Beginner's Greek

by James Collins

  The kitchen had strong recessed floodlights, stainless-steel and glossy white surfaces. Julia and Dick sat on hard, highly designed metal kitchen chairs. On this morning, all this made Julia uneasy. She felt vulnerable to scrutiny, and she wished she were in a dark room lying on cushions. All the everyday objects in the room — the toaster, the microwave, the canisters, the breadbox — seemed to be lit as lavishly as a car in a magazine ad, and to Julia they seemed almost alive. From this day forward, her life was going to change irrevocably. How could the breadbox be the same old breadbox? Her state cast a transformative spell on everything around her. Then she refocused her sight, and she could see that of course the breadbox was the same inert object, with a dent in one corner, that it had always been. This was a normal morning in her kitchen. Neither the toaster nor the microwave was responding to her crisis. The hanging spatulas remained insensate and uncaring. Kept in ignorance, so, naturally, did Dick. He had pushed his chair away from the table; his half-glasses had slipped down his nose, giving him an imperious expression as he read his paper. Without taking his eyes off the page, he took sips of his coffee, scratched his ankle.

  Then Dick went off to change and emerged in all his gleaming glory.

  “Good-bye, darling,” Julia said. “Have fun slaying those dragons.”

  “Ha!” said Dick, smiling. “Those dragons are getting younger and faster, damn them.” As he checked himself one more time in the hall mirror, he asked, “What are your plans for today?”

  “Ellen wants me to come with her to look at some chairs that she’s thinking of buying.”

  “What’s she gotten onto now?”

  “Second Empire.”

  “Really? How odd.” Dick patted his tie and turned to Julia. “Well,” he continued lightheartedly, but with the edge of giving an order, “don’t bring your checkbook.”

  “No.”

  “Q3 next year, darling, Q3.”

  “Yes.”

  Julia offered her cheek and Dick kissed it. Then, after stepping back, he appraised her.

  “You know,” he said, “you are looking extraordinarily pretty today.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  “In fact, you’ve been looking extraordinarily pretty for some time now.”

  “Thanks for waiting so long before telling me.”

  “Guilty as charged. Anyway, you’re beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, so long.” Dick had already opened the front door when he turned back with an expression of discomfort. “Oh, and you won’t forget, tonight —”

  “It’s in my book.” This was a dinner that both acknowledged Julia would find extremely tedious.

  “Terrific. Well — bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Dick gave a little wave as he closed the door behind him. Julia looked at the door. She closed her eyes for a moment, then she went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed, crying quietly for a few minutes. Then she found her joy and excitement almost unbearable. She bathed. Afterward, as one who believed in grooming, she brushed her hair and applied her makeup with care. She put on a blouse, skirt, shoes, and stockings that she might wear if she were having lunch with a friend. With her watch and her pin and her earrings all in place, she checked herself in a mirror and lightly smoothed her skirt and hair. She went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water from the tap. Then she went into the library. Here the lights and colors were muted and the upholstery soft. She sat in the large armchair that she used for reading and put the glass of water down on a coaster on the adjacent side table, next to a couple of books. Where had she left off . . . ? Oh, that terrible Irishman’s note had come due. But she didn’t pick up a book. Loosely clasped, her hands lay in her lap. She sat, and she watched a shadow move across the opposite bookcase. The hours passed. At about four o’clock, she made herself a cup of tea and drank it back at her place in the library. She sat in dimness for a while. Then it was time to get ready for dinner.

  The moment of truth, literally, came three weeks later, when, having put it off as long as she could, she had to tell everyone what was up. She sat Dick down in their living room and told him that she had some news to give him, and that it was going to be a little awkward.

  Dick looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s have it.”

  Julia took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m going to have a baby.”

  Dick looked stunned and didn’t say anything. Then he burst out laughing. “Oh, Julia, come on! You’re going to have a baby? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t be serious.”

  As evenly as she could, Julia said, “I am serious. I’m pregnant, and I want to have the baby.”

  “My God! You must have gone out of your mind!”

  Julia didn’t respond.

  “It’s my understanding,” said Dick, “that in these cases there are usually two parties involved. Or did you go with the turkey baster?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. So then would you care to tell me who might the father be?”

  “No.”

  “No? No? You mean it’s some kind of secret? Everybody’s going to know eventually, aren’t they? Doesn’t Dad want to be ‘involved’ ” — this word said very sarcastically — “with the child, change its diapers, play peekaboo? Or was this a one-off where you didn’t happen to get the fellow’s name?”

  Julia had vowed, she had sworn, she had taken a mortal oath before God that she would not cry. But now the tears were coming, and her eyes blurred. “He’s dead,” she said.

  Dick threw up his hands. “He’s dead! Oh, how convenient.”

  “I would say it was quite inconvenient for him, and for the people close to him. You don’t really think that I would lie about that, do you? The fact is that he’s dead. He wasn’t anyone you knew, or anyone whom anyone you know knew.” Julia could not keep herself from sniffling. “He’s dead. He died.”

  “I guess he died for you,” Dick said. “I suppose he died of a broken heart.”

  “No,” Julia said. “He . . . he got sick —”

  “And what about you?” Dick asked. “Was he the man of your dreams? Did your feelings run oh so very deep? Did the earth move?”

  Julia looked down for a moment. “I —” she said, and then stopped. “Yes.” She swallowed. “Yes,” she said softly, “I did love him.” And now she began to cry outright.

  Confronted with that word and with a pregnant woman in tears who has suffered the death of her beloved, Dick could do nothing but remain silent. He got up and fixed himself a bourbon and sipped it while looking at Julia, who was now crying silently. This seemed to go on for a long time. Then Dick came over and sat next to her on the sofa. He put his hand on her shoulder and rested it there for a moment. Then he spoke in a quiet, even gentle, tone.

  “Look, Julia,” he said, “as you can imagine, this is a difficult piece of information to absorb. I don’t know what to say or what to think. I’ve never . . . well, I’ve never exactly believed that people should never fall in love again or never act on a desire once they’re married. I was going to say ‘just because’ they’re married. That wouldn’t accurately reflect my respect for the institution.” He gave a breathy, tentative laugh. “Anyway, I can see how something like this happens. Especially with a beautiful woman like you, and especially when she’s stuck with some decrepit old guy. The heart is — well, I guess nobody has ever quite figured that out. I know it is very powerful. Look at us when we began. It’s very powerful. But the point is, I can understand how something like this happens.” He waited a moment before asking a delicate question: “Is it too late to . . . to take care of the problem?”

  “I don’t want to!” Julia said this forcefully but in a whisper. She would not look at him.

  “I understand, I understand,” said Dick. He waited a moment before asking, “How far along are you?”

  “Almost four months.”

  “You’ve seen a doctor and all
that?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And everything —”

  “Everything is fine.”

  “Good, good,” said Dick. “And, do you know . . . have they told you whether it’s a — ?”

  “It’s a boy.”

  “A boy! Well, now, a boy . . .” His voice trailed off. He shook his head and spread open his palms. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I’m having a hard time. It’s hard to believe.” He continued shaking his head for a moment and then asked, “What are you planning to do?”

  Julia collected herself. “Well, first of all,” she said, “I’m going to go to Anna’s tonight.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to stay at Anna’s for a little while.”

  “Anna’s! She’s barely got space for herself and that psycho kid of hers!”

  “It’ll be okay. I’ll come over sometime in the next few days. Anna and I will come over and get my things. Then in a couple of weeks, I want to go to France before coming back here and having the baby.”

  There was a pause as Dick regarded her. “I suppose,” he said, “you assumed I would throw you out.”

  “No, no,” said Julia. “But I guess I thought it would be awkward, which hardly describes it. So I’d better be prepared to leave here as soon as I told you. People can have funny reactions to the news that their wife is carrying another man’s child. I thought it would be best to make some arrangements.”

  “I see,” said Dick. He scowled, stood up, and paced back and forth with his drink for a minute. Then he turned to Julia and spoke softly. “And if that weren’t necessary?” he said. “I mean from my point of view?”

  Julia was caught off-guard. “I’m sorry, Dick, what did you say?”

  “I said what if that weren’t necessary, your leaving, from my point of view?”

  Julia didn’t know how to respond.

  Dick started to laugh. “What does it matter? These days people do everything. We can say that you decided you really wanted a baby and I couldn’t provide the goods, so you asked your lesbian lover’s son.” He shook his head. “We can dream up something. Or just tell the truth. People will talk for about five minutes. What do we care? I mean, really?” He stared off into space. “I know we discussed it and it wasn’t something we wanted. But it might be kind of fun having a baby around. I missed most of that the first time around, with the kids. I feel bad about it all.” He sighed, then smiled. “But having a little baby, a little boy, it could be fun. It could be a lot of fun.”

  He turned back to Julia and scratched his cheek.

  “In any event, that’s my proposition. You can stay here and —” He stopped short. “Let me change that. That is my . . . request. I’m asking you to stay.”

  Julia didn’t answer, so Dick spoke again.

  “I’d miss you.” He paused. “I love you.”

  Julia had tried to prepare herself for Dick’s reaction, but this was one she had not been expecting, and she felt at a loss. Maybe it would work? So many of the problems that she was agonizing over would instantly be solved! They could stay where they were, or move into a bigger place. Her son could go to one of the schools nearby. Dick was right that the “scandal” wouldn’t last; if anything, it would give them some cachet, and everyone would make a point of responding with nonjudgmental sophistication. And maybe, maybe having something to do together beyond going out to dinner, especially this thing, would bring out another side of each of them; maybe they would be happier. Maybe Dick would enjoy having a second shot at being a doting father? Think of the alternative! Julia knew she wasn’t cut out to be a heroic “single mom,” and she couldn’t be at all sure how much money she would end up with. By herself, with a child, with no profession — was it realistic to think that she would be content to work as a store clerk or real estate agent and forgo dinners out and new clothes? Anna managed to do it somehow. Anna never had any money and always looked incredible, not chic, but fantastic. But she had that kind of style, and that hippie attitude about comfort. Sitting around with other divorcées complaining about prying money out of their “exes,” having the pizza place on speed dial: it would be horrible. Checking a grocery receipt — Julia had never done that in her life! She could always set about landing another rich man, but that prospect was even more horrible. All these things she had been worrying about lately a million times over — and here was a way out.

  But what was Dick really up to? Was he making a magnanimous offer he knew she would refuse? He would thereby gain the moral and psychological upper hand. And if he was sincere, would his selflessness last till morning, and would he ever allow the child to exist outside his own self-regard? Julia could see it: he’d be the big hero, having rushed into the burning building and saved the mother and infant. He’d use the kid to gain all this glory as someone with a noble, expansive heart, the great Dick Montague, who accepted his wife’s bastard as his own, like some Regency duke. All in great contrast to her perfidy, which he’d never fail to get in a dig about. As soon as he’d achieved that effect, he’d drop the whole thing, except when talking to some friend, whom he’d tell how he’d come to truly love the child, even if it wasn’t his. Dick Montague, quite an extraordinary fellow! By making the child his own, he’d save himself from humiliation. Oh, she could see it. At all the important moments, especially the moments when other people were watching, he would swoop in and take over, but the rest of the time he’d ignore the boy. If anything, he would make sure he suffered. Look how his own children had turned out, and in truth he hadn’t ever regretted his behavior toward them for more than five minutes running. Well, forget it. He wasn’t going to use us — us! us! us! — to serve his vanity!

  But when someone ran into a burning building and saved a mother and infant, even if he did it to be a hero, he still saved the mother and the infant.

  Julia felt as if she were standing on a precipice in high winds. She knew that if she agreed to stay with Dick, she would never leave. She also knew that if she left, the offer would never come again. With all the emotion of the situation and now this unexpected turn, it was so hard to think.

  As she weighed her alternatives, Dick hung fire.

  Finally, she spoke. “I am . . . moved . . . by what you’ve said, Dick, moved by your generosity, and grateful.” She looked at him, and even though she was frightened, and even though she was suspicious, she couldn’t help but look at him with affection. “But I’m sorry. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

  Dick took a deep breath. He nodded and sipped his drink. He sat down. A long time passed before he spoke again, and when he did so, he adopted his lawyer voice. “Very well, then, if that’s your decision, we’ll proceed accordingly. Now, you don’t imagine that I haven’t planned for this eventuality, do you? No prenup. It was so touching, so romantic. Really. My trusting, dewy-eyed bride. I was so very moved. But that didn’t prevent me from making my own preparations. And surely you know that law partnerships have ways to protect their partners’ interests when greedy ex-wives, and, these days, greedy ex-husbands, start making their demands? Moreover, we don’t have no-fault or community property in New York. As I recall quite clearly, the division of property is partly determined by ‘marital fault,’ adultery being the leading example. Finally, there are no children involved — at least, there are no children involved that are both yours and mine — so you lack leverage there. I can make things very, very difficult for you, so I’d advise you not to come at me with a lot of tricks and threats and ultimatums.”

  “Oh, Dick,” Julia said, “how clever of you. Trying to frighten and bluff me before we’ve even begun!”

  Dick looked at her very steadily. “I’m not bluffing,” he said in a stern, hard tone.

  Actually, he had succeeded in spooking Julia, but she was determined not to show it.

  “You see?” She managed to laugh. “That’s what people who are bluffing always say.” She looked back at him as coolly as she could.

&n
bsp; Dick shrugged. He smelled blood, and he was satisfied. “You say that you and Anna will come by at some point to collect your clothes and so forth?”

  “Yes.”

  “When will that be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’d better make it tomorrow. I suggest you take everything you want. What you leave, you will never see again, I assure you.”

  “But, Dick, that’s a lot of stuff —”

  “Hire movers. After tomorrow, I’ll change the locks and give the people in the building orders not to allow you in.”

  “All right.”

  “I assume you have a lawyer?”

  “I’ve talked to someone,” Julia said. “I don’t know if I would call him my lawyer.”

  “I know whom I’ll use. He’ll contact you. Then he and whomever you decide on can take it from there. It should be fairly straight-forward.” Dick stared at Julia, coolly evaluating her. “It’s none of my business,” he said finally, “but I must say, Julia, that I thought better of you. Leaving aside any injury to me, I never would have thought that you would do something so foolish and irresponsible.”

  Julia wanted to make him understand that she knew that what she was doing was right, that she knew it as well as she knew that water was wet (except when she was beset by her own terrible doubts).

  “I’ve thought a lot about my motivation,” she began, but Dick raised his hand.

  “No, no. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. As I say, it’s really none of my business.” He looked at her for a moment or two, like someone appraising an object. Then he stood up. “I imagine that you want to be on your way,” he said.

  Julia stood, too. They looked at each other, and a flare, a flicker of an old feeling of closeness lit up their eyes. Did Julia see some tenderness and hurt behind Dick’s peremptory expression? Or was it just wounded pride? Or all of these things?