The Condor Passes by Shirley Ann Grau

Author:Shirley Ann Grau [Grau, Shirley Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-4723-5
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2012-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Robert

ROBERT STOOD IN THE corner of his new bedroom, the inside of his skull shaking and shivering. Like jello. Or an earthquake. One or the other. He couldn’t decide which.

The whole room was full of pink roses. He squeezed the nearest bud between his fingers until it burst.

“Robert,” Anna called from the dressing room. “Why don’t you open the champagne?”

There it was, single bottle in a silver stand. Two crystal goblets next to it.

He expected Anna to be shy. Or afraid. But it was he who was nervous. She held his hand, and opened the iron gate and led him along the path to their house while her long satin skirts made little crisp noises against the bricks. He managed to unlock the door, but it was she who slipped the night latch across behind them.

The champagne opened with a loud plop. He poured it gently and carefully into the two glasses. It was pink. Or was it just the room reflecting? He found himself staring at the pink silk curtains. Was there really a window behind all that? …

The room seemed foggy; hazy. It was the soft lighting, the wall sconces with their tiny flickering fingers of light, the pink-shaded lamps.

He was married now. His life was organized and planned. A steady series of successes. Work bringing its rewards. Esteem and love. Increasing happiness. Bask in the approval of your wife’s brown eyes. … Me, the man of property, the successful businessman, growing distinguished gray hairs, the soft cushions of money all around. … And what the hell was bothering him?

The house hadn’t looked familiar. … He’d been here a hundred times. He knew the studs, and the laths, and the plaster; he knew the brick foundations and the underfloor. He knew the clapboards; he had looked into the buckets of paint. And now that he had moved here, nothing in the house seemed familiar.

“Is the champagne ready?” Anna wore a long white robe that billowed around her, fluttering and lifting and sending out waves of perfume.

“I never noticed that your hair was straight,” he said.

“I’ve always had straight hair,” she said.

“I don’t know why I never noticed.”

He picked up a glass, his hand shook. The frothy liquid ran along the finished surface of the table. Hastily, he reached for his handkerchief.

Anna put a hand on his arm, “Robert, everything in the house was made to be used, don’t worry about it.”

She was right. It was all his to be used. He handed her the glass. “Happy wedding, Mrs. Caillet.”

He’d expected a blush or a giggle. He got only a quiet smile. “I’m very happy, Robert.”

He said: “I like that, it looks lovely on you.” He reached out to touch the floating panels and his fingers were appalled by the dry scratchy feel. Like feeling dead leaves, he thought.

“I would like some more champagne, please.”

He filled her glass, without spilling this time. “I’m getting the hang of it.”

Learn all sorts of things. Learn to get used to this: me a married man.

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