The Confession

54

I parked on the dark, empty street outside her block and went over the words in my head. I took a breath, wiped my face, and got out.

She wore slacks and a white blouse that hung loose and transparent over her breast. She wore a smile as well. “Ferenc, I didn’t think you’d come. Give me that coat.”

I gave it to her and watched her take it through the kitchen to the bedroom to toss it on the bed. She noticed my hesitation when we kissed.

“I was going to whip up something to eat. You hungry?”

“I just ate.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

I sat on the sofa. She stood in front of me a moment, then straddled my knees. “Tell me, Ferenc.”

“Yes, we should talk.” I moved her off of my knees-she was light, easy to lift-and onto the cushion beside me.

Frowning, she left a hand on my thigh.

“It’s over. From this moment. It’s over.”

“Us?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Look: I have to make things work with Magda. It’s what I have to do.”

Vera looked at her hand on my leg, then began to stroke. “You don’t have fun with me?”

“That’s not it.”

“You don’t like what we do?”

“You know I like it.”

“Well then,” she said. “You keep working on Magda, and at the same time keep working on me.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is. I do it all the time, and I can tell you how easy it is.”

I took her hand from my leg and put it on her own, but her other hand fell upon mine and pressed it to her thigh.

“Listen, Ferenc.”

“I can’t listen.”

She drew my hand up into her groin, and though I could have resisted, I didn’t.

“I should go now.”

“Don’t be a bastard,” she said, but her voice was soft. She put her free hand on my crotch. “She won’t do the things I’ll do, you know this.”

As she massaged me, she leaned up to my ear and whispered what she would do. I looked at her, momentarily shocked, then easing into it. But the fears of a life of regret flashed back, and I took her hand off me. “I really should go.”

“You know what your problem is?”

I should have stood up and left. But I said, “Let’s pretend I don’t know.”

“Simplicity.”

“Thanks for the insight.”

She shook her head. “It’s true. You’re desperate for simplicity. It’s why you’ve held on so long to a dead marriage. You want to think you understand everything, but you’ll never understand yourself until you accept your contradictions.”

I stood up, but didn’t walk away.

She said, “You need to learn that specific actions do not yield specific results. Just because you’re good to your marriage doesn’t mean it’ll be good to you.” She grabbed my arm, but I pulled it away.

“You don’t get it,” I said. “It’s…it has to do with Stefan. With my daughter, with everything.”

She pulled her lips back and showed me her teeth.

“Where’s my coat?”

“You know where.”

I didn’t want it like this, but my explanations had turned to smoke. I went back to the bedroom and took my coat from the bed. It was the right decision, I knew this, and I had to see it through. When I turned, she was standing in the bedroom doorway, blocking my exit.

“Let me see something,” she said.

She took the coat from my hand, tossed it back on the bed, and sank to her knees. When she started to take off my belt, I reached down to stop her, but she slapped my hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

She unbuttoned me quickly. I was excited despite myself. She looked at it, almost curiously, then put it into her mouth.

The telephone woke us. Vera turned on the bedside light and looked at the clock-a little after five in the morning. She walked naked to the living room. “Yes?…No, he’s not…okay, all right. I’ll get him.” Then: “Ferenc!”

“I won’t say a thing, okay, buddy?”

“I’m not worried about that, Georgi. What do you need?”

“Not me. Magda. She called over here looking for you. She was worried.”

“About me?”

“No, not you. At least she didn’t say that. Someone was banging on your door.”

“Who?”

“She doesn’t know. A man. She thinks he’s gone now.”

“When was this?”

“Fifteen minutes ago. Something like that.”

It was cold, and the car took a while to start. My breath steamed the windshield. I bounced through the holes and crevices of our parking lot. The block looked empty. I climbed the flights, pausing to listen and check the color of the steps. Then I listened at the door and used the key. “It’s me,” I whispered as I pushed it open.