Chapter 7

"Back to your lamps," I commanded. The djinni vanished, leaving the familiar hiccup in the breeze. I looked at Assad. He was leaning against his car with a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were viewing a scene in a desert halfway around the world, or a scene from half a century ago.

He looked at me, smiling. "It is up to Lisa. She is what we need to move the bank forward in America. I am an old man, and my family wants me to retire. There is nothing that you need to do, other than to allow me to protect the bank's interests. You will do that?"

I nodded an assent.

"Good. Enjoy the afternoon. Lisa will be back this evening, and then I will know the rest of what I have to do.

"You are the master of eight djinni. I pray that you have the discretion to handle the circumstances."

I smiled. "Twelve. And two lamps unexplored."

"What you have before you is so far beyond the imagination, I cannot even dream of it. What do you like to do?"

I had no good answer for his question. "Once upon a time, I liked to golf."

"I never understood the game. And I could never afford the time." He smiled wistfully. "Golf is useful for a man in your position. The bank may need to have you go golfing." He paused. "I need to go."

He opened the door of his Mercedes, climbed in, and was gone.

I closed the hatch of the Porsche, and waited in the sunshine for Achmed. He walked up a few minutes later, smiling.

"Getting the cabinet out of the house was tricky. The cabinet was very heavy, and there were a number of steps to navigate. They may even have been moved it in before the house was completed. The dealer was very concerned that the cabinet not be scratched. Still, he is a thief. He is in his truck, and he is sure that he stole four hundred dollars from you, so he is happy. He will never know what treasures slipped though his fingers."

I smiled at Achmed's assessment. "You mind if we stop for lunch?"

"Master, if you need lunch, then we stop for lunch."

I found a coffee shop in a strip mall in Tiburon. Next door to it was one of the ubiquitous California bagel emporiums: not real bagels, but tasteless rings of fluffy dough designed to be smothered in syrupy spreads. I looked at Achmed. "I'd like a latte and a bagel, but not one of the travesties from that place."

Achmed smiled. "Master, order your latte and a double espresso with four sugars. A real bagel can be arranged."

After the barista handed me my order, I found Achmed sitting at one of the café tables in the shade.

"You like this spot?"

"Fine." I handed him his espresso.

Achmed pushed one of those white Styrofoam carryout containers across the table. When I popped the lid, there was a bagel nesting inside. A real bagel: definitely boiled before being baked, lightly toasted, slathered with cream cheese that had avoided contamination with stabilizers and fillers, and stuffed with three slices of lox and two razor thin slices of red onion.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure. Enjoy the sunshine."

I bit into my bagel, and let my mind wander. My life was changing, and I wondered if I was changing, too. I had my kids. For how long, I could not guess, but having them at all was a welcome change. Susan had found a way to ensconce herself in durance vile, creating the possibility that the Susan wars could come to an end. I had a possible girlfriend, a brass tacks, take-no-prisoners lawyer who seemed to be changing before my eyes into something more, 'feminine' was not quite the right word, but softer. Assad had been quite insistent that I would be resigning my job tomorrow, and I did not know how my life would be arranged after that. I had a djinni who could create anything material that I would need, and there was the possibility that the bank (Assad had said that the bank wanted me as a client) could figure out how to deal with the potential tax problem. And I had a djinni harem, whose operation I would have to puzzle out.

I realized that my woolgathering was no longer a PowerPoint bullet chart of infinite text items continuing on into the darkness. It was snappier, more of a Keynote presentation. I looked over at Achmed, who was half-dozing in the warm afternoon. When I looked over, he sat up.

"We go?"

"Let's"

We got to the condo about five, beating the commute rush that turns Bay area freeways into parking lots. It took me two trips to carry in the lamps. Achmed had vanished the moment I parked the Porsche: his mission was done, he could return to his lamp. The display cabinet seemed to have grown in some indiscernible fashion. My collection before today had filled most of the cabinet, but somehow eight spaces were there for today's additions.

Rachel came into the living room to watch me fuss and arrange the brass lamps in their niches. When all was arranged, I rubbed the six new brass lamps. The ventilation system did its usual hiccup, and the six female djinni again appeared.

"We are the djinni of the lamp. We are yours to command. What is your desire, my Master?"

"Welcome to my home. You may greet each other."

I was practically smothered in kisses as each of the six new djinni expressed their gratitude by kissing my face, my cheeks, my nose, my chin, my ears, hugging me, running their fingers through my hair, and holding me in kisses that explored my tonsils and pressed firm breasts against my chest. Rachel joined in the fun, making sure that she had as much of my attention as any of the newcomers. I was more than a tad dazed, with my hair rumpled and shirt half pulled out, when Rachel murmured that I was expecting visitors, and that the kids would soon be home. The throng disappeared into Sarah's room, and Rachel paused to straighten my shirt and muss my hair one last time before patting it into a semblance of order. I collapsed on the couch.

The phone rang. It was Karen.

"Some good news, and some not-so-good news"

"Give me the not-so-good first"

"Margy objected to the emergency orders. Not totally unexpected, but annoying."

I pressed. "And the good news?"

"Judge Emerson decided to calendar the arguments on the motions for tomorrow afternoon. That's what I was figuring on Wednesday. She had us both on the phone, and Margy wasn't calendared in anyone else's courtroom for Friday afternoon. It's way close, but I'd rather not lose the time."

"Do you want us there?"

Karen was confused. "Us who? You, yes; the kids, no. They should be in school."

I sighed. "Us. I've got a new girlfriend. I think."

Karen whistled. "A girlfriend? That's a big step up from the doormat whose case I took on. There may be hope for you yet. Congratulations."

"It ain't signed, sealed, or delivered, but we're working on it. And Sarah loves her."

"That's good. You're not sure, but Sarah has decided that Daddy needs a girlfriend."

"No, it gets better. She's decided that Lisa should be her mommy."

"Herb, here's some free advice. Remember, it's coming from your lawyer, whose advice costs you two-seventy five per. If a woman who truly loves you wants something, a, listen; b, acquiesce. And remember, Sarah loves you."

"If I can swing it, we'll both be there."

"That will look good. If the Judge sees that the home situation looks normal, she's usually more inclined to decide in favor. Guys who don't or won't bring their girlfriends in with them often get the short end."

"Tell me about the short end..."

Karen laughed. "Why should I? You're the expert. That was so where you were when I took your case. This is a chance for us to gain a few feet in the other direction."

"Sounds like a winner."

"It ain't won till I win. See you at one."

"Bye."

Warren was the first one in the door.

"Rough day at work, Dad?"

"I didn't go in today."

"Um, Dad, until you get the court thingy straightened out, you gotta keep up appearances. One good week here does not prepare me for another six years of hell."