by Yossi Porat
The pilot announced their impending landing, and as the wheels kissed the ground, Deborah removed her seatbelt and held onto her handbag. She exited the plane slowly, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. As she was leaving the airport, she heard her cell phone ring.
She heard Raphael. “Deborah? Have you arrived?”
“Just this minute. I’m outside the airport, looking for a taxi.”
“You don’t need a taxi!” Raphael laughed. “I’ve ordered you a limousine. Didn’t you see a driver holding a sign with your name on it?”
“Raphael is very efficient,” Deborah thought as she approached the driver.
The driver smiled, opened the door, and with a flourish, invited Deborah in, “Prego, madam.” Deborah noticed his broad grin, and wondered what the driver was so happy about.
And then she saw him – Raphael was sitting in the limousine, waiting for her! “How did I not realize that he would want to continue being with me?” she thought. Raphael was holding two flutes of champagne, and held one out to her with a smile.
“How did you manage to get here before me?” she smiled, feeling her skin prickle in anticipation.
“I took an earlier flight. I’ve been here for an hour,” leaning in and trying to kiss her.
“Not now,” she pulled back. “I was sick on the plane and I’m not at my best. I’d like to freshen up first.” She thought about what an experienced suitor this man was – making such an effort to be with her.
Raphael looked abashed, ordering the driver, “Via Aurelia 402.” Turning to Deborah, he explained, “We’ll be staying near the office. I’ve ordered a suite at the Hotel Aureliano, the best in Rome.”
Deborah’s feelings of guilt and foreboding suddenly slipped away from her, and she moved in closer to Raphael. She smoothed her hand over his head, gazing with desire at the back of his neck and his profile. As they entered the suite, however, Deborah again began to feel uncomfortable, pushing Raphael away. “I must freshen up before we go see the office. We have a long day in front of us.” Raphael felt rebuked, like a small boy by his mother. He thought dejectedly also of his wife, turning him away with complaints of a headache.
Deborah entered the enormous bathroom, while Raphael sat down at his laptop, trying to ignore the bustling noises of the traffic on the street below. Deborah left the bathroom wrapped in a large towel, pulled down the sheets and lay on the bed, feigning sleep. She hoped Raphael would not join her.
When Deborah awoke, Raphael was lying by her side, watching her. Trembling slightly, she slid off the bed and dressed hurriedly. “Please, let’s go to the new office,” she requested, and Raphael, followed her out of the suite with ill grace.
As they left the hotel, Deborah felt that warm feeling pervading her again along her spine. She put her hand on Raphael’s arm and together they strode toward the office. Raphael opened the entrance door with the key in his pocket, and with a gentlemanly sweep of his arm, directed Deborah to enter. With his hand resting lightly on her bottom, he made sure to lock the door after him.
They both felt the sudden coldness between them. Raphael was at a loss. “What happened to the woman who was so passionate, so alive?” he thought. Meanwhile, Deborah was looking with satisfaction at the results of her planning, explaining to Raphael the principles of Feng Shui that had guided her in trying to ensure that the office was a pleasant environment for both clients and staff. Raphael barely listened, troubled by the changes in Deborah. He decided he had to return to London as quickly as possible. However, as they were leaving, she told him to leave some windows open for ventilation.
The open windows let in a breath of fresh air, and Deborah stepped back, breathing, with sparkling eyes, watching Raphael. He was astounded as she approached him and kissed him passionately on the lips, reaching a hand down to his crotch, massaging him. Deborah put him in her mouth, while he moaned in pleasure. Done, Raphael arranged his clothes and they left the office wordlessly.
The dinner that night was a work of art, as only a real Italian meal can be. Their table was decorated with a lilac-filled vase, exuding the most heavenly scent imaginable. Raphael poured their Bollinger champagne into elegant crystal flutes, as they began their meal with a plate of antipasti and a three-pepper terrine. The main course was pasta in an asparagus sauce, while the dessert included small tastings of apricot parfait and small balls of chocolate with whipped cream. The final sips of limoncello reminded Deborah of the trip she and Lance had made to the Amalfi coast, home of the tart, strong drink.
Back in their hotel room, naked, Deborah again felt disappointed. She didn’t know how to explain her behavior. She felt the waves of heat running up and down her spine, and turning to Raphael she apologized, covering herself with the satin sheets and falling asleep, lulled into an alcoholic spell. Raphael lay on the bed, confused and disappointed. “I guess she’s like all the other women, with these strange mood swings.”
The next morning at 7:30 she felt the vibration of her cell phone. “How are you, darling?” Lance’s loving voice came over the phone to her. She put her finger to her lips to signal to Raphael to be quiet as she answered her husband, asking about the children. She saw Raphael smile out of the corner of her eye.
“The boys are fine,” Lance assured her. “Don’t worry – I’ll be waiting for you at the airport tonight.”
“Thanks, darling. And kisses to the boys.” She hung up, feeling shy and embarrassed in front of her lover.
Raphael tried to approach her, but she disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door. When she came out, dressed in light brown slacks and a crisp white shirt, she announced that she was going down to the dining room for coffee.
As the couple sat with their coffee in the hotel dining room, Deborah decided to be honest with Raphael. “Raphael,” she began, “lately I don’t understand what’s been happening to me. I’ve been acting completely out of character and I don’t know why. I think it would be better if we don’t see each other for a while. What do you think?”
“Don’t worry, darling,” Raphael put his hand over hers. But she pulled away, saying “I really do want to stop, Raphael, please. I must try to understand what’s happening to me.”
Raphael did not want a vocal confrontation and he reluctantly agreed. They left the hotel for a final meeting at the office with the architect and several contractors. As Raphael drove Deborah to the airport, he felt that he, too, must try to come to the bottom of her behavior. Kissing her good-bye with a light peck on the cheek, he got back into the limousine and drove away.
On the flight back, Deborah tried to analyze her situation. She tried to remember her feelings before her first encounter with Raphael, tried to think of any reason for dissatisfaction with Lance. She could not understand why she would risk everything dear to her. She began to feel dizzy and nauseated and grabbed the sick bag, breathing in and out to calm herself. She left the plane still feeling dizzy.
She found Lance and the boys eagerly awaiting her and she hugged them tightly. “Lance,” she whispered, “something strange is happening to me. We have to talk as soon as we get home.”
Lance stroked her head and face, “Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be fine.”
Her homecoming made her feel safe. After dinner she read stories to the twins, kissed them good-night and came downstairs to a waiting Lance. She sat down, remembering the birth of the boys, Lance holding her hand, giving her strength, wiping her brow. But now she felt suddenly clammy and wet, feeling immense love for Lance and her children and wondering how she could have been so mad as to risk it all.
“Lance,” she whispered, deciding to be as honest as she could, “something is happening to me. I’m not myself. Sometimes I feel hot waves going over me, followed by cold ones, especially in my head and neck. I’m pressured at work, and on the flight to Rome I was sick. Maybe it’s menopause?”
Lance hugged her gently, thinking that this was all probably the result of her new responsibilit
ies for the Rome office. “Relax, darling,” he soothed. “Don’t worry – you’ll be fine, and you’ll be the success you always are. Besides, you know how much I love you.”
Deborah felt a rush of warm tears on her cheeks, and she pushed her face into
Lance’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Deborah. Trust me – everything will be fine” He wiped her tears with his left hand, hugging her with his right, sending waves of love and trust to her. Deborah hugged him back, wondering if she should tell him of her affair, deciding to wait.
As they lay in bed, Deborah felt how Lance was completely hers, and she felt safe and protected again.
“Good night, darling. I love you so much,” she whispered softly as she closed her eyes.
He kissed her hair, reached over and turned out the light.
Deborah could not fall asleep. The heat in her head continued to bother her and her unexplainable mood swings bothered her. “I have to talk to someone,” she thought as she finally fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
Adam, sleep still in his eyes, asked Andrew, “So how do you propose to solve the screening problem?”
Andrew answered in a level, steely voice, “I’ve consulted with our communications expert, and his advice was to strengthen the algorithm and amplify our broadcast capabilities. We’ve got an amplifier in our lab in India that exactly fits the bill, and we can install it in the cell-phones. As you know, the reception quality of cell-phones changes from minute to minute, especially if it’s in movement from place to place. Our amplifier is attached underneath the phone’s battery, next to the antenna. It receives the signals, filters them, and transfers them in one bundle to the antenna, so the reception becomes better and clearer. A full battery gives the antenna more power, and we’re in the process of developing a battery that can last for days without a recharge.” Andrew was getting impatient with explaining these obvious developments to his less-technologically advanced partner. “Soon we’ll be fixing the cell-phones of 1002 and 1003 with these components.”
“But what about the dangers from radiation?” Adam was insistent.
“I have no idea and I really don’t care,” Andrew replied off-handedly. “We want to progress, don’t we? Just think of all the money we’ll be making!”
“I’ve been talking to my friend, the doctor of Chinese medicine, who is also an expert on the brain. We must ask him about the dangers involved – he really knows what he’s talking about! You know, he also studied conventional medicine at Harvard, specializing in neurology and the brain. He says we must make the broadcasts to the brain even more efficient. But because our experimental group has only two people, it’s hard to tell what the effect on the brain is and will be. So I guess you’re right, Andrew – we just have to keep going and perfecting the product.”
…..
Lance was awakened by a dull thud. He got up quietly from the bed, careful not to wake Deborah, and started down the stairs. Everything was quiet. He was beginning to doubt what he had heard. Hearing nothing further, he returned to bed and to his sleeping wife.
But then he heard a squeaking noise, and voices whispering heatedly. His heart beating rapidly, he again started down the stairs. But he thought better of going down unarmed, and decided he should be confronting whoever it was with some kind of weapon. Hurrying back upstairs, he drew out one of his golf clubs from the hall closet. Holding it over his head, he hurried down the stairs, only to see two black-clad figures by the front door. One of the figures turned around, saw him and came rushing, but Lance was able to wield the golf club and send him to the floor, gasping in pain. When the second figure rushed at him, he again was able to push him down, but there was enough time for the first intruder to stand up and overpower Lance quickly with a hard punch in the face. Lance could tell these were no amateurs – they knew what they were doing, he thought, as a second punch to his belly knocked the wind out of him. He tried another blow with the golf club, but missed the first intruder, who knocked him down and was approaching him, knife in hand. He bent over him, knife at Lance’s throat.
“Freeze, both of you,” he heard Deborah in a calm, cold voice behind him. “I’ve got a gun on you and I won’t hesitate to use it. Get up off my husband and throw the knife down.”
Lance saw Deborah holding the black plastic gun he had bought for the boys last week. How lucky that he had bought the most expensive model – it looked absolutely real!
“Sorry, lady, but I think we’ve got a draw here. As fast as you can shoot my partner, I can stick this knife into your husband,” the burglar snarled, his English accented with foreign undertones. “We’ll just leave by the front door, and no one will get hurt.”
As the two closed the front door behind them, Lance tried to get up on his wobbling legs, and limped over to his wife. They looked out the front window, but saw only an empty street, and he began to wonder if it was only a dream. Locking the door behind them, they went slowly up the stairs, looked in on the boys, who had slept through it all, and then returned to the sitting room downstairs. They turned on all the lights, trying to discover if anything had been stolen.
“Should we call the police?” Lance wondered.
“I’ll call our security company,” Deborah replied. When she did, the operator was surprised – he had received no signal from their home security system. “This is professional work,” he said, and advised them to call the police immediately. Deborah and Lance decided to wait until morning, as they could find nothing missing, and they did not want the boys to be frightened by a commotion. They passed the night until the dawn, lights blazing all over the house, sitting hand in hand.
…..
Deborah was thinking of her courtship with Lance. She remembered the first time they met. She was studying in the university cafeteria, alone with her books, and a handsome young man sat down at the table next to hers. Deborah could feel that she wanted to look him over, sensing that he was doing the same to her. Although she was a very popular girl, she suddenly felt shy. He smiled straight at her, and without any attempt at a sophisticated pick-up line, simply smiled and asked her if he could join her. Blushing, she agreed, and so it began.
On their first date, it became obvious to Deborah how different he was from her usual run of boyfriends. He was serious, focused on his studies, and she could see that he had no need for any kind of bragging. They talked of
politics, history, economics – and he showed a wide range of knowledge. He was even able to help her with her economics course, the one course she had been afraid of failing.
As they left the cafeteria that day, Lance put his hand on her shoulder, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He led her with a confident air to her little apartment above the newspaper store. But when she asked him if he would like to come up for coffee, he smilingly refused and just asked for her phone number.
The next evening, Deborah stood on the landing leading to Lance’s small apartment. She could hear the strains of the violin he was playing and was touched by his heart-felt, imperfect performance. Talking to her mother, who was her best friend, that afternoon, she had described Lance in infinite detail. Her mother decreed that he sounded like he was “The One,” and Deborah felt tears of joy running down her cheeks. “Oh, I hope so!” she sighed.
She ran up the stairs to his room and entered a light, airy space, furnished with simplicity and taste. A vase of lovely red roses sat in the middle of a small dining table, and the inviting aroma of pasta and tomato sauce wafted over to her from the small galley kitchen. Lance lit two long candles on their dining table and invited her to take a seat. They ate and drank as if they had known each other for years, letting the wine and the food carry them along. After dinner, they talked of their plans for the future, Deborah sharing her dream of success in the business world. When Lance brought out the Suchard chocolates, Deborah knew that he really was “The One.” Lance picked her up and brought her to his bed.
Deborah woke up the next morning in
Lance’s bed, clad only in her underpants. “Oh my God, what happened last night?”
Lance smiled, “Nothing. You fell asleep right away. I just took off your clothes so you would be more comfortable, that’s all!” She opened her wide blue eyes invitingly. “Well, now you can take advantage of me, if you want.”
And so he did, to the delight of both of them.
After the wedding, Lance proved himself to be the dream husband and father she had always wished for. Supportive, helpful, loving – much more so than her friends’ husbands, as far as she could tell. They were the center of each other’s worlds, she thought. As much as she had succeeded in her chosen profession, so had he, rising to partner in his prestigious law firm at a young age and well-respected for his learning and probity. She could not have been prouder or happier.
…..
Lance woke with a start the next morning and found Deborah watching him with her big blue eyes. He stroked her face gently and asked, “Did you manage to sleep at all?” “Very little, and you?” “Not too well, I’m afraid.”
