Chapter 23

The alarm on his phone buzzed at four-thirty. As usual, he groaned, and I climbed out of bed. An electric kettle sat on the desk. I filled it, plugged it into the outlet, and pulled two small packets of instant coffee from the basket beside it. “Avi,” I said, emptying the contents into paper cups. “Coffee time. Get up.”

He groaned, rolled over, and threw his forearm across his face. “I’m coming.”

“We have to beat the sun.” When I woke, I promised myself that I wouldn’t mention the confession of the day before. I truly loved this man and didn’t want to taint this trip in any way. The memory of our time in Thailand and Israel needed to remain one of pure bliss.

As he promised, we munched on granola bars and downed the horrible instant sludge.

Within twenty minutes of waking, we walked in the dark to the car for the short drive to Masada. “You don’t want to talk about yesterday, do you?”

“Nope,” I said.

“Do you think you will ever want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” I turned and gazed at the side of his face. “I love you so much, but I know what my responsibilities are, and after I fly out of here on Saturday night, I have to begin living up to them. But between now and then, I want to see as much of Israel as possible and make love to you enough to last a lifetime.”

He nodded.

“So, tell me about Masada.”

He launched into a description of the Essenes, the Jewish sect who lived on top of Masada, which is the Hebrew word for fortress, during the time of the Second Temple. I leaned back into my seat back and wallowed in the smooth sound of his voice.

Only a few cars peppered the large parking lot at the base of Masada. He pulled our backpack, containing our water and snacks from the trunk and tossed it over his shoulder. “Let’s hike,” he said, clasping my hand before turning on his megawatt flashlight. “Forward.” He flashed the light on a small sign that read “Snake Path.”

Only a hint of sunlight rose above the horizon, and the path lived up to its name, snaking back and forth over the bleached earth and rock. A few people trekked behind us, but we were going to be the first people of the day to reach the top. Little by little the sun peeked above the Jordanian side of the Dead Sea. At the summit, an explosion of color from the sunrise greeted us. We leaned against the safety railings, hands tightly clasped together, enjoying the grandeur. “How can you not believe that all of this was created by someone or something?” He stretched his free arm across the horizon.

“The last time I answered that question you tossed me into a lake. I leaned over the railing. “I’ll say I believe in anything if it keeps you from flinging me off this mountain.”

He started laughing. “Come on. Let me give you the tour.”

As we meandered around the ruins, he gave me a history lesson followed by an archeology lesson.

“How do you know what that old pile of rocks is?”

“Easy, my mother.” He tossed his arm over my shoulder. “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve walked this site. Some parents take their kids to Disneyland. Mine dragged us to every ancient ruin in Israel.”

“That’s sad.”

***

The climb down the mountain was much easier than the ascent. We walked off the mountain sweating from the heat of the risen sun that beat down from a cloudless sky. “I hate to complain, but it’s hot out.”

“And it’s only nine a.m. You don’t want to be here mid-afternoon. You could fry an egg on the hood of a car. But, we can cool off in the water at Ein Gedi.”

***

Ein Gedi wasn’t very far down the road. Even at this early hour, people poured out of two tour buses parked near the far edge of the parking lot. At Ein Gedi, Avi led me up another winding trail, but instead of dust and rocks, lush reeds and tamarisk trees flanked this path.

Masada smelled dusty. The perfume of plant life floated in the Ein Gedi air. As we ventured deeper into the oasis, I detected the scent of water.

We trudged forward, stopping for a few moments to watch an ibex graze in a ravine and to enjoy the antics of a green bee-eater, flitting around on the low branches of a dead tree. Energy pulsed all around us. Birds sang and swooped from tree to tree while insects buzzed. A waterfall greeted us at the end of the path. I gazed up to watch the stream spill over the side of the mountain landing in a small catch basin beneath. A few people waded into the basin, which spread out between the rocks, like a pond. I pulled off my shoes and stepped into the water. “Oh!” I jumped back. “Cold, very cold.”

Avi waded in up to his knees and continued toward the waterfall. “Come on in.”

“It’s freezing.”

“Come in. Not many people get the chance to stand under a desert oasis waterfall.”

I bit my bottom lip. I hated cold water--really hated it, but I forced my feet to move forward, gasping when the water hit my shins. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

He held out his hand, and I continued walking toward him, sucking in my breath with each step. For a few moments, we stood together under the falls. Then I bolted toward the shore. “Sorry, that’s as much oasis waterfall as I can take.”

“Wimp,” he shouted, spinning around under the falls, laughing.

***

By one o’clock, we had eaten lunch, packed our bags and checked out of the hotel. Less than three hours later, he checked us into another five-star hotel.

“What shall we do in Eilat?” I asked while wrapping him in a hug.

“Nap.”

“No, let’s go outside and check out the neighborhood.”

“Nap. We’ve been up since four-thirty and hiked for miles. We can donate an hour of our time to a nice pre-dinner snooze.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep, and you can go hang out at the pool for an hour.”

He dove onto the bed, and I dug around in my backpack for my bathing suit and coverup. By the time I changed out of my clothes, he puffed rhythmic breaths of sleep. I pecked his forehead before tiptoeing out the door.

I wandered through the cavernous lobby, searching for the door to the pool, but became fascinated by all the people bustling around and sat down on a sofa in the back corner.

A woman draped in a flowing caftan strutted across the marble floor, appearing to be holding court for the three other women clustered around her. Leaning against the check-in counter, a young mother bounced a fussy baby on her hip, while a toddler clung to her hand. Beside her, her husband appeared animated as he discussed something with the desk clerk.

Here I sat. A young woman lounging on an elegant sofa inside a marble and glass lobby of a five-star hotel, as the man I loved napped on a king-sized bed in our very elegant hotel room. Me, the caftan lady, and the young mother all had one thing in common--we were all alive.

My mind rushed back to the previous evening’s conversation. It didn’t matter what Avi thought. Jack’s death was my fault, and all the repentance in the universe couldn’t make up for it. Jack would never sit in another hotel lobby. He’d never see Jerusalem again, and he’d never again kiss the woman he loved.

When we were children, Jack and I walked home from elementary school together. On Fridays, my mom would greet us at the door holding two lollipops. Occasionally, we’d get home and find her empty handed. She’d explain that there was only one lollipop left in the bag. We knew that meant that neither of us would get one until she bought a new bag. She kept everything equal.

Jack and I weren’t equal anymore.

I asked the front desk clerk for directions to the swimming pool, left the lobby, and the disturbing thoughts behind.

***

Our two and a half days in Eilat played like a dream honeymoon minus a marriage.

The northernmost tropical coral reef in the world sits off the coast of Eilat, in the Red Sea. He taught me to Snuba, which seemed like scuba diving for beginners. Because the water temperature was seventy-eight degrees, and the air temperature was ninety-five degrees, the sea water felt frigid. Pulling on a wetsuit is worse than pulling control-top pantyhose over Spanx.

I trailed behind him as we probed the reef until I gained some confidence and swam ahead of him. That ended when he clasped my arm, pulling me away from a puffer fish that I had been pointing to. Afterwards, he explained that it was beautiful but poisonous.

But, the best part of the dive occurred when I spotted a clown fish swimming near an anemone. I yanked at the back of his trunks to get his attention. “Nemo!” I mouthed through my mask. His wide smile flashed through the wet plastic covering his face.

After the Snuba adventure, we stopped at a place called “Dolphin Reef.” The uniqueness of the attraction was the dolphins were not held captive. They could swim in and out of the park area back into open water at any time.

We snorkeled and played with bottle nose dolphins. One kept poking at me with his nose. “First the elephant kiss and now a dolphin flirts with you. Most boyfriends just worry about other guys hitting on their girlfriend,” Avi whined. “I have to be jealous of all mammals.”

“And bugs too. Bugs love me. A very attractive wasp asked me to the prom in high school. I would have gone with him, but this adorable groundhog asked first.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. We treaded water, laughing, as the dolphin circled around us.

After an hour or so in the water, we climbed out, dressed, and said goodbye to the dolphins. “What’s next?” I asked.

“Food, what else?” he said, opening the car doors.

“I get the white car thing now,” I said, tossing my damp towel over the hot leather seat.

“Let’s go back to the hotel, head to the pool, and order some pre-dinner food, say falafel and French fries.”

I smiled and rubbed his stomach. “That’s not a snack. It’s a complete mystery to me how you have a flat stomach with your eating habits.”

After a few hours of hanging out at the pool, we showered, napped, and hiked off to find dinner. “What are you hungry for?” he asked.

“Pasta, it’s been weeks since I’ve swallowed a noodle.”

“Pasta it is. And, I know a terrific place.”

The small restaurant was blocks away from the tourist area. Of course, when we walked in, the owner greeted Avi like a long-lost friend. He seated us in the back corner, lit the small candle in the middle of the table, and poured Chianti into our glasses.

Within minutes, a waitress appeared to take our order of salad, garlic bread, and ravioli. Avi asked for a carafe of the Chianti.

“I need to ask you a question,” I said.

“Go for it.” He leaned back in his chair.

“I get that your family is kind of the Israeli version of the Kennedy family in the United States.”

“We are not,” he said, voice saturated with indignation.

“Forgive me,” I said, twisting my face into a contrite expression. “We’ll just say that you have excellent lineage in this country. While I get that lends itself, to a degree, of public interest, and I get that you’re very sexy, but you’re not an actor or a singer or any other type of public personality who would normally draw so much attention. Your sister is beautiful and a member of the Knesset, but she doesn’t seem to have the same level of notoriety as you do.”

He exhaled and looked down. “I told you that I’m an heir to a small fortune. It’s from my great-grandfather, not the Golda side. He bought up a lot of land when he first came to Israel. He held it for a very long time. The value increased exponentially. Hence, when he passed away, my grandfather became wealthy, and that wealth passed down to my dad.”

“Okay, so the non-political side of your family were real estate tycoons. Still doesn’t explain why after being in this country with you for less than twenty-four hours, I ended up in a newspaper.”

“How do I explain this?” He scratched his head as the waitress set the salads and garlic bread in front of us. “It’s embarrassing, but I guess it’s the result of combining factors. Mainly, allowing my ego to take over my brain and some bad choices.”

“You, bad choices? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true. I flaked out for about a year.”

“Go on,” I said before biting into the bread.

“While doing my doctorate in the United States, I did some side research and developed a new type of probe, which is now used in operating rooms all over the world. When I came back here, I took the job at Hebrew University. At the same time, I started a small business selling the probe on the side. The business grew faster than I ever dreamed. I couldn’t handle it. I’m a researcher and a professor, not a businessman. So, I sold the business to a big company in America.”

“Medical equipment inventors don’t usually become media stars, so nothing you’ve said so far explains why teenage girls giggle when they see you.” I watched his usually smiling face contort with embarrassment.

“I sold the company for a lot of money.” He looked down at his salad. “A ridiculous amount of money, which combined with the whole Golda Meir’s great-great-grandson thing, became big news in this country. The fame kind of went to my head. I started spending weekends in Tel Aviv, hanging out with a hard-partying Israeli glitterati. Pictures of me partying with them began showing up in tabloids. Then I started dating Bar, which was front-page news--gorgeous supermodel dating the rich tech guy. Everywhere we went, some paparazzi snapped a picture and sold it to a media outlet. It sucked.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you about her.”

“It didn’t work for either of us, but we’re still friendly. Occasionally, we’ll meet for lunch or coffee. Anyway, it was during that time-period that the sexiest man bullshit started.”

“Since you're sitting across the table from me, I’ll assume you’re no longer hanging out with the Israeli glamour crowd.”

He laughed. “Hell no! I work ten to twelve hours a day. I play soccer on Fridays and occasionally go out for a drink with that gang. A couple of times a month, I take my nephew to some cool place like the zoo or a farm. Ofir loves cows. My best friend is a rabbi in Thailand. And, the only person I go out with on a regular basis is Brutus, and that’s only because he’s incapable of walking himself.”

I smiled and reached for his hand. “Thanks for telling me.”

He shrugged.

“Now, it’s time for less talk and more chewing.” I picked up my fork and dug into the ravioli.

“Thank you, I’m starving.” He chomped down on a piece of bread.

We lingered over dinner, skipped dessert, and finished the wine. After the restaurant, we wandered along the promenade, checking out the wares being hawked at artisan booths and watching kids squeal on the amusement park rides. Eventually, we stopped at a café for dessert and coffee. He introduced me to an Israeli favorite, watermelon with salty Bulgarian cheese.