Happy People Read and Drink Coffee
Read Happy People Read and Drink Coffee Online
Authors: Agnes Martin-Lugand
Also by Agnès Martin-Lugand:
Don't Worry, Life is Easy
(La vie est facile, ne t'inquiète pas)
Copyright © Ãditions Michel Lafon, 2013
Copyright © Translation Sandra Smith, 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the Publisher. For information address Weinstein Books, 387 Park Avenue South, 12th Floor, New York, NY 10016.
Printed in the United States of America.
Book design by Cynthia Young
Set in Adobe Caslon Pro
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available for this book.
E-Book ISBN: 978-1-60286-285-2
Published by Weinstein Books
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First Edition
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Guillaume and Simon-Aderaw, my life
“We are confident that the period of mourning will end after a certain amount of time, and we believe that it would be untimely and even harmful to interrupt it.”
âSigmund Freud, from, “Mourning and Melancholy,” in
Metapsychology
Contents
“Mom,
please
?”
“I said no, Clara.”
“Oh, come on, Diane. Let her go with me.”
“Don't think you can fool me, Colin. If Clara goes with you, the two of you will take absolutely no notice of the time and we'll end up leaving for vacation three days late.”
“Come with us then. That way, you can keep an eye on us!”
“Absolutely not. Have you seen how much I still have to do?”
“Even more reason for Clara to come with me, you'll have lots of peace and quiet.”
“Mom!”
“Fine. Off you go! Scoot! Disappear, the both of you.”
They left, laughing and fooling around as they went downstairs.
I found out they were still fooling around in the car when the truck crashed into them. I told myself they were still laughing when they died. I told myself that I should have been with them.
And for the past year, I've told myself I should have died with them. I tell myself that every day. But my heart stubbornly keeps on beating. And I'm still alive. Utterly miserable and still alive.
Sprawled out on the sofa, I was watching my cigarette smoke rise into the air when the front door opened. Felix no longer waited for me to invite him to come over. He simply appeared with no warning, or almost. Ever since we met at college, I'd learned how to deal with his faults. My oldest friend, and my business partner, he came over every day. Why on earth did I give him that spare set of keys?
I started when he came in, and ashes fell on my pajamas. I blew them off onto the floor. I went into the kitchen to get my next fix of caffeine so I wouldn't see him start to clean up, which he did every day.
When I got back, nothing had been moved. The ashtrays were still overflowing; empty cups, takeout containers, and bottles were strewn all over the coffee table. Felix had sat down, cross-legged, and was staring at me. Seeing him looking so serious upset me for a split second, but what surprised me more was what he was wearing. Why was he in a suit? What had happened to his torn jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt, the only clothes he ever wore?
“Where are you going dressed like that? A wedding or a funeral?”
“What time is it?” He was eyeing me carefully.
“You haven't answered my question. I don't give a damn what time it is. Did you dress up like that to pick up some stock market type?”
“I wish. It's two o'clock and you have to go get washed and dressed. You can't go looking like that.”
“Where do you think I'm going?”
“Hurry up. Your parents and Colin's will be waiting for us. We have to be there in an hour.”
My entire body started to shake, my hands began to tremble; I felt sick.
“Out of the question. I won't go to the cemetery. You hear me?”
“Do it for them,” he said softly. “Come and pay your respects; today's the day, you have to go, it's been a year, everyone will be there to support you.”
“I don't want anyone's support. I refuse to go to this stupid memorial service. Do you really think I want to celebrate their deaths?”
My voice was trembling and the first tears of the day began to fall. Through the mist, I could see Felix standing up and walking towards me. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me to his chest.
“Diane, please, come for them.”
I angrily pushed him away.
“I said no; are you that stupid?” I shouted when I saw him about to take a step closer. “Get out of my house!”
I ran into my bedroom. In spite of my trembling hands, I managed to lock myself inside. I collapsed against the door, hugging my legs to my chest. The silence that filled the apartment was broken by Felix's sigh.
“I'll come back tonight.”
“I never want to see you again.”
“At least make the effort to get washed, otherwise I'll throw you into the shower myself.”
His footsteps faded away, and when I heard the door slam, I knew he'd finally gone.
For a long time, I sat there, drained, my head resting on my knees, before glancing over to my bed. With great difficulty, I crawled towards it on all fours. I hoisted myself up and wrapped my duvet around me. As soon as I was in my safe place, I started searching for a hint of Colin's odor. The smell of him had disappeared long ago, even though I had never changed the sheets. I wanted to smell him again. I wanted to forget the stench of the hospital, the stench of death that had soaked into his skin the last time I rested my head against his neck.
I wanted to sleep, sleep would help me forget.
One year before, when I arrived at the Emergency Room with Felix, they told me it was too late, they told me that my daughter had died in the ambulance. The doctors gave me just enough time to throw up before telling me it was only a matter of minutes, possibly hours, for Colin. If I wanted to say goodbye, I had no time to lose. I wanted to scream, to shout that they were lying, but I couldn't. I had fallen headlong into a nightmare; I wanted to believe I would soon wake up. A nurse led us to Colin's bedside.
From the moment I entered that room, every word, every gesture became engraved in my memory. Colin was stretched out in the bed, hooked up to innumerable machines, noisy, flashing machines. He
could barely move; his face was covered in bruises. I stood there for several minutes, totally incapable of moving because of what I was seeing. Felix had come with me, and his presence prevented me from breaking down completely. Colin turned his head slightly to look at me, his eyes fixed on mine. He found the strength to try to smile. That smile made it possible for me to go over to him. I took his hand; he squeezed mine.
“You should be with Clara,” he said, even though it was hard for him to talk.
“Colin, Clara isâ”
“She's in the operating room,” Felix, said, quickly cutting me off.
I looked up at him. He was smiling at Colin and wouldn't look at me. My ears were ringing; my whole body was shaking; I could barely see. I felt Colin squeeze my hand tighter. I watched him as he listened to Felix give him news of Clara, explaining she was going to pull through. That lie cruelly brought me back to reality. In a broken voice, Colin told me he hadn't seen the truck; he'd been singing with Clara. I had lost the ability to speak. I leaned towards him, stroking his hair and forehead. He turned his face to look at me again. My tears made his features look blurred; he had already begun to disappear; I couldn't breathe. He raised his hand to hold it against my cheek.
“Hush now, my love,” he said. “Calm down; you heard Felix. Clara's going to need you.”
There was no way I could escape the look in his eyes, so full of hope for our daughter.
“But what about you?” I managed to say.
“She's the one who counts,” he said, wiping a tear from my cheek.
I was sobbing even harder, resting my face against the palm of his hand. It was still warm. He was still here. Still. I clung to that idea: still here.
“Colin,” I whispered, “I can't lose you.”
“You're not alone, you have Clara, and Felix will take good care of the two of you.”
I shook my head, not daring to look at him.
“Everything's going to be all right, my love, you have to be brave, for our daughter . . .”
His voice suddenly went very quiet; I panicked and looked up at him. He seemed so tired. He had used his last bit of strength for me, as always. I pressed myself against him to kiss him; he responded with the last bit of life within him. I stretched out alongside him and helped him lay his head on my shoulder. As long as he was in my arms, he couldn't leave me. Colin whispered that he loved me, one last time; I barely had time to say I loved him, too, when he peacefully passed away. For several hours, I held him, I rocked him in my arms, kissed him, breathed him in. When my parents tried to get me to leave, I screamed. Colin's parents had come to see their son, but I wouldn't let them touch him. He was mine and mine alone. It was Felix's patience that finally forced me to give in. He had taken his time to calm me down before reminding me that I also had to say goodbye to Clara. My daughter had always been the only person in the world who could tear me away from Colin. Death had changed nothing. I released my grip on his body. I kissed him on the lips one last time and left.
I was lost in a fog as I walked towards Clara. I only reacted when I was in front of the door to the private room where they'd put her.
“No,” I said to Felix, “I can't.”
“Diane, you should go and see her.”
Staring at the door, I took a few steps back before turning and rushing down the corridors of the hospital. I refused to see my daughter dead. I only wanted to remember her smile, her messy blond curls flying around her face, her mischievous, sparkling eyes on the very morning she had left with her father.
Today, as every day for the past year, utter silence reigned in our apartment. No music, no laughter, no endless conversations.
My legs automatically took me to Clara's bedroom. Everything in it was pink. From the moment I'd known we were having a girl, I'd insisted that the entire room be decorated in that color. Colin had used a phenomenal number of sly tricks to get me to change my mind. But I never gave in.
I had touched nothing; not her duvet, still rolled up in a ball, not her toys scattered all over the room, not her nightgown left on the floor, not her little suitcase with wheels where she'd put her dolls to go away on vacation. Only two things were no longer in her room: the fluffy security blanket she'd taken with her and the one I slept with.
After silently closing the door, I made my way to Colin's dressing room where I picked up a new shirt.
I had just locked myself in the bathroom to take a shower when I heard Felix come in. In the bathroom, a large sheet covered the mirror and all the shelves were empty except for Colin's cologne. No beauty products, no makeup, no creams, no jewelry.
The cold bathroom tiles had no effect on me; I couldn't care less. Water flowed over my body without making me feel any better at all. I filled my hand with Clara's strawberry shampoo. Its sweet smell brought tears to my eyes along with a morbid sense of comfort.
My ritual could begin. I sprayed myself with Colin's cologne, the first layer of protection. I closed the buttons of his shirt, second layer. I pulled on his hooded sweatshirt, third layer. I tied up my damp hair to keep the smell of strawberries longer, fourth layer.
In the living room, my garbage had all disappeared, the windows were open and it sounded like there was a battle going on in the kitchen. Before joining Felix, I closed the shutters in the living room. The semi-darkness was my best friend.
Felix had his head in the freezer. I leaned against the doorframe and watched him. He'd put his normal uniform back on and was shaking his bottom and whistling.
“May I ask what's put you in such a good mood?”
“The night I had yesterday. Let me make dinner and I'll tell you everything.”
He had turned towards me and was staring. He came over to me and took several deep breaths.
“Stop sniffing me like a dog,” I said.
“You've got to stop that.”
“What are you complaining about? I got washed.”
“It's about time.”
He gave me a peck on the cheek before getting back to work.
“Since when do you know how to cook?”
“I don't cook; I use a microwave. And I still need to find something good enough to eat. Your fridge is worse than the Gobi Desert.”
“If you're hungry, order a pizza. You can't cook anything. You'd even mess up a frozen dinner.”
“And that's why you and Colin kept me fed, these past ten years. You've just had a brilliant idea; I'll have more time to spend with you.”
I went and collapsed on the sofa. I was going to have the privilege of hearing all about his fantastic night. A glass of red wine quickly appeared in front of me. Felix sat down opposite me and threw over his pack of cigarettes. I lit one right away.
“Your parents send their love.”
“Good for them,” I replied, blowing smoke towards him.
“They're worried about you,” he said, sighing.
“They shouldn't be.”
“They'd like to come and see you.”
“Well, I don't want to see them. You're the only one I can tolerate seeing, lucky you.”
“I'm irreplaceable; you just can't do without me.”
“Felix!”
“Fine, if you insist, I'll give you all the juicy details about what I did last night.”
“Oh, no! Anything but your sex life!”
“Make up your mind. It's either my sexual exploits or your parents.”
“OK. Go ahead, I'm listening.”
Felix spared me none of the gory details. To him, life was just one gigantic party, spiced up by unbridled sexuality and by being the first to try illegal substances. Once he was in full flight, he didn't even wait for me to reply, he just kept talking, nonstop. He didn't even pause for breath when the doorbell rang.
