That evening, we went to dinner, but our conversation was subdued and superficial. Neither of us seemed to be interested in addressing the status of our complicated relationship or the maelstrom of questions that hung over our heads. Instead, we called it a night early, neither of us straying from our sides of the bed. We both rose at five a.m. without complaint when the alarm went off, and within a half hour, we were on the road.
“When you say we’re going north, does that mean you have a destination in mind?” I asked as we pulled away from the motel.
I had thought about asking during dinner, but we’d kept our conversation on anything but our situation. My mental and emotional sponges had been thoroughly saturated during the day. By the time dinner rolled around, I couldn’t take any more substantive discussions. Plus, it hadn’t made one bit of difference where we went. It was a small relief to offload that one decision onto his shoulders so that I could better carry the remaining burden of my current circumstances.
“I have a small cabin up in Wisconsin not too far from Lake Superior. It’s about eleven hours from here, thus the early alarm. We can make the drive in one day, but it’s going to be a long one.”
“You have a cabin? In Wisconsin?” That was probably the last thing I had expected him to say. What New Yorker kept a cabin in northern Wisconsin? Vermont or Maine, sure. But Wisconsin? Had I inadvertently teamed up with an ax murderer who was playing the long con to lure me to my death? Was I going to end up in a wood chipper like that guy in Fargo?
Maybe my story would be sensational enough to find its way onto Netflix. Emilia Reyes: Woman on the Run. We all had to have goals—I supposed that could be mine. At least my story would live on in infamy.
“It’s just a small hunting cabin I use when I need a break from the city. I only go about once a year, so keep your expectations reasonable. It’ll be dusty, and it’s tiny. Don’t go imagining some romantic cottage on a lake. You’ll be in for a disappointment.”
“I don’t have anything better to suggest, so it works for me. Do you hunt when you’re there?”
“I do but only for food. I don’t need to kill things just for sport.”
Well, that’s good to know.
“My family didn’t hunt much, but back where I’m from, it’s a huge pastime.”
“Texans and their guns. Every man, woman, and child own one,” he mused.
An icy chill skittered down my back. Had I told him where I was from? I had gotten used to telling everyone I was from California. Had I slipped and mentioned Texas at some point? I thought I remembered everything that had happened while we’d been drinking, but maybe I’d said something and didn’t remember.
“Yeah, actually. I don’t remember telling you that.”
“I could have sworn you did. Probably while we were drinking.” He played it off nonchalantly, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that something was off.
Moments like this made me wonder about myself. I knew Tamir was dangerous. I knew he had secrets and was swathed in mystery like a real-life James Bond. How unstable did a woman have to be to truly want a man like that? I’d only ever have what little of himself he was willing to give, and he probably had a different woman in every city he visited. Why was I attracted to a man who was potentially so bad for me? Considering my background, I supposed it would have been more shocking if I was drawn to a normal man. But still, I worried about myself sometimes.
“Tell me about your life in Texas,” Tamir said after I’d been quiet for a while.
“I did the bookkeeping and helped manage the restaurant my grandparents started when they were younger. I loved that place; it reminded me of my tita. When I moved to New York, I knew I wanted to work at a restaurant because that’s all I’d ever known. That’s about it. I worked and hung out with friends when I wasn’t taking care of my brother and sister. My life was pretty simple. What about you? Tell me about your life in Israel.”
“I went straight into the military after school like every Israeli.”
“Everyone?”
“Yes, Israel has a mandatory conscription of its male and female citizens with a few limited exceptions. Currently, women only serve for two years and men for three before they can be released. The government anticipates it won’t be able to continue that practice, but for now, it’s the law.”
“Wow, I had no idea. How did you feel about joining?”
“I was young and idealistic, eager to serve my country. Israel and the Palestinians had signed the Oslo Accords to move toward peace. I’d grown up in the shadows of the war between our two nations and seen the hatred that festered from one generation to the next. It might sound counterintuitive, but I wanted to serve to be a part of the solution. To help with the peace accords. I was eventually deployed into the West Bank and witnessed how violence still prevailed. It was horrible. I quickly realized the only way to stop the violence was from the top down, not by policing the everyday people on the streets. We needed leaders who would genuinely want things to change and rally the people in that direction.”
“It’s better over there than it used to be, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but there’s still much room for improvement.”
“I take it you’re Jewish?”
He glanced at me, probably feeling like he was under interrogation. “Yes, but I’m not exactly practicing. I assume if you’re Hispanic, there’s a good chance you’re Catholic.”
“Technically, but I’m not sure I’m anything anymore. I’ve been questioning everything lately.”
“We all grow and change. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I know, but my tita was devout, and that’s the one way I still feel like I’ve let her down. She raised me, gave me love and a moral compass she would attribute to her faith in God, and it would break her heart to think I’d abandoned my faith.”
“That the same Tita who gave you that evil eye necklace?” he asked with a smirk.
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s been a while since I learned about Catholicism in school, but I don’t recall that being a part of their teachings. It seems to me your tita had quirks of her own.”
I smiled as I recalled all the old wives’ tales we had lived by. Times when my tita would rub an egg on my back, then crack open its contents into a glass and put it under my bed at night to help keep me from getting sick when a sniffle would set in. Our magical aloe plants and the almighty power of the red string. Her beliefs were definitely patchwork, and Tamir’s assurance was a great reminder of that.
***
The sun was slipping beneath the horizon as we pulled onto a dirt road, winding our way through a forest of evergreen pines mixed with other types of trees that had lost their leaves for the winter. Traces of a recent snowfall remained on the ground and in the crooks of branches. It made the place look utterly magical in the twilight of the setting sun.
The dirt road wound through the trees for about two miles before a small wooden building came into view. The outside didn’t give the best first impression. Boards covered the two windows, and the forest undergrowth was attempting to swallow the cabin whole. I tried to reserve judgment, but a part of me was very concerned. The cabin didn’t even look big enough for one occupant, let alone two.