by Paloma Meir
The men on the other hand were always overly interested in me. Touching my face while speaking to me if Paolo wasn’t paying attention. Adjusting their legs and looking up at me with winks. When I had first moved here I found it a little frightening, then annoying, now as the men grew older amusing. They meant no harm. I wondered if their lecherous ways worked on other woman.
I asked Silviana about it once and she told me her generation, which was also my generation, easy to forget because I spent most of my free time with Paolo’s friends, had grown tired of the predatory ways of the older men. She would raise her eyebrow and say the younger men were much better. I sensed she didn’t approve of my relationship with Paolo.
Astrid helped me get ready for the party. I had kept Astrid. Paolo thought we should switch to a traditional nanny because Astrid’s services were designed for the short term and were extremely expensive. Paolo wouldn’t pay for her anymore. That was fine. I had my trust I didn’t use very often. I knew my father would want me splurge that way. I never really understood why Paolo didn’t like me to spend my money on our lifestyle. He was financially comfortable, but I was loaded with cash. Danny had been the same way. I would just be happy I wasn’t the target of gold diggers in the way it would happen to Theodora and Veronica.
Louisa started walking three days before her first birthday, a milestone I celebrated with a touch of sadness. I wouldn’t be able to wrap her to my chest much longer. She toddled around the fenced in rooftop helping Astrid, the caterers and myself set up the dining area. The rose vine wall woven by an artisan I met at the florist’s created a festive feel. The Cava would flow, a selection of Tapas including Louisa’s favorite, Patatas Bravas. She loved her spicy potatoes.
I carried her downstairs to my room to put her down for a nap before the party began. I wanted her to be rested enough to enjoy the festivities. I lay down next to my sleepy darling and sang her a lullaby in English as she drifted off to sleep. I watched her for a bit before getting up and going into the living room to check on Paolo.
He was stretched out on the sofa reading a book. In his mind parties were women’s work. That was fine with me. I wouldn’t want him interfering with my vision. I sat down next to him and kissed his ear, wrapping my arms around him.
“Louisa’s asleep on our bed. Shall we run over to my studio for a quiet moment before the party begins?” I asked.
“We don’t have much time before the guests arrive.” He put his hand up my skirt and rubbed my hip. “Let Louisa sleep in her bed tonight.” We had fallen into the habit of going to the office in my studio for our physical affections, which had become fewer and fewer.
“She’s just a baby. I couldn’t do that to her. It’s easier with the feeding.”
“You said you would start weaning her this week.” He put his fingers under the band of my underwear. “I want you in our bed again.”
“I’ll start tomorrow. Come with me Paolo. I want more babies.” I ran my hand through his thick black hair pulling it in the way he liked it.
“Zelda...” He stood up, taking my hand and pulled me to my feet.
…
Louisa sat on my lap at the big table. We wore our matching white silk dresses that had been adorned with multi-colored chiffon roses. Paolo sat next to me kissing my shoulder every so often. Our affection renewed from our time together on the pillows of my office floor.
I put Louisa down so she could show off her new walking skills. She walked in her unsteady way taking in the encouragement of our guests. Silviana stood up to dance with her. Louisa bounced up and down clapping her hands to the music of the band that played. Her little blond head of hair flew around like angel wings. The music stopped, and she fell on her bottom letting out a cry. I stood up to retrieve her but was held back by Paolo who went to her pick her up. He sang an old Spanish song he liked to sing to her. He brought her back to the table, kissing her nose and telling her she would be all right.
Louisa buried her face in his chest and popped up with a big smile. Paolo held her up high above him, continuing the song he had been singing. Louisa squealed with happiness, her head pointed up to the sky.
We saw it at the same time. Her chubby face looking upward, accentuating her jaw, a very square jaw, so different from our oval faces. The white skin, so much whiter than mine had ever been. The red lips, ours being pinkish, the blond hair that wasn’t darkening. The bright blue eyes when both of us had dark eyes.
I remembered learning in high school about the recessive genes of blue eyes. My father had blue eyes. That was it on my side and no blue eyes from the beginning of time for Paolo. I had always known this. Why had it slipped from my mind? I reached out to take Louisa from him. He held her up and away from me staring at her.
“You cuckold me Zelda.” He lowered Louisa and held her in front of him, still looking at her. He kissed her on the forehead and handed her over to me.
“Paolo...”
“Take her downstairs and stay with her.” In shock I stood up and carried Louisa downstairs to my bedroom. Astrid followed behind me.
I held Louisa on my lap looking at her, seeing her for the first time. She was Danny. I knew his face as well as I knew my own. How could I have not had seen him in her? She had the strong jaw line I always loved, the blue eyes that were my obsession for so many years. I looked at the shape of her body. She was still a baby and Danny and I had similar body types, long and thin. I would give myself a pass on that, the face though? I had been a fool. The face was pure Danny. I had made a fool of Paolo worst of all.
I cried, understanding the depth of the badness I had caused. I handed Louisa to Astrid and asked her in a mix of broken English and German to take Louisa to her room. She hesitated, not wanting to leave me alone. Our lack of common language had made us more aware of each other’s emotional states. I waved her away, shaking my head to let her know that I would be okay, that I needed time to think.
Alone I lay back on my bed praying to a God that I wasn’t sure existed to make everything all right again. I knew Paolo wouldn’t stay with me. He was a prideful man. What I had done was the deepest blow I could give him. All these years that we loved each other would be over when he came down the stairs, of that I was sure. All of my dreams of our family, dead. I would lose my love, Louisa her true father, and him his faith.
Had I done this on purpose? Had Danny been so deep inside of me that I wanted him to carry on through me, through Louisa? Birth control had not entered my mind. I went to him with a fantasy and a desire to seduce him. I never thought that he would fall into me again. Forget about his bizarre proclamations of love.
If it was what I wanted on some unfathomable unconscious level why hadn’t I stayed with him? It was what he wanted. I thought of him as mindless adolescent playing in his ocean with his toys drifting around doing nothing of importance. The ambitious boy in him was long gone. His conviction in wanting me to stay was surprising and unwanted, and really far too easy. The boy he had been wouldn’t have let me go. Or he would have followed me back to Madrid, worn me down until I was his again.
I would have to tell Danny but to tell him would be to invite him into our lives. Did I want such a boy/man to be a father to Louisa? Would he want that? What kind of role model would he be to our daughter? I wanted her to live a cultured life, not spend weekends with the brain dead citizens of his falsely glittering beach community. Would it even be fair to him to heap an unasked for child into his life? He hadn’t made that choice.
No, I would tell him however hard that would be. I did love him. I always had and I always would, and with that came a promise of honesty. I could never lie to him. I could never withhold Louisa from him. All that love but no desire to spend my life with him. How things had changed, and so long ago that change had happened. My fifteen year old self wanted to slap the aged twenty-seven year old me.
Selfish tears fell from my eyes. I was stuck in thoughts of Danny and mourning my life, not giving a thought to Paolo. My mind w
ent blank as I considered what his future would be. The ugly deserved things he would say to me when the party was over. I wondered how he was able to stay with his friends upstairs knowing the truth about what I had done. He would be downstairs soon and our life together would end.
I heard footsteps outside my door. The guests were leaving. I sat up and wiped my tears away. I went to my vanity, brushed my hair and reapplied my lipstick. I owed it to Paolo to behave as maturely as possible. I would be strong and take his words. I would not cry when he left or sent us away. He would want dignity. I would try my best to give him that. I slipped on my oversized olive cashmere cardigan I wore when feeling down. The sweater’s warmth would keep me strong. Its long sleeves something to tug on when the words stung.
The door opened. Paolo rushed past me and reached under the bed for his overnight bag. He did not look up. He did not speak to me. I watched him go to his drawers and pull out socks and shirts, mindlessly stuffing them into his bag. Would he leave without talking to me? Fear held my voice in my throat. I pushed through it mangling the hem of my sweater in the process.
“Paolo, speak to me, please.” I hesitated not knowing the words to apologize for such an ugly act of deception. “I didn’t know.”
“I’ll be gone a week. Do not be here when I get back.” He looked over at me, his face a mask of pain, every year and more showing through the crinkle of his eyes, the sagging of cheeks.
“Paolo, please we can work this out. You love me. You love Louisa. We love you. We can have other children, our children. Louisa is yours in our hearts.”
“Don’t make me say things that you don’t want to hear. You have one week to pack and be gone. Go back to America. Find her father if you can remember who that would be.”
“You’re her father. It was one time, that’s all. I meant to tell you. I was so tired when I came home from Los Angeles. It was just once. Forgive me. We’ve been so happy all these years. Please Paolo I love you. Please. I don’t want to be without you. Louisa needs you.” I reached out to touch him. He swatted me away.
“You break me. Go away. Take your bastard baby and go.”
“No Paolo.” I screamed, “We can make this work. You can forgive me. You love me Paolo.”
“You’re a sex toy, nothing more. Why I kept you around all these years I don’t know.” He had hate in his eyes. “Even with you here ready at any moment to take me into your polluted canal I still needed other woman. You were never enough. You’re nothing Zelda. A sex doll, that’s all you’ll ever be. You have nothing else to offer. Pack your things and leave.”
“You don’t mean that Paolo. You love me. I did something horrible. You will forgive me.”
“When you speak with my friends I feel embarrassment at the stupidity of your ideas, your affectations. Thoughts of your uninhibited sexuality kept me with you. Knowing you to be a lying whore changes that. You sicken me. Find someone else to raise your daughter before she becomes like you.”
“You don’t mean these things. I can forget them. You can forget my deceit. I didn’t know until today. You have to believe me Paolo. I love you. We have been so happy. You love Louisa.”
“Stupid, stupid girl that will never be a real woman. I was swept away by the attentions of schoolgirl. Thirty-nine was too old to be with, what were you? Nineteen? Twenty? Six years of my life wasted on nothing, on trash. I’ve paid for that now. I’m leaving Zelda. Be gone.”
I threw myself at him trying to hug him, crying. He threw me off of him. I landed on the floor sprawled out. He looked down at me.
“If you lay like that for long enough somebody else will come along to fuck you. I say a prayer for that man.”
He gathered up his bags and left.
I stayed on the floor, looking up at the high ceilings cursing myself for not having dignity, for saying all the wrong things. I did not consider his words. They were full of hate, a well-deserved hate. I hoped it would heal him. I may have lost Paolo, but he was losing both of us. His pain would be greater. He would have shame. All the memories of our beautiful life together would have a dark cast through his eyes.
I sat up, my body in pain from the finality of it all. I would leave the next day. I wouldn’t keep him out of his home for a week. I couldn’t go back to Los Angeles, to my family as a wreck. I would go to Paris. I would rebuild myself in the city I had always loved, the city I had always wanted to live in.
I looked around our room, nothing, there was nothing I wanted to take. I walked to the living room, the study, through the kitchen, upstairs to the roof. Nothing. I would walk away, leave everything behind. I would take a few Louisa’s things. I could shop in Paris. I would regroup in the city of lights.
I thought of Silviana and my business. I would call my lawyer in the morning and transfer it to her. I would never want to make my scarves again. Silviana would be better at the business end. She always complained about my wastefulness, running it out of an expensive building in an expensive area. My never wanting it to grow beyond what we could do together. I hadn’t cared. The business had been a part of my life, not my life. Silviana had always wanted it to make it her center. She was an ambitious woman. I had held her back.
My heart held a deeper ache with thoughts of missing her. I would never come back to Madrid. The city that I loved would be gone from my life. My sofa I would leave behind, my kitchen with the ancient stove. I walked through my home touching everything saying good-bye.
I would pack one bag for myself some items of clothing I could never part with and that would be it. I would have Silviana take my other clothes, which would fill dozens of boxes, to the women’s center across the city. I would have Louisa's furnishings donated to World Vision. They always seemed to be doing good works.
I sat down on my sofa and pulled the striped cashmere blanket over my legs and wrote a list of everything I would need to do in order to take the night train the next day from Madrid to Paris. I fell asleep with the pen in my hand.
I woke up at dawn, which in Spain was 8:30. I would miss the late start to the days, the naps, the late dinners. Madrid suited me. I tried to be mindful of everything, taking it in for the last time. In my shower I touched the tile walls to say good-bye. The aged wainscoting I would never see again brought tears to my eyes. I pushed Paolo out of my mind. I would fall apart the next day in the comfort of my suite at the George V in Paris. I would go through the day only thinking of my list.
I got on my computer while my coffee brewed and booked The French suite for a month. The price for the stay would be more than I had spent in all the year before. I contacted a shipping service to come and box up Louisa’s things and store them in Paris until I figured out what my plan was going to be. I booked the overnight train tickets. I did all of this assuming Astrid would come with us. My plan would fall apart if she would not join us. I would double her salary if it came to that. What sports metaphor had Danny always liked? Go big or go home. I would go big because I didn’t have a home anymore.
Louisa ran into the living room and jumped into my arms. Astrid followed closely behind her. She picked up my coffee cup raising her eyebrows, her way of asking if I wanted a refill. I nodded yes and opened the language translation webpage we used when we had to communicate complicated instructions to each other. I gave her the barest bones of the story, not mentioning my beautiful Louisa’s parentage.
As I typed I knew that she knew. She had always known. The thought brought me shame. How many people saw what so plainly in front of them? How had Paolo, and I been so blind? Was he as complicit as myself in wanting to believe the dream? I hugged my sweet girl tighter. She raised her hand to wipe my tears away speaking a mix of Spanish sounds. She would never learn the language of her homeland now. Paolo would never be with us to teach her. The thought shook me physically. I feared I would pass out. Taking a deep breath I went back to my list. There wasn’t that much on it considering I was cutting ties to almost seven years of my life.
I handed the lap
top to Astrid. She read my message as I sipped the dark coffee I would never drink again. I knew to get through my list I would have to stop mourning every aspect of the day. I clutched the paper that would lead me out of my home as if it were a bible. The list, only the list I said to myself over and over again.
“Vater?” she asked.
“No drei” I pointed at us, drei being German for three. I would send her to an English language class when we arrived in Paris. She nodded her head.
“Ja” she said
“Das gepack Louisa?” I think I asked her to pack up Louisa’s room. Unsure I typed out a lengthy request in how I wanted her things packed. She nodded her head and took Louisa to the kitchen to make her last breakfast in the only home she had ever known. I squeezed my list hoping it would dispel my dramatic thoughts.
I put on my robe and took my coffee to my studio. Silviana wasn’t in yet. I took my favorite armchair and moved it to the center of the room and sat down, taking in my final moments of the work I loved. I wondered where I would eventually settle, what I would do. I wished I could take Silviana with me, create a ragtag group of woman to roam the world.
