“His
bruised memory has subsided again and until the next full moon no one will
trouble the professor – neither the noseless man who killed Hedeas nor the
cruel Procurator of Jueda, fifth in that office, the knight Pontius Pilate. “
"What
are you going on about?" Iris gently closes her book, but places it with
annoyance onto her lap.
"It's
from a book I left here...the first time we stayed here together. I was hoping
I could find it." Aidan traces the spines of the musty books on the shelf,
as if the one in question will light up when he touches it.
"Why
don't you just buy a new copy?" She bites her lip as the last word comes
out of her mouth.
Aidan
stops, his face red from stooping over. His finger never leaves the book he is
on as he turns his head to his wife of 15 years. "You not understanding
the importance of finding that book is exactly why we've taken this holiday
together in the bloody middle of nowhere." He returns to the stacks.
Iris
sighs and removes to hair band off her wrist and places it in her mouth before
pulling her ebony hair up into a hastily secured bun.
Aidan
stops, kneels and turns his head to her. "I'm sorry. There is something in
the book I am looking for." The fireplace crackles in the absence of their
talking. The clock in the kitchen keeps track of the seconds that elapse
between their exchange.
"Is
that why we came here?" The floor creaks as she stands and walks into the
kitchen. She can hear his hurried bare feet approaching. As she turns, he is
directly behind her.
"I
don’t want to give up on what we have – the life we’ve built." He places
his hands on her hips.
At
40, she knows he catches the eye of her girlfriends. He has the subtle graying
hairs that blend naturally with his short, blonde hair. His fine lines from
smiling are hidden by a week's worth of not shaving. His gray eyes have lost
the shine though.
He moves
his hands behind her ears, he loves her ears and the tiny emerald earrings
she wears, and how she tucks her dark hair behind her ears. He removes the band
from her hair, allowing it to fall around her face.
"I
was hoping that was why we were here." She threads her fingers in his belt
loops. As she takes a deep breath and looks into his eyes, she can smell an
intoxicating mixture of simmering wood and his cologne. "How did we get
here? How did we let this go?"
He
wraps his muscular arms around her.
She
leans into his chest. She can tell he is smelling her hair.
"Why
don't you pour us some drinks, I'll stoke the fire." He hesitates.
"We need to be honest with each other."
"I've
got nothing to hide. Bourbon?"
"Neat."
He kisses her on the head.
The
silence again fills the cottage on the harbor side in Findochty Scotland. The
boats move up and down as a storm gathers in the mountains. The sunset glows
off the water, pinks and golds reflect into the cottage, highlighting the
dwindling sun of the day. The fire is again roaring and Iris brings their
drinks over and sets them down on the trunk that serves as a coffee table.
She
sits and picks up her glass, a cloudy concoction that draws immediate attention
from Aidan. "Death in the afternoon? When did you become inspired by
Hemingway?" He picks up his bourbon and sits next to her.
She
puts her legs over his as they clink glasses. "I always wanted to try
absinthe." She sips the strong concoction and smiles.
"I
think Hemingway said drink three to five of those slowly. At this rate, you'll
be quoting Poe by midnight." The lines that had been missing from Aidan's
eye appear again.
"I haven't seen you truly smile in so
long." Iris looks down at her drink. "I was starting to think that
once I became a mother you had this weird psychological abhorrence of me.
Or you don’t find me attractive anymore. "
"Our
kids are 12 and 10...and you’re in better shape now than when I met you. Why
did you start thinking this now?" He sets his bourbon on the coffee table.
"I
read that somewhere. Tried to figure out what I was doing wrong." She
sighs and gives one of her slow blinks that drive him crazy. Crazy like he’d
like to rip her clothes off because when she does this her cinnamon eyes seems
so large and exotic and mind-altering. He calls them her gypsy eyes.
Aidan
takes the drink from her and places it next to his on the coffee table. He then
takes her hands in his. “Love, it’s not the kids. It’s not your body. And it
isn’t psychological. ” He hesitates. “Look, I think we should both just be
honest about our…”
“Our
what?” Iris sits straight up from her relaxed position.
“Our…you
know our affairs.” He stares at her.
“Where
was I going to find time for that between hockey games, swim practice, checking homework, and working midnight shifts for
that? Affairs?” She swallows, blinks, and then her eyes start to tear.
“Well,
I thought, you and someone at work…”
Iris
stands and runs her fingers through her hair. She bows her head and then
speaks. “Well I will be the first to admit that cops have to have a pretty
close relationship, but Jack and I don’t have that kind of one. You’ve never
even met him and you make this assumption.”
As
she takes a few steps towards Aidan, he stands in defense. “You haven’t had an
affair with anyone at work? I know this new partner of yours is young, probably
pretty attractive.”
“I
told you before I’ve nothing to hide. But apparently you’ve got something to
tell me?”
Aidan’s
face matches the red in his flannel shirt. Iris, who stands six inches shorter
than him, gets closer to him and stands blocking his only egress into the
kitchen.
Aidan bends his head back and rubs his face as if this now nightmare will be gone when he opens his eyes. “When I thought you were having an affair, I didn’t know what to do. That’s when I started staying late. I ended up at a bar a few blocks away from the firm. Met someone random. Someone who was just as confused as I was. ” He sits again, this time he clasps his hands over his head and talks into the floor. “I really swore you were seeing someone. You seemed so lost. So unhappy.”
Aidan bends his head back and rubs his face as if this now nightmare will be gone when he opens his eyes. “When I thought you were having an affair, I didn’t know what to do. That’s when I started staying late. I ended up at a bar a few blocks away from the firm. Met someone random. Someone who was just as confused as I was. ” He sits again, this time he clasps his hands over his head and talks into the floor. “I really swore you were seeing someone. You seemed so lost. So unhappy.”
Iris
walks over and sits on the coffee table. “My new partner is gay. He’s been
trying to figure out a way to really live his life and I was someone he could
talk to. And when I knew you were becoming distant, I started confiding in him…I
know I should have said something to you, what I felt, but I knew you’d deny
anything.”
Aidan
glances at Iris. “Maybe I wouldn’t have.” He stands, hovering over her.
“Are
you in love?”
“It
was only a few times. I felt so awful, but I figured that if you were out there
having some fun, why shouldn’t I.?” His voice begins to sound stressed. “I
don’t love him. I know I love you.”
“Him?”
Iris stands, almost falling over the coffee table.
“That
might be the other reason why I’ve seemed kind of distant.” Aidan sits on the
couch, Iris close behind and at his side.
“I
was curious. I always have been.” He voice trails off.
“We’ve
known each other for twenty years. How come I never knew this?” The tears begin
to swell again but never manifest. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? I’ve told you
all my desires and even my fears.”
“I
didn’t want to lose you.” Iris begins to speak, but Aidan cuts her off. “I
know, my reasoning doesn’t make sense. And you know this isn’t like when you
told me you wanted to try S&M. This is what’s been in my heart for a while,
it’s me.”
The
two sit in darkened silence. The sun has gone down. Every few seconds, a metal
railing or a green starboard light awakens the black air. A hint of the wind
can be heard with a clanging bell off on the other side of the harbor. Aidan
and Iris sit together, leaning into each other, exhausted. Their breaths begin
to match one another’s; seemingly in cadence for the first time in years.
“So
now what?” Aidan speaks in almost a whisper.
“Did
he help you?” She lifts her head off his shoulder and looks into this eyes that
hold the reflection of the fireplace. “Did he help us? I mean, as insolated as
I became, I can’t imagine my life without you, the kids…”
“I
think it did. It brought us here. I felt so guilty that I knew I had to do
something. I wanted to come back to a place where we had so many good memories.”
He kisses Iris’ forehead. “I’m curious, what did your partner say to you? What
advice did he give you?”
She
laughs to herself and shakes her head. “You two would get along great. He’s
incredibly smart, loves books. He said to me ‘manuscripts don’t burn.’ Of
course being only a lover of Anne Rice’s vampires and witches I had to ask him
what he was quoting.”
“The
Master and Margarita.” Aidan jumps up from the couch and runs over to the cutout
by the fireplace that holds the wood. He reaches his hand up behind into the
dark tomb and pulls out a book covered in dust. After some attempt to clean it
off, he opens the cover.
Iris
sits, slightly confused. “That reminded you where it was?”
Aidan
smiles and walks over and sits next to Iris. “Yes, you see that line is famous
in this book. It essentially means that whatever you are, whatever you’ve done
in life, you can’t destroy it.”
“But
why did you hide the book?” She takes it from him and turns a few pages.
“For
this reason. I remembered how innocent and happy and clueless we were when we
first came here. I had just read that book and it really had an impact on me.
It was something that made sense to me. But turn to chapter 31, in the back.”
Iris
flips the pages until finally, at almost the very end of the book, she comes
across a napkin. She takes it out and begins to laugh. ‘Seriously, you kept
this?”
“Well
you can't pass up an offer like ‘call me or regret it for the rest of your life’
written on a bar napkin.” He places his hand on her face. “I never wanted to
lose this, that passion.” The wind rattles the window panes outside as the two
lovers kiss. “So is this something that goes into the Christmas card update?” Adian
caresses her hair behind his wife’s ears.
“That’s
so funny that the two of you have this passion for that book. That there is a
line that captures the essence of life for you.”
“Since
we’re letting out all truths tonight. I do have another copy. I was actually
reading it when I met John.”
“Will
you tell me about him?” She pauses, “I mean, only if you want to.” She takes
his hands into hers.
Aidan
sighs. “I never thought I’d have to do this. Um, well, he’s young, like 25. We struck up a conversation over the book. Turns out
he had the same last name as one of the characters.”
“He’s
cute?”
“Are
you getting excited, little vixen?”
“I
want to know what he looks like. What’s he like?” She scratches her short
nails through his shaven hair.
“Adorable.
Your type probably. We promised each other as much anonymity as possible-it was
both our first time. So I don’t know a lot about him. He’s Russian, used to be a
lawyer. He’s a swimmer and …
“Ponyryov?” Iris hold Aidan’s face so their eyes lock.
“Ponyryov?” Iris hold Aidan’s face so their eyes lock.
“What?”
“Ponyryov?
Is that his last name?”
“It
is. How did you know? His name is John Ponyryov.”
“The
greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. Tattoo of a day of the dead sugar skull on his
shoulder.” Iris is animated as she describes this man. She finds her drink and
downs it all in one swallow.
“Sounds
like you know … him?”
Iris
begins to laugh. “I can’t believe it.” She laughs to herself and keeps saying “I
can’t believe it.”
“Iris,
what?”
“Jack.
I was giving advice to my partner, who I know as Jack, about none other than
you. I told him to go for it. I remember when you met. I remember when you
first had sex, which by the way, he described in adjectives I have never heard
before. You can’t make this up."
Aidan
sits on the couch stunned as Iris stokes the fire with a poker a few times to
awaken it. She walks to the kitchen, mumbling to herself, and pours
herself another absinthe mixed with champagne. The cloudy mixture looks orange
in the firelight. She turns to Aidan, still sitting in shock on the couch.
“Well,
you gave him good advice. And now that you mention it,” He picks up his bourbon
and takes a hearty hit of it, “he was very appreciative of the support a friend
gave him. The confidence you gave to him to follow his heart...Would
you have given me the same advice?”