«It drives me mad, Blythe,» I said, «and when you have a hopeless ailment, perhaps solitude will do you good?»
Blythe had long diagnosed herself with a bitter conditionjealousy. She claimed it was incurable and would remind me every time I asked her not to throw a fit over trifles. My motherinlaw, Margaret, often told her grandson that his wife was jealous of «every lamppost.» I never understood the lamppost metaphor, but I couldn’t deny that Blythe was indeed overly possessive.
«Did you cause a scene in the shop?» I asked her sharply at home after we left the supermarket, our groceries piled on the trolley. Blythe had erupted when I glanced at the cashier, and she made a whole drama right there.
Ashamed, I left her alone with the bags, but she refused to let go of the items she’d chosen and chased after me.
«Who were you looking at? Were you stripping her in your mind?» I snapped. «Theres nothing to look atno skin, no bird.»
«I dont even know what that woman looks like,» she muttered, distracted. «I remembered I promised Simon Id draw up a power of attorney today. Im sending him off on a business trip, yet I wasted time wandering the aisles with you.»
«Of course youll find a thousand excuses now, just to avoid admitting fault,» I replied. «Why didnt you go straight from the shop to the office if it was that urgent?»
«Because Simon is coming to see me himself; I had to pull him from his schedule.»
«Male solidarity, even to the point of disrupting someone’s day, just to justify yourself,» she retorted.
«Blythe, stop giving me a reason to be jealous for no good reason, or this will lead nowhere.»
«And you wont give me a reason either, then I wont be jealous.»
I shook my head. She never really gave me a reason; she simply saw threats where there were none. Perhaps that was her talent. I was tired of explaining. Id married Blythe in a blaze of love, but after five years of her endless tantrums, the romance was slowly dying. Sometimes I wondered whether Id chosen the right partner. A few more years and life would feel utterly bleak.
I ran a modest mediaproduction firm, while Blythe worked for the city council. Shed risen slowly through the ranks and clung to her prestigious post, never wanting to lose it. Whenever I broached the subject of children, she reminded me that her career took precedence. «When Im comfortably settled in my new chair, then we can think about itprovided we hire a nanny straight away.»
Her attitude toward family values grated on me, yet I respected her opinion and couldnt push the issue. I suggested she quit her job, but she was driven by ambition, not money.
Soon Simon, my assistant, arrived and we discussed a few matters. As I escorted him out, he asked, «Why is Blythe in a sour mood again? Did you two have a row?»
«Just the usual,» I shrugged. «Jealousy keeps her from peace.»
«Jealousy means love,» Simon chuckled. «I sometimes wonder if my own wife, Natalie, loves me. Ive never sparked a jealous scene; I even flirted with her friend just to test her, and she never noticed.»
«I envy you,» I said, shaking his hand, wishing him a good trip.
That evening I sat at my desk, emailing a client in a different time zone. When I finally logged off and slipped into the bedroom, still halfforgotten about the days argument, I tried to pull Blythe close. She jerked her arm away as if waiting for the moment.
«Go hug the cashier!» she snapped, and I lost my temper.
I sprang from the bed, grabbed the blanket and pillow, and stormed to the door. At the threshold I turned, raised my voice and declared, «Ill spend the night in the office. If you dont calm down, I wont even come home tomorrow. Im fed up!»
The next morning Blythe woke me with a gentle kiss and a cup of coffee.
«Mark, I’m sorry about yesterday. You have to understandjealousy is a disease that cant be cured. And a man like you is impossible not to provoke.»
«I dont like this, Blythe,» I replied seriously. «When you have an incurable illness, perhaps solitude will help.»
She thought about my words. If I really left, patience would eventually run out, and she tried to be gentle. From that day on the house settled into a quiet calm. Blythe became the compliant woman Id never seen before. Though my work kept me late at the office, I would tell her before I left and return with a bouquet of her favourite red roses. She would have dinner ready, though I sometimes wondered why he couldnt organise his work so he didnt stay late. It was a small frustration, not a major flaw.
I felt happy again, but happiness, like a zebras stripes, can vanish with a single step.
One bright morning Blythe called while I was at work.
«Mark, are you busy?» she asked.
«No, whats up?» I replied.
«I need a lift. I have to drive to a childrens sanatorium outside town for work, and my cars in the garage. Can you take me?»
«Sure,» I said, glad for a change of scenery.
Driving into the sanatorium grounds, I was taken by the towering cedars lining the paths and the wooden statues of fairytale characters scattered about. Children played with their parents, birds sang, and the air was simply blissful.
«Go on, enjoy yourself. Ill be back soon,» Blythe said, heading into the building. A fouryearold boy rushed at me, shouting, «Daddys here! Where have you been?» He clutched my leg while I stood rooted, glancing between Blythe, who turned into a wooden figure, and the boys mother hurrying after him.
A young woman, flushed with embarrassment, hurried to her daughter and tried to untangle them.
«Sweetie, it’s not our dad!» she said, looking at me. «Sorry, Ill explain again.»
Blythe then launched into a tirade:
«And what will you say now, love? That Blythes wrong again? Will you repeat that you remind me?»
The little girl stared at Blythe in terror, then clung to her mother, trembling like a kitten caught in rain.
«Why is aunt shouting at dad?» the girl asked. Her mother knelt and whispered soothing words, holding her tightly.
«Blythe, dont yell at the child; youve frightened her!» I warned sternly.
«Look at him!» Blythe roared. «Hes slacking off and Im fed up! It wont work, love, it wont work!»
Other mothers quickly pulled their kids away from the scene. The girls mother took her hand, but the child refused to go.
«Dad, let him come with us!»
«Dad!» Blythe spat. «Why dont you go with them? Come on, forward, with a song! Ill file for divorce and split the assets, just so you get nothing! Youve betrayed me.»
«Please, sorry, this isnt my daughters father,» the woman pleaded. «Dont argue, children are watching!»
«Shut your mouth!» Blythe snapped. «Hes still my husband by law. Hell be yours when Im done!»
The woman lifted her daughter, apologized to me, and hurried off, while the girl sobbed, «Dad!»
«Blythe, calm down at once!» I grabbed her shoulders, meeting her eyes. «The girl made a mistake, and you turned it into a scene. Are you out of your mind?»
«Of course Im right! Im the only one who sees it! How could you not stand up for me? My connections matter!» she shouted.
«You’re crossing every line, Blythe. I wont excuse myself for something that isnt my fault!»
A voice from behind called, «Mrs. Blythe! Is everything alright?» It was the sanatoriums director.
«No, everythings fine,» Blythe replied, shaking her head, then glared at me. «Dont expect me to come home, dont wait for me. Ill manage on my own,» she snapped, walking away with her chin held high.
I scratched my head, got into my car, and watched her stride past without a glance, soon disappearing into a taxi.
«Well, thats that,» I muttered, spotting a woman hurrying to my cara mother of little Dasha. She looked flustered.
«Excuse me,» she began again, «I put Dasha to bed and she was so upset that I was scared for her. I wanted to explain to you and your wife. You look a lot like my late husband. From a distance I thought it was you, but clearly its an illusion. Dasha is tiny and doesnt understand. She loves her father and asks every night for a fairy to bring him back. Please tell your wife we didnt mean to spoil her mood; Im sorry.»
«I think Im a widower now,» I sighed, wishing her luck as I drove off.
I didnt feel like returning home. I spent the night at the office, deciding Id keep all the assets for Blythe and buy a new place for myselfclients were plentiful.
The next day I rented a flat temporarily and headed home to collect my things. To my surprise, Blythe was there, sipping whisky in daylight.
«Want a drink?» she offered, holding out a bottle.
«Thanks, but I dont drink,» I said.
«I havent forgotten,» she retorted, «and after all those years of you cheating, Im finally the one whos grown.»
I said nothing; I was done talking. Love had vanished, and all feeling for her evaporated. I packed my belongings silently. As I left, Blythe called out,
«Dont expect anything from the divorce. I lost my job because of you; they asked me to write the ownership paperwork for your daughter!»
She laughed loudly, and I replied from the doorway,
«Because of you, Blythe, you lost everything!»
I resolved to turn the page, never to look back on the brief happiness Id known. I filed for divorce, and when the papers arrived I sought new accommodation. With no time to handle it myself, I turned to a letting agencyonly to see the same woman from the sanatorium. She recognised me instantly and asked nervously,
«Did something happen? Was it because of that incident with Dasha?»
«No, why would you think that?» I replied. «It was just a noisy episode. The director called me in, I explained the mixup, and I thought you might have trouble because of it.»
«I came to you as a professional. That little adventure didnt bother meit was actually better for me,» I added, realising Id said the wrong thing. «Help me find a decent house, please.»
She smiled, asked the usual questions, took notes, and promised to call back in a few days.
She truly took her job seriously. Over the weekend she phoned me with several options, describing each in detail. By evening I knew exactly which house I would buy.
«Thank you, Nadine,» I said, a little embarrassed, «youve spent so much time on me. May I invite you to dinner, if youre not in a hurry? By the way, hows your daughter?»
«With my mother,» she answered, «and I wouldnt turn down dinner.»
After dinner I drove Nadine home, and we met a few more times until the deal was sealed.
«Well, Nadine, thanks to you Im now the owner of a lovely house at a very modest price. Youre now obliged to attend my housewarmingexcuse my forwardness, but without you the celebration wouldnt feel right.»
«Of course Ill come,» she replied.
She kept dropping by even after the housewarming. Six months later, I could no longer hold back and proposed to her. She didnt refuse. And how happy little Dasha was when I promised never to disappear from them again.
