My Other Half

Over a coffee, a future marriage is tested to its limits by the echoes of the past.

My Other Half

 

My fiancé is making us coffee in my kitchen. Her back is to me. Steam waves over her shoulders. I pick up the remote and turn off the TV. The noises my fiancé makes suddenly become very loud. Even my breathing sounds turned up. I reach for my cigarettes. I’m one of those people who’d rather be moving in the wrong direction than not moving at all. I light my cigarette. I go and join my fiancé at the counter, put my hands on her hips and push a kiss into the back of her neck. I look out of the window over her shoulder. Outside the sun falls.

            Dad rang today. He said he was OK and thanks for the wine. It’s a pretty lame present I know, and I felt bad when I spoke to him. I promised we’d go out for dinner some time soon, before the wedding, the three of us, so he could get to know Jill some more. He said that sounded great and there was a smile in his voice and he said let me know when and I’ll be there. With bells on he said. I told Jill about this and she said OK though I know she’s not very keen on it. She likes my Dad and all but dinner seemed a little forced she said, too formal, why can’t he just come round some time, we could all share a take-away and a movie or something she said.

The less I see my Dad the better we get on. We get on well enough but a few years ago, before I met Jill, when a joint lack of options meant that we had to spend Christmas alone together, I could have killed him after a couple of days. He didn’t do anything wrong I guess, he just made so many references to my mother and her Christmas and all the money she cost him I just couldn’t take it and left a day early. He said we could have had a bigger turkey if your mum hadn’t been so selfish. He said he wouldn’t have had to buy the reduced food at the supermarket if your mother hadn’t run off. He said we could have had a good Christmas like we used to if your mother hadn’t acted so crazy. He’s allowed these thoughts I guess, he’s bound to be bitter, who wouldn’t be? It’s his right I guess. So I said yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re right, and tried to change the subject but she kept coming back.

Last Christmas was a few weeks ago and we went away, Jill and I. Nothing big, just a hotel on the coast. We spent more on room service than we did on the room. When we first walked in the room there were all these brochures and leaflets on the bed about places to go and things to see. I don’t think we left the hotel once. We just stayed in bed chatting nothing, making love, drinking cheap whisky, laughing drunk. It felt good and we were sad when we left. I rang my Dad from the hotel room and wished him a merry Christmas. He was happy to hear from me but when I mentioned I was with Jill in a hotel on the coast he got strange and after a few minutes he said he was sorry he had to go, he had to do something that couldn’t wait. I didn’t ask what it was, I just wished him a good day and put the phone down. Jill and her parents don’t really see eye to eye. They don’t talk so much as share information. Jill’s twenty years younger than me and I guess that doesn’t help things much. All this parent stuff isn’t so important to us; it just feels like another household chore we have to take care of. I wish my Dad was happier and he had more money, if that’s what would make him happy. But I’m not responsible for him, his happiness or his bank balance.

Jill wants to get married soon. With my help she’s opening her own restaurant-café thing next year and doesn’t want our marriage to get in the way. I understand. I guess it’s strange that a man my age, comfortably in his forties, shouldn’t be in a hurry to get married as quickly as possible. That’s what Jill said with a smile a few nights ago. Don’t get me wrong, I really love Jill. When I look at her I feel like a lucky man. When she sleeps I spend hours trying to memorizing her face, imprint it on my mind, make a solid memory out of it, something I can keep forever. But she never stays. The next morning, after she has left for work or college, I try to reimagine her but all I can see are separate parts which when put together only resemble old photos of her, or, worse, I see her face without features, all blank, all empty.

 

The coffee’s made. She brings it to the table and we sit down. I put my cigarette out. She has this look in her face like she wants to ask me something, this mischievous grin growing from the corners of her mouth. I drink my coffee looking into these eyes.

“Thomas?” She puts her hair back behind her ears making her look like she’s wearing two question marks. She only calls me Thomas when she’s happy or angry.

“Yes?”

“When are you going to make an honest woman out of me?”

“Honest? It’s too late for that, love.”

“Yeah? So when are you going to make a dishonest woman out of me then?”

“I think we did that this morning, honey.”

“Oh, shut up,” she playfully slaps my arm and laughs this open laugh, “C’mon, I want to sort this out, I can’t relax, I need to know, Thomas, there’ll be so much to do, it takes time…”

“Yes, Jill.” I drink my coffee, my eyes low.

“So…when?”

“Honey, if I could I’d marry you now…but it’s not as simple as that.”

“Yeah it is, yeah it is. C’mon, honey, I’ll get the calendar.” She gets up to move but I put my hand on her arm and pull her back down. The room is getting darker. If we’re going to stay here someone’s going to have to go and turn on a light.

“Jill listen, sit down, we can get the calendar out in a minute but there’s something I’ve got to say to you, something we need to talk about.”

“Oh dear, this sounds serious.” Her face closes. “C’mon, what is it Thomas, you’ve got me worried now.” I take a sip of my coffee.

“Honey, there’s nothing to worry about,” I laugh a light laugh but she stays silent, “Nothing to worry about at all. Anyway, Honey, I, err, I want, I mean I’d like us, I’d like us to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. Now, listen…”

“What?!” A laugh comes out of her mouth as hollow as a ring.

“Honey, listen, I love you so much, so much, and if I get to wake up next to you for the rest of my days, well, I can honestly say I lived a good life. In no way whatsoever does this represent some lack of trust, or commitment, or belief, or anything, I just want to be sure.”

“Your Dad made you say this, didn’t he?”

“No, he didn’t make me, he didn’t even mention it. But you’re right, as always, it’s his voice in my head that wants this. Not to learn from his lesson, to find myself in his position in ten years time, I couldn’t handle that, honey.”

“For f**k’s sake Thomas, listen to yourself! You’re scared I’m going to take all your s**t? Your s**t? I’m the one with my own business, I should be f*****g asking you for a f*****g pre-nuptial thing.”

“Honey, please, you don’t need to shout. This isn’t a competition.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just something I have to do.” Over her back I see the sun has gone. I lean over and turn on the thin florescent kitchen light but it seems to make everything darker. I lean back and wish I hadn’t turned it on.

“So what’s the deal, you go into this marriage with everything you own and you leave with it. And we can’t share anything, everything’s mine and yours, nothing’s ours, is that it?” I hold the coffee cup in two hands.

“Honey, no, no, no. Everything we do when we marry we share. Of course.”

“So you keep your house and half my restaurant.”

“Jesus! No honey, look, I want us to sign an agreement because…”

“You don’t love me. You’re scared I’m going to leave you and run out and take all your s**t just like your mother took all your Dad’s s**t, because you don’t believe this marriage is going to work.”

“Honey, for God’s sake, first of course, I love you, how dare you question that! Second, shut up about my Mum and Dad, ok? This is about us, this is my decision, not his, not hers, it’s mine, got it? And third you’re ignoring a blatant contradiction, if you believe this marriage is going to work than anything we sign before we marry has no power, no meaning.”

“What? Listen, Alex, you want me to sign this because you think there is a chance that this won’t work, right? And you don’t want to end up like your Dad, right? So this means you don’t trust this marriage.” My coffee’s half finished. She hasn’t touched hers.

“Maybe your right Jill, maybe. But think how much people change. Think how much we’ve changed in two years, think how much you and I will change together in twenty years. I trust this marriage honey, of course I do, and I trust you, completely, but I don’t trust time that’s all.”

“And what does that mean?”

“ It means anything can happen, anything, and I don’t want to look back in twenty years and think God, Tom, you were an idiot not getting her to sign that.”

“Is this because I’m younger than you Thomas, is it? F**k, I thought we were through that s**t?”

“No, if you were twenty years older than me, I’d still want it.”

“Right! Well, I’m glad I know now.”

“Jill!”

 

We sit not looking at each other together in this silence. The sun has gone down and the room is all dark apart from the kitchen light that shines on us like a cheap moon. If someone came in right now and saw us, two people sitting in the dark sharing cold coffee, God knows what they’d think.

 

“So, if I don’t agree to this, we don’t get married, is that it?”

“Honey, I’m not going to force you to do anything, anything at all. But this is what I want, and you’re going to be my wife, and you should want this to work, want me to be happy.”

“Thomas, I want you to be happy, of course, and I love you, I promise.” She says with another laugh and then stands up ending our conversation and, leaving her coffee on the table, takes my half and goes and throws it down the sink.

 

Author's Note

As always please link me to any work you may want me to read...

Reviews

[Ali Guerra]

excellent write. very realistic when it comes to intricacy in a relationship: age, trust, parents

I like the symbolism of how the room was getting dark and of the coffee at the end

and the dad, how his mother took all his money and then how it ties back to the son's relationship

and the age difference between them

really enjoyed it :]

[Andrew James Talbot]

Thank you very much, indeed. I too enjoyed the symbolism of the light and dark - felt it gave both meaning and pace to the story. Cheers

[Yellow Butterfly]

Wow... what a compelling story... literally couldn't stop reading from start to finish... the trials and tribulations between two people in love and the obstacles faced when trying to make the best decisions.

I felt for Thomas as I felt his vulnerability in trying to protect... well... his dignity and pride. I also felt for Thomas's father feeling like a man scorned by the woman who he put all is pride and dignity into for her to wipe it clean from underneath him. Clearly Thomas's fathers wrongful injustices with the woman he loved has only made Thomas protect himself from the hurt his father had suffered which led to question... the whole ethics of Marriage and the essence of true love.

As for Jill, it's a hard call.... desperate to be 'a wife' but if she loved Thomas likes she said she did..... the pre-nuptual would not have been an issue.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this... it carried an air of suspense and filled me with trepidation not really knowing how it was going to end... and in the end up..... tall they had was a lovers tiff...

Brilliant story

YB

[Andrew James Talbot]

Thank you so much for your time and comments - very encouraging. I am not sure it is just a tiff, however, if the symbolism of the coffee is to be believed! Thanks again!

[Yellow Butterfly]

Jill was more annoyed than angry with Thomas... if she was really all out for his money.... she could have thrown the coffee all over him. Hmmm my thoughts are that the coffee scenario at the end was her way of showing him.....she DOES loves him...

[Andrew James Talbot]

Fair enough, but I always felt that - due to the link to the title, the half being his money and the coffee cup and the ambiguous 'another' laugh - she had refused or would do worse in the future. But of course all interpretations are valid and I guess that is how short stories can be so powerful.

Anyway, thanks again for your insight, it means a lot!

[Yellow Butterfly]

Your welcome :O)

[Yellow Butterfly]

Your right, this a powerful write... my pleasure :O)