Barbara Benjamin
Fiction
3414 words
Three
Conversations
Rushing into the kitchen to grab a fast breakfast
before shoving off to work,
"I thought you were to be at work by now. What's the matter--your girlfriend
keep you up too late last night?" she muttered tersely. Her heels clicked a rapid beat as she crossed
the tile floor. The kitchen was the one
place they were most likely to encounter each other, so they agreed to adjust
their schedules to avoid these uncomfortable encounters as much as possible.
Until the divorce was settled, they decided that she'd take the upstairs
bedrooms and bath, and he would take the rooms on the lower level.
The middle level was the common areas—the living room, dining room, and
kitchen—a kind of free zone.
Bev glanced at her watch. She dove her head into
the refrigerator and started shoving things around.
"Damn," she muttered to herself. She grabbed some cheese and bread and flung
them onto the counter. She pulled open
the cutlery drawer, rattling through the cutlery for the cheese cutter. Finding it, she slammed it onto the counter
and heaved the drawer shut. The utensils
ricocheted off the drawer end as the drawer thudded to a sudden stop. Aaron watched the event the way a little boy
enjoys a circus. Bev
grabbed an orange and pitched it down by the cheese and bread.
"Don't be so tart so early in the morning.
Besides, it's none of your business anymore what I do," Aaron said
restraining an amused tone. He put down the paper and stirred the cold coffee
in his cup and continued watching her. "You'd
better get used to this arrangement. You know this is the way it's going to be until
we can decide on the division of property, or until ONE of us moves out."
He stressed the word "one," raising an eyebrow.
The corner of his fleshy lips curled up on one side.
"You jerk." She grabbed the orange and sliced it through.
"You think you're so superior because you make three times what I
do. Well, I'll find a way to stay here, you worm."
She knew without his income she wouldn't be able to meet the mortgage payments
and other expenses, although she still insisted that she would stay in the house.
"We'll just let the facts and figures speak for
themselves." He resumed reading the
paper, hiding a broad smile.
Bev swung around at his remark and glared.
She gritted her teeth and ground the orange with such fervor a seed propelled
across the room. It landed on the table with a ping, next to
Aaron's cup. He put his finger on it as
if squashing a bug and grinned. He took
his cold coffee and the seed to the sink and dumped them down the drain. The sun shone through the window over the sink
onto the potted plants lining the sill. Standing
close to Bev, Aaron absently picked at the drooping,
crusty brown leaves, dropping them into the sink. Bev shoved her things
down the counter away from him.
"Don't forget to be here tonight at
"You know I don't miss such things as that.
Why don't you just go to work and let me finish my breakfast in peace,"
she snipped and moved further away from him.
"Why don't you try to be a little more civil. This situation
isn't very comfortable for either of us. You
agreed to keep attorneys out of this, so curb some of this bitterness."
"Oh, of course.
We can afford to be cavalier when we hold all the aces, can't we?"
She threw the pulverized orange rind in the sink and poured the juice into
a glass. Aaron picked it up and surveyed the remains.
"Wow, Superwoman was here." He tossed the decimated orange peel back into
the sink.
"Leave me alone, chauvinist. Your lack of sensitivity makes me puke. You have no conception what it's like for a
woman." Bev
gulped down the juice and wrapped up the bread and cheese in a paper towel.
She walked to the table where her purse sat and searched through it for
her keys.
Aaron walked to a chair and picked up his jacket.
"I don't need to hear about your self-pitying
rantings. This subject
is getting worn pretty thin." He shot
a glance over at her and squared his shoulders. He sauntered casually out the door. Bev leaned against
the wall and fought the column of heat rising in her spine, watching him drive
away in the Mercedes.
"Wonderful. He
gets the house and the Mercedes. I get
the VW and the dog." She ran her shaking
fingers through her short black hair and reached for the phone to call her boyfriend.
She hesitated, then dialed.
"Damn," she sighed, slamming the phone down
when she heard the busy signal. Glancing
at her watch again, she resumed looking for her keys, finally finding them.
She walked out the door, kicking it shut behind her.
Beverly and Aaron's marriage had been disintegrating
for years. Most of the time they just went along with their lives together, floating
downstream facing different directions. They tried marriage counseling for a year, but
nothing seemed to change. They had many
friends, other married couples about their same ages. This group of friends had relatively parallel
lives—career moves, children growing up, and other similar phases as families
mature. Over the years, there had been several divorces
within the group. Nothing is much of a
surprise, though, within this tight-knit little group. They can detect disharmony
between spouses like litmus paper. When Bev and Aaron
announced to the group that they were splitting, everyone took it in stride and
were supportive. Both
were still invited to parties and other social events. It was left to Bev
and Aaron to decide individually whether they wanted to go. The couples avoided taking sides in any other
couple's lives.
Once at work, Aaron greeted the secretary and went
into his office, closing the door behind him.
He enjoyed the privacy of his office and the large window facing the
The room felt comfortable. It was his: the window, the view, the shadows. The furniture
was modern, the style he preferred. Everything
was sleek and angular with clean lines. He settled into his chair at the desk. He rummaged through the messages his secretary
lined up neatly, the way he liked it. He
carefully prioritized them. Three of them
he tossed in the waste basket. The rest he began taking action on—all business
associates who needed to talk to him. Aaron drew strong lines between his business
and personal life. He wanted clear distinctions,
like the line between shadow and sunlight. Only his children were free to call him at work.
Following his usual routine, at mid-morning Aaron
wandered out of his office for a cup of coffee.
He headed for the lunch room, also a gathering place for coffee breaks.
The room smelled of fresh brewed coffee and seemed friendly and warm.
The employees took care to keep two pots of fresh coffee on the warmers. The center of activity, someone was sure to
be in the lunch room whatever the time of day.
Just before going in, Aaron hesitated at the door, smoothing down his hair
and listening for who might be there. He
heard two men he knew discussing some feature of a new program they were implementing
in the plant. He expelled a silent breath,
straightened his tie and walked in confidently.
At the sink he stopped to wash his hands and looked
at his image in the shiny towel dispenser. He
was proud of his good looks and excellent physical condition. At 49, his tall, thin frame was toned through
regular exercise. His graying black, wavy
hair gave him a distinguished appearance. When
he walked, his body followed his chest like a peacock.
"Hey, Aaron, how's it going?" called one
of the men as Aaron washed his hands.
"Hi, Aaron.
Well, Sid, gotta get back to work. See you both later," called the second man as he walked out
of the room.
"Hi Sid.
Oh, I'm doing great. Have you solved
that problem with your silicon supplier?" Aaron questioned.
"Chet and I were just talking about that when
you walked in. I think we're getting it
straightened out finally. Say, how's Bev and the girls? Haven't seen her since the Christmas party last year."
"Yeah, she's doing OK. The girls are great. Laura just started college, you know. Dena will be graduating next June."
"My God, Aaron.
Hard to believe, huh? My twins are sixteen now. Do you think we are getting as old as our kids
are? Or does raising them stunt our growth
and we just stay the same age we were when they were first born?"
"Well, if loosing your hair is any indication
of stunted growth, I guess I qualify," Aaron chuckled. His hair hadn't thinned much on top, just towards
the center in back so that it looked like he always wore a yarmulke.
He reached up reflexively and smoothed down the hair stragglers still clinging
back there. Sid's hairline had receded a little, but he
still had most of his thick, red hair.
"Well, you know what they say about bald----or,
balding----men, don't you?" Sid laughed,
sensing he should smooth over a nerve he thought he saw spark in Aaron.
"Right, I heard that old saw, but I won't tell
you if it's true or not!" Sid's name
was paged. Aaron felt relieved.
They exchanged customary "See you later's,"
and Sid walked away. Aaron poured a cup
of coffee, added cream and sugar, shifted the knot in his tie and made sure his
shirt was neatly tucked into his pants. He
picked up his cup and turned to leave. As
he walked to the door, Susan walked in.
"I was just trying to call you, so now I know
why you didn't answer the phone," Her hand pushed back imaginary stragglers
of hair from her face. She walked towards
him, but he side-stepped around her to go towards the door. "I wanted to see what time you wanted to
meet for lunch." He turned his head
to look at her.
"Oh, lunch." He cleared his throat and smoothed
back his hair.
"You say that like you forgot. Did you? You
didn't return my messages." She squinted
her eyes searching his face closely. They hadn't talked for over a week. She was becoming anxious about their relationship.
He seemed to be getting distant lately.
Aware of the pressure he was under from the divorce, she was careful about
pushing him, and he said he wanted their relationship to remain confidential,
even though he was now free to date openly.
"Uh, no, of course I didn't forget. I was, uh, just going to give you a call when
I got back to my desk. It's just that things
have gotten real busy lately. I think we'd
better go some other time." A trickle
of sweat ran down his back.
"Aaron, what's going on? Since you and Bev
decided to divorce, things have changed. It
seem like you're trying to avoid me. Please
tell. . ."
"You know we can't talk here, Susan," he
interrupted. "Look, I just need some
time, that's all. I gotta get back to my office." He stepped sideways around her to get through
the door. He walked briskly down the hall.
As he approached his office he realized she had followed him.
She spoke just as he turned his head to look at her.
"Oh, Aaron, I need to talk to you about that
account you mentioned. I'm glad I found
you on your way back to your office because I was trying to call you earlier."
Susan's manner was business-like and calm.
Aaron glanced over at his secretary, who was engaged
in some task. He was annoyed.
He stalled just outside of his office door, trying to think of a way out
of this, but couldn't.
"Can we discuss it later?" He put his hand on the doorknob to shut the
door.
"I'm on my way to a meeting and I need the information
now, if that's OK." She walked passed
him into the office and sat down in front of the desk. He shut the door and looked at her.
"What's wrong with. . ."
"Tell me what's going on, Aaron. What do you mean you need time? Everything was just fine while you were married.
Now you're free---or half way, anyway---and all of a sudden you're acting
funny and don't have time to see me now. Why?" She sat rigid waiting for his answer.
"Look, Susan, I don't think it's wise for me
to take on any obligations of a relationship right now. I was married for twenty-three years and now
I need some fresh air." He sat down
behind his desk and picked up a pen, noisily tapping a rapid beat on top of his
desk.
"I haven't asked you for any kind of commitment,
Aaron. I'd just expected us to be together
in a 'normal' way now that we can. You know how it's been for the last year. We've had to be careful not to be seen. The only thing we could do was meet at my place for lunch or sometimes sneak a few hours together
at night. Now that we can be open and go
out in public, you're avoiding me. What
gives?" She pulled the chair up directly
across from him to be face-to-face. She wanted him to look her squarely in the face.
He swung around in his chair and looked out the window.
"Can't we just be friends?"
"Friends!?"
She lurched forward in the chair and dug her nails in the cloth seat.
"Not too long ago it was love and soulmate.
Now it's just friends? How can anyone
develop friendship this way?" She
brought her fist down on the desktop and got up. It suddenly flashed before her. "Oh, I see. The warmth and sharing—the
touching and dreaming—the fantasies and dreams. That's all they were—just fantasies and dreams---all
in the cozy safety of my small, quiet apartment." She turned away and brought her hand to her
forehead. "All fantasies
and dreams. I can't fight this,
can I?" She headed to the door, swallowing
hard and checking her eyes for tears. Aaron crossed his arm heavily across his chest
and turned towards her again.
"I don't know what you mean. I don't need this pressure. I told you, I need some fresh air. What's wrong with that?" His feet were restless. He shuffled them under the desk, pressing his
eyes into her back.
"The air used to be fine at my place, Aaron.
Now that things can be legitimate and open, the air suddenly turns stale.
I guess I was the fool." She
bit her lip, slowly opened the door and walked away.
He got up and walked to the door, watching her walk
away. Then he shook his head like a wet
dog, shut the door and returned to his desk, shoving through papers. He picked up a file from one of the stacks and
began working on it.
The ringing phone startled him. He looked at the desk clock and noted that it
was past
"Hello, this is Aaron."
"Hi, Aaron.
It's me, Julie. Hope I'm not interrupting
you."
"Julie? No,
no. Not at all.
I was just thinking of grabbing some lunch.
What's going on?"
"Well, I just wanted to remind you that the singing
group meets tonight. You said you'd like
to come, remember? Can you still make it?"
Julie's voice was welcome relief to him.
She and her husband, Sam, had been friends for years.
They were one of the "group." Now that he and Bev
were divorcing, Julie's been good about inviting him places and making sure he
wasn't alone. She's always been there to
talk to when the problems got too heavy.
"Yes. Yes,
of course. I've been looking forward to
it. I always wanted to come, but Bev
never wanted to, so. . . well, you know that story.
It's such a pleasure now to do all the things I want to do and not worry
about what someone else wants to do." He
leaned back in his chair and swiveled around to look at the bay.
"Yeah, I know, I envy you. Sam doesn't like to go either, but I go anyway."
Aaron sank deeper in his chair, resting his feet on
the window sill. He smoothed back his hair.
"Well, don't envy anyone until you know how they
die."
"Hmmm, yes, I guess you're right----that makes
sense. But you always make so much sense.
You seem to think about things most people don't think about.
That's what I like about you. You
make me think----not like most men I know."
"Careful now, Julie.
Flattery will get you somewhere."
"Gosh, I hope so." They both chuckled. "Anyway, we can go together tonight.
It'll be fun. Everyone will be glad to see you there. Is everything OK with your situation at home?"
Julie knew all about their arrangement.
She and Aaron talked frequently at parties and other functions that the
couples attended.
"Well, you know how Bev
wants the house. The negotiator is coming
tonight to help us figure it all out. But
I don't care about material things. The
house really doesn't mean much to me. Relationships with people are what's important to me. I'm
just a simple kind of guy. My daughter
says I remind her of Forest Gump." He played with the curls in the phone cord.
"You're so thoughtful and gentle, Aaron, and
you have some really nice female qualities. That's
important to women, you know. Boy, a woman
would be so lucky to have a man like you. I wish Sam was more like you. He's all business and facts. Not like you.
You like being open and talking about things. I really appreciate having a friend like you."
Aaron sat up straight in his chair and smoothed the
hair on the top of his head.
"Well, Julie, you know you're important to me.
I just couldn't have gotten through all this mess if it wasn't for you----and
Sam. So, about tonight. Did you say it was at
"OK, that sounds perfect. See you at