I would," Laila said. She took a pot for herself. "If I had anything to talk about, which I don't."
Ruth sighed, dipping her finger into the goo and spreading it on her cheeks. "Just so you know I'm always here for you. That's all. If you need advice, or to talk. Are you sure you don't have something you need to tell me? Something--impending?"
Laila was touched by her sister's offer. "Thanks, Ruthie. But I'm fine. Really."
Ruth reached out and lightly brushed her fingers across Laila's brow. "That doesn't look fine."
So Hal was right. They did think he had beaten her. Laila thought of her last night with Ian, and the way he'd treated her. Nobody knew the truth about him, their relationship, or what had happened. Laila grabbed Ruth's hand and impulsively kissed her sister's fingers before pushing them away.
"I tripped. You act like H--David hit me or something."
Ruth didn't smile even though Laila had. "Didn't he?"
Laila rolled her eyes. "Of course not."
He'd just slammed his elbow into her eye, knocked her over, then landed on her. But that all had been an accident! Laila thought of the way he'd taken care of her afterwards, and couldn't stop a dreamy smile from painting itself on her lips.
Ruth lowered her voice, keeping their conversation to the small table they shared. "That's some bunch of bruises from just tripping."
Laila's smile faded. "I told you I'm fine."
Ruth peered into her mirror, globbing on the thick foundation as Vera lectured from the front of the room on how to apply the goop. "I'm just saying, that's all."
"Don't you believe me?" Laila asked, her voice a little loud. She saw her mother and Bubbe exchanging another of their looks, and she lowered her voice. "Ruth?"
Ruth paused in her smudging and feathering to look squarely at her. "Should I?"
"Yes!" Laila said adamantly.
Ruth stared for one intense moment before bending back to her makeup. Laila fumed. Why shouldn't her sister believe her? A guilty thought struck her. Unless she'd spent so much time lying to her family already that now even the truth had become unbelievable.
Laila's family had spent the entire day inventing reasons for them to be apart. Laila wasn't joking when she told him the grilling hadn't yet begun either. While the women whisked Laila off to makeovers, spa visits and aerobics classes, the men pounded Hal for answers.
What he hated most was the loathing in Eli's eyes when he cornered Hal.
"I love my sister," he said. "And I hope you don't think I'm going to let anything, or anybody, hurt her."
Hal had mumbled some sort of reply--one that didn't seem to impress Eli. Then he'd escaped back to the blistering room and holed up there until dinner. At least he'd been able to get the front desk to send someone to fix the radiator, so the room should be a comfortable temperature by bedtime.
They ate dinner again in the separate dining room. It was just as active and loud as the past nights had been, though this time Hal noticed everybody was ignoring him. He comforted himself with the thought that this was exactly what Laila wanted. Heck, if things kept going this way, they wouldn't even have to break up. Her family would run him out of town on a rail.
"You didn't eat very much," Laila said as they left the dining room.
While every one else was heading out for an evening dip in the pool or for other planned events, all Hal wanted to do was go back to the room. The thought of facing another firing line of stares and scowls was beginning to wear on him.
"Like you said, it's all too much."
They paused on the front porch. The temperature had dropped even further, and plumes of frosty air came out of their mouths with every breath. Hal snuck a glance at the porch swing where Laila had kissed him so passionately. Was it only last night?
"Look at those stars," Laila murmured from beside him.
From the door behind them they heard the bustle of people coming outside. Instantly, they reached for each other's hands. Laila chuckled softly when a group of resort guests unrelated to her passed them by.
"Habit," she said, as though in apology, but she didn't drop his hand.
The stars she'd mentioned were like bright diamonds set against a rippling curtain of black velvet. Even with the air so frigid, it was a sight to move even the least romantic of souls. It was a night made for snuggling