be alone?" I raised arguments I didn't believe in.

"Maybe. I'm not sure about that. Nobody promises your kids will become your best friends. Maybe they'll move to another country… maybe they'll be leeches?"

"Like Hanni, for instance?"

"For instance!" She laughed a bitter laugh. "Here, look at my parents, they brought three children into the world and they got so much grief from my brother, God rest his soul." Her eyes filled with tears again.

This wasn't an interrogation and we weren't in the station. I got up off the chair and went over to her. I bent over and gave her a long, warm hug.

"You're changing everything I think about cops," she said after she finished blowing her nose.

*

The next morning I went to Tsumi's veterinary clinic. The dog had a nasty skin problem that demanded monthly cosmetic treatment, which included getting his fur washed with a medical shampoo.

The treatment was scheduled ahead of time and was like a thorn in my side, but I knew I had no choice because Emily, the dog groomer who treated him, was about to fly to South America for two months and I knew it wouldn't be wise to postpone.

My furry ball of energy was happy as could be when he discovered I was taking him out of the house. He walked with his head held high and tail wagging, as if saying, "Today, I am specially loved." His sheer joy was replaced by horror once he realized the purpose of our trip was the veterinary clinic. The dog did not stop crying from the moment we walked in to the blessed moment we walked out.

I sat in the waiting room and ignored his non-stop crying while he was being washed. I leisurely read a newspaper, completely ignoring his ceaseless pleas for my attention. I couldn't do anything, not even pet him, because he was completely covered in the medical shampoo.

To my great surprise, despite the relatively early time of day, there was another young woman in the waiting room. She was waiting for her beloved dog that’d undergone emergency surgery to remove a malignant tumor. She was constantly calling her partner and her mother and informing them of every single detail.

I had the sense she was looking at me with an accusatory gaze. How could I sit so leisurely while my dog was undergoing such torture?

That feeling was replaced with knowing a few minutes later.

Emily washed Tsumi and went outside with him to comb and dry him off.

"Is that your dog barking out there?" She roused me from a titillating article about twenty-one ways to improve your sex life (but not one tip about how to get a sex life).

"Yes," I answered without lifting my eyes from the paper.

"Why is he barking?"

"Because he doesn't like being combed."

"But he's not being combed," she said, shaking her head in repulsion.

I went outside. Emily had tied Tsumi to a pole and gone in to the vet. I hadn't noticed since I was so absorbed in the paper. I released Tsumi and brought him into the waiting room together.

Tsumi rubbed up against me and hysterically licked me. He was finally rescued from the hands of the terrible Emily and back with mommy.

"You see?" she said. "He wanted you! Why weren't you sitting with him?" she added, rolling her eyes.

I didn't answer. What could I say? She was right, but I'm not as evil as I appeared to her. During the treatment, Tsumi needed to see me as little as possible, because I couldn't touch him. When he was crying outside, I hadn't noticed he was alone.

I thought about Hanni—how much criticism I’d heard from those close to her in the last few days. It seemed that everyone approached parenting in his own way.