Authors: Claudia Moscovici
“What do you mean?”
“We need to present a united front.”
“Is this about the divorce issue again?”
“Not necessarily. But we need to remain united whatever we decide to do.” “And what will we decide?” she asked him, genuinely uncertain.
Michael guided his girlfriend into the house, his hand upon her back. He felt the protrusions of her delicate shoulder blades. “It all depends on our strength,” he said, acutely aware of her frailty.
“Are you moving to Phoenix this summer?” Ana turned to him suddenly, sensing an implicit threat in his comment.
“You're not getting rid of me that easily, little girl!”
“But Karen will be doing her best to get you to move there with her,” she reminded him.
Michael shrugged. “So what? Once I've made up my mind about something, nobody can change it,” he said smugly. “Besides, she has no effect on me anymore. She's as familiar as an old shoe.”
“Just how many pairs of shoes do you need?” she asked him nervously.
“Only this one,” he said, pulling her towards him. “And I want to wear it âtill the day I die.”
“Or until you wear it out,” Ana would have liked to respond. Once they stepped into the house, she removed her shoes and placed them parallel on the threshold. Michael watched his girlfriend walk barefoot ahead of him to the living room, her gait strangely unsteady, a cross between the walk of a child and that of an old woman. She fell unto the sofa, allowing herself to melt into it as if her muscles had given way to a debilitating torpor. “I'm so worried about our future,” she said, gazing at his tranquil features. “How come you're not?”
“Because I care more about the present,” he serenely replied.
For her part, Ana found it both reassuring and disturbing that her lover never seemed to worry about anything. Although his carefree attitude offered her some comfort at times, it also made her increasingly aware of a fundamental difference between them. “Will you love me tomorrow as much as you do today?” she tried to bridge the gap through the notion of commitment.
“That sounds like a sixties song,” Michael replied with a smile.
Ana took note of his evasiveness. “I'm asking you a serious question. You want me to leave my husband. Why? What will you offer me in exchange? Will you give me love and security ten years from now? Or are we in the midst of a fleeting infatuation that will soon burn itself out?”
“What do you think I am? A fortuneteller? You're asking me to look into a crystal ball and predict the future.”
Ana was disappointed by his reply. “I just need to know that there's something more to us than this passion. Because passion's not enough.”
“I thought you lived for passion and art.”
“There's more to life than that.”
“Like what?”
Ana was surprised by his question. “Well, for one thing, there's love for one's children. And a sense of human decency and responsibility towards others. How can feelings based on pure selfishness bring anything good to anyone?”
“You think that what I feel for you is selfish? Then why the hell am I waiting for you? Why am I putting up with all your mood swings and wishy-washiness? Why aren't I pressuring you to divorce right away or moving on, since you won't agree to it? Why does my whole world revolve around you, woman?” he asked, becoming increasingly agitated.
“Because I bring you a lot of pleasure,” she answered simply.
“Have I ever behaved in any way that makes you doubt my feelings for you?” Michael's tone wavered between tenderness and reproach.
“You have, indeed,” Ana decided to unleash the doubts that had been troubling her for awhile. “You want me to hurt my husband. You want me to hurt my children. And you have been ruthless to your own fiancée. Even though you say your love for her is dead, you're still dragging her along with us. Is that how you'll treat me once you tire of our relationship? Will I be your next back-up?”
Michael wasn't prepared for such an onslaught. “Cut the crap! You know very well that I've never loved Karen like I love you.”
“Then why don't you tell her that?” Ana asked him point blank.
His gaze shifted. “Yeah, right. So that if you decide to stay with Rob, I'll be left all alone.”
Ana couldn't see the logic behind his statement. “If you decided you don't love Karen before we met, then it shouldn't matter what I decide. Why are you holding on to a woman who's definitely not right for you? Why are you leading her on?” There must be more to their relationship than he's letting on, she speculated.
“Hey, we're in the same boat here. If we're hurting the people we love, it's only because we love each other most. We belong together,” Michael reinforced his main message.
Ana's nod reflected irony rather than agreement. “That'll be our excuse when we fall in love the next time. And the time after that. You can't build anything good in life upon the destruction of others.”
“I already told you what I think about that. Happiness always comes with a price,” he harked back to their earlier discussion.
“Funny how it never seems to cost you anything. Right now, it's mostly Rob and Karen who are footing the bill for our happiness,” she commented dryly.
“That's because they aren't as lucky as us. They haven't found the right person yet,” Michael retorted, unperturbed. “You need to get your priorities straight and know what you want from life. I certainly do.”
Ana gazed at him, struck once again by the contradiction between the angelic sweetness of his features and the callousness of his attitude. “Why is it always about what you want?” she wondered out loud. “I've never once heard you explain that you did something because someone else wanted it.”
“Now that's not fair,” Michael objected. “I go to movies you or Karen want to see, or to restaurants you like, even if I think they're crappy.”
Ana shook her head. “These are trivial compromises and you know it. You always do what you want in anything that really counts.”
“Hey, what can I say? I have a mind of my own. I guess that makes me a selfish bastard, doesn't it?” he laughed out loud deeply, from the gut. “And you love me that way, admit it!” he added in response to her disapproving expression.
“I'm not sure that I like that about you.”
“Fine, then go ahead and leave me,” he said. When put on the defensive or asked to consider the consequences of his actions, Michael instantly retreated into his shell, shutting down. Ana would either be his, or she didn't count, he had decided early on in their affair. After all, he thought, I'm not going to waste my time and energy pursuing a woman who doesn't really want me. I'll be fine without her, Michael told himself whenever confronted with the possibility of losing his girlfriend. The ability to detach with great ease even from the closest human bonds filled him with a sense of autonomy, which translated into the carefree and confident attitude that magnetically drew women to him in the first place.
Ana was no exception. “I can't,” she settled back passively unto the sofa.
“Why not?” he approached her stealthily, sensing, like an animal circling its wounded prey, her imminent capitulation.
“Because I'm torn,” she replied with a sense of resignation.
They sat down at the ice cream parlor. Ana was enjoying a chocolate yogurt soft serve while Michael finished up a lemon sherbet in its fruit shell. His gaze lingered on a couple sitting a few tables away.
“It's not polite to stare,” she whispered to him.
“I was just thinking ...” Michael began.
Ana stole a glance at the couple that had caught his interest. To her surprise, the woman wasn't beautiful, the kind of woman Michael usually looked at, furtively, out of the corner of his eye, hoping she wouldn't notice. Her male companion, on the other hand, was attractive and slim.
“I was thinking about how much I identify with that poor fool,” he finished the thought.
“What fool?”
“The one sitting across from that chubby woman over there,” he whispered. “You're judging a book by its cover. That girl might be a very nice and accomplished person. And the guy next to her might be a jerk,” Ana pointed out, also in a whisper.
“That's what Karen would like to believe too,” Michael replied with a smirk. “But the truth of the matter is that when there's such a big physical discrepancy in a couple, something's definitely off. I began to notice this once we started dating.”
“What do you mean?”
“People don't look at us with surprise or disapproval, the way they do when I'm with Karen. If anything, they look at us with envy. Or with this silly grin that says, âOh, aren't they cute together!'” He paused for a moment then added, “Once I met you, I realized that I was settling in staying with Karen.”
Ana felt flattered, as usual when her lover paid her a compliment. But at the same time, she was somewhat perturbed by his thinking. After all, one could always find a better looking or younger partner than the one currently had. By this logic, would Michael feel like he had settled for her when the next attractive woman came along? “I hope you care about more than just how a person looks,” she commented.
“I care about everything,” he grabbed her hand. “I care about how she looks, how she thinks, how she acts, how she screws and how smart she is. I want the total package. I want you, Baby.”
“And I you,” she reciprocated, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Let's get the hell out of here!” Michael suddenly got up after they had finished their ice creams. “I have a little surprise for you.”
“Again? You and your surprises! I hope this time it's not about Karen.”
“I'd like to treat you to a little something,” he whispered into her ear, walking behind her with his hands covering her eyes, as they stepped out of the ice cream parlor.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, disoriented from having followed him blindly across the street into a warmer place which, she surmised, was somewhere indoors.
“I did this to test your trust in me,” he removed his hands and turned to face her. “Wait. Don't open your eyes yet!” he cautioned, still leading her along by the hand, as they made their way backwards down an isle. “Okay, now you can look.”
Ana blinked several times in disbelief. “
Macy's
? This is your big surprise?” she tried not to sound too disappointed. “I come here on my own about once a month,” she nevertheless blurted out.
“I want to dress you up like the cute little doll that you are, my Papusica. Any dress you want, if you look good in it, I'll buy it for you,” he offered, stepping away a few feet from her.
“Why are you moving away? Are you afraid I might filch your wallet?” she laughed.
“I just want to admire you from afar, like a voyeur,” Michael replied, his voice husky and earnest. “It feels so good to know this hot little number's all mine,” he declared with a possessive glitter in his eyes. “Other guys can watch you, but I'm the only one who has you.”
Ana shook her head. “You've watched that movie,
91/2 weeks
, one too many times.”
“Maybe. But the truth is that we get to spend so little time together that most of the time we're up-close and personal. All I get to see is fragments of you. Your face, your eyes, your tits ...”
“Shhh!” Ana rushed towards him and placed her index finger to his lips. “There are kids in this store.”
“You think you're embarrassed now? Wait âtill we get into the changing booth!”
“So what kind of dress should I try on?” she quickly changed the subject, knowing full well that, for once, Michael was being perfectly serious.
“I don't know,” he shrugged. “Just pick out whatever you like. In the meantime, I'll feast my eyes on you.”
“Suit yourself, but you'll die of starvation.” An expert at shopping, Ana nimbly passed her hands through the racks. Michael paced back and forth, observing his girlfriend from different angles: now tantalized by her curvy behind wrapped up in the gray pencil skirt she often wore to her art exhibits; now enchanted by the her dark flowing hair narrowing down to a point on the small of her back; now yearning to taste the nipples he could barely discern through the thin fabric of her white blouse.
“What do you think of this one?” Ana pressed up against her body a black sequin dress cut slightly above the knees.
Michael contemplated it in silence for a moment. “Nice, but a little too cabaret. Can't you find anything hotter?”
“You must be joking! This dress is as sexy as it gets without being illegal!” she pulled demonstratively at its clingy fabric and sparkly sequins.
“It's too predictable. Let's find something more striking. Like you are,” Michael approached her stealthily. He took Ana into his arms, his hands plastered on her behind, with reawakened desire.
“Have you no shame?” she pretended to chastise him.
“I sure do! It would be a damn shame to let any opportunity to make love to you go to waste,” he responded playfully and kissed her again, this time on her throat, sucking her tender skin between his teeth and tongue.
“Stop it, you little vampire!” she protested, her eyes shifting nervously. She noticed a few women observing them. “Can't you see that they're looking at us funny?”
“So what? Let them. They're just jealous. They want what we have.”
“Oh yeah? Then why don't more couples make out in public like us?”
“Because, as the song goes, they've lost that loving' feeling.”
“But then why do they stare at us with such disapproval?” Ana rebutted.
“Because they don't want to be reminded of that fact,” Michael concluded with confidence.