Читать книгу The Smell of Spring. And other stories - Julia Frauental - Страница 2

Sounds of the morning and the smell of the summer garden were coming from the open window.

It was still fresh and cool. The early birds were chirping merrily. The breeze was blowing up the curtain, carrying the aroma of freshly cut grass and the scent of peonies with it.

«The peonies will crumble soon,» thought Henry. He grinned sadly, sighed and rubbed his forehead with his palm, trying to focus.

For several minutes now he had been sitting indecisively over a blank page of a new ruled notebook. Frowning and nervously tapping on the table with a pen, he was looking in front of him absentmindedly, clearly delaying the moment when what was in his mind and soul would be reflected on paper. In the meantime, all this internal struggle of feelings and thoughts was reflected only on his tired face.

He threw the pen down and leaned back against the back of the chair. He closed his eyes for a minute, then opened them again and let his gaze slide down the countless bookshelves along the walls, as if stroking the multi-colored spines of the books.

Then his gaze swept across the brown leather sofa – in cheerful sunspots, along the sculptural folds of the blanket hanging lazily down to the floor, over the intricate patterns of the old carpet, jumped up to the writing table – a huge one covered with soft leather, with small bureau drawers, a bouquet of pencils, and a careless scattering of small office supplies…

There were some framed family photos, too – he and his wife, the children – as babies, at school, at the university. His own diplomas and framed certificates, souvenirs and memorable gifts were behind the glass cabinet doors.

Finally, in the corner – to the right of the door – there was an oasis of modern technology: telephone-fax, computer, scanner, printer, all fenced off by a screen with birds of paradise – at the insistence of his wife, a big fan of feng shui.

Henry stretched out and rubbed his palms with force. Inspired by the support of his cozy office, he perked up and took up his pen resolutely.

At that moment, a tall blonde woman wearing shorts, a plaid shirt, a Panama hat and rubber gloves came out into the garden. In her hands she was carrying a bucket, gardening tools and a small bench.

Having chosen one of the flower-beds, which could be hardly seen under the thickets of joyfully greenish weeds, she sat down and bent over it. Now Henry could only see her checkered back and the white panama. The sight of his wife, concentrated on her work, unexpectedly became the last straw, and Henry, without wasting any more time, started writing quickly in his notebook. In black on white – literally the following:

«And here she is. Lisa, my wife.

She is already fifty. And I will soon be fifty-three myself. So what? She is still as irresistible as ever. And I am fascinated and chained to her forever. And I feel like a bloody fool!» He stressed the word twice furiously, – «trying desperately to get it. After all, I am her husband. And I have the right to know…» – after a pause, he crossed out the beginning of the sentence. Then he quickly continued:

«I just want to write it all down to get rid of the memories, to let go. Forget. Five years have passed and we never talk about it. But sometimes I suddenly find myself in a fierce dialogue with… myself – proving something, accusing someone. And even nightmares like She’s gone! She’s left me! And stuff like that. It’s driving me crazy. Sometimes I’m really – literally afraid of losing my mind.»

Suddenly, he heard a loud scream. Henry shuddered and raised his head. Shrieks and laughter mixed with curses were coming from the garden. He ran to the window.

The battle on the lawn was in full swing: with the remarkable courage of George the Victorious in his fight against the snake, Lisa was fighting with the garden hose, which was unusually strong – as if suddenly it became alive and got out of her hands, watering her from head to toe. And she, all wet through and through, laughed and shouted: «Ay! Help! Henry! Help! Quick!»

He rushed to the rescue.

The hose, having broken free, was jumping happily across the freshly mown lawn, flooding it. Stumbling over the pipe of the irrigation system, Henry almost fell down. But the push was enough to start all the lawn sprinklers. The spraying and spinning jets scattering from the ground in different places at the same time were an enchanting sight. Salutes of sparkling splashes were shimmering in the sun with scattering of diamond dust and were generously watering the grass, flowers, bushes and the laughing spouses.

In search of shelter, Lisa, soaked to the skin, ran into the house, and Henry began to make his way to the valve, trying in vain to hide his face with his hand from the bouncy jets drumming on his body.

Finally, he managed to close the water. Uh -uh.

He stood for awhile, basking in the sun, smiling, the water dripping down him – feeling young and, literally, refreshed.

There was a rainbow over the lawn.

In the evening, they were sitting in silence in front of a lit fireplace in the living room. From the garden there came a smell of smoke from someone’s barbeque fire or a sauna chimney and a chirping sound of the night crickets. The burning logs were crackling. An open book lay on Henry’s lap, while he was looking into the fire, enjoying this ancient human right, a way to partake in the mystery of life.

Sometimes he glanced at his wife out of the corner of his eye.

Swaying in a wicker rocking chair, Lisa was also gazing at the flames – through a glass of dark ruby wine. Her polished nails were the exact same color. Lost in her thoughts, she was tapping the fingertips of her free hand on the arm of the chair.

– What are you thinking about? He asked, afraid to hear the answer and not daring to touch her hand.

– Well, nothing really. She yawned sweetly and smiled at him. – I feel so sleepy. I’m going to bed.

She got up, gently patted her husband on the back of the head and kissed the top of his head.

– Good night, dear.

– Good night.

He watched her leave the room. He wanted to throw the book, the glass, the poker violently, to bang his fist, to make a scandal… He sighed, put the book down and covered his face with his hands. Then, rising abruptly, he went to the fireplace, stirred the coals sparkling with red gold and went out into the misty, moist, dense cricket twilight of the garden.

He swallowed the cool air with the scent of pine, smoke, wet flowers and grass – like a healing balm.

The most delicate peony petals have already covered the ground near the veranda with a soft pink carpet. Delicate, subtle and tenderly killing was the fragrance of the tea roses in drops of evening dew. This is, after all, unbearable!

He slammed his fist against the veranda post. Today he will not sleep until… Henry entered the house decisively and locked the door.

In his office, he lit the table lamp, sat down at the table and immediately began to write, easily extracting from his memory the events of the recent past.

«Lisa first mentioned this name in March of the ninety-ninth. She then led a women’s yoga group. And one day at breakfast I began to ask her about it.

– Well, how are things in the group? Do you even have a quorum?

– It’s okay. Now there are twelve of them, so we are working with might and main. She spread strawberry jam on the toast. – Oh, yes… I wanted to tell you something. Rather, I have been meaning to ask you for a favor for some time now.

– What? – I was on my guard, knowing her lynx habit to sneak up silently.

– There’s one girl in the group, Nina. She’s about thirty, I think…

– Yeah, a girl in her thirties. So what?

– You see, I think she needs a course of therapy. Maybe you could find time and… well… schedule a session for her? – She looked at me pleadingly, nibbling on the edge of her transparent cup of green tea.

– What makes you think she needs therapy? Did she ask you for help? – I didn’t like the idea. I had loads of clients.

– Henry, you know, I am all for a holistic approach. Doing yoga, we try to harmonize all spheres of our life, – Lisa pulled on a mockingly advertising tone, – but sometimes other means and methods may be used to achieve this. The girl looks so tight, tense, brooding and sad, her eyes full of Weltschmerz – ever so melancholic.

– She seems to be a poet by nature or head over heels in love.

Lisa looked at me with a silent reproach. Pretending to be offended, she frowned and pouted her lips. I gave in.

– Well, fine. Tell her, she can call me and we’ll arrange a meeting.

– Thank you, dear. God will reward you for your kindness! – Cunning devils were jumping in her eyes.

– I’m just honestly making my living. Thank you for promoting me to your clients. By the way, do you have any idea what her problem is? However, no, forget it, don’t tell me.

– I don’t know, – Liza shrugged her shoulders, – She’s all so timid, shy. She wouldn’t even discuss it. When I gave her a hint about psychotherapy, she said that she was not yet crazy enough to go to psychiatrists. But, of course, I began to persuade her, and to praise you – how kind, smart and understanding you are.

– Yeah, I know you can persuade! – And I chuckled meaningfully.

She blushed and, jokingly, gave me her most fatal seductive look.

*

The girl in question called me a few days later. We agreed on a session next Wednesday.

When she told me her last name on the phone – Brioche – I immediately imagined a kind of pink-cheeked chubby simpleton with a fair-haired braid to her waist.

But at the appointed time, a fragile brunette with a short haircut and all in black – a black sweater, black miniskirt, black pantyhose and shoes entered my city office.

French bohemia – I defined her style for myself.

A high forehead, large sad eyes betrayed, at least, a thinking nature – difficult clients, but interesting.

I held out my hand to her, smiling:

– Hello. I am Doctor Henry Goldberg.

– It’s nice to meet you. I am Nina. – She shook my hand in embarrassment and smiled faintly. The hand was cold, as if she was just from a winter street.

– Please, sit down – right here. – I showed her to the client’s chair. She sat down on the edge, taut like a string. I felt like loosening the tuners and putting her at ease.

She was not pink-cheeked, of course, but she was not pale either. She had a rather dark complexion, long fingers, and bracelets on her wrists, but no watch.

Oh, well. We’ll see.

I sat down opposite her.

– So what brings you here?

She chuckled:

– Fate, obviously, or maybe, as they call it now, karma.

– Well, okay, but seriously? What worries you?

– Well, in general, nothing in particular. It’s just… I’m afraid… um… afraid to be happy. That’s all.

– Wow! You are a very advanced client! Most need several years of therapy before the thought first crosses their mind.

She grinned sadly again.

– And if we try and specify? What exactly are you afraid of?

– Well, I’m – literally – afraid to feel happy. The very feeling scares me. I find it difficult to relax, let go, enjoy life, do what I want… To love the one, I want to love … – Without looking at me, she smoothed the hem of her skirt, and then pulled the sleeves of her sweater to the very fingertips, as if she wanted to warm her hands.

– Excuse me, are you religious? – I asked the next question. – I mean, maybe your religion forbids you to enjoy life?

– No, I cannot say that I am so religious, or that religion limits me. Although, of course, there are social stereotypes of what is expected of a woman. And they, in many ways, are quite medieval… I understand, of course, that, in fact, I am free – to be myself, to choose what I want… And yet for some reason I cannot. It’s just that I panic every time I start… when I try… – She looked at me with a guilty smile, but also with hope.

– I see, all cats love fish, but fear to wet their paws – I summed up the preliminary result. – You know, for some reason it seems to me that it is your intellect that prevents you from being happy. Just kidding. But it can also help if used correctly. Tell me, did you feel happy as a child?

I listened intently as she was telling me her story – uncomplicated and not particularly dramatic. Her story was sincere, not without humor, sometimes slightly ironic. I felt more and more sympathy for her.

She spent her childhood with her grandmother, loving, but harsh. Her mother worked a lot, went on business trips. She considered herself quite happy, but the absence of parents in her early years greatly influenced her oversensitive nature. Although she learned to cope with life, to stand up for herself, to control everything, until now she felt a certain ambivalence in self-identification – in the absence of stable images of father and mother.

– … I think that’s why I always fell in love with men much older than myself. And I always reached out to older women who guided and supported me. It helped me to survive… But, to be honest, I have no idea what it means to live my life without having to earn someone’s approval or impress someone. And that’s why I probably feel infantile – I just can’t grow up. – Nina sighed and smiled a tired and quite adult smile.

– You could be a psychotherapist yourself. No kidding! – Her thoughtfulness and tendency to analyze impressed me very much. – And what is your profession?

– Philologist, a linguist, in fact. Presently, I teach at school.

«I bet she doesn’t really like it.» I thought to myself.

We agreed to start a course of therapy. And she began to come regularly – once a week, on Wednesdays.

After a while, I found myself looking forward to these meetings and looking forward to our conversations. I liked her. Everything about her – the way she looked, how she moved, how and what she said – attracted me. Especially charming was the combination of ironic wisdom and insight with naïve and trusting purity. I was delighted with her rapid and obvious progress in therapy. I enjoyed exploring the secrets of her personality with her.

I was aware of the fact that sometimes I became too involved in the process and that, along with just a kind attitude, I developed paternal feelings for her and even felt attracted to her at times.

But this did not bother me too much, since such things often happen in our business. And I completely controlled myself and the process and kept the distance.

*

One evening I saw Lisa in a new smart dress standing in the hall by the mirror and putting on her earrings.

– Are you going out somewhere? – I was surprised that she didn’t say anything to me.

– Yes, to a party. A girl from my group has a birthday today. We are all invited to the «Fairy Tale» cafe. – She was concentrating on painting her eyelashes with mascara.

– Since when have you started spending your free time with your clients? Are you such good friends now?

– Yes. So what?

I couldn’t believe my ears.

– But you know very well that professional ethics…

But she interrupted me, laughing:

– Well, okay, Henry, stop it. I’m not a psychotherapist and I’m free from all these restrictions. For coaches – no prohibitions!

– And yet, please be careful! Don’t get too involved. – I understood that now it is impossible to dissuade her.

– Don’t worry. We’ll just have a little fun. She ran a chocolate-colored lipstick over her lips. —Would you grudge the girls hanging out and having a little fun together? We need rest too, you know. We need to relax, gossip. Talk about feminism … – She was obviously teasing me.

– Oh no, not feminism! Besides, I want you to be with me – today and always! But – okay. Go. Have fun. And here, all alone, I will find myself some harsh male entertainment too.

– Oh, please, only no porn! Look at me! Okay. Let it be a draw – one to one. Bye, dear! – She gave me a kiss on the cheek, grabbed her purse and fluttered out.

– Have a good one! Call me if you come back late, I’ll meet you!

Having closed the door behind Lisa, I felt lonely and abandoned. The house was quiet and empty. I turned on the TV. For some time, I was switching channels – there was nothing to lay an eye on. I went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Then shut it. I didn’t feel like eating. I turned on the computer, but I couldn’t concentrate on work either, it did not work out. I looked for some suitable book. Suddenly, I came across an old photo album.

I looked at family photos – there were pictures from the wedding and those of our children – here are our twins, newborns, now – they are already crawling, here we are all at the sea-side. Here is our daughter in her prom dress, and the son in a suit with a bow tie…

I was almost crying. I quickly hid the album. The children have their own lives.

My wife, as it turned out, too.

I decided to take a walk. I needed to calm down the almost neurotic anxiety, which seized me for no reason. My throat was already tight. I was also overcome by vague suspicions, and jealousy that had crept from nowhere.

It was a warm May evening. All squares and yards were foaming with apple blossom and lilacs. The blissful silence, however, was electrified by the anticipation of a long-awaited thunderstorm.

I walked unhurriedly, but already realizing that I was walking for a reason, heading to the aforementioned «Fairy-tale» café.

There it was. Naturally, I did not go inside, I stopped at the large, brightly lit windows decorated with neon characters from fairy tales. Feeling like James Bond, I looked through the window.

The party was in full swing. I looked for Lisa. She was standing with a glass of champagne in her hand and laughing at something that …Nina was telling her! The girls standing nearby were laughing too.

For some reason I didn’t like it. It was annoying that they were clearly having a good time there, and I was hanging out here like a fool.

Indeed, it was rather stupid to hang around there, peeping through the window. Passers-by looked sideways at me. Or maybe it just seemed so to me. Yet, I could not leave either. So, assuming as independent a look as possible, I continued to observe.

They brought in a cake with burning candles. There began cheers, choral «happy birthday», clinking of glasses, hugging and kissing. Then they turned on the lights and music – the dancing began.

Lisa said something in Nina’s ear and pulled her hand. But Nina shook her head, clearly refusing. Then Lisa put her glass on the table, hugged Nina from behind around the waist and pulled out, rather, carried her into a circle. So they danced. Together.

I felt weak in the knees. I couldn’t believe my eyes. What an evening! I leaned against the wall. For the first time I regretted not smoking. My heart was pounding, my temples were thumping. I had to resort to breathing exercises. Exhaling slowly («Calm down, all’s fine!»), I tried to distance myself from the emotions and reason logically. Well, what actually happened? Nothing special. They were having a birthday party. Well, they had a drink, hugged. A usual thing. Nothing wrong with that.

It was already rumbling in the sky. It smelled like rain.

I almost persuaded myself, caught my breath and was going to leave slowly. But then several ladies came out of the front door. It turned out that the evening was over and they were leaving.

I had to hide around the corner.

In a chirping flock, they headed for the tram stop and the cars parked nearby. Lisa and Nina walked arm in arm. A tram appeared. They kissed, and Nina ran to the carriage.

The rain spattered. Everything moved faster, like on an old silent film strip. The umbrellas flew up. Heels flashed. A strong wind blew everyone under the sheds, cornices and into the last trams and buses overcrowded by those taken by surprise.

They kissed. Lord, what a habit!

Lisa got into someone’s car. I had to catch a taxi to get home in time for her arrival.

At home, I immediately crawled under the covers and pretended to be asleep…

In the morning, on the way to the bathroom, I saw Lisa on a rug on the veranda, doing her yoga asana.

She joined me after a while, when I was already drinking coffee in the kitchen, hiding behind a newspaper, just in case.

Lisa poured herself some orange juice and sat down at the table.

– How was your party yesterday? – I was the ease itself.

– Perfect. Did you miss me?

– On the contrary. I watched a horror film. – I almost did not lie.

– Ugh! You’d better do sports. You look tired.

– By the way, speaking of sports, how is your protégé Nina doing in class now? – Couldn’t help it.

– Oh, much better! You guys are doing a great job! She became much more relaxed. She no longer cries when stretching.

– Doesn’t cry? Did she use to cry before?

– Almost every time. As soon as I touched her to help relax her leg or shoulder, she was in tears – like a stream. And she could not explain it in any way. Does it really hurt? What do you think about it?

– Body-oriented therapy – emotional blocks come out, – I sighed with the air of a bored pro.

– Yes, it looks like it…

– Perhaps you will master this specialty too? Very helpful.

– Maybe … – Lisa put the glass in the sink. – Well, I have to go. By the way, do you remember we are going to the theater tonight? I won’t get home in time. Maybe you can come and pick me up after the practice?

– Of course! – Not that I really wanted to go to the theater. But then, at least tonight we will be together.

*

I arrived about five minutes before the end of the class.

There was no one in the hallway of the wellness center. The door to the gym was ajar, and from there came the mournful sounds of their favorite meditation music. Of course, I could not resist and looked into the gap that was kindly provided.

Just at that moment, Lisa approached Nina to correct her posture. She bent over her from above – it seemed to me that she just lay down on her, covered her with herself like a shape of the correct posture, forcing Nina to take it.

I closed my eyes. I opened my eyes again, but nothing changed. I noticed the fright in Nina’s eyes, but she almost immediately closed them, and only her chest rose and fell. And they were both breathing in unison.

I felt that I urgently needed something to drink. At least – water.

Looking around, I found a table in the corner by the window with plastic cups on it, and a big bottle of water next to it.

Putting my cup in, I opened the faucet. My hands and knees were trembling, and before my eyes there was the scene I had just seen. I didn’t notice how the water overflowed and rushed onto my shoes.

Damn you! I quickly turned the tap off. But it didn’t work! Broken, or what? There was already quite a puddle on the floor, and water was flowing in a stream along the wall.

Then it dawned on me.

I grabbed the plastic glasses and started filling them one by one. But they soon ended, and the water was still above the tap. Desperately, I put my palms folded in a ladle under the stream. Water poured over the edge. Idiot. Aquarius, indeed! In complete prostration, I bent down and splashed this water in my face.

I was caught washing under this improvised washstand.

– Henry! What happened? What are you doing? – Lisa ran up to me with a towel on her shoulder.

– The thing is broken. – I dried myself with her towel. – But I made you all a glass! – And with a broad gesture I showed the table full of plastic cups…

*

As we came out of the theatre into the night street after the performance, I breathed in the spring night air with my whole chest and exhaled the theatrical impressions I had just received without regret.

There was a kind of hopelessness in the fact that the modern play we watched was full of eternal Shakespearean seething passions.

– Let’s take a walk, – I suggested, – such wonderful weather!

– Come on.

We walked along the boulevard alley – under the starry spring sky. As in our youth… God, why doesn’t a person change at all? Why does the soul live its own life, separate from ours? Why is nature so beautiful and cruel in its constancy? And where can one get non-trivial words to express it for the hundred millionth time.

– A ridiculous play, – I ventured to break the silence.

– Yeah… Why are men so jealous? After all, this one – her husband – had no reason for jealousy. – Lisa put her head on my shoulder.

– And women? Aren’t they? But this one really reacted inadequately.

– And overacted too. I mean the actor.

– Yes, too hysterical…

I was ready to agree with everything, just to walk like this, embracing, for an infinitely long time.

– Look, did it ever occur to you, – I suddenly said, unexpectedly for myself, – that some of your

«girls» might feel… um… well, let’s say… excitement when you cuddle… that is, touch them?

– What? – Liza almost choked with laughter and stared at me in amazement.

– Well, I mean… without wanting to? I’m just wondering if you’ve noticed anything like this? – I was not glad myself to have blurted it out without thinking, and now couldn’t get out of it.

– No. I don’t understand what you’re talking about at all.

She was being defensive. And she perfectly understood everything.

– And if one of them falls in love with you, what will you do? Do you know how to behave?

– Fall in love? Why on earth?

– Clients often fall in love with their therapists. And we are ready for this. This is called «transfer». And we know how to deal with it. But this can happen in your practice too.

Lisa shrugged her shoulders.

– I don’t know what you’re driving at. Do you mean anyone in particular?

– No, just generally speaking.

*

At the next session with Nina, I tried to approach the question of love again.

– So why, after all, you cannot let yourself love the one you love?

She looked tense and tired again. I sounded like an interrogator, and I felt ashamed.

– Because it is prohibited.

– By whom? Your parents? Society?

– Everyone.

– Is it because he is married?

– That, too.

– In that case, it could be considered forbidden, say, to take him away from the family or make love to him. But loving him is not forbidden!

– Prohibited. And the Bible says that you can’t even want what is not yours.

– You said you were not religious.

– Yes, but I read the Bible.

Fair point. Well, what to do? I was silent.

– Besides, I don’t want him. Ah… I want …her.

A dumb show. And she looked me straight in the eye. Bravo, bravo. The act drop.

I pulled myself together.

– Well… Now this is a real breakthrough. Thanks for a good session.

At this point, I could not say with certainty who I felt sorry for – her or myself.

*

A couple of weeks later, when Lisa and I were packing suitcases before going to Germany for a conference – we were planning on having a holiday there at the same time – Lisa said suddenly:

– You know, I invited Nina to stay at our place while we are away.

– What? – I was stunned.

– The owner of her rented apartment said that she would have to move out, as their circumstances had changed. And while she is looking for another one, I thought that she could live here. There will be someone to look after the house, water the flowers. Everything will be fine. You don’t mind, do you?

I was beside myself with fury.

– Of course I mind! There’s no way she can live in my house, because she is my client! You haven’t thought about that?! – I almost screamed.

– Calm down, please! There’s no need to dramatize. You won’t be here. For two whole weeks the house will be empty. And she needs help – she needs to stay somewhere. We won’t lose anything. Plus, we need someone we trust to look after the house.

– Do you trust her? – My bitter sarcasm was hard to miss.

– Yes, don’t you? – She looked at me intensely.

I was embarrassed. What objections could I raise?

– Okay, – I waved my hand, – let it be so. Let’s go…

I didn’t have real proof yet.

Proof of what? I wish I knew it myself.

*

We had a great time in Germany – having done the work part we relaxed and enjoyed ourselves – slept late, took long walks, did some sightseeing, explored several art-galleries and churches, tried local food. Lisa called home only once – just before leaving.

I heard all the affectionate names she called Nina – there were «darling» and «sweetie», and «baby», and, of course, «kiss you». But that didn’t mean much – it’s her usual habit to darling everyone.

*

Nina met us on the doorstep when we arrived:

– Welcome! Welcome home! How was the trip?

Lisa threw her bag on the floor and they kissed.

– Everything was wonderful! But home is best! – Lisa winked at me. – Especially when you are so much awaited and welcomed at home.

I greeted Nina by the hand and asked politely how she had been doing there.

– Oh, great! A resort, really. I read away – you have such a wonderful library!

– I take your word for it. I haven’t read one third of it yet.

– There is breakfast and an apple pie in the kitchen. I must get going. Thank you for hosting me.

– And you won’t have breakfast with us? – Lisa was upset that she was leaving.

– No, sorry, I can’t. I am already late! I’ll come back only in the evening. She glanced apprehensively at me. – I just wanted to meet you and say hello.

– Well, have a good day!

– Has she found a new apartment yet? – I asked Lisa as soon as the door closed behind Nina.

– Yes, she has, but it will be possible to move there only in a week. So she will stay with us for a few days.

– No, it’s just …impossible! This is nonsense!

– Don’t worry so much. It’s not for long. She is very pleasant to talk to. And she is a good company for me.

– But she can’t be your friend! She’s fifteen years younger than you!

– So what? The main thing is that we are like-minded people.

– Yeah, of course. I know her thoughts better than you do!

– Yes, to hell with her thoughts. I just like her.

– You like her?

– Yes. She is funny.

– Ha-ha. Funny. And what’s so funny about her?

– She thinks and reasons so maturely and profoundly, with such a wise sophisticated look. And yet she is quite a child – so naïve and… pure. – Lisa smiled so dreamily that everything inside me went cold.

– How can a woman of thirty be a child and -«pure»? Or do you mean she’s a virgin? Rather, an old maid, a spinster! – I was already saying something completely indecent.

– I don’t know. I don’t think she’s a virgin. But purity has nothing to do with it. It is either there or not.

– Well, that’s enough! I am tired of this! I don’t want strangers in the house! Maybe I want to walk around the house naked?

– You do? – She looked at me with interest. – Why don’t we go naked around here together?

And Lisa began to unbutton my shirt.

God, what is she doing to me!

*

So, the three of us had to live together for a week.

During the day it was alright – everyone was busy with their own business. And in the mornings, Nina slipped silently through the bathroom and the kitchen in an unknown direction, leaving no traces. But in the evenings…

In the evenings, they sometimes had tea in the kitchen, chatted and laughed, then went for a walk around the neighborhood, then fiddled in the garden together.

They didn’t mind my presence, but they didn’t invite me to join them either. And I felt that they were better off without me.

I tried not to sulk and even to be friendly, but I was terribly jealous. I was afraid to fall asleep at night – I dreamed that Lisa would slowly slip out of bed and into the next bedroom.

And one day – it was already rather dark – not finding them in the house, I went out onto the veranda and saw that they were sitting in a hammock in the garden, wrapped in a blanket, and looking at the stars.

I almost howled at the moon. Which, by the way, hung right there – over the house, and it was full, of course, and so was I. «It is not a coincidence that all witches’ Sabbaths take place at the full moon! What is going on, eh?!» But, strangely enough, the longer I looked at their quiet swaying in the hammock, at the quiet garden, at the soft moonlight, the calmer my soul became. I felt if not reconciled, then pacified and overcome by humility.

*

I couldn’t imagine what would happen the next day! When I came out of my study after work, I saw Nina, sitting at the kitchen table, writing something. At the first glance, she seemed lost in thought, but there was something strange about her that caught my attention.

I suddenly realized that she was listening intently. Then I heard the sound of running water, splashing and muffled singing. It turned out it was coming from the open bathroom door.

I rushed there and froze on the threshold: Lisa was lying in a foaming bath with a book in her hand and purring a song.

– What are you doing, for heaven’s sake?! – I hissed at her in a terrible whisper.

– Can’t you see? – She began to rise from the foam, smiling seductively. – I am being born, like Aphrodite.

– Oh, Lord, Lisa, could you at least close the door?

– You know, it’s pretty stuffy in here.

– Ah, I see. – I had to leave, what could I do? I decided not to go far and sat down on the sofa in the living room, burying myself in an old magazine. From there I could see the corridor leading to the kitchen and the bathroom door.

– Nina, honey, could you bring me the towel, please! I forgot it in the kitchen on the radiator! – Lisa’s voice rang in my ears like a sudden shot.

I was about to jump up to bring her the towel myself, but Nina was already standing in the doorway with it. She handed the towel to Lisa, trying not to look at her, but I saw that she was about to faint and could hardly catch her breath. Then I heard clinking of cups from the kitchen – probably, she was pouring herself some water.

After a couple of minutes, Lisa came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.

I hid behind the door and watched – sank down to the bottom completely.

Lisa put a glass on the table and was pouring juice from a bottle into it with one hand, and with the other she was gently tickling Nina’s neck and the back of her head, at the same time trying to see what she was writing there, but Nina covered the sheet with her hand.

An orange stream of juice overflowed and spilled onto the table. They both screamed. Lisa began to wipe the puddle with the edge of her towel. And, of course, it immediately fell down from her chest to the waist – here she managed to grab it. Nina closed her eyes. And Lisa, as if nothing had happened, wrapped herself in the towel again, patted Nina on the back of the neck, took her glass and calmly walked in my direction.

I hurriedly retreated.

*

When we were already in bed, before putting out the lamp, I decided to talk to Lisa.

She was painting her nails – dark burgundy color of a bitten cherry. Then she blew lightly on the lacquered cherries at her fingertips and shook her hands – like branches in the wind – to dry them.

– You are playing with fire.

– Mm? She twirled the little bottle and turned to me.

– Please, tell Nina to move out. The sooner the better.

– Why?

– You are provoking her. You’re teasing her.

– ?

– Do you still remember what «projection» or «transfer» is?

– Well, when someone transfers, projects their feelings for their parents onto other people?

– Yes. Bosses, lovers, teachers, therapists… What is happening here now can really hinder or even ruin her whole therapy!

– And, in my opinion, on the contrary – it only contributes to her therapy, strengthens and accelerates all processes. – Lisa turned off her lamp and leaned back on the pillow, raising her hands above her head.

– I can’t believe it! Did you do all this on purpose?

– What? What is it?

– You were seducing her! You’re playing with the girl like a cat with a mouse! Can’t you see that she’s already… melting with desire?! She simply melts when you touch her, hug her, kiss her!

Lisa was dumbfounded by my onslaught, but she recovered quickly and launched a counterattack:

– Are you completely out of your mind? This is all a figment of your dirty imagination! There is nothing of the kind! What’s your problem? Why are you so paranoid? – She got up, went to the chest of drawers and stood there for a long time rummaging in the top drawer. Finally, she took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. After lighting a cigarette, she sat down on the bed, throwing the thing that kills a horse beside her.

I also took a cigarette and lit it.

– Since when do we smoke? And in bed, too? – Liza put out her cigarette.

– Since you brought another woman into our bed!

– Nonsense. I didn’t bring anyone.

– But you want to!

– Henry! Stop this nightmare! – She wearily turned away and pulled the blanket over her head.

*

In the morning I went out onto the lawn. It wasn’t hot yet. Lisa was walking towards the house wearing a tracksuit and carrying a rug in her hand.

– Were you exercising?

– Yes. Yoga is a hundred times healthier outdoors.

– Yeah.

I almost envied her and even wondered if I should take up a sport too.

Nina was sitting by the pool in a meditative position. She hadn’t noticed me yet, and I was looking at her from afar for a while. A young attractive woman. Smart. I used to like her so much. But at the moment I was too angry with her and Lisa, for the fact that they put me in such an awkward position that I felt out of place both at home and in the office.

Hmm. They put me in this position. Did they really? This thought slowed me down.

What if all this is my perverted imagination? And did I project my feelings onto them? I felt uncomfortable with this turn. Perhaps it’s time for me to go to the supervisor myself. It seemed that I really got stuck up to my ears in my own process.

Passing Nina, I greeted her and I went further into the garden without stopping. But after a minute I heard Lisa’s voice and turned around.

She stood at the edge of the pool in a colorful terry bathrobe.

– Well, how’s the water? Is it cold? – Lisa touched the water with her foot. – Eh, nice!

Nina also leaned towards the water.

– Brr. Too cold.

Lisa dropped her robe. And I was stunned. There was nothing under the robe. Well, apart from herself, of course.

Nina raised her head and saw the naked Liza in front of her. She looked stupefied, backed up awkwardly and fell – right into the pool. Lisa immediately dived after her.

I rushed to the rescue.

– Are you alright there?

The scene I saw was quite amusing: Nina was pressed against the side, gasping, and Lisa was splashing water on the poor girl with all her might, diving and grabbing her knees.

She was making me angry on purpose.

– Am I dreaming, or do we have a mermaid here? Or am I suddenly hitting a nude beach? – I could only joke.

– You are dreaming! – They continued their mermaid games.

– Wake me up!!!

Finally, Nina managed to escape and she got out of the pool.

– I’ll go… drink some water … – She was obviously fleeing.

– You haven’t had enough water yet?

I just couldn’t help it.

*

I had a dream that night. I dreamed… well, yes – that they were making love. I didn’t even see it so much as I felt it. And, I must say, it was nice.

The frolicking mermaids turned the sea waters into golden sparkling champagne that was foaming and gently tickling my whole body. I felt that I was dissolving in these waves of bliss that were rocking me, lulling me…

When I woke up, I felt relaxed and languid. Yet the ambiguous images and meanings of this dream greatly confused me. Moreover, they were not just images!

*

I rummaged through a bunch of books, thematic Internet resources. But nothing satisfied me. The essence of these mysterious feelings and relationships between women remained a mystery to me.

On the margins of the next conference, I raised this topic in a conversation with a colleague. We were friends, so the conversation was casual:

– Listen, have you ever met lesbian or bisexual women in your practice or just in life?

– And what are they to you?

– Well, it would be nice to know what to do with them.

– Ha. You don’t have to do anything with them. It is best to leave them alone.

– It’s easy to say…

– A client?

– Yes, there is one…

– Perhaps, it would be better for her to go to a woman therapist. One can’t tell heads or tails there. It all is such a mess. And these labels do not mean or explain anything. As always, they label what is beyond them.

It didn’t help much, so I decided to talk to one of my female colleagues. What I heard was really basic, and I was surprised I had never considered it before.

Firstly, this is usually innate, some people are just born homosexual and can’t fight it, even if they try. If we still venture to explain it from the psychological angle – both women, even if one is older and the other is younger, initially badly needed and still need – physically and emotionally – maternal love, closeness and protection. And thus they compensate each other for this shortage.

Secondly, like attracts the like, and two women feel safe together, in their element. It is easy for them to understand each other’s needs without words. They also enjoy the fact that they can look at each other like in a mirror and find so many similarities. That’s where the ecstasy and joy of recognition happens!

And there is no age barrier – an older woman perceives herself to be as young as her «girlfriend», while having many of the advantages of an experienced woman.

Thirdly, they strive for such a relationship in search of tenderness, gentleness. Only a woman can be so gentle. And when there are two…

And, finally, most women might have experienced similar feelings in their lives. But very few of the «normal» people acted on it, because they frighten with their power, are taboo and condemned by society.

One lady colleague said she had recently read a book – one of the kind «what men want», where it was stated that one hundred percent of the time men think about sex – at least in the background of their consciousness. The same might be true about women, though, she said – women are much more about sex than men, they are simply made of this energy. But they are forbidden to think about it. There were times when men burned them at the stake for that and subjected them to terrible tortures. Since then, considering themselves sinful through and through, women are tense and frightened. This makes things worse for men as well.

It was strange that despite the obviousness of the facts, I had never seriously thought about it.

So, is everything clear?

But what should a man do? Just step aside and wait for them?… What if it takes them too long? And then it will turn out that the man is no longer needed. They have given birth to children, some have already raised theirs. They earn money themselves. God save us…