Bury the Lie Read online

  Bury The Lie

  Lili Benkel-Bergman

  All rights reserved. Copyright © 2016 Lili Benkel-Bergman

  Reproduction in any manner, in whole or in part, in English or in other languages, or otherwise without written permission of the publisher is prohibited.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Translated to English by Dalit Shmueli.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 1

  “Just go for it! Sleep with him! Listen to me! Sleep. With. Him! Don’t overthink it. Don’t obsess over it, none of your rules… just ignore whatever thoughts come into your head and for god’s sake…..just act dumb and beautiful for once. What could possibly happen? And if you feel like you can’t go through with it, take a sedative and let things take their course. One small step for a man – one giant leap for Jasmine. And you know what? As far as I’m concerned, you can dump him right after. As long as you get into bed with him first. Better yet, make it today. Just do it, let yourself go…”

  Yael, my goddess of psychology, lectured me for ten (not so innocent) minutes in our last session two weeks ago, on how I should have sex with Nir on the first date, so that I would finally experience a one-night stand for the first time in my life, and how I shouldn’t think of a million and one reasons not to, and go with my gut instead.

  Yael thought that having a casual fling would break my emotional walls down, and I would finally be able to experience life to the fullest, and meet the real Jasmine under the heavy layers of foundation and powder. She also said that the minute I switch to liquid makeup, instead of the heavy stick foundation I wear, it would be another sign that I was learning to get to know myself, and that I was willing to accept myself as I really am. And the highlight would be when I could go to the post office without hiding behind tons of foundation.

  I think Yael coerced me into considering a one-night stand after I told her how cautious and methodical I’ve been about every relationship, from the age of 14. She was dumbfounded when I told her how I had only agreed to holding hands after six weeks, and had a three-month rule for the first kiss. And that was besides the fact that when I was older, I gave myself permission to “sleep” with someone only after six months! And I recorded everything in my journal:

  Yossi, date 18. Hold hands.

  Yossi, date 50. Kiss, but no tongue action!

  Yossi, date 79. Kiss, but not for longer than a minute.

  Yossi, date 98. Broke up with him. Didn’t keep his fingers to himself.

  There was absolutely no room for spontaneity in my life. That word didn’t even exist for me. I stifled my emotions, and I even thought that was a good thing, that it meant I was in control….

  Initially, she thought I should do it with a perfect stranger.

  “You’ll see,” she promised me, “Imagine the thrill when you open your eyes after you have sex and you realize that you have no idea who you’re lying next to. It’s the perfect way to get to know yourself, and for self-validation …”

  As soon as she heard that my friend Shiri wanted to introduce me to some guy called Nir, she immediately determined that he would be my candidate for the great one-night stand assignment.

  She didn’t want the details. It was enough that I had the opportunity. When she started nagging me to sleep with Nir, I thought about my mother, what she would have to say about all this. Especially since I had to hear her ridiculous “stork story” version of my birth until I was ten years old…

  The walls of Yael’s clinic were covered with her patients’ artwork. While she was going on and on about S.E.X., I kept myself occupied with the fascinating question of whether the mobile of angels was made by a crazy patient who thought he was an angel, or by some young tormented Werther, who was planning his suicide to become an angel.

  “Well, what do you say?” Yael shook me out of my wandering thoughts.

  “Uhm, yeah, sure…why not…” I heard myself say to Yael, as I finally decided that the angel mobile person was already a real angel.

  “Try to give me a real reason why not…”

  Sometimes I don’t understand all that psychobabble, all that “who am I – what am I” stuff. That’s when my mind wanders to think about how many clothes I could buy instead of one therapy session, and how rich I could have been. When I dared to share my thoughts with Yael once, she said in her quiet and authoritative voice that therapy may not make me rich, but it will vastly enrich me emotionally. And when I recall what a zombie I was when I first came to her, and how I was essentially living vicariously through others, I started to think that maybe she was right.

  “Why not…” I answered her, “because I don’t want to step out of my comfort zone, and as far as I’m concerned, my life could go on like that forever. I don’t even know this guy, Nir. He might disgust me, or have some gross skin problem somewhere. And who says I even have to deal with my emotions, slash, fears? I’m gonna die in the end anyway, whether I have a one-night stand or not.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That I listened to you.”

  I glanced at the clock, shocked that we only had fifteen minutes left to exhaust the topic. And just a few hours until I met Nir.

  “What are you feeling?” Yael asked.

  “I’m scared…”

  “Remember what I said? Let things take their course! What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “That Nir will tell the world that it took him one second to get in my pants. And that people find out I have no personality…”

  “So what! People talk and gossip no matter what. You can’t control the whole world. Or Nir’s mouth. You’re not that important. Your sex life doesn’t really interest anyone. Relax.”

  That one word, ‘relax’, started a deluge of tears that only God (and Yael, who for me was just another name for the same entity) knew where it came from.

  Within seconds, my face turned into an unrecognizable mess. Including smeared make-up. My personality was erased…

  I didn’t have a tissue, and as always, Yael pulled one out of her magic box (the one with a never-ending supply) and shoved it in my hand.

  “What are you crying about now?”

  “I dunno…” I stared at her vacantly, my breath hitching uncontrollably.

  “Maybe you’re crying over little Jasmine?” she suggested, “Whose parents didn’t give her what she wanted, and never gave her a hug?”

  I didn’t respond. My crying jag intensified and spoke volumes. My body jerked, like in the throes of a seizure. I was crazy angry at myself, at my weakness; at the fact that I cried at the drop of a miserable word. To get over it, I reminded myself that so many children in the world are dying of hunger, and they have a real reason to cry. But that only made me cry harder.

  I tried to occupy my mind with thoughts of what I should wear on my blind date with Nir, but that didn’t help. I was awash with self-pity. I felt alone in the world. I felt as if I wasn’t even there for myself. Yael’s voice finally managed to calm me down, “Everything will be okay, Jasmine, you’re strong. Remember that. The fact that you came to me proves it. You’re a beautiful woma
n, a successful journalist, none of that should be taken for granted. You have an incredible level of self-awareness for a 29-year-old. Your whole life is still ahead of you.”

  I looked at her, into her wise, brown eyes, and suddenly, I could breathe again. My state of mind shifted, and now I just wanted to get out of there and meet Nir. Like now! Throw myself at him and do it. Do everything.

  “I’m fine,” I announced. “I’m gonna go for it!”

  “Great! So tell me what you know about him,” she shifted her position for the first time since our session started, now pleased with our conversation. She uncrossed her legs in her floral-patterned armchair, and leaned forward with her legs pressed together, as if to minimize her space and make more room for me.

  “Not much. I know he’s a very well-respected physician at Beilinson Hospital, deputy director of the Department of Internal Medicine, a 39-year-old wealthy bachelor, likes the good life, and most of all, he’s really smart. Kind of a genius. He has, what you might call, a very impressive resume. Shiri convinced me that she knows what she’s doing, and to trust her. That I should just meet him.”

  “Alright.” She stood, a sign that our session was over. “Good luck. And don’t forget – no one’s perfect. This is a great opportunity to get to know yourself better, without playing unnecessary games.”

  It’s hard for me to leave the comforting shelter of Yael’s office. A large Afghan rug, two cozy armchairs upholstered with Laura Ashley fabric, an antique desk (Biedermeier), and an orange floor lamp that emits a dim warm glow. From the moment I walked in, I felt that my soul had found a home. And it goes without saying that you can’t argue with the soul. It’s much smarter than the brain.

  The wallpaper didn’t even make me nauseous, which was my usual reaction to papered walls, even if they have a natural texture. I was born to hate wallpaper, but Yael’s cream-colored walls were soothing.

  When it’s right, you just feel it.

  I tried stalling tactics.

  “Can I call you later if I really feel like I need to talk with you before my date with Nir?”

  “We’ll talk about it next session.”

  “But we only meet once a week…”

  “Sorry Jasmine. Time’s up. Bye.”

  I was so jealous of Yael’s ordered world. Each session was 45 minutes on the dot. No cancellations. You could cancel, in theory, but you still had to pay. And if you were sick, your temperature would go up just thinking about the money you were throwing away.

  I tried to sneak in a few more Yael minutes, so I went to the restroom. Not that I had to go, but I pretended. I sat on the closed toiled seat and felt sorry for myself. For needing professional help with my life.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I was at the stage of feeling stuck to the seat. I stood, flushed, and stepped out. This time I skipped the part where I mentally wiped and made some authentic toilet paper sounds, but it didn’t matter. There was no one on the other side of the door. So who knocked?

  Five minutes later, I was at Michal’s Café on Dizengof Street, corner of Jabotinsky, waiting for my latte and ginger cookies with the subtle sweetness, a natural continuation after Yael. They also fed my need for a warm embrace.

  I was just settling in my chair, looking around me, when my cell phone rang. I didn’t want to answer, but it was Esty, my BFF. I couldn’t ignore her. It would also be pointless. Esty was not one to give up easily.

  “Are you nuts?” she shrieked, not wasting a moment.

  “What!?”

  “Don’t pretend! I know all about Nir. Dr. Nir Barak. I heard everything from your flight attendant friend, Shiri, and I think you’ve lost your mind if you’re seriously considering going out with him. He’s a lunatic. Don’t let the Doctor title fool you! He even admits that he likes to live on the edge. D’you wanna hear what he did just yesterday in front of half the department? He grabbed two vials of urine and chugged them down!”

  “Eew, he drank pee?” Maybe I really should just forget the whole thing. Who knew what diseases this doctor could give me.

  “Okay, so… well, not exactly…” she confessed.” Just before the last sip, he burst out laughing and said, ‘Tea! It’s just tea, people!” Of course, everyone was freaking out, and then, he had the nerve to tell us we had no sense of humor. Seriously? Me? No sense of humor?”

  “Are you sure you’re not just jealous?” I said abruptly, kind of shocked myself. About Nir, but more because of her trash talking. “Maybe it’s just his way of staying sane, with all those diseases you have floating around there? You could go crazy just from hearing people moaning in pain, the smell of death hovering over the hospital beds, and the fear that any minute death could make a mistake and swoop down on you…”

  “Okay…fine…” Esty muttered impatiently. Sometimes she sounds like some big boss talking to an incompetent minion. She always tried to show me up. Her rich father bought land with his money, and she tries to do the same thing – with people.

  I usually let her do it. I’m happy she feels one up on something over me. I’ve always been considered the pretty one, smart and successful, and she’s the somewhat dull, ordinary friend who’s always complaining. But this time, something in her behavior pissed me off. This time she’d gone too far. Even for her.

  “Listen Esty, honestly?” my voice shook, “I’m a little surprised at your attitude. I don’t know what you have against Nir, but I happen to think he sounds great, and I trust Shiri. And I’m going out with him, so deal with it! And if you don’t stop getting in my face about it, I won’t tell you anything anymore.”

  The line went quiet. I could almost see the blood draining from her face. She’d never heard me talk to her like that. I must have cracked her silver-plated ego.

  “Okay, okay,” she backed down. “So go for it! I just worry about you. And anyway, who do you trust more - me, who you’ve known since kindergarten, or crazy Shiri? She can barely trust herself. Afraid of her own anorexic shadow. The fact that she’s a flying waitress with EL-AL doesn’t make her…oh, never mind…she’s clueless. The fact that she set you up with Nir proves it…”

  Now that really set me off!

  “Why? What’s wrong with him? Okay, so he isn’t ripped, but he was honest enough to email me what’s probably not his best picture. He’s tall, handsome, and mostly, he’s smart. And you know me, I go for men with brains.”

  “Oh come on, really? You got all that from one phone conversation? You can tell me till you’re blue in the face that he’s a doctor, an only child to one of the richest families in the country, but say what you want, there’s something very strange and off-putting about him.”

  What was with her? Maybe she really was jealous? Or maybe pissed off that she wasn’t the one to fix us up.

  “Esty, calm down. I can’t talk to you right now, I’m at Michal’s Café, you can get on my case after I meet him…”

  “No, No!” Esty sounded frantic, “Don’t hang up. I have a few more really important things to tell you. Just take a sip or two of your coffee, I’ll wait.”

  “See that’s the thing, I’ve had enough of this conversation. I’m meeting him at 9:00 pm at ‘Turquoise’ and…”

  “Wow,” she interrupted, “You go girl! Turquoise?...very classy…so he decided to go all out for you, the cheapskate…who knows what Shiri told him about you?”

  That was it. I was done. I was curious to know whether there was any truth to her comment about his being cheap, but I certainly didn’t want to keep hearing subtle hints to the fact that I wasn’t so hot.

  Actually, I felt sorry for her. I knew that while I sat at Turquoise, looking out at the sea, she’d be glued to the television munching her snacks, packing on the pounds.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll report back to you in detail. Who was there, what we ate, and of course…”

  A loud screech pierced my eardrums followed by a loud sigh. It sounded as if Esty had fallen from her favorite leopard-print chair (Philippe Sta
rck).

  “Are you alive? What happened? Is Philippe okay?”

  “You bet your ass something happened. To you! You’ve lost your head over this Nir guy. Hello?! Is there a doctor in the house? But only if he’s ‘tall and handsome…” Her sarcasm was over the top.

  “Enough already, I get that you’re not capable of being supportive right now. Sometimes I wonder if you’re really my friend.”

  Radio silence.

  “Okay…so maybe I got carried away.” I felt the need to apologize. “Actually, I’m really stressed about this date and…”

  I heard the bleep of the phone as she hung up in the middle of my confession, and surprisingly, I didn’t care. I was even relieved. I needed the quiet. To wind down. And how unlikely of me, I didn’t go on to agonize myself as I usually did, with my thoughts: What if she’s angry? And if she is, who will I binge on chocolate with in the middle of the night?

  I put my phone down with a sense of relief, and looked around me.

  A few feet away from me sat a well-known publicist – older and very married, making out with a young and beautiful model as if there were no paparazzi around. I found myself staring at them, green with envy. She definitely didn’t keep a journal of who she slept with… a one-night stand was no biggie for her.

  A glance at my watch and I jumped up. It was 6 pm! OMG! My date was at 9! A quick calculation gave me 15 minutes to get home, and two hours bathroom time, which for me, was a suicide mission. I threw a twenty on the table and sped out, without waiting for change or for developments with the groping couple. On the way home, I felt like I was on the verge of doing something that would make Yael proud.

  Chapter 2

  The minute I burst through the door of my house, my cell phone rang. I didn’t mean to answer, but I saw ‘Mom Calling’ flash on the screen, the picture with her angry Mom face staring at me, the look that left me with no choice. So I answered with a curt, “Everything’s fine Mom. In a hurry. Bye.”