The Queen’s Code

by Alison A Armstrong

  “This looks lovely. Thank you. The apples are a perfect touch.”

  She peeled apart the sides of the grilled cheese and slipped an apple disc inside. She heard Burt chuckle. “Do not tease,” she anticipated. “It makes it taste like apple pie.”

  He smiled and leaned sideways to squeeze her affectionately. “If you say so,” he said, rolling his eyes in mock disbelief.

  “When you are done teasing me, I would like to thank you for today.”

  “I'm done,” Burt responded with a grin.

  Claudia smiled and squeezed him back. “You were brilliant, articulate, and precise. Exactly what those two needed. Somehow when you say it, it is easier to believe. You provide the voice of authority. I may become unwilling to teach without you.”

  She watched as Burt's chest puffed up. It made her happy to give him that feeling.

  “Ah, thanks, Sweetheart,” Burt said gruffly, a sure sign of emotion. After a moment he added, “But don't underestimate yourself. I've been watching and you definitely get through to them.”

  “Thanks. I am aware of that,” she replied. “There are things they would have a hard time hearing from a man. And they need someone who can translate from a man's world into a woman's reality. It helps them to understand why they do not already know this information.”

  Swallowing a bite of his sandwich, he asked, “Did you accomplish everything you wanted today?”

  “Pretty close,” she answered. “I would have liked to talk some more about what providing means to a man. For his wife. For his family. For his friends. For his country. But they were full to the brim. They could not hear another word.”

  “What would you have said?” Burt asked.

  Claudia smiled. “Honestly, I am more interested in what you would have said. I would have asked you.”

  It made her happy when Burt chuckled at that. He scratched his cheek and she could see him warming to the topic.

  “Well, being a man,” he said, “I would have gotten right to the point: Providing for your wife grants you the privilege of being a husband and her appreciation makes it one of the best things in the world. It's right at the heart of being a man.”

  Claudia smiled to herself, hearing her words repeated. Not “her words” she reminded herself. They had been learned directly from men and passed down for hundreds of years.

  Burt continued, “Providing for your children means you have fulfilled your obligations as a father; but you had better not expect appreciation from them for decades. It's often more important that their mother appreciates your fathering. Providing for your friends makes you a good man and can earn their loyalty. Providing for your country, well, there are no words for what that means. ‘Honor’ is the closest you can get to that one.”

  Burt quietly took another bite of his sandwich.

  “Is there anything else you would want them to know?” Claudia encouraged when he swallowed.

  “Only what I said to you months ago when we were talking about being in my building stage. Failing to provide for my family is the biggest fear I've ever had. Worse, much worse, than any fear of dying or getting injured in the War. In fact, that only mattered because it would have made it difficult, or impossible, to provide for you and little Max.”

  Claudia leaned over and wrapped her arms around Burt. “And I will say what I said months ago. You have always done an amazing job of providing for all of us. You still do.” She kissed his cheek and sighed in contentment.

  Burt kissed her back. “Well, Sweetheart, a big part of that was: You let me. Near as I can tell, most women these days won't let a man provide for them. They want to be the provider. It's a standoff of dueling providers and a man can't give way without being emasculated. But fighting to provide; it's usually not worth the energy. Men can't win either way.”

  MIKE looked up expectantly when he heard the garage door close. These last few weeks had been interesting. Karen was becoming more playful and friendly as the twice-weekly sessions with Claudia continued. And this last week had given him reason to hope for an actual sex life instead of merely an insemination program.

  Wonder what they talked about today?

  As she came around the corner, Mike could tell instantly that she was tense. Her smile was a bit forced and she barely looked at him. He leaned back on the couch and consciously relaxed his shoulders. He knew she read his body language like a hawk. If he could contribute to her feeling more comfortable, he would.

  “How was your session?” he asked casually.

  He watched her purposefully take a deep breath. He patted the couch next to him, hoping she'd sit down and talk. While post-Claudia conversations were never easy, they always had a big impact.

  Karen hesitated and then sat down, keeping some distance between them. Her face bore signs of an internal struggle. Mike kept his own face relaxed and noncommittal.

  “Do you want to talk about it? Or, we don't have to. We could hang out and watch a race or something,” he offered.

  He saw her shoulders finally set in resolve and eventually she said, “I do want to talk about it. But I need some compassion on your part.”

  “Sure, sure. I can do compassion. I got lots of compassion,” Mike assured her. “Uh. What exactly would ‘compassion’ look like?”

  He was relieved when she chuckled and briefly touched his leg. Good sign.

  “If you could listen and not say, ‘I told you so,’ or ‘I coulda told you that,’” Karen replied.

  “Okay. Listen. And no ‘I told you so.’ Even if it's true,” Mike joked and hoped it would fly. It didn't.

  “Seriously, Mike. I couldn't handle it.”

  “Okay, okay. I'm with ya,” he responded, hastily reassuring her. “Anything you want to tell me, I'm all ears.”

  He waited while she took a deep breath and then another. Clearly she was riled up about something.

  “I want to talk to you about something that I've been upset about for a long time,” Karen said.

  Here it comes, Mike thought.

  “That's the bad news,” she continued. “The good news is that Claudia and Burt have provided some insight that could help us with this one.”

  “That's great!” Mike replied enthusiastically. “I mean, that's what Claudia does, right? And Burt was there too? That guy's cool. I'd love to hear what he has to say.”

  Karen smiled slightly. “Yeah, it's been interesting. A couple of times he's contributed to the discussion. It's helpful hearing it straight from a man.”

  Mike felt a little dissed. “I'd contribute if you gave me a chance.”

  Karen blanched. “I'm sorry, Honey. I'm sure you would. It's that sometimes I need to hear from a man I'm not involved with. A man I'm not trying to get anything from.” She looked like she wanted to take the last sentence back.

  He cocked his head, intrigued. “What're you trying to get from me? Besides a baby?”

  “Not so quick,” she said, shaking her head. “I've got to do this the way I've planned it out, or I won't be able to do it at all.”

  “Okay, okay. I can be patient,” he replied, impatiently.

  She gave him a look and he smiled, abashed. “Honest, I'll be patient. Starting right now.”

  What could this all be about? It must be huge!

  KAREN tried to remember the last time she'd felt this vulnerable. Perhaps it was when she spoke to Mike about children the way Claudia had coached her. She had forced herself to calm down and find out what he needed to accomplish before he'd be “ready” to have them.

  While Mike waited, his foot tapping, Karen looked at the notes she'd jotted down in the café.

  Because of Mike, I have

  1. A beautiful home with custom touches that couldn't be bought. It provides: safety, security, beauty, comfort, ease, happiness.

  2. The ability to teach kids and have summers off. It provides having free time, fun, doing something I love without having to live on a teacher's salary, not feeling poor, having play money.
r />   3. Plenty of physical affection. It provides feeling beautiful, being in my body, feeling safe, loved, liked.

  4. Hours of listening to me. It provides feeling loved, safe, known.

  5. Hours of talking to me (since I learned to listen). It provides feeling loved, connected, part of something special.

  6. A gardener. It provides a pretty yard without work.

  7. Takes care of the cars. It provides feeling safe, clean, loved and ladylike.

  8. Goes through the mail. It provides mean not having to, saves me time and headaches and feeling overwhelmed.

  9. Pays the bills. It provides safety, security and certainty.

  10. Puts the trash on the street. It provides feeling like I have a partner.

  11. Feeds the cats. It provides happy cats, free time for me, no stinky fingers.

  If Mike: It would Provide:

  A. Took out the kitchen trash when it's full Feeling like a Queen

  Saving me from the Uglies

  Having to wash hands

  Not feeling mad/a maid

  Wanting to cook for him

  B. Picked up his clothes and put in hamper Them not yelling at me

  1 less thing before bed

  A peaceful bedroom

  Me happy to crawl in w/

  him

  C. Did the dishes when I cook Feeling appreciated for it

  Want to cook more often

  Less tired/more sexy

  D. Closed the garage door Feeling safe, not mad

  Mike glanced surreptitiously at the paper in her lap. She instinctively pulled it toward her chest. Taking yet another deep breath, Karen began, “Today the topic was ‘Providers.’ Claudia and Burt both think men are all about providing.” She paused for Mike to comment.

  “I thought you wanted me to just listen,” he responded to the implied request.

  She frowned. “When I get to what I wrote down. You can talk during this part.”

  Mike scratched his head. “Okay, but remember my comments are limited. If I say that I absolutely agree, or ‘What else is there to do?’ does that count as ‘I coulda told you that’?”

  Karen couldn't help but smile. She sure had painted him into a corner. Out of fear. But what is there to be afraid of? That he'll agree to what I want but keep “forgetting.”

  “You're right. I'm being controlling. I'm afraid I'll mess up. I've already messed it up enough,” she said, exasperated.

  “What have you messed up?” Mike asked, his eyes gentle.

  Karen sighed. “I found out today that I've been nagging you the way socks on the floor nag me. They always manage to get me to pick them up. I never understood why it didn't work to get you to take the trash out. Today I found out — again — that you don't think like I do. You're lucky enough to have your brain screening out the nagging socks. Maybe, even, the nagging wife.”

  Mike patted her knee. “I don't mean to screen you out. But sometimes your voice sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher. Wa wa, wa wa wa waaa. I can't seem to understand what you're saying when I'm working on something else. Like I have ear plugs in or something.”

  Karen had to laugh. “Lucky you. Claudia says your brain naturally tunes out what it has deemed irrelevant to your current commitment.”

  “Well it makes it easier to focus,” he replied. “But harder to stay connected the way you manage to.” She could feel his compassion and it warmed her.

  Karen pressed on, “Anyhow, we learned today that men are not interested in doing stuff merely because it's there to do — like a woman would be inclined to. They said men only do things with outcomes that matter to themselves or to someone they care about.”

  Mike nodded. “That's certainly true for me. I've got a limited amount of time and energy. I'm not going to spend it on most things. It's got to be worth it.”

  “That's exactly what they were talking about. The expenditure of energy versus the benefit of the result. But how do you measure the benefit?” Karen asked, now glad Mike was participating.

  “There are lots of ways to measure benefit,” Mike replied. “In my business, it could be profit or reputation or good will. In our relationship, I care about whether it gives you something you need, or makes you happy, or makes your life significantly better.”

  Karen was startled. “And how can you tell?”

  Mike rubbed his chin. “Sometimes I watch you struggle with something. It's hard or time-consuming or gives you a headache. That's when I try to figure out what you need that I could provide. Like paying the bills or building a bigger kitchen.”

  He shrugged, “Happy is the easiest to tell. Your whole face lights up. Sometimes your whole being. Like a Christmas tree. Like points on a scoreboard.”

  Flabbergasted, Karen could only gape. “Points on a scoreboard?” she managed to get out.

  “Yep,” Mike said sincerely. “When your face lights up like that, I win! That's something I'm going to do again and again. Whether you ask me to or not.”

  Karen shook her head. It was right here in front of me all along. How does Claudia see these things that I can't? Because she's not blinded by assuming he's misbehaving. She looks for a good reason, finds one, and figures out how to work with it.

  “I'd like to share with you what I wrote down now,” she said. Turning the notepad around, she handed it to Mike. She unconsciously held her breath while he read it. After a few moments, he smiled. She breathed.

  “I didn't know that my affection made you feel beautiful. Or liked. That's cool. Especially since I need to touch you,” he said. “And I'm glad my taking care of the cars makes you feel ladylike. You are a lady. I'd do it anyway ‘cause I love it but I'm glad it provides that for you.”

  Still reading, he added, “Yep, you got the headaches down here.”

  He stopped with his finger on #10. “My putting the trash on the street makes you feel like you have a partner? All that for putting out the cans for the trash truck?”

  Karen nodded, her eyes holding his. Watching him move to the second list, she held her breath again.

  He looked up at her, clearly confused. “You really mean taking the trash out from the kitchen?” She nodded. “But that's the easy part,” he said. “To the street is a bigger pain in the butt.”

  She shook her head. “Not to me. They're different. One takes wrestling the heavy trash cans. And as you can see, you doing that provides a lot. But it's only once a week. The other happens every couple of days. And it makes me feel gross.”

  Mike went back to reading the long list associated with taking out the trash. He was clearly dumbstruck.

  “It's hard to believe it could provide all that,” he said. When she started to react, he added, “But I do believe you! It's hard though. I mean, it's only trash ….”

  He kept reading and exclaimed, “You'd want to cook more? How does that work?”

  “When I have to take out the trash, I get mad. I think I have to do everything. It pisses me off and I don't want to cook.”

  Mike kept looking down the list. “What do you mean in ‘B’ by ‘not yelling at me?’ I don't yell at you to pick up my socks.”

  She laughed. “No, Honey. You don't yell at me. The socks yell at me. It's part of the feminine brain. Things out of place in our environment ‘yell’ at us to fix them.”

  Mike was shaking his head incredulously. But he was clearly more fascinated by the list. He ventured, “’A’ and ‘C’ both make you want to cook more. And ‘B’ and ‘C’ both have to do with being open to sex …. If I'm reading this right, ‘C’ would get me sex and food … maybe I should just do the dishes … and ‘D’ is utterly confusing.”

  She playfully punched his arm and he wrestled her into an affectionate hug.

  “Is this what you've been trying to tell me all along? That you need me to take out the trash?” He smiled into her eyes as he held her close.

  Karen bit her lip but didn't resist the embrace. “I thought I was telling you that. I only found out today that I
need to tell you what it would provide instead of only nag you for not doing it.”

  She suddenly sat up straight, remembering the rest of the equation, “Burt said I should ask you what you need to take the trash out for me.”

  Mike sat back and smiled. “That's simple. I need you to tell me when you want it taken out.”

  Suppressing a groan, she said, “When it's full, naturally.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Full to one person isn't full to another, Darlin’.”

  Karen felt her eyes go wide. She connected one sentence to the other. This is personal, she thought. It's not “the trash is full” like a fact, inherently ready to go out and yelling at me. Mike's taking it out for me. That's why he wants to know when I want it taken out. That's when it's worth doing. For me. It's all about providing for me!

  Tears sprang into her eyes. Mike immediately looked concerned.

  “Are you okay?” he asked earnestly.

  She smiled through her tears and hugged him to her. “More than okay, Honey. Way more than okay.”

  He held her close and kissed the top of her head. “Then what's this about closing the garage door? When you're due home, I welcome you by opening it.”

  KIMBERLEE struggled with her assignment. Providing was easiest to see in the men who worked for her. And the more she noticed it, and the more points she gave them in the form of smiles and words in public and in private, the more they provided. It appeared to be an endless spiral of energy being given and exchanged. Energy that was growing between them rather than diminishing.

  As she munched her salad at her desk, she noticed her greatest obstacles were still her memories and their ability to trip her up. Now it was memories of her husband long suppressed. Her divorce had been made less painful by tuning into the bad things about their relationship. The bad things about him, specifically. His selfishness, his aloofness, his near-total lack of interest in her.