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Never Trust A Man
It's impossible to trust in men. They never show you their real face. They sparkle and twinkle like diamonds, but p-f-f-f -- it disappears as if it was just a soap bubble, plastic instead of amber, the piece of glass in the mounting of a diamond. It's crazy to believe in soap bubbles...
Nora sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and looked outside. It was a shiny spring day, but she didn't see the apple trees covered with fresh pink flowers, or yellow dots on acacia bushes, or robins that were busy with building their nests. Her eyes were drifted over the vigorous, bright new leaves, not stopping at the stylish garden oak furniture, nor at the funny umbrellas near the swimming pool, nor at the cozy brown chairs near the barbecue place.
Why am I so tired? Maybe it's because of the terrible headaches?Last evening, she took three times more anti-migraine pills than usual, but it barely helped. She went to bed early, drowned into hard dreams, and hadn"t heard her husband return. She hadn't seen him in the morning either; he went out at the sunrise. She just found the additional comforter, carefully tucked up around her. The note was waiting for her on the table when she awoke: "Hi, Nora, I hope you are better today. Call me at work, when you get up. John." His watch, the Longines chronograph, laid nearby. It's strange; he's always worn it since I bought it for him. Maybe, it's broken?
She didn't call John. She just sat on the chair and looked somewhere behind the well-wiped glass of the large panoramic window. Her well-groomed nails drummed on the table calmly, but anxiously. She sipped the coffee, then slowly took the phone, and almost unwillingly pushed the buttons.
"Jennings and Hopkins, advocate bureau," the young woman's voice almost deafened her. She moved the phone away from her ear.
"May I reach Mr.Hopkins, Ma'am?"
"Sorry, he is not here now. You could try to call a couple of hours later, he should be back."
She switched off and put the coffeepot on the stove again. She hated these coffeemakers. The "mechanical" coffee always seemed to her as something like plastic plates, unbreakable Christmas-tree toys, and "Spam" ham. She always used the special coffeepot. She liked the process; it was nice to add cinnamon, clove, or even a black pepper.
Nora was drinking the coffee and was looking at the old family picture on the wall. Kids are small here, she thought with tenderness, even the oldest daughter was wearing braids... We, husband and I, are so young and funny there. Happy, joyful...
She didn't put the last family pictures on the walls. Something was wrong with them; something was missing. Maybe, my wrinkles are too unpleasant, or the husband looks somewhere aside? Or there is some empty place on these pictures? She couldn't determine.
Nora went to the living room, took a red plush family photo-album from the shelf, and sat deep into the wide, soft armchair. She opened the album. Here they all are together on vacation in Florida. It's a rare case, John was so busy. In that time, eight years ago, he tried to sell sewing machines and founded a small enterprise in Kansas. It seemed rational - the large place, with many ranches and farms far away from the large shops...
She remembered how she tried to talk John out of this business. She wasn't an experienced finance specialist because she hadn't worked after graduation, but somehow she knew that there would be no profit. Nora knew these rural places; she was from Texas. The people there were... no, not slowed down, but they trusted nothing new. Half of them had old, grandmothers' sewing machines, the other half preferred to buy things by mail. Besides, these handy guys didn't know why they need to pay for warranty if they can repair everything by themselves.
John, as usual, didn't agree with her. Of course, he always was right. Three years... Three years in that hopeless place with small farms around it, with those talks about weather, harvest, recipes for jam... Three killed years of her life. John always was on business trips, trying to sell something. Returned, he barely asked her how she felt, about their daughters' problems and successes. He talked exhaustedly about new perspectives, new deals, new contacts that would be signed next week... Always next week. Then next year. Always the same.
Not able to build a career, she tried to find some hobby, just to keep her mind sane. She chose photography. There were enough objects there, in the dusty small town. She didn't want to stand closer with that life, but something true was in the wrinkled faces, in the old, chipped wood of houses and fences, in the sense of freedom and power in horses' necks with fluttering manes. She made many black-and-white photos. Some of the daughter's friends saw them, and told the librarian about them. The librarian asked Nora to exhibit the photos. She didn't want to do it, but the husband advised her steadily to participate, and she agreed.
People came, looked, and thanked her, but she didn't enjoy it. John, however, was very proud and talked with everybody. He said he is proud of me. I'm a fool, he could only be proud of himself! He was happy when the mayor said some kind words to him. He liked to be close to authorities. It didn't help when you failed. Now he was in the center of the attention. The main hero, she grinned. He always wanted to be a main hero, everywhere. He needed it, but he rarely could be. The chief of emptiness. She was astonished with the anger revealed by the thought. Oh, yes. After that exhibition he presented me that necklace with the false diamond. How he could do it? I hate... I hate all those fake Rolexes, artificial leather... Nobody could determine the diamond as a forgery, but she never wore it.
He wanted to be "the boss." Everywhere, all the time. This is why he always started new businesses, moving the whole family from one place to another. No friends, no roots, no success, no even closeness inside of family, and it's impossible to look ahead more than half a year... Instead of family life, he worried about clothes and accessories, "because he is a chief and must look fine," as he always says.
She sipped the coffee and turned the pages of the family album back, to the very beginning. There were the wedding photos. With sudden pain she remembered these funny, happy, careless days after her graduation with an MBA. It was a month of euphoria. The endless picnics, the parties, the wedding preparations, the jokes, laughing, dreams about the future. And many job offers... There were good offers, two of them from very well-known companies, others with good salaries for a fresh grad. She threw them away without regret, so sweet were his wedding vows: "I promise to do everything to make you happy, you, the light of my life..." he told in the church, without doubt. Liar!.. No, not liar, she checked herself up, wanting to be honest. He just wanted to be the best, to stand above - as minimum, above me. Even in the cinema, in theatres. When he asked, do I like this movie or opera, and I disagree with him, he becomes angry and tries to say that I'm not right, that I have not enough education and broad mind to understand it... I haven't saw nothing except Steven King in his hands for years. And he wants for me to look at everything with his eyes, not with mine. He wants for me not to belong to me, but to him, but I need to stay myself...
The phone rang. She lifted her hand to pick up the receiver, but refused. After a beep and greeting, she heard the husband's voice, "Hi, Nora, it's John, could you call me, I'd like to have dinner with you in some restaurant tonight. I need to talk with you. Let's meet somewhere in downtown. Call me, please. Bye."
Nora didn't call back. Instead, she turned pages in the album until she was almost at the end. There was a picture, taken three or four years ago. This one, possibly, could look fine on the wall...They all stood in front of their new house. It was her second year in her own office, and her husband's business was successful. They bought this house -- not very large, but cozy and with a well-planned garden. She was almost happy. She had a job, a home, and a garden! If the new business failed, they'll not need to sell the house and move out again, he would have time to think about what to do; she could earn enough money for the whole family. Not much, but enough.
She looked at the other page. There was his portrait - just a face, half-turned toward her from the book. Some uncertainty, weakness, lack of hope was in his face. The look of a trapped animal that tried to hide that he doesn't see an exit. Why? Everything was well, stable... Suddenly she felt pity. He was tired then; it was his first more or less successful business. He attempted to build the large company, to make an effective structure, to find a strategy. In spite of her doubts, he ran this company efficiently, but without joy. It was visible. The regular work bores him... Nothing new, and everybody know his price... Don't need to buff, to show off, to buy expensive clothes, ties, pens, watches...She grinned, remembering how surprised he was when after inheriting some money from her grandpa she presented him the Longines watch with a heavy platinum bracelet, and how quickly he got a habit to look at it when some people were around. She smoothed her hair mechanically, as if trying to find tortoise combs. Suddenly, she recognized why she did it. I forgot that O'Henry story as if I never knew it... It was our favorite story; we felt like its characters! Everything is lost...
Nora dropped her hands helplessly. It was a dead end. Moreover, John was restless again now, planning a new company somewhere in Montana. It means that again they will depend only on him, rootless, friendless, and homeless. She remembered how much energy she spent trying to get back her financial skills and become an independent entrepreneur. She had started from volunteering, as a student. She barely slept the first half a year; she read cover to cover all the main books, all law bases, all stock analyses, and all new tax rules. How much time was wasted! Then she found the job, with small salary but with possibilities to develop her skills. Step by step she was going to her aim, making the clientele, spending much of time for filling the gaps in her knowledge. How many doubts she has before opening her office! And no support from John! No, she said to herself, it won't occur again. I need to stay here, and I will, and I'm ready to pay for all by myself... And maybe... she shivered, possibly... probably... evidently... she tried to find the correct word to determine her feelings, I do not love him anymore... She sat straight, almost frozen for a few minutes, then banged the album, took the phone, and pushed the buttons firmly.
"May I reach Mr.Hopkins, please?"
"One second, please... He's on your line."
"Mr.Hopkins? Hello, it's Nora Jordash. Could you help me to file for divorce?"
"Mrs. Jordash..."
"I just can't wait any more, I...I don't want to move anywhere again! I need to get hold of something, I can"t live as a tumble-weed, I need something constant, regular, I..."
"Mrs. Jordash..."
"Let me say... I can't live that life anymore, can't play with soap bubbles, I hate this trumpery, it hides the emptiness, I just..." she swallowed jerkily.
"Mrs. Jordash, Nora..."
"I just want to live somewhere, to have a small garden, a couple of friends to talk to, and for my daughters too, I can't..."
Her voice broke. It's hysterics, the first from the birth of my eldest. Maybe I'm being too haste? It's hard yet... She attempted to take a cup of coffee, and failed. Her hands were trembling too much, the teaspoon jingled. She tried to stop and listen to the lawyer.
"Mrs. Jordash, let me say, could you please listen to me for couple of minutes?"
"Sure," she managed to control herself. .
"Didn't your husband tell you?.."
"What? I haven't seen him since yesterday morning."
"Yesterday he himself filed for divorce. Mrs. Jordash, he said he wanted to make it as quick and as easy as possible. His statement was unusual..."
Nora waited a few seconds, silently, then asked, her throat dry, "And what does he want?"
"Almost nothing. He asked for one third of the family account and one half of the pension account. And his car."
"Really?"
"He said it is negotiable, too."
"But why? What cause for divorce did he claim?"
"Well... It was the most uncommon part of his statement. I'm citing, "because I could't make my dearly loved wife Nora happy and have no more hope that I can. I'm not the man she needs." Does it make sense for you? Mrs Jordash? Do you hear me?.."
She put the receiver on the table, bowed her head. The sweet smell of apple-tree flowers reach her nose. She slowly slipped from the chair on the floor, took the album, curled as a baby and put her head on the plush cover. It is impossible to believe in men, she thought, looking at the blurring - why? - robin with a large piece of wire in the beak. They never, you fool, never show you their real face.
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