Love Conquers All

Chapter 42

  The cab driver pulled up to the entrance of the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills. Udi and Michal were tired and sleepy, but Talia, who had hardly slept a wink in the last few days, felt all bubbling inside, as if someone had given her a shot in the arm of energy. She eyed the entrance to the hotel - a large plaza surrounded by trees and lawns and a marble colonnade in the style of an ancient Greek temple. Several dark limousines, their drapes drawn, were parked by the entrance. Everywhere, a dreamlike silence prevailed.

  A skinny, dark-skinned bellhop came out of the lobby to help them carry their baggage. She congratulated herself on brought just one suitcase per person. Holding the keys by the hand, and avidly taking in every detail of her surroundings, Talia followed the bellboy solemnly, and as was her custom in moments of excitement, her mind found refuge in mundane, seemingly trivial thoughts. She planned her first trips to the new town - shopping at the elegant stores on Rodeo Drive, dining at famous restaurants, having coffee and cake in fashionable coffeehouses where she may chance to rub shoulders with idolized movie stars...

  Taking the trip here was the craziest thing in her life she had ever done. She barely said goodbye to any of her friends back home, but she did not really care. The only thing that saddened her was taking leave of Na’ama. Talia was surprised at the twelve year olds stubbornness. Na’ama usually displayed a remarkably mature attitude; even though she raised her to be independent, she was sometimes taken aback by the way the girl chose to express her independence. At times, Talia was beset by guilt feelings since, to Udi and Michal, her younger children, she was a different kind of mother - protective and indulgent. Talia understood her two different modes of motherhood, and on the whole, did not reproach herself too harshly. After all, Udi and Michal were much more dependent on her - she had to be both mother and father to them, whereas Na’ama had a loving, supportive father who, together with his second wife, provided her with a warm, loving, secure home, but now despite all the justifications and rational explanations, she felt painfully unneeded, and she knew that Na’ama had put her in her place and did so knowingly, intentionally.

  So, Na’ama remained back home with her father, and Talia, consumed by guilt, remorse and longing, promised herself to call her daughter often, and to send her an airplane ticket to come for a visit over Hanukah break.

  Her colleagues and subordinates, too, learned of her departure only at the last moment. She entrusted the management of her business concerns to the new CEO’s she had recently appointed, most of them young, enthusiastic and eager to succeed, hoping they would incur no heavy losses. This year she was going to need a lot of money, she reflected. In the meantime, the manager of the Four Seasons hotel had offered her the presidential suite at a very good price, and she intended to stay there until she found suitable lodgings, in a respectable neighborhood, which she reckoned would cost her roughly the same amount as an apartment in New York City.

  The suite was, indeed, breathtaking, but it had a saddening effect on her. It was in hotel suites like this that she and Jonathan spent their honeymoon and many vacations afterwards. She always relished the luxury and the indulgence offered by first class hotels - the tasteful, heavy furniture, the exquisite drapes and wallpaper, the opulent bathrooms with their many amenities: a bathrobe wrapped in rustling muslin, with her monogram embroidered on its pocket, the fragrant soap, shampoo and conditioner, the thick white towels, the baskets of fruit in the sitting room, and the fine chocolate pralines cradled in a silver dish on the puffed up pillows; a good night blessing.

  The first thing she did upon entering was to take a quick look at the superb view of the town that the eighteenth floor window offered; then she lay down on the huge bed. The soft bedding enticed her to sink in.

  “Mommy, come and see our room,” the children called from the adjacent room. She sighed and rose from the bed. When she opened the connecting door between the two rooms, she emitted a cry of surprise. The room was spectacular; whoever designed it had not only taste but an obvious love for children. That person must have made a special effort to fit the room to her own children’s age; the quilts on the beds, the drapes and wallpaper were all adorned with Disney characters. A shaggy rug the color of egg yolk covered the entire floor and was strewn with toys and games. A television flickered in the comer, playing the movie “Bambi”. On the desk was a large notice, bearing the smiling face of the hotel manager with the message “Welcome Talia, Udi and Michal. Please feel at home.”

  An auspicious beginning, Talia smiled, feeling replenished with energy. She unpacked the suitcases, arranging the children’s clothes neatly in the closets whose shelves were lined with colorful contact paper. Then she went back to her room, thinking about the nanny and daycare center that she would have to find for the children. With her typical efficiency and businesslike manner, she started calling on people she knew in town, deriving great satisfaction from her organizational skills, a talent that she inherited from her mother, the owner of Heidi Rosen’s chain of stores. Yet, for the first time since coming up with the idea of the trip, she felt compunction. It was not for herself that she was sorry, but for her children, who would be deprived of the love and adoration of their two doting grandmothers.

  But within a few days, her spirits were greatly improved. The Jewish school, run by the Steven Wise Temple, had just two vacancies. Jonathan’s cousin Gloria told her how lucky she was. Parents intent on sending their kids to that prestigious school usually enroll them before they were even born. True, the tuition fee was a little steeper than she had expected, but Talia refused to be bothered with pecuniary matters at this stage, telling herself that no price was too high if it enabled her to reach her goals, and that enrolling her children at that school would also open the door for her to the Jewish high society of Los Angeles.

  Gloria herself proved a valuable connection in that respect; she helped open many doors for Talia. Talia liked Gloria very much, for her honesty, for her genuine humanity, and for the unbounded love and generosity that extended far beyond her immediate family and her circle of friends.

  A month after their arrival in Los Angeles, Talia and her children moved to a graceful house in Beverly Hills, surrounded by a large garden and high fence. Pilar, a wise and compassionate Hispanic woman, and her daughter Mercedes were in charge of cleaning, cooking, and taking care of the children, so that Talia was free to pursue her interests. She enrolled in a business administration course at the university and, at the same time, assumed the position of chair of the Association of the Friends of the Cinema Department of Tel Aviv University.

  But it was then, after the first stages of getting organized and acclimatized, that she was hit by depression, resulting from loneliness, and homesickness. In the nights, when the house ceased humming with the children’s voices and the hustle and bustle of Pilar and Mercedes, she was beset by a nagging sense of restlessness and emptiness. She could see the enchanting lights of Los Angeles from the windows of her elegant villa. Gradually, the city would grow dim, and Talia unable to sleep, would gaze at the slowly extinguishing lights. Will my house be the only one still illuminated, she wondered, alarmed, and felt lonelier than she had ever felt before in her life.

  She felt totally anonymous in Los Angeles, although anonymity was what she most craved when she in Israel. There she was quoted saying things she had never said, and the newspapers published photos of her, sometimes in intimate, embarrassing situations, that she never gave permission to take. She escaped from vulgar, unwelcome popularity, after years in which her privacy had been rudely violated, but to her surprise, anonymity and distance exacted their price, too. She had to choose between being unknown, a nobody, and being in the public domain.

  Seated at the wheel of a rented car, she roamed the streets of the huge sprawling city, feeling alien in a strange land. Even catching a glimpse of a movie star in a cafe or in the street did not mitigate her loneliness. She gazed longingly at the beautiful people in the exclusive suburbs, dress
ed in comfortable elegance. They did not walk in the street, they were forever driving their luxury cars, sitting in fashionable cafes, or shopping in prestigious stores; they always seemed to exclude confidence and looked glamorous and enviable. When she tried to strike up a conversation with those people, they sounded cold and distant. They spoke a dialect that she was not familiar with, and even though she had lived in the United States for several years with her first husband, and was fluent and proficient in English, she did not have the facility and ease to feel at home in a language that was not her own.

  But Talia was by nature optimistic and energetic, and gradually, almost imperceptibly, she regained her self-confidence. The school principle invited her to give a talk to the parents, and it was not long before the newcomer from Israel became a popular lecturer. Her activity at the Association of the Friends of the Cinema Department helped introduce her to the leaders of the local community - the moneyed people, the people of the “Industry”, as show business is called in Hollywood; the international city of filmmaking.

  That was how she came to know Jonathan Riskin. At first it was only a brief encounter; his son was a classmate of Udi. At the first opportunity, Talia invited him to the yearly fundraiser of her organization.

  “You invited Jonathan Riskin?” her friend and cousin Gloria was almost speechless.

  “Yes, why are you so surprised?” Talia wondered. She was a little surprised at the talent she herself displayed in organizing conferences and benefits, but the idea of having Jonathan Riskin did not seem particularly daring or exceptional to her.

  The evening was the most important in a series of events she had organized. The invited guests were the wealthiest and most celebrated residents in the town. For that special occasion, Talia had ordered a long black evening gown, designed by Ann Klein, that exposed her perfect white shoulders and accentuated her shapely hips. Her long wavy auburn hair was adorned by a diamond studded tiara purchased for the occasion at the local Tiffany’s.

  Talia had made a little study of Jonathan Riskin, and even before they were introduced at the parents’ conference, she knew that he had begun his career as an accountant in his home town, Tucson, Arizona. Like Jonathan, he too had a magic touch; at an early age he had already brought about mergers, bought and sold companies, and his booming businesses stretched all over the United States and Canada. His capital was estimated at a billion dollars. But when they finally met, Talia was surprised to see how different he was from the rapacious, octopus-like image that people had painted of him. At the end of the evening, when she came to thank him for his generous contribution to the Association, his demeanor was humble, even a little diffident.

  “I don’t deserve so much thanks and praise, Talia. Rather, I have to thank you for the opportunity you provided for me. I’m a Jew and a Zionist, and I’m proud that in Israel .we have not only religious seminaries but also a thriving culture. The cinema as you probably know is one of my greatest passions.” His smile was warm and his brown eyes looked at her amiably. She sensed that he liked her, not just because the evening was a huge success, and she looked radiant and glamorous - the compliment she had received boosted her self-confidence and raised her spirits - but because she felt an instant connection with him, something that her intuition told her was reciprocal.

  He continued to look at her, a friendly, benevolent look. She felt a catch in her throat as she smiled back at him. Now it was her turn to feel awkward. She had no intention to be romantically involved with him. Gloria had told her that he was happily married - to Ingrid, a tall, slender American of Swedish origin, who for his sake had undergone a Conservative conversion, and bore him three sons. Talia had never tried to take another woman’s place. Her code of behavior was very clear about this; to her a married man was like unclean meat to an observant Jew. She and Ditty had many arguments about this issue, since Ditty used to date many married men before she got married; she practically relished having affairs with them. Talia, on her part, declared that she would never touch a man with a ten yard pole who returned every night to his wife’s bed. Many married men pursued her shamelessly, confident that they could conquer her heart as well as her body. Some of them were old acquaintances, good friends of Jonathan and herself, whose wives she knew very well. They disgusted her, and she told them what she thought about them in no uncertain terms. In some cases, she made new enemies, but she ignored them and felt fully justified. After all, she was her mother’s daughter, who having lost a husband at a young age, taught her not to get involved in unfortunate affairs, as so many of her own friends had done.

  Thus, Jonathan Riskin was out of bounds from her point of view. Why, then, was she attracted to him? Talia was aware of a strong desire to get to know him better and to befriend him. It was not clear to her why she had been watching and following him the whole evening, why she tried to hear his voice, until she realized that he reminded her painfully of Jonathan. Like Jonathan, he was lanky and skinny; he worked in the same domain, having achieved a meteoric success, just like Jonathan. Had Jonathan reached his age - fifty something - he would have attained similar success. Talia had no doubt that Jonathan’s businesses would have gone beyond Israel’s borders, to encompass the entire world.

  She watched him surreptitiously, from the comer of her eye. A graying curl tumbled endearingly on his forehead. Talia swallowed hard, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Are you alright?” Jonathan asked gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “Yes, of course I am alright,” she tried to smile, “it’s just that you remind of somebody. Forgive me.”

  “Sure. I hope they are pleasant memories...”

  “Pleasant yet painful. Do you know the feeling?”

  “When you reach my age, you get to know all the possible feelings, including the mixed ones. Let’s sit down and you’ll tell me about it.”

  “I don’t know where to begin.

  “How about at the beginning?”

  “Okay.” She breathed deeply, and the words gushed out of her mouth in a torrent. “I feel so strange; you look like my husband, and you have the same name, too, Jonathan. In Israel we called him Jonathan. You’re in the money market, just like him. My Jonathan, too, had tremendous success, relative to Israel, of course...”

  “Why do you talk about him in the past tense? Did something happen to him?” His voice was deep and quiet, more mature than Jonathan’s voice, but inspiring confidence like his.

  “Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it now.”

  “I see, Talia. I’m very sorry about your loss. Now I appreciate even more what you’re doing here, and I’m glad we got to know each other. You can count me among your close friends in the city. You can count on me.”