by Paloma Meir
“I would love that but meeting Louisa and spending two days with her is very different. I don’t want to confuse her. I’ll call you the moment I get home.”
“How do we fit in to all of this?” The question I feared to ask would not escape my thoughts.
“The unknown is unknowable,” she said as if she were a sage which she was not, nor would she ever be.
“What are we going to do about your inability to make a coherent statement?” I chose not to say that knowing the unknowable was the primary job of a theoretical physicist because I was not in fact a scientist of any kind. For less than a moment, that felt even more peculiar, more wrong than the events before me.
“That’s better. You’re going to have to leave soon so I can get ready for my trip. Can we pretend I didn’t share any of this with you just for an hour? I’ll even brush my teeth.”
“We’ll make this work. You’re going to need a liter of water when I’m done with you.” The can do spirit of Danny filled me, and I knew that she would be mine, and I would be hers.
…
A change swept over her as we walked down the stairs. The unbridled warmth and passion of our hours together as we did all the things I had ever imagined, evaporated. The dream-like state she felt as well as I did suddenly snapped shut. Her every step down the wooden stairs harder, her mind focused on what I assumed were the details for her trip up the coast.
In the living room, we were greeted by a very hurried but happy looking Astrid. She had been built up in my mind to be an inhuman walking work ethic. She smiled at me nodding her head in deference as Louisa reached her arms out to her mother who did not notice.
The sight of Louisa shocked me for a moment, a certainty that all that was before belonged to someone else. Someone who would be claiming his rightful place whether he truly wanted it or not, under the guise of “doing the right thing”. One look at Zelda walking beside me silenced my mind again. Everything I felt, she felt too. Of that I was certain, and of that I was correct, not that it mattered.
“Will you make me one of your scarves? I want a black one with silver stripes,” I asked at the front door, giddy with our mixed scents filling the space between us.
“They’re very feminine, but if that’s what you want,” she stood stiffly.
“When you’re as manly as me, you can wear what you want,” I raised my body up like a monkey in the zoo, wanting to make her laugh.
“I didn’t get to see Keith or my parents,” she said softly to herself.
“What? You should practice your English with Astrid. You’ll see them when you get back.” My good humor continued, “You’re really, really pretty Zelda.” My cheeks ached from my smiling.
“That’s more middle school than high school, Serge. I have to pack, get the three of us ready. Good-bye, my gentle one.” She shut the door. I gently pushed it back open.
“This is the one time you don’t want to kiss me?” A peck she gave me.
“I’m going to miss you so very much.” Her intense dark eyes met mine, and with that she closed the door.
…
I pulled up in front Whole Foods in Santa Monica on the way home and parked the car without a single memory of the drive across town. I had been thinking of our grandchildren to be and how I would buy them telescopes and take them to the Planetarium. I assumed my interest in Astrophysics would rightfully skip a generation.
My hands were full of vegetables as I stood in the long checkout line. I inadvertently glanced at my reflection as the beets threatened to fall from the pile. My erect posture and manly appearance surprised me because my insides were the consistency of pancake batter. My clothes were a bit wrinkled too.
The sight of Danny’s car in the driveway could not shake my mood. I imagined him understanding, even encouraging my relationship with Zelda. I saw him taking Louisa to spend the weekends with him and Sarah as Zelda and I could live out our life of love until eventually we had children of our own.
I heard the sound of violent retching coming from Danny’s room as I unloaded my groceries. For a quick moment, I saw my mother in her bed covered in her own vomit. I shook my head violently, snapping it, causing a little pain.
It worked and my thoughts traveled back to Danny. My mind flip-flopped. I couldn't see how he would let Zelda go. He would claim his family. I made a decision to deal with it, if and when, the time came. I wasn’t going to let Zelda get away. No use pondering problems that didn’t exist yet.
A loud sigh of pain emitted from Danny’s room as I sat on my bed with a spreadsheet open plotting the financial future of Zelda and myself. I was having a few problems reconciling the cost of her lifestyle against my projected earnings. I would just have to make more money I thought as I shut the computer to go and check on Danny.
I didn’t know how I would be able to keep the truth of Louisa from him. It was not my place to reveal the secrets. I reminded myself Zelda would be home the next day.
“Dude, it stinks in here. You sick?” I pulled the curtains back and opened the window to air out the room.
“You have a fever?” He lay on in his bed covered in sweat, the white of his skin underneath his tan creating an unhealthy yellow cast, “You’re burning up. I’ll be right back.” He had a bowl of vomit by his side. I picked it up, careful not to look at the contents, and went back into the kitchen to retrieve a fresh bowl and some aspirin for his fever. “Are you okay to take this? Is your stomach better?”
“I don’t know.” He looked as if he were in pain as he asked a question I thought would fill me with unease, but the sound of her name took me back to the hours before, “How’s Zelda?”
“She is great, fucking amazing.” Time was lost for a moment, “Sorry man, she’s good. Did you two work out your deal last night? I thought maybe you said something weird to her. Sorry for thinking that, bro.” I did feel bad about that, and a little nervous about the surprise, the happy surprise, that was on his way in less than a day. “You’ll always be good to her, right?”
“Are you two together now?”
“Dude I told you. It’s a unique situation. We’re hanging out. I dig her. That’s it. She doesn’t talk about you with me, and I’m not going to talk about her with you.”
“I don’t think she just hangs out. Don’t screw around with her.” He tried to get up but fell back into bed.
“Dude, she’s fine. We’re on the same wavelength. We are good.” My mind was with her as Danny laughed. I knew I had to get out of his room, keeping secrets from Danny, even for a day wasn’t something I could do.
“What’s so funny man? Go back to sleep. I’ll get you some soup later.” I patted him on the shoulder and went out to get him some soup. I wasn’t cheap about it either. He was asleep by the time I got back home. Back in my room I texted a non-responsive Zelda my plans for our future until I fell into a deep sleep like no other I had experienced before.
…
I woke early the next morning, invigorated for the day ahead. I planned a surf in my head while checking my phone for a message from Zelda. No response, but I wasn’t worried. I assumed traveling with her small family that would grow to include me had worn her out. I made a note in my head to buy a parenting book. Childcare was one of the few areas in life where my knowledge was insufficient, practically nil.
I jumped out of bed and retrieved my wetsuit that had been hanging in the shower drying for several days. I heard the doorbell ring and Danny call out asking me if I could answer it for him. His voice was raspy and sick with whatever ailed him.
“Sure bro,” I pulled my wetsuit up and hopped across the living room to answer the door.
“Sign here.” The courier wore dreadlocks as I had for years. I would have spoken to him about hair care if weren’t for the fact the letter I was signing for was addressed to me and from Zelda.
“It’s probably the papers from the escrow.” Danny said from the kitchen.
“It’s for me. Why would she send me a letter b
y courier?” I decided it was a love letter not meant for Danny’s prying eyes.
I greedily ripped it open while standing in the doorway.
Serge,
I’m drinking a large glass of water while I write this letter and thinking of you. Let me first say that I’m sorry that this won’t be that kind of letter. If only I had time.
Almost everything I’ve said to you this morning has been a lie. Danny made it very clear last night that he does not want me in his life. Louisa has been raised with love. I can’t have her around a man who has hate in his heart.
I know I will be depriving his parents of their granddaughter, but I feel they would understand my decision if they knew the circumstances.
I’m leaving today. I don’t know my ultimate destination. Nothing feels like home.
As you pointed out, letters aren’t the best form of communication. I’ll email you when I figure out where I am to live with my family of Louisa and Astrid. I’ve crushed my phone, and my old work email is unavailable due to Silviana changing the website. I’ll set up a new account when we land somewhere in this big world.
I don’t know what I would have done without you last night. You make everything better and brighter. I’ll miss our game. Please don’t be too mad at me.
Enclosed are the keys to my house. The lease is paid up until July 1st. Living here might make your commute easier. I left a few things that need to go to my storage unit, and some things for the Goodwill. Could you take care of that for me?
ZM
I moved through the space of our living room on a white hot wave of anger. My stomach felt as if it had been punched, emptied, no oxygen in my body. My muscles were tense. My head empty of everything. My only thought was to destroy Danny.
He stood at the counter drinking his juice but not for long. My hand, my body that had never been used for violence struck out knocking his cup across the room, against the wall, feeding my rage. Danny must die is a thought that sprung up in my head. I relished it.
“What did you say to her? Don’t you fucking lie to me. What did you say to her?” I moved back and forth on my feet as if some part of me was holding back the violence that overwhelmed me.
“It’s between me and her. I’m going up there right now to make it right.” He slumped onto the bar stool, the pallor of his bronzed skin grew deeper. I didn’t care. I wanted to break his Adonis like face.
“Good luck with that. She’s gone. You idiot. Your baby is gone with her.” An angry growl erupted from me as I scanned the kitchen. I saw the edge of the letter Zelda had written him too on top of the refrigerator. Was it possible to have more rage in my body? Yes it was, I learned in that moment.
“Eight months that letter has been sitting there. I thought she was stupid or weak for not telling you straight out,” I almost threw my neck out with how my head shook at the utter stupidity of him not opening the letter.
“Eight months it sits there because it hurt your big baby feelings that she went away? Did you know you had a baby? Do you know why she went away? The answer was sitting in front of you the whole time.” The thought I never wanted to have raged through my head, Zelda and I were never meant to be together.
It didn’t matter I would make Danny hurt, because my anger would not recede. I picked up the bottle of juice and threw it against the wall, destroying it, leaving a hole, splashing the sofa we had sat on so many times to watch the games. If you had given me a match, I would have burned down the house.
“What baby? What are you talking about?” The weakness in him sickened me. I wanted to mangle and tear him apart. I took a deep breath.
“Louisa is your baby. I’m not going to tell you about it. Sit down and read that letter, or I will beat you down. I don’t care if you’re sick. Read the letter she wrote eight months ago.” I banged my hand on the counter, jolting the weak willed one off his stool, “She’s gone. You did this.”
He sat down and opened the letter. I fell on the floor and buried my head in my hands. She was gone, and to have left me, to have given up on having Louisa’s father in her life could not have been easy. I knew she was in pain, and I knew she was running. I knew she wouldn’t stop.
“Why did she think I would be mad at her? She keeps apologizing.” He asked the wrong question, always the wrong questions from the one who I had considered my friend, my family for most of my life.
“How would I know that? She just told me yesterday morning.” I barked back, “She felt guilty about Paolo. Choices. I don’t know. Finish the letter.”
“I’m going to go and get them. Let me read your letter.” He got up off the bar stool and took a step toward me. Bad decision “bro”.
“You come near me I’ll rip off your head. Finish reading the letter she wrote you eight months ago. This letter is to me, not you.” He had read maybe two pages of what looked like a ten page letter. I would pound his face with my fists before I would ever let him read the letter she had written me.
He had the good sense to sit down and finish the letter as my thoughts swam through my head in a way that confounded me. I had a supreme desire to find her, but knew that wouldn’t be possible, and in the end, and this was the deepest hurt, we weren’t going to be together. I shook the truth and recited the words she had written in my head, telling myself that she would email me, and somehow we would make it work.
We could move to New York, and I would keep Danny away from her for the rest of our lives together. He would never know where we were, and Louisa would never know the evilness, the selfishness that lurked inside her controlling, sick father.
“I read it. Now I’m going to go find her.” He stood up and jolted me out of my world with Zelda. He still looked ill but determined in his sociopathic way I had always before thought of as confidence.
“What did you say to her? What did you say to make her want to raise Louisa alone?” My rambling mind spat out, not knowing if I really wanted to know the answer.
“You don’t want to know Serge.” He limply reached for his car keys.
“I would love for you to get into your car right now and go out in a ball of fire, but tell me what you said to her before you do that. You owe me that.” The hate was thick in my voice.
“I don’t owe you anything, Serge.” His words felt like a punch to my beaten body.
“You took my time away. We had more time.” I collapsed on the floor, covered in a thick sweat from the wetsuit I was wearing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The selfish fuck calmly walked to the refrigerator and drank the cold soup from the styrofoam container.
“It’s not your business. Tell me what you said to her.” I lifted my head, and screamed for what I hoped would be the last time. I wasn’t going to tell him about the game. I wasn’t going to tell him anything. The days of sharing our lives, closed, a door slammed shut forever.
A heavy sigh preceded his words, “I told her I never loved her, that nobody could ever love her. I told her she was worthless and a desperate sex addict. I purposely used words that trigger her to push over the edge. I used everything I knew about her to hurt her. I wanted to send her back to the worst part of her life. That’s it. I’m not telling you the words I used. That was the message. We good?” He sat back down on the bar stool with a lost look on his face, but fuck, I didn’t care.
“We’ll never be good again, but thanks for telling me.” I got up off the floor and went straight to my room, peeled off the wetsuit, threw on a pair of shorts and t-shirt that lay on the floor. I chose not to think about him because what he said to the most delicate Zelda, the most vulnerable sweetest Zelda, wasn’t something I could process. I packed up my few things in the garbage bags with a Zen–like calm.
“Where are you going? Let me read the letter she wrote you. I don’t know how to find her.” He unsteadily weaved my way.
“Leave her alone. You failed. Your sick plan didn’t work. She’ll be fine.” I put my bags down for a moment, incredulous he wo
uld consider either of these things an option, “Seriously stay away from her.”
“I’m going to go get her Serge. I love her, and she has our daughter who she is not going to raise alone.”
“Take all your power moves and go fixate on someone else. She’s too sweet for a sick fuck like you.” He grabbed the letter from me I hadn’t realized was clutched tightly in my hand. He was wrinkling the words she had written.
“I can’t believe you did that. I would like it back when you’re done. There isn’t any information about where she’s going. I told you that already.” I yelled as he slammed the door to his bedroom, and from what I could feel from running up and pushing up against it, was blocking with his body.
It became clear as he hid in his room violating everything that was our friendship that he must die. The calmness the thought brought frightened me for a moment, but again like so many emotions I was feeling, it passed through me quickly.