A weary woman after six years of solitude.
Marie was truly drained. She had been living alone for six years, ever since her husband left her. The previous year her daughter married and moved to another city.
At fortytwo, Marie was in the prime of lifea second youth. She was an excellent homemaker, famed for her tomatowithgherkin relishes that everyone called a masterpiece. But who could she still make them for? The jars were already piling up on the balcony, untouched.
I wont wither away in loneliness, especially when Im so beautiful, Marie would tell her friends. They replied, No! Find yourself a husband! There are plenty of single men out there.
One suggested the matrimonial service Le Meilleur Époux. Marie thought it a bit absurd and pathetic to resort to an agency. Yet at fortytwo the number made her uneasy. Her grandmothers old clock ticked away the passing time with its metallic clatter.
So Marie walked into the agency. A pleasant lady with violet glasses greeted her:
We truly have the best. Lets look together in our database. Sit beside me.
Theyre all very handsome, Marie smiled, but how will I know if any of them is right for me?
Thats what we arrange, the lady answered. Well lend you one for a week. Thats enough time to decide whether hes the one or if you should keep searching.
Lend?
Yes. A man will come to live with you for a week. Were not here to blush like teenage girls; we get straight to the point. And we have neither maniacs nor lunatics.
Suddenly the idea excited Marie. Together with the violetglassed lady she chose five candidates, paid a modest fee, and hurried home. The first suitor was to arrive that very evening.
She slipped into a green dressthe colour of hopeand donned diamond earrings she rarely took out of her old box.
Ding! The doorbell rang.
Marie peeked through the peephole, saw roses, and let out a small joyful gasp. She opened the door; the man looked exactly as his photograph.
They sat down to a meal; Marie had prepared a feast, placing the bouquet in the centre of the table. Watching her charming guest discreetly, she thought, This ones enough; I dont need anyone else.
When they began the salad, the prospective husband grimaced, Why so much salt? Embarrassed, Marie smiled and served him a roasted duck. He chewed a piece and complained, A bit tough. He disliked the rest as well. In her rush, Marie had forgotten the most important elementthe wine she had carefully selected. She poured it, saying, To our meeting! He sniffed, took a sip, and declared, What a mediocre wine. He stood up, Lets see your apartment
Marie handed him the bouquet, I dont like roses at all. Goodbye.
That night she shed a few tears, feeling hurt. Yet four more meetings remained.
The second suitor arrived the next evening, striding in confidently, Hey! He reeked of vodka. Marie asked, Did you already celebrate our meeting somewhere? He laughed, Come on! Is there a TV here? The PSGMarseille match is starting; we can chat while watching. Marie replied sharply, Watch TV at home.
Again she cried a little that night, alone.
Two days later the third candidate appeared. He was unattractive, wore an old jacket, had unkempt nails, and mud on his shoes. Marie was already formulating a polite way to dismiss him, but she invited him to eat first. He devoured the food quickly, showering Marie with compliments that left her nearly bewildered. She opened a can, and he exclaimed, My God! This is the best thing Ive ever tasted!
At that moment her grandmothers clock chimed. The unattractive man asked, Whats that clanking sound? He climbed onto a stool, inspected the clock, and said, Ill fix it fast! Do you have tools? Soon the clock rang clearly and beautifully, and Marie felt delighted by the sweet tone. She took it as a sign: this man could be her husband. He possessed many virtues and handy skills; the muddy shoes and ragged nails were minor, fixable issues. Moreover, he was the third candidatea lucky number.
They were to spend the night together. Marie had prepared: she visited a beauty salon, laid out elegant bedding with large rose patterns (she truly loved roses). When she emerged from the bathroom, the guest was already asleep, fully dressed. It didnt disturb her. She gazed at him tenderly, Youre tired, poor thing, and slipped under the covers beside him.
Then the nightmare began. The handyman started snoringloud and powerful. Marie propped a pillow over her head, then tried turning it over, but nothing helped. She lay awake all night, suffering.
In the morning, the guest went to the kitchen where a sullen Marie sat. So, what do you think? Should I move in tonight with my things?
Marie shook her head, No, Im sorry. Youre a good person, but No!
The fourth suitor, bearded, reminded Marie of a hero from an old adventure film. She even let him smoke in the kitchen. After a puff, he declared, Marie, lets be clear from the start. Im a free man. I love fishing, hanging out with friends, and I dont like being pestered with Where are you? Is that okay?
Marie watched him drop ash into an orchid pot and asked, You chase women too, dont you? The bearded man smiled, Why not? Im free! Thats normal for a man.
After he left, Marie aired the kitchen for a long time. Her head throbbed, she felt utterly exhausted, drained of energy, and didnt even wash the dishes.
The next morning she opened her eyes to sunshine behind the curtains, sparrows singing cheerfully. She suddenly realized how good she felt. It was Saturday. No rush, no one bothering her, no grumbling, no snoring. The dishes? Shed do them whenever she wanted. Peace and freedom.
Suddenly the phone rang: Hello, Marie! This is the Le Meilleur Époux agency. We have another candidate for you today, remember? Hes wonderful; this one will surely be the right one!
Marie shouted into the receiver, Cross me off! Delete my file! No more! The best husband is the one that doesnt exist! And, laughing, she pulled the curtains wide open.
A Woman Weary After Six Years of Solitude
