Unlovely (43 page)

She was still looking for a tissue.

"Claudia."

She looked up, her hands restless in the
purse on her lap, her orange lips trembling.

"Claudia, I need to say something
to you. I think I know why you're so upset."

"No, Mark. I'm not upset. Just a
little out of sorts. Give me a moment please, and I'll be fine."

Claudia was desperate to hide her grief.
The darkness that had been lurking on the edges of her mind all along was
shouldering its way in with alarming vigor. Why was it back? How could this
happen? And where was God in all this? She'd thought they had an agreement.
Wasn't He supposed to keep an agreement?

Claudia pushed her chair back from the
table. "You know, now that I think of it, I should probably go somewhere
and lie down for a while. Maybe I'll just lie down in the back of my car. I
don't think I want to talk any more right now. I'm so sorry. I dragged you out
of your house and now I'm deserting you."

Mark rose to reach across the table and
put a hand on her shoulder. "Just a minute, please. Don't go yet. I'm
sorry, but I need to say something to you. This may be the one opportunity I
get, so please let me."

Claudia made a small move to shrug off
his hand and shook her head violently. "No, really, you don't understand.
You don't need to say anything more. Please."

"I do. I don't want to bring up
painful memories, but I'm pretty sure you've been remembering them anyway, so
let's just get it out there. I've been wrestling with myself about whether to
talk to you about it, but I do think that it might help you to hear what I'm
going to say."

Claudia sniffled. She looked so ill and
so sad. Her hands were fidgeting in her purse. Was she hunting for something in
there? She wouldn't meet his eyes and looked at some spot over his head
instead.

Mark leaned forward and spoke in a
lowered voice. "Claudia, first, I want to say how great it was of you to
reach out to me. It was very kind of you to write and ask to see me."

Claudia briefly squeezed her eyes shut
to clear them of tears. Her hands kept working in her purse. Where are they? Oh
good – there – found them.

"Okay, I'm going to say something.
I hope it doesn't offend you. Can you look at me?" He paused for her to
lower her eyes to his face. "You're obviously ill, Claudia. Please don't
deny it. I could tell the moment you came in here."

"No!" Claudia thought, disappointment
ripping her heart. "I dressed for you. I'm beautiful for you." But
she said nothing, only stared.

"It was so out of the blue to hear
from you, that all I can think is that you want to have some sort of closure
with me. And then, with the way you've been acting since you got here –"

"No. I think you're
misunderstanding me," Claudia interrupted, but so weakly that Mark felt
quite sure he understood her very well.

"Please allow me to save you the
embarrassment of bringing up what's been weighing on your mind. Let me do
it." Now it was Mark's turn to avoid Claudia's eyes. He studied the table
so he didn't have to watch Claudia's face as he spoke. "I owe you an
enormous apology. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see how awful I was to
you at the university. I'm ashamed of myself."

"No, please –"

"No, let me finish. We all do
things we're ashamed of, and most of us never get the chance to make things
right. I know it must have taken a great effort for you to come here so we
could talk it out."

"I was on the way to my parents'
house, anyway," Claudia offered feebly.

"What I did to you is one of those
things. As a matter of fact, that one night – you know what I mean – it's one
of the most painful memories I have."

Claudia continued to fidget in her purse,
her eyes avoiding Mark's face again, her expression immobile except for the
occasional wince of pain as his words stabbed at her.

"When you wrote to me yesterday and
said you would like to see me, I felt this huge wave of guilt and I thought that
maybe, if the right moment presented itself, I might take this chance to
apologize to you. And then when I saw you, I knew I would have to do it. So let
me say it: I was an idiot. I used you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry and
ashamed."

"No, Mark, you didn't use me.
That's not what happened. You're not remembering things clearly."

He lowered his voice even further.
"Please don't try to spare me. I remember everything. I was a complete
stranger and I slept with you. I didn't know you and I didn't want to know you.
I didn't care what it was in your life that would make you willing to have sex
with a stranger. I used you. You gave me the opportunity to do it, and I
did."

Claudia's head snapped up.

"I'm sorry – I said that wrong, I
said it wrong." He hurried to make it better, sweating under his neatly
pressed madras shirt, miserable at his lack of tact. "I can't even do this
right. Let me rephrase that: you didn't give me the opportunity, I took it. You
were younger than I was and innocent. I got you drunk. And when it was over and
you were crying, I treated you even worse. I wouldn't blame you if you never
forgave me, I know I don't deserve it, but I'm begging you to anyway."

"Please stop," Claudia
interjected, frantic at Mark's bizarre interpretation of their romantic
history. "I know we had sex too soon in our relationship, but lots of
people do that."

"Of course they do. But I'm not
looking for excuses. I don't deserve your kindness. We didn't have any kind of
relationship at all. I took advantage of you."

"But afterward, when we went out
–"

"We were friendly, mostly because
you were decent enough to be nice to me, but we were never really friends. How
could we have been? We only had a couple of weeks to get to know each
other." Mark paused. Should he continue? Of course he should. It was wrong
to spare himself. "To be honest, I was such an ass that I thought I was
doing you some sort of favor. You were the noble and forgiving one, but I told
myself I was the hero. I told myself I was giving you the chance to turn the
disaster into some memory you could live with."

Claudia opened her mouth to protest but
Mark continued, "It wasn't you at all, Claudia, please know I don't mean
to imply that. You were in no way at fault in any of this. It was me. It was
completely on me. I think if you were being truthful, and not trying to protect
my feelings, you would admit that it was a relief when I left the
country."

"It wasn't," Claudia
whispered, her face pale except for two spots of high color on her cheeks.

"What?"

"It wasn't a relief when you left
me. I missed you terribly."

Mark was stupefied. She couldn't be
serious, could she? And what on earth was she fidgeting with in that purse?

They sat in tense silence for several
moments until Claudia finally spoke up. "You know, you never asked why I
wanted to see you today. You just assumed you knew. You're completely
mistaken."

Mark looked at the tiny woman fixing him
with her unblinking stare and felt like an ass again. He'd kept jabbering on
and on; he hadn't given her a chance to talk. Maybe she'd wanted to have her
say; perhaps it had meant something to her to initiate the confrontation, and
he'd babbled over it, stealing her opportunity. Maybe she had bigger concerns
than assuaging the guilt of a stupid middle-aged man.

"You're right. I didn't ask you.
I've been dominating the conversation and that was rude of me. I'm sorry."

Claudia drew a deep breath and expelled
it in a long, shivering breath. "So do you want to know why?"

I have nothing to lose.

"Yes, of course I do."

I have nothing to lose. I have nothing.

"I wanted to see you because I
wanted to pick up where we left off. You were the most important relationship
of my life." Claudia raised her chin defiantly, but her body was
trembling. "You are the only man I've ever loved. I want us to be
together. I have to say it. I have to tell you."

Claudia saw Mark's confusion and added,
"You may think you don't want to hear it, but I think you do. You really
do. You have to understand me." Claudia paused to draw another breath and
swallow hard. Mark was thunderstruck. Of all that he might have guessed Claudia
would say, a declaration of love was completely unexpected.

"I looked for you when I realized
that I was in love with you. I found you a while ago, months ago, not just the
other day. I didn't think there was a chance for us. I hoped there was, but I'm
not an idiot. Time marches on, as they say.

"And then when you wore the blue
sweater for your picture, I knew there was more than a chance that we could be
happy, and that you felt about me what I was feeling for you. You sent me a
message, Mark, and I understood it! I don't mean the message you wrote, I mean
the message through the picture, of course. The message only I would
understand. I was so excited. So when you said you wanted to see me, I drove
here right away. And now I meet you in this coffee shop, and you tell me that
you love your wife!" Claudia's voice broke with exasperation. "Why
would you say that? It doesn't make sense! It just doesn't."

Mark was transfixed by Claudia's face as
she spoke, the vein across the pale tight skin of her forehead protruding, her
feverish, unblinking eyes. He hardly comprehended a word she was saying as his
alarm for her grew. She was clearly delusional.

"And not only that – not only that,
Mark – but you tell me you felt nothing for me, when you know very well that
isn't true. In fact, you know, if you really think about it, you married me
that night, maybe not legally, but we were married. You and I are already
married, physically and spiritually. Don't you know that? You can't have
another wife. You can't. It's wrong."

Claudia's breath was coming rapidly.
"You know you loved me then. Not right away, maybe, but later. If only you
would admit that you loved me, we could have a real, honest conversation, but
for some reason, and I can't imagine what it would be, you've decided to
pretend that there was nothing between us." She leaned forward and hissed,
"Is it that you're afraid, Mark? Are you afraid of hurting Susan? I thought
you were stronger than that. Because it would be sad to hurt her, naturally,
but I don't think it makes any sense to live your life as if her feelings are
more important than yours, or as if what she wants matters more than what you
want, or what I want. The fact of Susan makes everything harder, to be sure,
but it doesn't mean it's impossible."

"Claudia –" Mark began, but
then checked himself at the sight of Claudia's face, where the bright red spots
that had appeared high on her cheeks began to spread and made her livid.

"No, don't look at me like you feel
sorry for me! That's not what you're supposed to feel right now. I don't need
your pity. I need to have a rational discussion with you about our future. That's
why I'm here. And I feel like you've thrown all these roadblocks in the way,
and it's not fair."

Claudia's voice had risen as she'd grown
more frantic, and by now Tom, the barista working behind the counter, had heard
enough to realize something was wrong with the weird lady at the table near the
wall. He walked out to the center of the room, ostensibly to wipe down a chair,
and took the opportunity to give Mark a significant look. Did he need help?
Mark returned the inquiry with an almost imperceptible shrug that meant “I
don't know,” then turned his attention back to Claudia.

"You're right, Claudia. It hasn't
been fair. I didn't realize what was going on in your head while I was talking.
It was thoughtless of me."

He had to get her out of here and into
an emergency room. She was clearly disordered in her thinking. Whatever illness
she suffered or medication she'd taken was making her behave erratically. He
had to calm her down and find a way to get her out of this shop as quietly as
possible. It had been a bad idea – a terrible idea – bringing up the past like
that. What had he been thinking? That he could make it all better? Or had he
just wanted to clear his conscience?

Claudia began to cry again with grief,
anger, exhaustion and frustration. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her
nose was running. Mark gestured to Tom to bring over a couple of napkins.

"Here, Claudia. Here, wipe your
face. Let me get you a drink of water."

"No, I'm fine. I don't need any
water."

"Well, here, at least take these,"
Mark said.

Claudia finally removed her hands from
her purse in order to grasp the proffered napkins, and as she did a drop of red
fell onto the table. Mark gasped as the bead of blood merged into the tea stain
on the cloth.

"Holy shit, Claudia!" He grabbed
her the wrists and flipped them over so that palms were exposed. "What the
hell have you done?" Claudia's hands were a pulpy mess of blood and frayed
skin.

"What have you done, Claudia? What
have you been doing?" Claudia was unresponsive except for her eyes, which
widened with fear, and a visible tremor that ran through her body.
"Someone call an ambulance!"