A Family Affair (23 page)

“That’s good. Breakfast is at seven. Don’t even think about blowing me off. I shopped all day yesterday for food. We could survive in a storm for six months with what I bought. You know I love to cook, and you sure do need fattening up. Good night, little sister.”

“Night, Emma. Thanks for coming. Thanks for being my sister, and thanks for just being you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Emma grumbled good-naturedly as she walked through the door to her bedroom. “See ya at breakfast.”

“Yeah, see you at breakfast.”

Trish’s last conscious thought before she fell asleep was,
And now this is my new life. I’ve come full circle. Good night, Malik. I will always love you, just like the song says. Always and forever, then into eternity, plus one more day.

Three years later ...

T
RISH SQUATTED ON HER HAUNCHES AND LOOKED AT THE
ground, defying a weed to poke through the freshly cultivated soil. She called this minuscule patch of a garden her own little paradise. From time to time, she likened it to the lush, almost tropical, gardens back at the Dubai palace. She’d planted each bloom herself, talking to the plant, and then, as she always did, talking to Malik. The fact that neither answered her made no difference.

Starting early in the spring, Trish had worked in her little paradise for three hours each morning, before the heat of the day took over. This year was no different. She looked over at her garden tools, which consisted of a pair of scissors, not shears, a big serving spoon, and a salad fork from her kitchen for turning over the rich soil she’d purchased at Home Depot. She didn’t bother with gardening gloves, either, because she liked to feel the earth on her hands. The fact that her nails were a disgrace didn’t bother her at all.

These days, as most days since she’d returned to Las Vegas, had been busy days. She didn’t cry as much, and she didn’t sleep all that well, but she knew she was progressing into what she called her boring world. She got up in the morning, made sure she cooked breakfast for herself, checked in with Emma and talked for at least half an hour. Then she did her gardening, which she actually looked forward to. By the time she finished her stint in the garden paradise, it was lunchtime. She made sure she ate, because she’d promised Emma, and a promise was a promise. Then she worked on her philanthropy, which consisted of giving away what she still insisted was Malik’s money to worthy endeavors that she investigated thoroughly before handing over a check. It was hard giving away the money, whittling it down, because every month, more money appeared in the account. She called it magic money. Then, when she finished with that, she ran whatever errands she had to run and came home to cook a dinner for herself. Her evenings were spent reading, calling Soraya to check on the kids and gossip, and sometimes to cry. On very rare occasions, they laughed together.

Twice, she’d made plans to return to Dubai, and both times she’d canceled her plans at the last moment. She told herself she just wasn’t ready to go back there. Maybe she would never be ready to go back. She simply didn’t know. One day at a time was what had gotten her to this place in time, so she wasn’t about to tamper with a work in progress.

Trish knew she wasn’t happy, but she also knew she was content. She told herself it was a good thing that she knew the difference between the two emotions.

Ironically, since her return, her best friend had turned out to be Ernie. The girls, her old friends, had scattered, moved, gotten married, and relocated. One night a week, she had Ernie and his wife, Bella, for dinner, and one night, usually on the weekend, they invited her to their home for dinner. Ernie was now a full-time choreographer and much sought after, partly thanks to Trish’s magic money. When her old boss Nathan retired shortly after her return to Vegas, she’d talked the owners of the casino into giving Ernie a chance, and it had paid off big for the young man. It went without saying that some of the magic money changed hands until Ernie proved himself. When he did, the casino even paid her back, which almost blew her socks off. And it was the best-kept secret in Vegas, so it really was true, that saying, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

Trish had just set a place for herself at the counter, cut her tuna sandwich, eyed the celery and carrot sticks, along with the peach, that were to be her lunch, when the doorbell rang. She frowned. No one visited her. No one but Ernie and Bella, and they always called before coming over. She wasn’t expecting UPS or FedEx, and the mail had arrived earlier. The doorbell chimed again, a cheery five-note ditty.

She yelled, “Coming!” and raced to the door. She opened it wide and stood in shocked amazement at the man standing on her little stoop with a bouquet of sad-looking flowers in his hand.

“Zack!” she squealed.

He imitated her. “Trish!”

“What are you doing here? Come in! Come in! I was just going to have lunch. Can you stay? Did you eat?”

“I can stay, and I can eat. I’m in Vegas for a conference. It started yesterday, and we broke early today. I thought I’d come by and see how you were and maybe take you out to dinner this evening. What do you say?”

“I say yes! It is so good to see you. How have you been? How are all the guys? I can’t wait to hear how everyone is.”

“We’re all fine. I can break it down later, but more importantly, how are
you
doing?”

Trish waved her hands about. “What you see is what you get. Pretty much the same old, same old. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better e-mail pal. Sometimes, the days just seem to get away from me. Other times, they just drag. I try to keep busy giving away Malik’s money, but as fast as I give it away, there’s more to take its place. I gave up trying to figure it all out. I help my sister from time to time. I told you about the shop that she and her friends operate back in Princeton. If I see a one-of-a-kind something, I ship it up to her. They are doing fantastically well. What about you?”

“Like you, same old, same old. A little older, more gray hair, put on a few pounds. I try for the gym at least twice a week, but it doesn’t always work out. There are days when I get fed up with teaching eager and not-so-eager minds and wish I were a plumber or a mailman. The feeling doesn’t last long, though. By the way, great sandwich.”

“I cook a lot. Emma made me promise. You know, one of those promises carved in stone, that I would cook and eat three meals a day. I’m pretty good at it.” Trish suddenly burst out laughing. “Actually, I pretty much throw stuff in a Crock-Pot, and whatever comes out is what I eat. I already did that earlier, just chicken and vegetables. So if you’d like to eat here instead of going out, that would work for me. I have some good wine and also some good beer.”

“Then I’m your guy. This really is a good sandwich.”

Trish laughed again. This was so nice. She had company, and it was an old friend. What could be nicer?

“Have you gone back to Dubai? How is Rashid and his wife?”

“No, I haven’t gone back. I had plans to go twice, but I changed my mind at the last moment. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back. They gave me a plane. Did I tell you that? The reason was, so all I had to do was call up, say, ‘Fuel up,’ and off we go. It’s sitting in a hangar somewhere. Rashid is doing well. Malik would be so proud of him. Soraya is, first and foremost, a mother. The kids are growing and giving her a run for her money. She complains, but she loves it. She works a little for my sister, finding those one-of-a-kind treasures. She says it helps to do something besides chasing kids. We talk just about every evening. I miss them.”

“Are you happy?”

“Not like I was happy with Malik. Let’s just say I’m content these days. I try not to think about or dwell in the past, and Malik is the past. It was a different life and it’s gone now and I can’t get it back, so I have to move forward. At first I fought it, but things are better now. What about you? Why haven’t you ever married?” Trish asked bluntly.

“I guess the right girl just hasn’t found me yet.” Zack laughed.

“What? You’re waiting for her to knock on your front door?”

“I have to admit, that would be nice.” Zack laughed again.

Trish joined in the laughter. “Come with me. I want to show you my garden. I work in it every day, right up until late fall.”

“Wow! You need sunglasses out here. I never saw so many flowers in one spot in my whole life. This is beautiful. Ah, those flowers I brought you, they were the only ones left in the gift shop at the hotel. I am so ashamed after seeing these.”

“Don’t be. It’s the thought that counts. How long are you going to be in town?”

“Until Monday. I can stay longer if you take me around sightseeing. As you know, us professors do not work in the summer. Well, some of us do, but I don’t. I was going to go home to the farm, but my parents are going camping with some of the grandkids for weeks at a time, so I elected to stay home. I might take some road trips to see some of the guys. We’re going to get together in New York over Thanksgiving, all of us. Each one of the guys committed. They’re bringing their spouses. Can you join us as Malik’s stand-in?”

Trish didn’t think twice before she said, “I would love to.”

“Great. That’s settled, then. Now, what should we do?”

“How about I make us a pitcher of iced tea, and we sit on my tiny, as in ‘tiny balcony,’ and play catch-up? I can actually fit two canvas chairs on it. My sister calls it a platform with a fence, but it works for me.”

“Then let’s do it. I bet we can talk for hours and hours and hours, or until that stuff in your Crock-Pot is ready to eat.”

And that was exactly what they did. Then, when dinner was over and the cleanup done, they talked till midnight, when Zack said he had to get back to the hotel because he had a six thirty breakfast date with several fellow professors he hadn’t seen in awhile, plus he was giving the opening address at the conference at eight.

“Can I come by later, around lunchtime? Think of something to do, and I’ll drive.”

“Okay.”

No one was more surprised than Trish when Zack leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It is so damn good to see you, Trish. I mean that.”

“I do know what you mean. You make me smile. Good night, Zack. See you in the morning. I’ll figure out something to do.”

Trish ran upstairs and over to the mantel in her room. She reached for the wooden box and started babbling. “And he’s coming back tomorrow. He liked my stuff in the Crock-Pot. At least he said he did. He has gray hair now, Malik. Like me, he misses you. I’m going to go to New York in your place over Thanksgiving, as your stand-in for their reunion. I said yes. It seemed like the right answer. I know I’m not going to be one of the guys, but I’ll do my best to represent you. Just once, Malik,” Trish whispered, “I wish you could give me a sign that you hear me when I talk to you. Just once. Is that too much to ask?”

She sighed as she replaced the box on the mantel. She bent down to adjust the sound on the surround-sound system she’d had installed. She liked to fall asleep to soothing music. She stood stock-still when she heard Whitney Houston singing “I Will Always Love You.”

Trish smiled through her tears. “That’s good enough for me,” she said, singing along with Whitney until the song ended. Then she did what she always did before she settled herself under the covers. She opened her night-table drawer and reached for a small gold-colored velvet bag. Her hands trembled as she withdrew a small bundle of Malik’s hair, which Soraya had given her. She said she had kept an identical bag for herself. She said it was Rashid’s idea. Trish touched the ebony curl, and as always, a tear rolled down her cheek. She clutched the curl in her hand and fell asleep. In the morning, sometimes the curl was damp when she replaced it in the gold bag.

The following morning, Trish was up at the crack of dawn. She followed her normal routine, and when Zack arrived, she was ready, dressed in mint-green capris, sandals, and a white linen blouse.

The days passed quickly as Trish showed Zack Las Vegas. They ate on the fly, they gambled, they took in a show, and she introduced him to Ernie and Bella and the kids. They had a picnic on the patch of grass in her little garden. And then it was time for Zack to leave.

“I can’t believe how fast these past few days have gone by. I so enjoyed your company, Zack. Don’t be a stranger now, and I promise to be a better e-mail pal. Call when you’re bored. I’m getting to the point where I’m tired of hearing my own voice. I’m thinking of getting a dog or a cat. What do you think?” Trish asked as she pulled to the curb at the airport.

“Go to the SPCA. They’re always looking for people to adopt. Just stand there, and the animals will find you. I have a cat from the SPCA. I call her Tootsie because that’s what they said her name was. She sleeps on my bed, on the other pillow.”

“A cat, huh?”

“Go figure!” Zack laughed as he got out of the car. Trish popped the trunk, and he hefted his bag out. They stood for a moment before Zack hugged her and planted a big kiss on her cheek. “I had a really great weekend. Thanks, Trish.”

“Call when you get home safe and sound,” Trish said, clearly flustered.

“Yes, Mother,” Zack drawled. He waved as he swept through the door someone was holding open for him. Trish waved back.

On the way back to her town house, Trish let her thoughts roam. She’d had such a good time this weekend. She realized what a recluse she’d become. It was time to do something about that. Even if it was just deviating from her pattern of living. Maybe she needed to start grilling instead of relying on the Crock-Pot every day. Maybe she should work in the garden late in the day instead of early in the morning.

Maybe she needed to
get a job.

It hit her then, what Zack had said. She sat bolt upright behind the wheel and took the next turn off the highway, which would take her to the SPCA. She did exactly what Zack had told her to do. She stood still and looked around. When a mangy cat approached her, hissing and snarling, she dropped to her haunches and defied the animal to either bite or scratch her. It did neither. It simply lay down at her feet. Trish bellowed at the top of her lungs, “I’ll take this one!” From there, she went to the dog kennel and did the exact same thing. When a skinny, big-eyed dog walked on wobbly legs over to her and looked up at her, she smiled. “Okay, fella, guess you’re mine, too.” She bellowed again, “I’ll take this one!”

An hour later, she had both animals in her car. They both stank to high heaven. She headed right for a vet who was three blocks from where she lived. She lugged both crates into the office, explained the situation, and said, “I’ll wait.”

To pass the time, she walked next door to a pet store that was attached to the veterinary office and loaded up her trunk with gear. Everything a dog or a cat would need forever. She eyed the dog food, bought a small amount, not liking the way it looked. “Looks like rabbit poop,” she said to the salesgirl.