The three of them had a good laugh. Daniel, hearing Noah stir in his bassinet, rose to pick him up while Meridia excused herself to the bedroom.
“Your wife is a clever woman,” said Samuel, stroking his bushy black beard. “If she were a jewel, there would be no price to her worth.”
“I can’t and won’t argue with you,” said Daniel with pride. “I knew her worth from the moment she stomped on my foot.”
A few minutes later, Meridia reappeared with the two gold bars. She handed them to Samuel and shook his hand.
“There’s one more thing,” she said. “My husband has explained that we would like to keep this a secret. Will you give us your word?”
The dealer nodded. A gleam in his audacious eyes gave away his wonderment that somehow, without his being aware of it, this pretty and soft-spoken young woman had not only outsmarted him but also bent him to her wish.
After Samuel left, Daniel asked his wife, “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“From your mother,” said Meridia, taking Noah from him.
THEY LIVED OFF THE rest of the dowry while they waited. The fact that those gold bars were no longer hidden under her bed gave Meridia frequent chills. What if the partnership failed? Or Samuel turned out to be a swindler? And if Eva found out…She held the thoughts at bay by keeping busy. At least she still had the jewelry set from Gabriel. If worse came to worst, she could always pawn it.
A few days after the interview, Meridia was on her way home from the market when she sensed someone following her. She glanced over her shoulder, holding her packages tighter, but saw no one nearby. Majestic Avenue lay languid in a lambent haze. In the distance children were running, men smoking, women whispering. Meridia picked up her pace. Soon she was threading in and out of alleyways, moving as fast as she could, yet the sound of hurried breath persisted. When at last she turned into the brick-paved sanctuary of Willow Lane, a winded feminine voice appealed to her.
“Wait, please!”
Meridia whipped around, squinted her eyes at the approaching shadow. It took her a moment to recognize who it was.
“Pilar! You scared me!”
Patina’s sister was pale, thinner, quivering. The same bright yellow tunic she had on last time now looked dull and shabby.
“I’ve been waiting since sunrise,” she explained breathlessly. “I was awake all night—I didn’t know if I should talk to you.”
“What’s the matter?” Alarmed, Meridia placed the packages on the ground and took the older woman’s hand.
“It’s Patina. She’s ill.”
A cold wind blew and fluttered the long hems of Pilar’s dress. The scent of lilac that had previously perfumed her was now replaced by something akin to naphthalene.
“She’s been complaining of a sharp pain in her chest. I thought nothing of it, because who wouldn’t have a sharp pain if they had to live with that snake? But one day I was with her when the pain hit. One second she was fine, the next she was doubled over in agony. I begged her to let me take her to a doctor, but she refused, saying the money would be better spent elsewhere. I kept pleading and pleading, and after many weeks of pain and sleeplessness, she finally consented. The doctor who examined her said there’s a lump near her heart. It’s not too late to remove it, but it will be costly. This is the part where you won’t believe your ears! Patina didn’t even want to tell your mother-in-law about it, let alone ask her for money. “She’s got enough problems,” Patina told me. “This is my fate. Let me bear it on my own.” For once, I lost my patience with her. I stormed into the house and demanded to have a word with that viper. But your mother-in-law wouldn’t listen to me! She threw me out of the house and screamed for the whole world to hear that I should stop extorting money from her. Me! The one who used to make sure she wasn’t bitten by mosquitoes while she slept! If I had known she would turn out like this, I would have crushed her little skull when I had the chance!”
Pausing for breath, Pilar began scratching the crescent birthmark on her chin. The sharp lines around her mouth shivered like cobwebs in the breeze. In the one year since Meridia first met her, her grain-colored hair had turned a drab shade of gray.
“I don’t know where else to go,” Pilar said woefully. “It’s my last wish to bother you, now that you have a child to raise. But that demon has taken away Patina’s feet—don’t let her take her heart, too! If you have anything to spare, anything at all…”
Meridia did not hesitate. “How much do you need?”
Pilar named a sum that took Meridia by surprise. “Wait here,” she said, gathering her packages and disappearing into the house. A few minutes later, she returned with a diamond bracelet, a necklace, and a pair of earrings in her palm.
“Take them.”
Pilar stopped her scratching. At once tears came and blurred and smothered.
“They’re so beautiful. Are you sure?”
Meridia gave her the jewelry. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
All of a sudden Pilar seized her hand and kissed it. “You dear, dear angel!” she choked. “May heaven repay you a thousand times for this!”
Embarrassed, Meridia withdrew her hand. “There’s no need. Patina has always been kind to me.”
After Pilar left, Meridia stood in the street and bit her lip. The back of her blouse darkened with sweat the length of her spine. No one knew that under the loose floorboard in her bedroom lay a velvet jewelry box, the only thing she had taken with her when Eva ousted her from Orchard Road, but the contents of that box now occupied the front pocket of Pilar’s dress. With the dowry and the gold bars gone, she decided it would be wise not to tell Daniel.
THAT SAME EVENING, DANIEL returned from Orchard Road with news that Patina had a lump in her heart. Pilar, to everyone’s surprise, had agreed to pay for the surgery.
“It doesn’t add up,” he said, bewildered. “Where did she get that kind of money? As long as I’ve known Pilar, she could barely afford to buy herself shoes.”
Meridia went on feeding Noah, leaving Daniel to his confusion. The next morning, Eva and Elias came to Willow Lane to visit the baby. Meridia was making lunch in the kitchen when she heard Eva’s bees hard at work inside the shop.
“Who knows where she got that money. Probably stole it from an old letch after he deflated inside of her. I offered to pay for the operation, but she refused, saying it was her responsibility to take care of her sister. The way I see it, she just wanted to show off. In thirty years that vulture has done nothing but poison Patina against me, and now suddenly she’s a model of virtue and generosity. I’m telling you, there’s something fishy behind this, and I don’t like it one bit!”
Noah was laughing in his grandfather’s arms. For a long time it was the only sound competing with the bees.
TWENTY-TWO
They were cautious, perhaps overly so, and they made little. All around the house they hid Samuel’s inventory in flour sacks and shoeboxes, in tin oil drums and cookie canisters, exhibiting it only to customers who they knew shared no connection with Lotus Blossom Lane. They shuddered to imagine Eva’s wrath were she to find out, the curses she would rain down on them, and the unleashing of bees that would propel Elias to unimaginable deeds. Even when night fell, sleep did not come to them easily. They did not know when Eva or her spies might burst into the shop and catch them red-handed.
No matter how frugally Meridia budgeted, there was hardly money at the end of each month. Some days she felt capable of pawning her soul for a new pair of shoes, a tiny bottle of perfume, or a five-minute hair wash at the beauty parlor. It shamed her to see holes in Daniel’s socks and patches in her own nightgown, but to purchase even an extra bar of soap was out of the question. When money became truly scarce, she took to selling some of her better dresses. One evening, when Daniel returned from Orchard Road carrying a paper bag of his father’s hand-me-downs, she locked herself in the bathroom and wept. Noah, thankfully, was spared this. Elias saw to it that his grandson was handsomely clothed withou
t exception.
During this period, Eva dressed to the nines whenever she paid them a visit. Among her arsenal were a pink tweed jacket with gold buttons and a matching hat, a shimmering silk skirt edged with antique lace, and a diamond watch consulted every five minutes. Some of these items Meridia recognized as her own wedding presents. She gritted her teeth as Eva inspected her threadbare skirt and shoes, and quietly bore the knowing tilt of that perfectly made face that at once said nothing and everything. Her own skin was dry and rough. She had not allowed herself the luxury of a bottle of lotion.
One afternoon, Eva was about to leave the shop when she took a jar of cream from her purse and set it down grandly on the nearest table. “Use this,” she said with a flourish, to no one in particular, before departing. A day passed, then two, then three. Meridia left the cream alone. On the fourth day Eva returned, and finding the jar still untouched, she swept it into her purse in a fit of fury.
NOAH CONTINUED TO BE difficult. Between taking care of him, keeping the house, running the shop, and fending off Eva’s bees, Meridia was rapidly wearing herself out. Her figure diminished into a spare geometry of bones; her movements, once so light and nimble, slowed with exhaustion. The face of a stranger dwelled in her mirror, one whose eyes had dulled and whose cheeks drooped with pallor. One time, pleading with this reflection to smile, she was rewarded with a gashlike grin. Her horror knew no bounds when she noticed the resemblance between her face and that of the ghost of Monarch Street. How was it possible that being a mother made her less of a woman?
She recoiled further from Daniel’s touch. During the nights when she could not keep warm, she dreaded his embrace more than a rainstorm. Sometimes he caught her short without excuses, and out of guilt and duty, she yielded. She took her part without zeal or pleasure, touched him where he liked to be touched, even uttered her cry without missing her mark. But he was not fooled, and she knew it. In the feeble heat of her moan he detected winter. At such times it appeared that no matter how long he chipped at it, he would never break the ice at the center of her being.
Afterward, always, she turned to the wall and hid from him. When he asked, she smiled and told him she was worried. The shop. Noah’s eating habits. Eva’s demands. “I might have to beg Papa for money soon.” What she did not say was now that she could give him no more children, the last thing she wanted was to look in his eyes and wonder if he remained unchanged.
A REPRIEVE CAME ONE cloudy morning in November. After a long absence, Ravenna emerged from the solitude of her kitchen, put on her winter coat (black according to Leah, white to Rebecca), and set off through the fog to 175 Willow Lane. Her arrival chased Daniel into the shop, but Meridia, breathing in the scent of verbena from her bedroom window, was overjoyed.
“Child, why are you starving yourself?”
From her basket Ravenna produced food in red lacquer boxes, toys for the baby, avocado oil for Meridia’s hair and jojoba cream for her skin. Noah—the little imp!—behaved like an angel in front of his grandmother. When she chanted to him in her guttural voice, he fell asleep right away. That day, Meridia learned to feed the baby sugared water to calm him, to massage the soles of his feet when he was restless, and to cure mosquito bites with warm eucalyptus paste. Before leaving, Ravenna told her, “Bring him to the house when he’s six months old. It’s time he meets his grandfather.”
After dinner that evening, Meridia found a blue envelope tucked under the mat outside the kitchen door. In it, she counted enough money to last them a month. There was no writing, no scent, no signature. Slipping the envelope into her pocket, Meridia whispered to herself the thanks Ravenna would never claim.
On the morning of December 6, she dressed Noah in his finest clothes and took him to Monarch Street. Ravenna was nowhere to be seen, but a maid she did not recognize told her that Gabriel was in the study. At the door, Meridia paused to take three deep breaths, then walked in with Noah propped high on her arm. Seated behind the monumental desk in a fawn linen suit and a luminous brown tie, Gabriel did not spare her a glance until she greeted him. Even then his handsome gray head was slow to lift, his hard eyes regarding her as if she were no more than a blur. “Let me hold him,” he ordered her. She went around the desk and gave him Noah. Gabriel took his grandson by the armpit, shook him once, and held him at arm’s length. Terrified, Noah made pitiful faces, but let no sound escape his lips. Meridia remembered how she herself had been studied and dissected until her blood, rebelling, spilled onto the rug. Wishing to spare Noah of this, she began to reach for him when Gabriel’s chuckle stopped her.
“He’s a fine boy,” he said. “Bring him here every year on his birthday.”
Gabriel then did something unthinkable—he drew the baby close and kissed him on the brow. Meridia’s eyes welled up. It was a kiss he had never deigned to give her.
Noah continued to make no sound until they were outside. Only then did he cry and wet himself, a long golden stream that did not stop for two full minutes.
THREE MONTHS AFTER THE partnership started, Samuel the dealer expressed his disappointment with Willow Lane’s performance.
“These pieces need to be displayed prominently, not hidden in sacks and cookie canisters. Why, they’re more valuable than those trinkets you have out front! I don’t care what kind of a family crisis you’re in, but when we agreed to do business, I was under the impression you were going to do your best to make it a success.”
“Give us a few months,” pleaded Daniel. “We have a plan but it takes time.”
“I’ll give you one month,” said Samuel. “Thirty days from now, if I don’t see those jewels sparkling from the window, I’ll find myself a new partner.”
The couple panicked. How were they to avoid Eva’s discovery? For sure they would be denounced as liars. Thieves. Ingrates. They would lose Orchard Road’s backing, the stipend, the shop, the house. Adding to the murk was Gabriel’s threat that Monarch Street would keep its doors shut. Quickly, the weeks passed without a solution. Three days before Samuel’s deadline, an accidental discovery blew their cover for good.
That afternoon, Elias came to Willow Lane alone to visit Noah. He was watching the baby sleep in the living room when he had the sudden urge to drink tea. Not wishing to disturb Daniel or Meridia at the shop, Elias went into the kitchen and boiled himself water. Rummaging through the pantry, he found a large tea tin next to a flour sack and opened it. Instead of tea leaves, small velvet boxes lined the inside. He took one out and opened it—a ring of diamonds and cabochon rubies. He opened another—a pendant with four pink pearls. His trained jeweler’s eyes instantly recognized the craftsmanship.
He attacked the flour sack next, the cookie canisters, the lidded ceramic jars labeled innocuously as COOKING OIL. All concealed jewelry in their bellies. Shutting off the stove, Elias gathered a handful of the boxes and returned to the living room. For a long time his gaze alternated between the sleeping baby and the boxes, smiling at one, glaring at the other. And then he went into the shop.
Hiding his hands behind his back, Elias waited until all the customers left before he spoke.
“You shouldn’t leave these lying around in the kitchen.” He dropped the boxes on the counter and saw color drain from his son’s and daughter-in-law’s faces. A crazed, manic gleam flashed through his eyes, charging the air with something irreversible.
“Papa, I can explain,” said Daniel.
“I’ve seen enough,” Elias said, stopping him briskly. “I will tell your mother that from now on, as a favor to my friend Samuel, I’ll allow him to sell his jewelry here at your shop. I’ll tell her that I will settle the accounts directly with that bushy goat.”
It took Daniel and Meridia a while to grasp this.
“Papa, what are you saying?”
“Don’t be dim, son. Dig out those pieces and display them, front and center, where they belong.”
Elias headed for the door. Daniel followed him. Before he could speak, Elias wheeled around and cut
him with a glare.
“Don’t say a word to me. This is for Noah.”
And so on the thirtieth day, when Samuel returned to Willow Lane, he had nothing but smiles when he saw his jewelry sparkling in the display cases.
“Do you know my father-in-law?” asked Meridia.
“Only by name,” said Samuel. “Why do you ask?”
“You may call him a friend if you wish,” she replied cryptically.
SOMEHOW, AGAINST ALL EXPECTATIONS, Elias managed it. When Eva next came to the shop, she looked positively irritable, but not murderous. For the better part of an hour, she stood in front of the display cases patronizing Samuel’s jewelry with a scowl.
“Your father said he owed this man a favor from ages ago, and now he’s demanding him to repay it. He had some nerve asking your father to carry his trinkets at Lotus Blossom Lane, but your father told him outright they didn’t belong there. ‘My son’s store will be a more suitable place,’ he said. I must say, for once, that I agree with him. Look at that topaz ring—it screams tasteless from here to next week! Your father is sorry you’re burdened with them. I hope they won’t be too difficult to get rid of.”
When Eva left, the house turned quiet and stayed quiet. Along with Eva’s voice, some other great noise seemed to have been muted. For the rest of the day, Meridia went about her chores listening for the missing sound. The pipes still bewailed their ancient joints, the stove whirred, the rafters grunted. The wind puffed between the trees and buffeted the roof in endless gusts. What was it then that had been silenced? It was not until nightfall that the answer hit her. Noah had not cried since Eva left. Laughed he had, belched even, but cried, no. Unable to control herself, Meridia swept up her son from his bassinet and kissed him, once, twice, twenty times, laughing, crying, spinning with him around the room until the fire in her heart threatened to consume her. His difficult days were over. She was sure of it just as she was sure that the bold, bright thing she glimpsed in his eyes was the future, stretching its hand toward her.
Of Bees and Mist Page 21
