Layers(73)

“Aren’t you eating the tagine?” I ask Iris midway through dinner, after we’ve discussed her life in Baja and the fact that she doesn’t like visiting San Francisco and does it only to see Daniel.

“I’m a vegetarian,” she answers.

Figures you would be, and I believe it’s for all the right reasons. She has an aura of a saint.

It was only when Daniel left for college, she tells me later, that she finally fulfilled her long time desire to move to Baja. I ask her why she chose this specific town as her home and one of her first replies is a question of whether I have seen the place. I immediately understand what she means. She also speaks at length about how calm and secluded this place is. I’m surprised to learn that it was Daniel who originally introduced her to this paradise, taking her with him on one of his surfing trips. She also tells me about the artistic community; apparently there are more than a few artists that chose to live in this same charming town.

“You seem very happy here,” I say. She regards me with a warm smile, her eyes gleaming with content.

“I am, very much. I feel like I belong here, especially since I can do what I enjoy the most. I could not ask for more.” She shifts her pensive stare to the open window and back at me. “I am very happy,” she confirms.

Though her smile doesn’t change I sense that her feeling is deeper than happy. The lady in front of me seems blissful and whole. She then puts her delicate hand over mine and says in her melodic voice, “You just need to think hard about what and how much is really enough. Once you find that out, it’s what makes you live in sheer bliss. Till then, there are constant doubts.”

I think about her words of wisdom and couldn’t agree more. I look over to check Daniel’s reaction, expecting either an eye roll or some sort of ridicule in his expression; I am surprised to see that he seems thoughtful. Once he notices my staring his lips pull up at the side and he slowly nods in agreement. I reciprocate with a gentle smile at the profound acknowledgement that forms between us, one that goes beyond words.

I listen eagerly as Iris shares with me stories of Daniel’s childhood, of him being a reckless, restless and charismatic child. Nothing has really changed, I think, amused.

“I just hated the period when he became so introverted. You know, when Mike left.”

Mike, that’s his father’s name, and not “the coward who left us.” I notice Daniel stiffen at my side. His jaw clenches, though his annoyance seems mild. I rest my hand on his thigh and caress it gently, trying to calm him down.

“Don’t start with that,” he warns in a low, stony voice.

“It is a part of who you are. It’s one of the elements that made you what you have become, Daniel. You can’t ignore that.” Iris’ tranquil demeanor is in complete contradiction to Daniel’s growing irritation. Choosing to disregard the warning emanating from her son’s glare, she continues, saying that Mike was just scared, and that’s what led him to act the way he did.

“When your family needs you the most you man up, not run away,” Daniel argues. “You should take care of those you love. You fight for them for god’s sake.”

“My love, you need to forgive and let go of your anger. He didn’t mean to harm us, that wasn’t his intention.” Her voice is almost begging when she seeks his gaze.

“Oh, he didn’t,” Daniel retaliates in utter disdain.

“He wasn’t mature enough, and was scared. He couldn’t take care of us. He was confused. A young, scared man who didn’t know how to deal with an illness.”

How can she be so forgiving?

“Stop with this holistic spiritual shit when it comes to him. For f**k’s sake, stop.” For the first time since we stepped into the house, Daniel is offensive toward his mother, then he shuts down completely. He doesn’t even respond to my squeeze of his hand under the table.

Alert level is up to red. When I try to catch his eyes I notice that he is absorbed with pecking at his food, his stare impenetrable.

Trying to divert the conversation, I ask Iris about her miraculous recovery from cancer. She explains about the experimental treatments she went through, which eventually led to fully curing the specific type of cancer she suffered from. I learn that Daniel was frequently moved between the homes of friends and family when she was away for treatment or wasn’t able to take care of him by herself, which was for a couple of years when he was still in elementary school. The thought of him growing up that way cuts me deep inside.

As the minutes pass Daniel gains composure and joins the conversation again, holding my hand, occasionally planting a kiss on my neck, cheek or mouth.

The cheerful tune coming from Daniel’s phone draws our attention.

“On a Saturday night?” Iris comments, wrinkling her nose.

I relate to what lies behind her words. Does he ever really disconnect? Do they ever let him disconnect?

Seeing the name on the screen, Daniel’s expression turns bothered.

“Chris,” he answers, somewhat wearily. Not waiting for a reply he adds, “How severe is it this time?”

His jaw works under the tight skin of his face as he listens for a while. “So help me,” he breathes in a frustrated sigh, “if we don’t pull this one through and make the deadline I am replacing your entire department. And where is Rob for f**k’s sake?” His forehead creases.