George decided to prepare
dinner as he waited for his wife.
It was Susanne who had
taught him to cook. The first time he tried cooking, he had nearly blown off
the kitchen. She had to clean all the mess.
The second time the
kitchen was fine. But the food wasn’t. Still when he gave it to her to taste,
she didn’t complain. She had a bite and said it was the best food she ever had.
When George tasted his
own food, he found out how miserable a cook he was. When he asked her how could
she find it tasty, Susanne said-
“Because it’s filled with
your love. It has you hard work in it. How can it not be tasty for me?”
George couldn’t say
anything.
He had been both a
terrible cook and a terrible student. But Susanne never complained.
He strolled around the
house while waiting for the timer to beep. While looking around he found the
corners of the house needed some cleaning. There was a snapshot of their
graduation on the wall just opposite the kitchen. “She’s the most perfect woman
I have ever met in my life”, he thought.
They first met during an
academic conference in college. And the first time he saw her he was dumbstruck
by her beauty. She was blonde with shiny golden brown hair cut short. The sky
blue sweater vest and black skirt she wore defined her curves well. Her black
silhouettes made her more graceful. George couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Hi I am George
Williams”, he stretched out his hand.
“Susanne, Susanne
Arquette”, she took his hand.
At that moment, somewhere
in his heart, George knew this was the woman he was meant to be with. There was
a pleasant smile on her face, one that would take all your tensions and worries
away. Her voice was filled with melody.
Within a month they
started dating. On their first date, George was late by an hour. When he
reached, there she was waiting with a smile on her face. George was surprised.
He was scared that when he reached she would freak out and start shouting at
him. But Susanne didn’t complain.
As days passed, George
knew that she was a good listener, compassionate about her work, and the
perfect woman he had ever met.
At work also, she had the
best ideas, made the best presentation, met the deadlines on time and within
six months of joining, she was promoted to the post of vice president of the
house.
Within a year they were
married.
The timer beeped. George
went to take out the potatoes. He decided to make some salad. The doctor had
told Susanne to have more vegetables after the accident. He knew it was his
fault. It was his fault that even after six years of their marriage they are
childless. It was his fault that there was no one to throw light in the house
that both of them had decorated with so much love. But Susanne never complained
about that.
They had been trying to
conceive from the second year of their marriage. After a year, the fertility
test had showed that his sperms had low motility. It was all his fault, George
knew.
Two years after the
fertility test, he got Susanne pregnant. Their happiness knew no bounds. He
still remembers Susanne’s face that night. That was the first time he saw true
happiness in her eyes. There it was, something more than that simple pleasant
smile. George just stared at her face in awe.
Last September, it was
Kelvin and Kathy’s marriage- their best friends from college. Susanne found it
hard to find a dress that would go with her bulging stomach. She was eight
months pregnant. But she was the perfect woman. She found out a blue satin
dress which made her look thinner and put on her best make-up. George looked at
her with pleasure. She was looking as beautiful as she looked on the first day
he met her. They had a lot of fun that evening. Susanne had also proposed a
toast to the happily married couple.
While returning back
home, Susanne had proposed to drive as he was a bit drunk. But George assured
her that it would be okay. He can take care of his wife and child. She believed
him.
The next morning, at the
hospital, George knew that it was all over. He had lost his child. The doctor
also told him that the accident had a terrible impact on her and so she can
never conceive again.
George broke down in
tears and cursed himself. Susanne was lying on a bed, asleep and calm, in a
private room with barely enough space to stand beside her in a secluded wing of
the hospital where they don’t visit for expectant patients.
Before the ultra-scan
Susanne told the doctor that they didn’t want to know the sex of the child. But
now George knew it was a boy. He had held his son close to his heart long
enough before the nurse came and took it from him. He wasn’t sure whether to
tell that to her or not.
When Susanne woke up she
sat with her eyes closed, her head in his arms. She never said anything to him.
But George knew that she will never be able to forgive him.
George found there was
nothing left except for a few carrots. “Strange!” he thought.
There refrigerator was
always stuffed with food. Whenever she went for shopping, she bought extra
bottles of oil, milk, juices, beer and wine; zippered bags of pasta,
vegetables, fruits and yam. Whenever he looked at the refrigerator, he was both
surprised and satisfied.
It never went waste. When
friends dropped by, Susanne would prepare the best meals. She would go through
different cookbooks and serve George a new dish every Sunday evening. The date
when they first had a new dish would be marked by the recipe in the book.
After their marriage,
George knew Susanne was the perfect wife. Their house was always clean. She
would keep the shoes in the closet, coats on the hanger by the door. She would
pay the bills as soon as they came.
Every morning Susanne
would wake up early, go out for jogging, come back and prepare breakfast for
herself and her husband, run her errands and then go to work. She was never
late.
But now it no longer
mattered her. She would keep her sneakers by the door when she got home, her
coat on the sofa. She no longer seemed to be disturbed by the fact that the
sofa didn’t go with the new Turkish carpet they got last summer.
George no longer looked
forward to the weekends when they would sit together in the morning solving
crossword puzzles or mow the lawn together.
He decided to put some
candles on the table. He began to open the drawers one by one. He tried to
locate a candle among the scissors, the eggbeaters and whisks, spoons and
forks. He found a packet of left-over birthday candles in the cabinet above the
sink.
On his last birthday,
Susanne had thrown him a big surprise party. One hundred guests had come-
neighbours, family, his friends from school, college and work. She had prepared
him a heart shaped pine-apple cake to show how much she loved him. It was his
favourite. The room was decorated with white and pink balloons and there was
wine kept in a tumbler full of ice. She had done this all herself alone.
Since last September,
they only had Susanne’s mother as their guest. The home had become lifeless.
Felicia came and lived for two months with them after Susanne returned from the
hospital. She cooked dinner every evening, did the cleaning and laundry and drove
herself to the market every Saturday. She was a religious woman. She took care
of all the household chores. She was polite to George without being friendly.
She knitted sweaters for him but gave them to him in the most unceremonious
manner. Though she never said anything, her eyes always accused her, “you are
the reason behind her misery.”
It has been three months
since that all stopped. Susanne has become more silent. She now didn’t care
about how she looked or the surrounding. Mostly they would have their breakfast
and dinner in silence.
She now took up more
assignments, worked overtime to run away from the pain her home gave her.
It had started raining
outside.
“She didn’t get a
raincoat”, George suddenly remembered.
George decided to grate
the carrots and make some macaroni. He started washing the carrots.
The doorbell rang.
It was Susanne. The rain
had nearly washed all her make-up. There was a thin line of lipstick on the
outer edges of her lips. The eyeliner she wore left patches of charcoal beneath
her eyes. She looked like this on mornings after late parties when she had been
too lazy to wash her face, too eager to drop in his arms.
She was standing there,
in a grey coat and blue denim over her white sneakers. There was a calm smile
on her face.
But her smile was no
longer soothing.
“It’s my fault”, George
knew.
But she never complained.
