A Sorority of Angels (24 page)

City lights were turning on blunting stars. A fading dark blue horizon changed to shades of orange. The spring evening was cool and air quality, healthy. Day had been cloudless; a rare Montana sky over New York. Second Avenue was bright and alive as Alise headed south along its east side to the restaurant. The ‘moment of truth’ neared and being objective was Alise’s mindset. Unsure about Ali, an abortion, and her future she wished her inner glow was as bright as the city. There still wasn’t a light shining in her life.

Conversation tonight should be awkward, redundant. They trampled the subject before. Replays never change anything. What could she say to change his decision’s direction? What could he say – nothing new, leftovers from hours arguing – no sense being morbid? If he loved her, he’d overcome his self-inflicted barriers regarding her past. She was unable to grasp his thinking. So what if she had numerous men as opposed to his taking the attitude of her married several times before? Was it a crime she wasn’t a virgin when they met? If she were, they wouldn’t have met. And that was long ago. Her whole life, her mind and body, her sexual system functioned for him. Why was he demeaning, backward, and impersonal? All along, she thought she understood him; felt safe and secure; never saw the ending. What could she say? She would lose. Default by pregnancy. What made sense anymore? She had to act impersonal, objective tonight, otherwise she would cry.

Alise reached the restaurant five minutes early. Ali stood, with a martini, at the crowded bar. Seeing Alise, he smiled, approached her and then kissed her lips. He stepped back and gifted an admiring look.

“You look beautiful. I came early because I couldn’t wait to see you.”

A good beginning she thought. Maybe the evening will be civil.

Ali tipped twenty dollars to the headwaiter for a table in the private alcoves. As the waiter held the chair for her to sit, she asked for tomato juice with a celery stick. He ordered another vodka martini.

Positive. Positive. Positive. Be objective.

They sat opposite, silent in awkwardness. He was about to speak when Alise said, “I’m sorry for missing work today, but I couldn’t get myself together. How was your day? Anything exciting happen? What did I miss?” She appeared cheerful, alert.

“First, the office was dull, isn’t the same without you. Second, I spent all day preparing Defense Minister Kabani’s itinerary for the month for here and Washington. Like to hear it?”

She nodded and he reviewed the schedule, a good start.

“That should keep you busy,” Alise said.

“Busy is the word,” he smiled. “For us.”

“The first thing to do is make a toast when my drink gets here. And here it comes.” The drink arrived.

He looked suspicious. “What’s the occasion?” Ali asked.

“I want to toast you and your future.” She lifted the glass. “May you become the leader of the Baath Party and president of Syria.”

“Quite an ambitious future.”

“You can do it. I have confidence in you. I also have good news. Let’s drink to your future first.”

They clinked glasses and sipped. He looked at her curious unbelieving there could be good news between them from her.

He said, “That was to my future.” Looking skeptical, he added, “Now let’s drink to your good news.”

Alise opened her purse and pulled out his unsealed envelope. “I won’t need this.” His arms froze. She extended the envelope to encourage his reception. “Take it.” She placed the envelope in front of him. His silence accompanied a fallow expression.

“Come on, Ali. Ease up. When was the last time anyone gave you five hundred dollars?”

“What’s going on? What’s the game?”

“No game. I don’t need your money.”

“Why not? I thought we agreed.”

“We didn’t agree on anything. You agreed. You gave me this money and to you settled the matter. Let’s set the record straight. Let me pacify your fear. I’m having the abortion sometime this week – if in the mood, maybe tomorrow. I have time to pick a day. In my second month, abortions are legal. I’m starting my second month. The right frame of mind is important. It will be done.”

“I’m delighted at your conclusion.”

“I didn’t arrive at that conclusion. You did. I’ll do so because that’s what you want. If I were capable to support our child, I would never agree. Pregnancy is inconvenient to you and personal to me. I’m returning your conscience money because I’m going to a public clinic and can do without it.”

“Avoid being emotional for a change.”

“I love you, Ali without reservations. I know that means nothing to you, it does to me. I’ve devoted years to you.” She lost control, turned weak, deviating from initial strategy. “I’m sorry.” Silence. “I’m…not sure of anything anymore. Please talk to me.”

“It’s the wrong time to have children, as I told you repeatedly. I never made a lifetime commitment to you; you might have to me, I never did to you. What am I supposed to do, stop my life to marry you because you got pregnant? I want to marry you, but later. Why make a big issue over nothing?”

Over nothing?
“I want to have this baby.”

“Have one next year or the year after. The baby is a mistake. And since it’s a mistake, correct it.”

Their conversation turned negative and she plotted all day to have a controlled conversation.

“What can I say to make you change your mind?”

“I don’t want a baby and I don’t want to get married yet. Why is it difficult to understand? I won’t divert my energies from my career to start thinking about raising a family.”

“With me?”

“With anyone.” His head shook in frustration. “What’s the big deal? Why make this a monumental happening?”

“You don’t understand, do you?”

“The only way you think I’ll understand is if I think your way. How could you allow it to happen? You were a professional. Can’t you take care of yourself? And why must you be bitter, vindictive? I thought you were different.”

“Different? You mean pregnant proof?”

Her mind stalled. She lost, by emotion.

“Alise, it’s a mistake. Accept the mistake then forget. If you have to satisfy or justify any instincts, delay them, become a mother another time. You know you can become pregnant and will again.”

“I thought loving you would make me whole. Instead, it made me a groveling, desperate person. I hate you for that.”

“Why can’t you take each day as it comes? What was wrong with the way we were going?”

“We were heading down a dead end.”

“Maybe you were, I wasn’t”

“We both were.”

“No, you were. Because our relationship doesn’t evolve into marriage you think it’s going in the wrong direction.”

“I won’t live that way again.” She grabbed the envelope and put it in her purse. “Thanks. This will help me start anew.”

“Stop acting like a child.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. Between us, it’s over. Don’t pay my rent anymore. All I ask is that I work with you for another year to stay in New York.”

Her offensive silenced his attack.

A waiter’s presence interrupted the confrontation and they ordered their food.

“When are you going to the clinic?”

“I told you as soon as I’m ready. What about my deal? Do you agree?”

“No.”

“You mean you would send me back to Syria?”

“No. I don’t want to lose you.”

A shining light!
“You mean you got a good thing going?”

“No, again. It means I love you.”

Alise’s insides sang. “You never said that before, never that way.”

“No matter. I love you and I don’t want you to leave.”

“You may love me, but you don’t need me. If that’s your idea what love is, it stinks. My sustenance revolves around you. I need you to have a whole life. That’s love. I spent the whole day trying to figure out our future. Though I hoped we could have one together, we can’t. I don’t think I could respect you again.”

“Because you can’t have your way?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore, your way or my way. The important thing is it can’t be our way. I release you from any obligation to me. I’m going to have the baby. No one will know the father. I promise that to you.”

“What are you, nuts?”

“No. I don’t need you to support the baby or me. I want this baby. Because at the time it was conceived, I loved you.”

“And you don’t love me anymore?”

“I’ll try to live without you.”

“How can you come to the office pregnant?”

“Why not?”

“What do you say to everyone, the ambassador did it?”

“I’ll say I married secretly in the past three months.”

“They won’t buy your explanation. These subjects get out. After all, I did bring you with me from Syria.”

“My telling them I married someone else will squash those rumors.”

He leaned back and straightened withdrawing from the confrontation. “If you want the baby I’ll help with financial support.”

“You didn’t say so the other night.”

“I was striking out blindly. You trapped me in a corner and didn’t know what I was saying.”

“You did a good job and managed to hurt me.”

“Again, I’m sorry.” He groped, searching.

Ali scanned the restaurant looking for his red–jacketed waiter. Although the room filled, diners were oblivious to Alise and Ali’s presence in the alcove, including the waiters.

“You’re patronizing me, Ali.”

“I’m not. I prefer the abortion; but if you insist on going through with the pregnancy…I’ll help you, the hell with the office. They will believe what we tell them.”

“You’re willing to support our baby? For how long?”

“For as long as you need my help. Or until you get married.”

Death.

The words stabbed as a knife, a crippling and savage stabbing bursting her delusions.

“Married?”

“Eventually you’re going to get married, no? At that time you won’t need my support.”

“I see.”

“That’s fair, isn’t it?”

She nearly stammered. “Ali, does that remark mean there’s no chance of us ever getting married?”

“I told you dozens of times. I don’t want to get married now.”

“To me?”

“To anyone.”

“If you ever decide to get married and I’m still around then what?”

“If I decide to get married and it’s not you, it’s not you.”

Another stabbing. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Stop asking me to make a commitment. I can’t.”

“Don’t support the baby. I’ll manage without you. Shaba said she’d help me if I decided to have it.”

“Shaba? She hasn’t a pot to piss in either. Shaba! Who else knows about this? The world is going to know next. All I need is for Kabani to find out.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I thought he was your friend.”

“He is, but he’s never approved scandals. He’ll protect his ass from the President.”

Alise remained silent for minutes. His eyes tracked his thoughts. She heard it again this time as finality. He rejected the baby. She said she would have the baby. Words. She terrified at the thought, but decided to maintain an independent position showing assertiveness, independence, and a defiance that she could go on without him.

The food arrived. Dinner turned into a wake. Silence prevailed until dessert when his eyes stopped tracking. All along, Alise looked at him, studying. She remained quiet to avoid betraying her weakness.

Ali asked, “Would you like to do something else, go somewhere after here?”

After all that thinking, that was all he could say, disappointing.

“I’m not in the mood for gaiety tonight. I want to go home.”

“Let’s go there then.”

“No. I’ll say goodbye and you go your way tonight and I’ll go mine.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Not tonight.”

“I won’t leave you feeling like this.”