Chapter 34
A week later, Uzzi came to her to plead that she forgive and forget.
He promised to give her back the money and the stocks that Jonathan had given him in trusteeship. Talia stood in front of him like a goddess of vengeance. She did not even ask him to sit down.
“We’ll settle it between ourselves; why get involved with lawyers,” he urged her feebly. “They always leak everything to the press. And you know that I’m always as good as my word.”
She did not trust him, yet she acceded to his request, but only after she had him sing a detailed deposition in which he stated clearly that he would give back everything that he had taken from her unlawfully. Talia eyed him coldly, waiting for the pathetic figure to leave her house. But suddenly he sat down and burst out crying. She could never tolerate the sight of a man crying.
“I don’t know what to do,” he wailed quietly. “Hanny has been diagnosed with breast cancer. That’s why she couldn’t come to the Shiva, why she hasn’t phoned you.”
Talia felt asphyxiated. No sound came out of her throat. Her heart froze and the cold permeated her whole body, descending heavily to her feet.
“The prognosis isn’t good. The doctors don’t give her much chance, since the cancer has metastasized to the uterus and to the liver. Two days after Jonathan’s death, she started chemotherapy. You have no idea how brave she is, Talia. She had one breast removed a year ago, and now the other one has to go.”
“Uzzi! Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was hoarse, when she finally found it. “You can’t imagine what I’ve been thinking of her!”
“She didn’t want to tell you at the time. She said you had enough troubles of your own. Do you remember our trip to Venice? That was the oncology ward at Shiba Hospital, that was our Venice.” he took a crumpled white handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose loudly .
Her heart went out to Hanny. For her sake, she was willing to take financial losses. For her sake, she did not press any charges against Uzzi, even though she never forgave him. And she never will forgive him, she promised herself. There are things one should never do. There are red lines that must never be crossed. The money was not important, nor was the principle, but the damage done their friendship, that was unforgivable. Friendship was a concept of supreme importance to Jonathan, a sacred value, that he’d adhered to all his life, and now his values were sacred to her, too; they were a precious legacy, no less important than his reputation, his children and his assets.
For a long time Talia wondered if Uzzi’s sentimental outburst was a result of real pain or if he was using his distress as a means to achieve his goal. After Hanny’s death, Uzzi took off the gloves. Talia became the enemy.
It was not long afterward that she realized that the Mazor fiasco was only the first taste of a long winter of discontent, months of fighting over inheritance, losses, mistakes and a deep sense of failure.
It was Larry Koren who suggested she bring charges against Uzzi for embezzling “Mazor,” but Talia decided against it. She could not forget Hanny, who gripped her hand so tightly at the hospital as she bent over her, and looked at her with enormous, scared doe eyes that filled almost her whole yellowish face.
Larry kept his promise and did not summon her to any more investigations, but he kept constant surveillance on her. He would call her in the middle of the night, when she was tired and sleepy, trying in vain to get rid of him. “Let him call,” Ditty said, amused by Talia’s stories. “He’ll think he’s calling the shots. He’s got a thing for you, you know. This way you’ll have contacts in the police. It can’t really hurt.”
Larry demanded she report everything to him, what she had done, whom she’d talked to, who visited her. “It won’t make a difference, Talia, even if you don’t tell me, I know everything.”
“Leave me alone, Larry. Our business is finished.”
“Our business will never finish. Besides, you seem to interest everybody, so why not me?” he chortled.
“What is it you want of me?” she asked furiously.
“I’m on your side, remember?” Her anger amused him and he did not conceal it. He lowered his voice and whispered, “I just want to be involved in your life. Please let me. You won’t regret it.”
She felt she had become his private project. He made a point of reading every news item that had to do with her and, in their nightly phone conversations, he analyzed her movements and predicted that Uzzi and his associates would wage total war against her. “You’re so naive, Talia. You’re making grave mistakes. Don’t expect Uzzi to be beholden to you for not pressing charges against him. He will never forgive you for extracting the money from him. He’s like an Italian Mafioso. Remember ‘Prizzi’s Honor?’ Money is more important to him than his own children. At the first opportunity he has, he’ll outflank you and then drive the knife deeper into you.”
Talia remained silent, embarrassed. What if he was right?
“You’re stubborn, but you’ll soon see that I’m right,” he interpreted her silence. “I only want to help you. We can be friends, that’s all.”
“With friends like you, who needs enemies?” she scoffed and hung up slowly.
One morning, Noga, the caregiver at Udi’s daycare center, telephoned and requested she bring some dry clothes for her son, since he had gotten himself drenched with a water pipe in the yard. When Talia got out of her car by the daycare center, she noticed a short man standing near the high fence of the center, watching the children at play. Her heart skipped a beat. The stranger could be a pervert, a pedophile, a father fighting over custody with his ex-wife, either lovingly, invisibly watching the child, or planning to kidnap the child; such things were not unheard of in this day and age.
Talia made her way quickly to the center, eyeing the man suspiciously. She did a double take. It was Larry! She stopped in her tracks, alarmed.
Larry was the first to recover.
“Talia, I hope I didn’t startle you.”
“You sure did! What are you doing here?”
“I’m just... I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by to see Udi...”
“Udi? What’s he to you?”
“Talia, I know you won’t believe me, but I don’t care. Every time I went to your house, I made Udi cry. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t caused him any damage. I wanted to see how he was doing at his daycare center—to check if he laughs, talks, plays with the other kids.”
“You’re out of your mind! How do I know you’re not hatching some horrid plot?”
“Talia, please believe me, I’m begging you. Don’t report me to my superior. If he finds out, I’ll catch hell...”
“Oh, you poor innocent man. I’ll be so sorry for you...”
“You can say anything you want about me, but I am not a liar!”
She believed him.
At noon, when she came to take Udi home, Larry was still standing there. She realized he had been waiting for her all this time. When she exited the center with Udi, he joined them silently, offering his hand to the child, who examined it for a moment, then gave the stranger his tiny hand in a moving gesture of trust. Neither adult said a word. Talia slowed down her pace and watched them walking front of her; it was a perfect picture of confidence and compassion. Larry accommodated himself to the child’s pace, and the latter turned his face to him, smiling happy.
They approached the house. Udi, still beaming, ran ahead to open the door for them. “Daddy? Daddy?” he cooed like a little chick. Larry walked in silently. Facing him on the wall hung a life-size picture of Jonathan, the last picture Talia had taken of him, at the London zoo, on the last day they had spent together. Jonathan looked so life-like, the innocent lock on his forehead, his tall body stooping over Udi and Michal who were petting the curly horns of a big white bearded Billy goat. Talia loved that picture; it was a memento, painful and heartwarming at the same time, and every time she passed by it, she would plant a kiss on Jonathan’s lips, which were
parted in a warm, natural and everlasting smile.
Larry held Udi in his arms, peering intently at the picture.
“You really loved him, Talia.”
“I really love him,” she corrected.