Unreasonable Doubts

by Reyna Marder Gentin

  After a few more half-hearted attempts at convincing Liana, Katie gave up. When her phone rang again a few minutes later, she assumed it was Katie calling back, having come up with a new angle. She let the call go through to her voice-mail and then listened as it played in her living room.

  “Liana,” a man’s voice said, “it’s Steven. If you’re there, can you pick up please?” Although she felt that she almost couldn’t bear it, Liana reached for the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, hi, Liana. Great, I caught you. I wish I had something better to tell you. We took Deb to hospice today at Bellevue Hospital.” Liana could hear Steven’s new baby crying in the background of his apartment. She felt a pang of jealousy on Deb’s behalf, and then she remembered how devoted Steven had been over these many months. Liana was glad that he’d go on with a new start and that Max would have a baby sister.

  “Deb probably doesn’t have long,” he continued. “The doctors want her parents to consider taking her off nutrition, but it isn’t happening right away. Anyway, she’s on a lot of pain-killers, but if you wanted to come see her, I think it’d be okay.” He sounded fried but tranquil, as if he knew he’d done all he could. Certainly, he had.

  “Thanks for calling, Steven. I’ll definitely come this afternoon. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.

  “No, I’m doing okay. I have Max with me, and he’s the best medicine. Just come see Deb. You’ve been a good friend, Liana. It’ll mean a lot to her.” Liana would repeat those words to herself many times in the days to come, taking solace that she had managed to achieve something of what Deb had demanded and deserved.

  Liana contemplated calling Gerry and giving him the heads-up but figured that if Deb wanted Gerry to visit, she’d let Steven know to contact him. She decided to spruce herself up—Deb hated a slob. She put on a cute dress she had bought the summer before at the flea market on Seventy-Sixth Street and a new pair of pink flats that wouldn’t quite meet Deb’s footwear standards but at least wouldn’t upset her. Liana poured a ton of gel into her hair and mostly succeeded in making the curls manageable, if stiff; put on a little lip gloss; and spritzed herself with Chanel No. 5, her only cosmetic indulgence. Before she got on the subway at Seventy-Second Street to go downtown, she bought copies of People and Vogue. She knew she wasn’t kidding anyone about Deb’s condition or interest in reading silly magazines, but her mother had ingrained in her not to arrive anywhere empty-handed.

  When she got to Bellevue, Deb looked worse than Liana had expected from Steven’s relatively modulated telephone call.

  How incredibly vibrant Deb had been, larger than life almost!

  She had been the kind of Upper West Side woman who shopped only at Zabar’s—even for regular groceries like yogurt and peanut butter—brunched on sable and whitefish at Barney Greengrass, and took salsa lessons, solo, in the basement apartment of “some guy named Carlos” on Columbus Avenue. Liana couldn’t think of a word to describe how frail Deb was now.

  Deb perked up as soon as Liana walked into the room. “Oh,” she whispered, “you look nice. And you’ve taken the time off in the middle of a workday to come and visit me. I hope you won’t miss quota because of this,” she quipped. Liana didn’t have the heart to tell her it was Saturday.

  How could a person possibly keep track of the days of the week in a place like this?

  “I might not make quota if I stayed at the office night and day for the next two months,” Liana confessed.

  “Why’s that?” Deb wanted to know.

  Liana wasn’t sure how to start or how much her dying friend really needed to hear. But she had always relied on Deb’s good counsel, and she didn’t think that trying to pull the wool over her eyes at this point made a whole lot of sense. She thought for a moment and then said, “Work sucks without you there, and things are kind of a mess with Jakob too.”

  Deb’s whole demeanor changed, although Liana had trouble deciphering whether it was anger or pain that transformed her features. She tried to sit up, but when she didn’t have the strength, Liana moved her chair closer to the bed. Mercifully, the bells and whistles and wires had been almost entirely removed; Liana was glad not to have tangled again with the medical interventions, but it hit her like a punch to the gut that it was no longer necessary for the nurses to come running anymore if Deb began to fail.

  “Please tell me that whatever’s going on with Jakob has nothing to do with Danny Shea,” Deb whispered.

  “No, Deb, it has nothing to do with Danny Shea.”

  Well, that’s not entirely true.

  Her encounters with Danny—who believed Liana was sent from heaven and who was prepared to wait patiently to devote himself entirely to her, body and soul—had revealed how boxed in and distant from Jakob she often felt. Liana smiled at Deb and told her not to worry. Deb looked skeptical.

  “Listen, you bequeathed me Danny Shea,” Liana said, trying for a laugh. “You must have had your reasons.” It was a notion that had come to her repeatedly, as though Danny were Deb’s parting gift to her and that fighting for Danny was fighting for Deb too.

  With great resolve, Deb reached out and took Liana’s sleeve, pulling her closer. “Keep your wits about you, Cohen. Don’t get so bamboozled by the bad guy that you forget who the good guy is here. Jakob is your good guy.”

  To change the topic, Liana filled Deb in on whatever petty gossip she could think of from the office—how Gerry had so intimidated a new attorney that he’d quit after filing his first brief; how the communal refrigerator had been taken over by a form of mold never before scientifically identified; how Bobby spent most of his days playing solitaire on his computer but had ingeniously programmed a button that he could press and a fake brief would appear instead of his hand of cards. It was all so incredibly stupid, but Deb was grateful.

  When it was time to go, Liana gave Deb a quick and gentle squeeze. As the women separated, Deb said, “You’ll remember about Rabbi Nacht, right? I’m sorry, Liana, but this time it will be soon.”

  “I’ll remember,” Liana said. “He’s a good guy too. He’ll come through.” She looked at Deb lying helplessly in the bed. She wished she hadn’t burdened her with her own problems—that she had told her, true or not, that she and Jakob were getting married and would live happily ever after. But Deb had no patience for dissembling, and she would have been the first to understand that life was complicated.

  Liana walked over to Steven and gave him a hug. “You’re the best,” she said quietly. She turned back to Deb and tried for a casual wave, as though they’d see each other again soon. Deb blew her a kiss.

  “El na, refah na la. El na, refah na la. El na, refah na la. . . .”

  CHAPTER 22

  To Jakob’s credit, he’d cleared his calendar and suggested any number of expensive restaurants to celebrate Liana’s thirtieth birthday, but she just couldn’t get excited about anything. She walked through her days as if she were in some weird underwater attraction at a theme park she couldn’t escape. Katie and Charlotte were appalled that their offer to throw her a party had been rebuffed, and even her mother had settled for buying her a lovely pair of earrings instead of spending some part of the day with her.

  “It’s a big birthday, Li. Don’t just let it pass by—let’s celebrate,” Jakob had said on the telephone the night before.

  “It’s Cinco de Mayo. Let’s go out for tacos and margaritas. That’d be enough for me. Maybe you could look into it and pick a good place,” she suggested.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” he said. For some reason that Liana couldn’t quite fathom, Jakob was pretending everything was normal between them.

  Is he so completely consumed by work that he hasn’t noticed the strain, or is he in mega-denial that anything has changed?

  In her lowest hours, when she had trouble seeing her way back to Jakob and to how things had been, she felt the temptation of Danny Shea abuzz in the air around her. She knew
, for a certainty, that he’d be by her side at the slightest invitation, grateful to be close and ready to take care of her. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Sometimes it was almost too hard to resist.

  When Liana awoke on her birthday, instead of the clarity with which she’d hoped she’d greet the day, she was hit with a powerful malaise. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that this deadline had been self-imposed, that Jakob was unaware of it, and that she could let it pass with no one the wiser. Perhaps this wasn’t the day for grand declarations.

  Maybe I’ll just let the moment go.

  They met in Greenwich Village at an upscale Mexican place that Frank had recommended—he had met his latest young squeeze, Estrella, when she’d waited on his table there the week before. Jakob looked handsome but tired, and Liana almost wished she’d told him to take a nap instead of taking her out. “I’m thrilled to be here,” he said, reacting to something Liana hadn’t verbalized but obviously had communicated. “This is the first Sunday I’ve had off in weeks.”

  They ate quesadillas and drank tequila, listening to the mariachi band. The restaurant was dark and noisy, filled with Anglos appropriating someone else’s holiday, and they hung out together without having to talk much, which suited them both. When they were finished eating, Jakob paid the bill, and they sat a few more minutes. It was almost eight but still light out.

  “You know what I’d like to do?” Jakob asked.

  “Tell me,” Liana said.

  “Let’s walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. I never have, and it’s supposed to be beautiful, especially at night.”

  Jakob liked to walk more than anyone Liana knew. Together they’d walk for miles, wherever they were—in the city on the weekends or on the beach on vacation—in the early morning or late at night. Sometimes they’d talk; more often now, they’d each be lost in thought, and they’d walk together, exchanging hardly a word but comfortable in the shared silence.

  “That sounds lovely,” Liana said. They took the number 4 train down to the foot of the bridge on the Manhattan side and started to stroll toward Brooklyn. Holding hands, they matched their pace and their breathing to each other’s.

  It’s so easy to fall back into the comfort of him.

  When they reached the center of the span, they stopped walking and leaned on the steel girders, looking out over the water at the Statue of Liberty, just like the night they met. The city seemed eerily quiet from this vantage point, and even the thrum of the cars driving below them was soothing. They stood that way for a few minutes, not wanting to break the spell and oblivious to the other pedestrians and bicyclists making their way to the Brooklyn side of the bridge. When Jakob gently removed his arm from around her shoulders, Liana turned to find him down on one knee, an open Tiffany’s box with a beautiful diamond ring in his outstretched hand.

  “Marry me, Liana,” he said—not a question, but his voice was touched with apprehension.

  “Oh, Jay,” she said, her hand over her mouth as she took a couple of steps backward, away from him.

  He stood up slowly and came close to her, as one would approach a fearful child, and took her hand. “That doesn’t sound like the resounding ‘yes’ I was hoping for,” he said, smiling tentatively.

  How can I say no to the man I love? But can I accept if I’m not one-hundred-percent sure?

  “I so wish I could say yes, Jakob. I’m just not certain of where I fit into your world, and I don’t want us to make a terrible mistake,” Liana said, tears beginning to run down her face.

  Jakob pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her and speaking quietly into her ear. “I don’t know where you got that notion, Li, but you are my world. Let me be certain enough for both of us,” he said, his hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “Please.”

  She pulled away and wrapped her arms around herself in a protective hug. Jakob put his hands, Tiffany box and all, on top of his head, as if to physically hold himself together.

  “Li, don’t you understand? I’ll be totally lost without you. I don’t know what kind of proof of my love you need.”

  Proof beyond a reasonable doubt.

  She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she began to walk slowly away. Jakob followed her.

  They reached the other side of the bridge, the warehouses and lampposts of Brooklyn Heights stretched out before them. Liana felt that going across had been much more than just a physical journey—she had crossed into another place in her life, and right now, that place didn’t include Jakob. She had a gut feeling that she should not walk back across the bridge to Manhattan with him tonight—that it would set her back and destroy whatever progress she had made.

  “I wish more than anything that I could say yes, Jay. But you have your life figured out, and I’m still a work in progress. I’m not sure that’s a good combination.”

  She looked out over Brooklyn, to the courthouses and the streets she knew so well.

  “I’m going to walk a bit more on this side of the bridge before I go home. Don’t worry, its perfectly safe here.” Liana kissed Jakob on the cheek and walked away. He hadn’t said another word. When she looked back, he was still standing at the foot of the bridge, the small blue box in his hand, as if he didn’t know what to do next. She had an almost irresistible urge to go back, to tell him she’d changed her mind, and to put the ring on her finger.

  But sometimes you have to fish or cut bait.

  Liana walked the blocks of Brooklyn Heights for half an hour, trying to steady herself and clear her head. When she found herself on Montague Street, she went into the Starbucks. Simone was behind the counter again.

  “I’ll have a children’s small hot chocolate with whipped cream, please, Simone,” she said. “And don’t even think about telling me I’m too old.” Simone looked past her, and Liana realized she was looking to see if the dashing Danny Shea was with her again.

  “No, he’s not here,” she said. “I’m all alone.”

  She took the subway from Brooklyn, walking from the station on the Upper West Side, lost in thought as she rounded the corner from Amsterdam Avenue to Seventy-Sixth Street, heading to her apartment. Although she didn’t see him, she could feel that Danny was near, like an electrical current sizzling in the air.

  How did he find me?

  A shiver of dread and desire ran up her back, and she quickened her step, opening the always unlocked door of the funeral home and stepping inside the lobby.

  “Can I help you, miss?” the night security guard asked.

  “Is it okay if I stay here for a few minutes? I thought someone might be following me,” Liana said.

  “Of course,” he said. “Always glad for a little company. Gets mighty quiet in here sometimes.”

  When she was no longer shaking, Liana thanked the guard and quickly traversed the hundred feet to her building, glancing over her shoulder. She got into her apartment, a little before eleven, and saw the message light flashing on her land-line. She had turned off the ringer on her cell, and there was a message waiting there as well. She half expected it to be Jakob asking for a do-over or at least checking that she had gotten home safely, which made Steven’s voice especially jarring.

  “Liana, Deb’s very bad. She’s holding on, but I think it’d be a good time for you to call your rabbi, if you’re still willing to do that. Please let me know if I can help.”

  Liana picked up her cell. She wasn’t sure of the etiquette of calling the rabbi at home at eleven o’clock on a Sunday night. She reasoned that he must be accustomed to emergencies, recalling his calm and strength when she had witnessed him receive the call in his study the day she’d gone to speak with him. She reached him right away. The rabbi remembered their recent conversation about Deb, and it took Liana just a few minutes to explain Deb’s request that Liana involve him and ease the burden for her elderly parents. The rabbi was compassionate and patient and immediately took control of the situation in a way that Liana found overwhelmingly
reassuring. She was out of her depth, playing a role in Deb’s life and death that she never could have foreseen. And while she was honored to help in this way, it was also dreadfully frightening.

  “Liana, you need to call Riverside Chapel tonight,” the rabbi said.

  “But she isn’t dead yet,” Liana protested. The thought of Deb reposing on the corner of her block, where she herself had just taken refuge, was almost too much for her.

  “They’ll wait. But it’s good to give them the heads-up. And tell them you want the Orthodox preparation for Deb,” he instructed.

  “But she’s not Orthodox,” Liana stammered, suddenly confused and not at all sure of what she was doing.

  “All it means is that everything will be done according to the tradition. That’s what Deb wants, right?” he asked patiently.

  “Yes,” Liana said, grateful that the rabbi hadn’t referred to Deb in the past tense. There’d be plenty of time for that. They discussed the logistics of the funeral—it would be grave-side, as Deb had requested, her final attempt to keep the day more manageable for her parents—and the shiva, which would be held at their apartment.

  “Do you think Deb’s parents would want me to speak briefly at the service?” the rabbi asked.

  Liana thought back to Zach and Maggie’s wedding, remembering how the rabbi had done his best, but there was no covering for the fact that he didn’t know the bride and groom.

  “I will ask them, but I think her brothers will speak, and maybe some friends,” she said, wondering if she too would eulogize her friend. She had been unable to speak at her father’s funeral, too overcome with emotion, and she’d regretted it ever since.

  “Do you think maybe you could sing at the cemetery?” Liana asked.

  “That would be unusual,” he paused, “but why not?”

  Liana was glad her rabbi didn’t always play by the rules.