Chapter 2 #4
He grinned and left me a clean towel on the edge of the sink. Walking along the hallway, I paused by the living room. “You wouldn’t by any chance have a clean pair of panties?” I asked.
He guffawed and raised his head from the computer.
He shook his head slowly. “So, maybe dirty ones?” I smiled at him.
“Maybe,” he chuckled affectionately. “I guess I’m just going to have to wear my tights without panties,” I said, puckering my lips.
“That’s tough,” Halimi said, in the tone of someone comforting the bereaved.
I winked and went to get dressed in the bedroom.
When I came back, I sat down on the couch and took a sip of the coffee I’d left on the table earlier, now cold. “Ugh, you do that too?” Halimi grinned.
“Who else does that?” I asked.
Halimi took a sip of his own cold coffee.
The doorbell rang, and I was spooked. It was already past midnight, and there were hardly any sounds from the street.
Halimi went to the door, and it occurred to me that I was in a strange place with a person I barely knew.
I imagined him coming back into the living room with his brother, a friend, or another lover.
I felt a sharp stab of nausea. But he murmured something at the door and came back with a takeout order.
Relief must have been etched on my face, because he burst out laughing. “Who did you think it was? My mom?”
“Something like that,” I admitted.
“Pas de problème,” Simone said, raising her eyes above the frames of her elegant eyeglasses.
“Richard’s arriving on Thursday, and I’ve reserved a room for us at that swanky hotel in Mitzpe Ramon.
I wanted to invite you as well, but if you want a bit of time alone together, we’ll take the little one. ”
Halimi and I looked at each other. I was pretty sure Halimi was going to change his mind and persuade me to embark on our little adventure some other time. But he said, “No … we’ve made plans already. Liloosh will have a ton of fun.”
“Whatever you like,” she said and looked at us both. “Are you going to do drugs?” Halimi burst out laughing, and I widened my nostrils and suppressed a smile.
“Yup, probably,” Halimi said. “Why, do you want some too?”
“I thought if you’ve got hash, it might be nice out in the desert,” Simone said blithely.
“Hash,” Halimi said. “That’s so ’60s. Anyway, as you know, that’s Diti’s department.”
“Of course, of course,” I said right away. “I don’t have hash, but I’ve got excellent weed.”
“Magnifique,” Simone said, smiling.
The week passed by pleasantly. April was blessed with balmy days, soft sea breezes, and an affable sun that caressed the skin without beating down too hard.
I worked in the mornings, sitting with my old laptop by a table on the balcony, cigarettes and coffee, horizon and sea within reach.
Simone and Halimi hung out together, taking walks around the nearby villages and along the beach.
Sometimes, Simone sat with me for an hour or two on her iPad, gathering material for her next article.
She showed me a medieval manuscript she was researching—a work of art in crimson, gold, and royal blue—written by Jacques de Vitry, Bishop of Acre, at the beginning of the thirteenth century.
“What’s funny is that he was one of the people who founded the fortress at Atlit, less than a mile from here,” Simone said.
I glanced at the ruins of the fortress—always obstructing the skyline.
Chateau Pèlerin was built as a Crusader fortress by the Knights Templar in 1218.
I’d wanted to hike there ever since we moved, but it had been closed to visitors for many years, serving as a secret Israeli naval commando base.
It drove Halimi insane—he fantasized about sneaking in by way of the sea, either swimming or in a rubber dinghy, but he never managed to convince me we’d get out of there alive.
restricted area—trespassers enter at their own risk announced signs on the fence around the fortress.
Simone actually liked the idea that the fortress still served as a military base.
“It’s just wonderful,” she exclaimed on one of our walks along the beach, when we stopped to look at the ruins beyond the fence, alongside the white, square structures of the military base.
“What was good for thirteenth-century Templars is good for a modern army as well.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Aside from that, I bet everything there is beautifully preserved because there are no visitors. Whatever’s left, that is. ”
Simone and Halimi consulted an antiques specialist, a friend of Simone’s, who confirmed that the coin found on the beach was from the Crusader period. He even traced it to the age of Frederick II, the Holy Roman Emperor and disputed King of Jerusalem.
One afternoon, after Halimi and Simone came home from their walk and Simone went off for a nap in the guest room, Halimi handed me a long magenta box.
“What’s this?” I asked, surprised, and even a little suspicious. There’d been too many gifts over the years from Halimi to compensate for all the heartache he’d caused. “Open it,” he said, leaning against the balcony door.
Inside the box was a thin silver chain through which the coin from the beach had been threaded.
It had been polished and shined but was still badly corroded.
A small, square cross with widened edges was engraved on one side of the coin, delineated by a circle with a blurred inscription.
I couldn’t make out the engraving on the other side.
“Limi, it’s gorgeous,” I murmured, putting on the necklace. Halimi had gauged the length perfectly, and the pendant stuck to my skin, slightly above my cleavage. I expected the ancient metal to be cool to the touch, but the coin was warm.
“Where did you manage to find takeout open at one a.m. on a Friday night?” I asked.
Halimi opened a series of identical plastic containers.
There were smooth, yellow mashed potatoes alongside roast beef in a dark sauce, fresh coleslaw, garlic bread, and even chocolate brownies.
I knew most of the restaurants in Tel Aviv and couldn’t think of a single place that offered mashed potatoes and roast beef so late on a Friday night.
“Ah, I know some people,” Halimi said, but I could tell he enjoyed how impressed I was. I leaped on the food, which was delicious. Halimi nibbled on a hunk of garlic bread.
I devoured the meat, vegetables, and bread and had a brownie with coffee that Halimi made me.
He didn’t touch the brownies. “Are you watching your weight?” I asked.
His eyes were riveted on me as I licked my lips—his chin resting on the palm of his hand, a contented smile on his face.
“Don’t really have a sweet tooth,” Halimi said, getting up and walking over to the dresser. “Shall we go dancing?”
He produced a small bottle containing some kind of clear liquid, which made me tense. I thought he was about to suggest we shoot up or something.
“Relax, it’s G,” Halimi said, measuring the liquid into a large glass and then adding Diet Coke.
“What, you mean GHB—that date-rape drug?” I asked anxiously. “I’ve never tried it.”
“Look, it’s not a roofie, but it’s true that if you mix it with alcohol, it can have lethal effects,” Halimi said, sipping from the glass, his face slightly contorted. “That’s why you’ll stick close to me.”
“I dunno …” I began, but Halimi smiled and sat down next to me. “What’s up? Are you scared I’m going to take advantage?” His hand stroked my thigh through my pantyhose again, and I tingled.
“A little,” I said. “God knows what you’ll do to me if I’m helpless.”
“Look, you don’t have to, of course,” Halimi began, his long fingers climbing up my shins. “But it’s a fun drug, if you follow the rules. Don’t you want to fly with me?”