Delicacy (18 page)

The next day, when Natalie arrived at the office, she was a little sick. She’d ended up sleeping at her parents’. Early in the morning, just before her mother woke up, she’d come back to her own home. Memory of the all-nighters of her youth, those nights when she could party until dawn, change her clothes, and go directly to class. She was experiencing one of the paradoxes of the body: a state of exhaustion that makes you feel awake. She went to see Markus and was surprised to find that he was in exactly the same state of mind as the day before. A sort of calm strength that was exactly the same. The thought of it reassured her, even made her feel relieved.

“I’d like to thank you … for the present.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I buy you a drink this evening?”

Markus nodded, thinking, I’m in love with her, and she’s always the one who takes the initiative for our get-togethers. Above all, he decided he shouldn’t be afraid anymore, that he’d been silly to withdraw like that, to protect himself. You should never be stingy about a potential torment. Once again, he kept thinking, even answering her, although she’d already left several
minutes ago. He still believed that all of it could lead to suffering, disappointment, the most terrifying emotional impasse that exists. But he wanted to go there. He wanted to leave for an unknown destination. Nothing was tragic. He knew there were ferries between the isle of suffering and that of forgetfulness, and one that was even farther away, hope.

Natalie had suggested they meet at the café. It was better to be discreet after sneaking away the previous day. And she also hadn’t forgotten Chloé’s questions. This was okay with him, even if, deep down, he could have organized a press conference trumpeting every date with Natalie. He got there first and decided to sit where he could be easily seen. A strategic place designed to prevent anyone from missing the production of the arrival of the beautiful woman with whom he had a date. It was an important act, which certainly shouldn’t have been considered superficial. In any case, it had nothing to do with male vanity. Something else that was much more important should have been seen in it: a first achievement of self-acceptance.

That morning, for the first time in a long time, he’d forgotten to take a book with him when he left home. Natalie had told him that she’d come as quickly as possible to the café, but he hadn’t ruled out that he’d have to wait for a while. Markus got up to get one of the free papers, and he dove into a reading of it. Soon he was fascinated by a story. He was deeply absorbed in the article when Natalie appeared.

“It’s okay? I’m not disturbing you?”

“No, of course not.”

“You looked like you were really concentrating.”

“Yes, I was reading an article … on mozzarella trafficking.”

This sent Natalie into gales of laughter, the kind you can have when you’re tired. She couldn’t stop. Markus understood how it could be funny and began to laugh as well. Inanity got a hold of them. All he’d done was answer without a second thought. And now she was laughing nonstop. It was an absolutely insane sight for Markus. Like looking at a fish with legs (to each his similes). For years, in hundreds of meetings, he’d seen a woman who was serious; sweet, yes, but always serious. He’d seen her smile, of course, and he’d even made her laugh before—but not like this. It was the first time that she laughed with such intensity. For her, it was all there: a moment that offered crystal-clear proof of what she liked experiencing with Markus. A man sitting in a café who gives you a big smile when you arrive and seriously announces he’s reading an article on mozzarella trafficking.

Seventy-three

Article from the Newspaper
Métro,
Entitled
“Mozzarella Racket Busted”

Five people were placed in police custody yesterday and the day before during a raid in Bondoufle (Essonne) targeting traffickers of “high-quality” mozzarella. According to Pierre Chuchkoff, the Évry squadron chief in charge of the investigation, “between 60 and 70 truck-bed pallets, totaling 33 tons, were stockpiled in two years” and resold in areas as far away as Villejuif (Val-de-Marne). This trafficking is not insignificant, considering the loss is estimated at 280,000 euros. The investigation, which began in June 2008 in response to a complaint from the Stef Group, was able to follow a trace that led to, among others, the managers of two pizzerias, one of which, located in Palaiseau, served as the hub. Police still have not discovered who was in charge of the operation or where the ill-gotten mozzarella gains have gone.

V.M.

Seventy-four

During the course of a love affair, alcohol accompanies two opposing moments: finding the other and the need to talk about it; and the time when there’s no longer anything more to say to each other. They were in stage one. The stage where you don’t notice time passing, where you recreate the story, especially the kissing scene. Natalie had thought the kiss had been motivated by a chance impulse. But maybe not? Maybe chance doesn’t exist. And all of it had only been the unconscious evolution of an intuition. The impression that she’d feel right with this man. This made her happy, then serious, then happy again. Swinging unremittingly from elation to sadness. And now the journey was leading her outside. To the cold. Natalie didn’t feel very well. She’d caught cold with her goings and comings the night before. Where were she and Markus going? A kind of long walk was coming, because neither dared go to the other’s place yet, and they certainly didn’t want to separate. They let the feeling of indecision go on and on. And it’s even more powerful at night.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“I don’t know … I’m starting to get a cold.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m ready to be sick with you. Can I kiss you?”

Natalie had been so happy that he asked her the question. It was a form of sensitivity. Each moment with him went beyond the ordinary. After what she’d been through, how could she have imagined ever again entering a magical realm? There was something unique about the man.

She said yes with a movement of her head.

Seventy-five

Dialogue from Woody Allen’s
Celebrity
That Inspired Markus’s Reply

CHARLIZE THERON:
You’re not afraid of catching germs? And you know, I’m coming down with a cold and everything …

KENNETH BRANAGH:
From you I’d be willing to catch terminal cancer.

Seventy-six

Evenings can be extraordinary, nights unforgettable, and yet they always lead to mornings like all the others. Natalie was taking the elevator to her office. She hated ending up with someone in this cramped space, having to smile and exchange polite remarks, so she had waited for an empty car. She liked those several seconds as she rose toward her day, in that cage that transforms us into ants in a tunnel. She got out and found herself face to face with her boss. This is no idiom: they literally collided with each other.

“How surprising … I was telling myself that we don’t see much of each other these days … and boom, there you are! If I’d known I had such power, I would have sent out another wish …”

“Clever of you.”

“But seriously, I have to talk to you. Can you stop by and see me in a bit?”

Lately, Natalie had almost forgotten that Charles existed. He was like an old telephone number, an element that no longer jibes with the times. He was like a pneumatic mail tube, and they
hadn’t existed in Paris since 1983. She found it strange to have to go back to his office. How long ago had she stopped going there? She wasn’t sure, exactly. The past was beginning to warp, to get diluted in hesitations, to hide under blotches of forgetfulness. And that was the happy proof that the present was resuming its role. She let most of the morning go by, then made up her mind.

Seventy-seven

Examples of Telephone Numbers from
Another Century

Odéon 32-40

*

Passy 22-12

*

Clichy 12-14

Seventy-eight

Natalie walked into Charles’s office. She immediately noticed that the shutters were less open than usual; it felt like an attempt to plunge the morning into darkness.

“It’s true that it’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” she said as she walked in …

“Yes, a long time …”

“You must have read some dictionary definitions in the meantime …”

“Oh, that … no. I stopped. I’m sick of definitions. Frankly, can you tell me what use there is in knowing the meaning of words?”