Writings

She aligned the napkins, then re-aligned them. It had been a long time since she last cooked for a man at her house. Her friends kept telling her Nelson was not the man for her. But who were they to know that? As far as she knew there were no post-graduate studies in managing your friends’ relationships yet. She knew she’d apply if the program existed. She sighed.
“Table set, dinner ready, dress fine” – she craned her neck to see herself in her living room mirror – “hairdo, too,” she enumerated under her breath.
The door-bell rang and cut short her inspection. Nelson was early, he was eager. She opened the door with anxious expectation and a smile on her lips, but it died quickly as she saw the face in front of her.
“What are you doing here?” she choked.
“Hi. I came to see you.” He was dressed in those familiar jeans and a pullover, wearing sneakers. His car was parked on the sidewalk, just beyond her garden gate, she saw. He stood in front of her like he had last been there yesterday and not nine months ago.
“You have no right to be here, Jake,” she squeezed through her teeth. She pushed the door to close it, but he put his foot into the opening.
“Please. I just want to talk.” His brow creased into lines that hadn’t been there when she last saw him.
“I’m expecting someone.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A man?”
She shrugged. “Why not? You think no one’s interested?”
He didn’t laugh as she had expected. “Why would I think that? I was interested.”
“Ha, you’re a joke,” she laughed with a mad voice, like a bird frightened out of its nest.
“Come on, let me in, Jen. Just to talk.” He extended his arms towards her in a strange, pitiful plea.
She was staring at him, hesitating, hating, perplexed. Her pressure against the door didn’t diminish, but his eyes, shy but tenacious, made her reconsider.
“All right. Five minutes. I don’t want Nelson to see you here.”
“Nelson?” he squeaked. She didn’t answer.
She left the door for him to close and returned to the dinning room. She sat onto the sofa, carefully smoothing her velvet skirt and then clasping her hands in her lap, hiding their shaking. She didn’t look at Jake or invite him to sit down. He stood at the door, looking over the room, the elegantly set table, the woman on the sofa. She was older, there was a mallow sadness in her eyes, one he could swear hadn’t been there before. Nine months was a long time.
“So?” she cut through the silence.
His eyes returned to her face. “What?”
She rolled her eyes. “You wanted to talk. Let’s hear it.”
“Don’t be like that,” he said.
She looked away, fixing the silk shawl around her neck. He pulled a chair from the table and placed it in front of her.
“Are you serious with him?”
Her head snapped to him. “What?”
“I’m just asking. You’ve prepared everything so nicely, he must mean a lot to you.”
“None of your business.” Her artificial locks danced around her oval face when she emphasized each word with a jerky move of her head. That was a newly developed habit, Jake thought.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe it is my business.”
She coldly stood to her feet. “You know what, I think this talk is finished. Please, leave,” she said, pointing towards the door.
He stepped to her, taking hold of her arm. “Jen, please. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to …”
Her stare was a challenge.
“I missed you in California. I came all the way here to see you.”
She laughed, swatting his hand away. “Let me remind you, you also went all the way there to be away from me.”
“I didn’t!” He went through his hair with his fingers, turning his back on her. His shoulders were hunched, his posture less straight than it used to be. “I went because I got a job opportunity. I had to go, you know that.”
She walked to the window and took the pack of cigarettes from the side table. She lit one, staring out the window. The garden was already bare and it was only the beginning of the fall. She had never been much of a gardener. The house and the garden with it hadn’t been bought to grown things in the backyard. It was supposed to offer a nice and safe place for their kids to play.
“I know it was a job opportunity, a promotion. I never resented you that. It was how you left that hurt me.”
“What do you mean?”
His surprise went unnoticed by her. She was picking at her nail, the smoke of the cigarette was weaving forgotten into her face till her eyes started to sting and she blinked.
“You never asked me how I felt about it or if I maybe wanted to go with you.”
She looked him straight in the eyes and he made a step back, bumping into the chair. The wooden legs scraped like a scream on the tiles. He sat down and lowered his face.
“You never thought about me that whole time, from the moment you got the offer till the moment you asked me to drive you to the airport and you hugged me half-heartedly because you were already late for your flight. You organized parties for your co-workers, for your family and friends. You went on a shopping spree, buying stuff you’d absolutely need in California. You searched the net for surfing schools, for Chrissake. You couldn’t live in L. A. and not know how to surf, you said.”
She came closer to him, but he still didn’t raise his head. When she inhaled the smoke from her cigarette, she could feel the smoldering butt reaching her fingers. She inhaled one more time before she crushed the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table. She took it into the kitchen and emptied it. Then she opened the window to get rid of the bitter smell.
“Where was I in all those plans? Huh, Jake?”
When he didn’t say anything, she stepped to the table and again rearranged the glasses and cutlery, trying to find a perfect position for everything.
“I didn’t think you wanted to go,” he finally said.
She looked incredulously at him. “Ever thought about actually asking me that?”
“You never said anything. I kept bringing it up, my move to Cali. All the time. At work, when we went for lunch, in the car, here. But you never said anything.” He spread his arms. His eyes were reproachful, somewhat confused.
“What was I supposed to say?” she yelled at him. “Please, Jake, I love you. Stay for me?” she snorted. “The way you behaved, I thought you didn’t give a damn about me! And I should degrade myself to begging you?”
Breathlessly, she put her hand to her chest and closed her eyes. “You must be insane.”
“You loved me?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes pierced him. “That’s not the point, is it?” Her voice cut like a scalpel. She sighed and checked the clock on the wall.
“It is for me. I didn’t know, all right? How could I, if you didn’t tell me? I cared about you, Jen. You have to believe me.”
“You didn’t know?” She touched her lips with the tips of her trembling fingers, giving him a long look before she continued. “You didn’t know. The fact that I was always there for you wasn’t telling enough? That I covered your back when you messed up that last deal before you left? That I did everything you asked of me, that I forgot all your insults and careless words? Why do you think I did all that? Because I loved you, you–” she raised her voice, her eyes filling with tears.
“I’d loved you for years, but you just never saw me as a woman, did you? I was just someone who was always conveniently there when you needed me. And then, just before you got your promotion, you fucked me and then left me. I lost my co-worker, my friend and the love of my life, all at once. And now you think you can just come here and ask me what … that I forgive you?”
Tears smeared her mascara that was creating clownish traces on her cheeks.
“Look at what you’ve done,” she said forlornly when she wiped at her wet face. Her high heels resonated hollowly on the floor as she walked down the hallway.
“Oh, no,” she moaned when she saw her face in the bathroom mirror. Everything was ruined. Nelson would be there any minute and she didn’t have time to fix her make up. She wet a paper towel and dabbed at her face, trying to remove the black streaks without making her skin become red. The more she tried, the more she felt like crying.
When she returned to the living room, Jake was still there.
“Haven’t you left?”
“We haven’t finished this discussion yet,” he said stubbornly.
“I have nothing more to say.”
“But I do.” He propped his hands on his hips.
“I don’t want to hear it,” she insisted and stepped back.
“Jen,” he pleaded.
“Nelson will be here any minute.”
“So? Are you afraid he’ll be jealous?”
She widened her eyes. “Of what? You?” She laughed shortly. “Oh, he knows precisely how I feel about you.”
“You two talk about me?” Jake made a step towards her like seeing her face from up close could erase his doubts.
“Talked. He proved to be a lot better friend than you.”
“Oh, that must’ve been very convenient for him. He got my position at work and what he’d always wanted – you.”
She was playing with the buttons on her blouse, checking the clock every few minutes.
“Don’t talk about convenience, Jake,” she said reproachfully.
“What? Don’t you think he used the situation to his benefit?”
“Lower your voice,” she warned.
“He just happened to be at the right place at the right time, huh? I bet he was all willing to comfort you if you really missed me as much as you say,” he mocked.
“If I missed you?”
He didn’t answer. “What gives you the right to call me a liar after what you’ve done?” Her calmness was threatening.
He closed his eyes for a short moment. “Then tell me, how can you be with him?” It didn’t sound like a question. “If you had really loved me, you wouldn’t have forgotten me so quickly.”
She was left with her mouth gaping. She stammered before she could form a meaningful sentence. “I’m trying to go on with my life, Jake.”
The corner of his lips twitched in disbelief. “If you had loved me …”
“Then what? I’d have to die of misery? Is that what you want?”
He shook his head no, but she didn’t let him speak.
“That’s the only way I could show you my love? You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? All you know how to do is demand, but you’re never ready to give anything. You couldn’t even tell me how you felt, Jake. So don’t blame me for trying to cope with your shadows. I can’t be in pain for the rest of my life just because that would make you feel better. I’m not willing to give anymore.” Her voice became a shrill cry and tears were again unleashed down her face.
“Jen …”
“No! I don’t want you here. Just go!”
He grabbed her arm, pulling her closer, but she pushed against his chest and made a step back.
“We can fix this,” he said soothingly.
The room became quiet like the sky calms down after the colorful din of fireworks subsides – first Jake’s words, then their echo, then nothing. Jennifer stood still, her mouth open in a grotesque, disbelieving smile, tears still falling from her wide eyes like she had no control over them. Jake was taken aback by her eerie silence. He feared she was experiencing a panic attack with her trembling hands, erratic breathing and ashen face. He reached for her hand. She didn’t resist.
“Fix this?” she said with a brittle voice.
“Fix this?”
He nodded perplexed.
She shook her head and turned her back to him, pressing the root of her nose with her fingers. She faced him as she said, “We can’t fix anything, Jake.”
“Why not? If we …”
“No,” she said loudly. Their breathing was echoing through the room. She sniffled.
“I was pregnant. And I lost our baby because you left me.”
She wiped her tears with her palms. When she took a deep breath her face lost the tense expression. There was only sadness left.
Jake stood still, his breathing labored. His arms fell at his sides like they were filled with lead.
“Pregnant?” he forced out.
“You should leave. Our discussion is over.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Her face remained impassive.
“If I had told you about the baby and you stayed, I’d never know whether you stayed because of the baby or because of me.” The clock ticking almost drowned her soft voice. “I thought I could do it on my own. It turns out I couldn’t. I miscarried because of the stress.”
“Oh, Jen … You should’ve told me,” he whispered. He cupped her cheek in his palm. She didn’t react for a long moment.
“Well, maybe you should’ve asked.”
She turned away from him and walked towards the door. She opened it and waited for him to leave.
“This isn’t right,” he argued and tried hugging her, but she stopped him with a firm gesture of her hand.
“It was wrong from the beginning, Jake.”
“Don’t say that.”
She shrugged and looked outside past him. Dusk was beginning to shroud the street and the silhouettes of the neighboring houses and the trees along the sidewalks were outlined in a bluish tinge.
Jake waited for her response, but she remained silent. When he descended the front steps, he turned once again to look at her. Her face was sad but determined.
“Goodbye, Jake.”
It wasn’t his fault, she now knew. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was all one big misunderstanding and a lot of useless sacrifices. It was life.
She stayed in the doorway to see him drive off. When the car drove away from the curb, a cat was startled in the bushes by the fence. It jumped onto the gate and remained there staring after the car that had awakened it.
Jennifer returned inside and closed the door.

Brigita Pavshich lives in Slovenia. She has published short stories and poems in All Things Girl and Your Messages collection. She works as a literary translator and is currently finishing her first novel. She can also be found at her website: http://www.pausesbetweenthenotes.com

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