Chapter Twelve
Laurel felt as if she were operating in two worlds, mirror worlds that looked just alike but were completely different at the essential parts. In one, she was the mother of Ben Garibaldi and the lover of Bassam, sheikh of Shajae. As she worked on the refugee piece, she finally felt as if she were using her talents to do exactly what she had always wanted to do, and amazingly enough, she was able to have her son and the man she loved with her as she did.
Love?
Yes, that was what she had realized it was. Over the next few weeks, it became increasingly clear to her that the emotions she felt for Bassam were not just curiosity or sexual desire or even a strange infatuation with a man who had known her since she was a young girl.
Instead, it was love, as pure and powerful as as she thought it would be. However, that wasn't the real world.
The real world was an increasingly dark place, full of people who smiled at her and then wanted to use her. From time to time, the smiling man appeared at the cafe where they first met with new instructions for her. It was never terribly different or difficult from what she had done for him before, but every time, she could feel dark water lapping so high it could easily go over her head. She could feel his power over her growing, and she knew her instincts telling her to run away were definitely telling her the truth.
Every night, she tried to make herself tell Bassam. Perhaps he would be furious, and perhaps he would make both her and Ben leave. She had seen it all play out in her head, including one scenario where magically, amazingly, he forgave her and allowed at least Ben to continue living his life.
She could no longer deny that Bassam and Ben had grown close. She had finally given up telling Ben to stop bothering him, and the two of them were developing their own shorthand, just like she and Ben were. She had always thought that if another adult stepped in as a parent she would be defensive, but with Bassam, it felt totally natural, perfectly wonderful. She hadn't realized how tiring it was raising a child by herself until suddenly there was someone else there to talk with, to arrange things and to make sure that Ben was taken care of.
She thought she was hiding things fairly well until a month after meeting up with the smiling man.
She and Ben were sitting at the table in the hour before Bassam was due home, and Ben looked at her. It startled her how steady his gaze was, how in some odd moments, he wore an expression that was similar to her father's, similar to her own. He had shot up an inch or so since they had been in Shajae as well, something that gave her a pang of pride as well as a strange sense of nostalgia.
"Mom?"
"What is it, kiddo?"
"You know we don't have to stay here if you don't want to." He got the words out in a rush, as if he was afraid that if he hesitated too long they would become stuck.
She blinked at him, for a moment so startled that she didn't know what to think or say. "Honey, why would you say that?"
Ben spoke slowly and clearly, as if he had rehearsed the words he was using now. She knew her son was thoughtful and observant, but this was new.
"I'm having a really good time here. This is fun, and there's a lot of interesting things in Shajae. If you're unhappy though, I don't want to be here. I don't want to make you unhappy just because I can have fun programs and this nice apartment and stuff."
He looked at her, and she could see the line of anxiety between his eyes. For a moment, she almost wanted to cry, but she stifled it and instead gathered him close to her.
"God, you are growing up so fast," she said, almost to herself, and then she pulled him back to look at him. "All right, a few things. First, it is not your job to worry about me, all right? It is my job to worry about you—"
"But you've been so worried looking lately. You never laugh or smile. Bassam's noticed it too! You're so quiet. Are you sick or unhappy or something?"
"I'm fine," she said, lying through her teeth. "I've had a lot on my mind, all right? A lot, what with the new story and all. You know how I get when I'm on a job."
Ben looked unconvinced, but he nodded.
"So yeah, I'm pretty busy. I am glad you have fun things going on to keep you distracted and entertained when I'm working. That's all I ever want, for you to be taken care of."
"Who takes care of you?" Ben demanded, and she paused.
"I take care of myself," she said finally. "That's what adults do. They take care of themselves."
"Bassam would take care of you too," he said, and she shook her head, working against the lump in her throat.
"I'm sure he would. But right now, what I need you to know is that I am fine. Everything is fine, I promise, all right?"
Ben nodded, and if he didn't look convinced, he didn't look on the verge of saying more about it at least. Sighing, she hugged him.
“Sometimes, I think I shouldn't have dragged you out of town with me on all of these jobs,” she said, almost to herself. “We would stay in one place, I would get a job managing a restaurant or something...”
Laurel laughed at the face her son made.
“Ugh, Mom! And then we would have been like everyone else, and that's boring.”
“Oh really?” Laurel teased. “I seemed to remember you having a thing about wanting to be normal just like everyone else...”
Ben pushed away from her, rolling his eyes.
“That was, like, when I was eight. That was forever ago.”
“Right, an eternity.”
Still, even as her son went to his room to continue his game for a little longer, Laurel felt a twinge of melancholy. Ben was ten, but it felt like just yesterday when he had been six, or eight or nine. She had heard from other parents that children grew up fast, and she’d thought she understood what it meant. Now she understood better, and it made her heart squeeze.
In the middle of her ruminations, the door opened and Bassam appeared. He had shed his jacket and tie, undoing the first few buttons of his deep purple shirt, which contrasted beautifully with his gray vest. He was so handsome that it made her heart ache from time to time.
“Finally made it home,” he said with a smile. “Starving a bit, so shall we send out for something good?”
“Sounds good to me,” she said, and the smile was real until she remembered the smiling man. “What do you want to order?”
The three of them decided on an authentic Chinese place that had opened up, ordering a bit of everything to try. The food was delicious, rich and light, and Ben seemed to take especially well to it. He sat enraptured by Bassam's stories about his own travels to China, and after he had retreated to his room to work on the homework that the study group he attended supplied, Bassam turned thoughtfully to Laurel.
“You know, there is an exhibit at one of the art museums downtown of traditional and modern Chinese art. I wasn't really thinking about going, but if Ben is curious about China, it might not be a bad thing. Would you like to go? We can make an outing of it tomorrow night.”
It was on the tip of Laurel's tongue to say that sounded like a great idea. She supposed that it made her quite boring, but the truth of the matter was that overall, nothing sounded quite as good as going to visit a museum with her two favorite people in the world. Some part of her relished it as time they could spend purposefully together, time to bond and simply be themselves.
She nearly agreed, and then she was snapped back to reality as she so often was lately. This would definitely fall under the aegis set by the smiling man. He had cautioned her that love was out of the question, and this, if anyone spotted them, would surely be like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
“No, I don't...I don't think that's a good idea,” she said.
Bassam looked at her quizzically, but there was worry in his gaze as well.
“Laurel, is everything all right?” he asked gently. “It feels as if you have been a little unsettled for the last little while. If there is something wrong, I would like to know about it.”
She forced herself to smile, something that felt ridiculously false on her face. “No, there's nothing wrong. I've just been working hard on the article lately, I guess.”
That was actually a lie. She had been getting interviews and speaking with people at the refugee center, but overall, very little writing had gotten done. When Ben and Bassam were out of the apartment, she stared at the blank page for hours and then closed the program that let her write. For the first time in her life, her heart wasn't in her work, and she didn't know how to take it or how to fix it.
Bassam nodded, but she could tell there was a certain amount of unease in his gaze. She ignored it, because right now she didn't have a choice. She supposed it was selfish. She supposed it was cowardly, but she felt like an animal frozen in amber. She could not go back to undo what she had done. She could not find a way out of the situation. All she could do was move forward on a road that was only growing more treacherous, more dangerous. There was no way off, and she knew that eventually, it would lead straight off of a cliff.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “When the article is over, perhaps there will be more time to do what we like.”
That was a lie, and she knew it. It stung to lie to Bassam, who she knew now was as much a part of her heart as Ben was. However, it was all she could do. It was the most important thing.
He nodded, and that was the end of it. In bed that night, however, he made love to her with a ferocity that took her breath away. She had returned to his bed after a single night away. He did not force her to return. He didn't have to. Instead, all Bassam had to do was wait, and Laurel knew she could not stay away. The man was a part of her, and the fire that flowed like a river between them drew her back every night.
Their love making was wild and unfettered, and the more she had to keep her mouth shut and the more the secrets piled on top of each other, the more she needed and the more wild she became. Once she had looked at the raw scratches she had left on his shoulder, wide-eyed at her own passion. When she timidly pointed them out to Bassam, he had only laughed.
“You are welcome to leave those marks on me whenever you like,” he said with a wink. “I like wearing your passion.”
That night, after she had told him that they couldn't go to the exhibition, she was even more fierce in bed, inciting him to be fierce with her as well. They clawed at each other like wild animals, and when they kissed, there was more than a little tooth in it. When they came together, simultaneously in a way that Laurel hadn't thought possible, there was something primal about it, as if they had touched some kind of ancient thing inside each other that would never be sated.
Afterward, when they were loosely holding each other, Bassam kissed her forehead.
“If there was something troubling you, would you tell me?” he asked, and she stirred against his side. For a moment, she could pretend she was still recovering from their exertions, and she could think about her answer to him.
“I would.” The lie sat like a stone in her throat, preventing her from saying anything else. She hoped it was enough, even as a part of her hoped that it would not be, that he would press and ask until the answer was pulled out of her.
“I hope so. I want to know what is going on in that brilliant mind of yours,” he said. “I want to know exactly what is happening with you.”
He paused, and Laurel could feel that sensation of a gathering storm again. She could feel something coming, something she couldn't stop.
“Laurel, I have been thinking of this for what feels like a long time. I am not sure what blessing or gift brought you into my life, but it is something for which I will be forever grateful. Having you and Ben here, it has brought me a completion that I never thought possible before.”
There was more. She could see it in his eyes, she could almost see the words form inside his head, and she knew she had to stop him. If she didn't, those words would come out, and then she would have no choice. She would have to run, or she would have to tell him everything, and all she could think to do right now was to stop him.
His eyes widened with surprise when she put her hand over his mouth. Some part of her brain thought of how soft his lips were, how good they were to kiss and bite, but she pushed that thought away.
“No.” Her voice was clear with only a slight tremble to conceal how the emotion was running hot through her. “No, what you are going to say next, I do not want to hear it. I...I can't. Not now. What we have, it is so important to me. Please...please, let's not spoil it?”
She did not take her hand away until his eyes closed and he nodded slowly. When she removed her hand, he gathered her in his arms again.
“All right,” he said, and there was so much there. There was regret and confusion and affection and longing, and if she had thought her heart was broken before, she was obviously wrong. It felt as if there was something physically cracking inside her, and she had no idea how to put it right again.
***
Two days later, Bassam smiled as the presenter from the museum got her things set up. She was a slender woman with pure silver hair and friendly wrinkles etched deep into the corners of her eyes. She had come with two guards and four large boxes, and now the guards waited outside with his own guards.
“Thank you for doing this,” he said, and she smiled at him.
“It is always a pleasure to help spread the knowledge of my ancestors' art,” she said.
Ben and Laurel came through the door together, and it struck Bassam that their reactions to seeing a stranger in their space were very different. Ben looked curious and intrigued, but though she hid it quickly, he wondered if Laurel looked nervous and almost afraid. Then she smiled, and he thought he must have imagined it all.
“Ben, Laurel, this is Mei Yuan Hong from the art museum. Since Ben was so curious about China and its artifacts, I thought it would be a good idea to have Ms. Hong bring some around for us to see.”
Ben drifted closer, obviously curious about what the woman had to show him, but though she also came closer, there was something dark in Laurel's eyes.
“Is this all right?” Bassam murmured to her as Mei Yuan showed Ben a carefully carved jade sword guard. “You said you were feeling a little too tired to go to the exhibition, but I thought it would be nice to bring the exhibition home to us.”
For some reason, she stiffened when he put his hand on the small of her back, but before he could even register her reaction and pull away, she relaxed. When Laurel looked up at him, the slight smile on her face was real, as was the tone of thanks in her voice.
“No, this is fantastic. I am glad Ben won't have to miss out just because I am so busy. Thank you so much.”
“You should come join in as well,” he said. “Afterward, there's some food the chef left for us on the stove. It promises to be good.”
He couldn't help gazing on in confusion as she stumbled back. It was as if the simple things he was talking about alarmed her, as if she couldn't understand them or was frightened.
“I'm really close to finishing up a section, and if I manage to do that, it'll make tomorrow a lot more focused,” she said weakly. He noticed that she was not looking up at his face as she spoke.
“I'll...I'll come back for dinner, I think, but I should work until then.”
“Of course,” he said, watching her as she fled.
He turned back to Ben, only to find the young boy's eyes clouded as well before he returned to the presentation. He wondered if Ben knew more than he did, and then he wondered if it was unfair to ask a boy about his mother's moods.
What the hell was going on?