Richard’s Lies
Richard came running to meet his fate by the pier, bringing bad news in the form of a letterhead envelope. She was in a sour mood and greeted him impatiently.
He stuttered, which made her roll her eyes. Staring at the water, she heard:
RICHARD
“Is it really how you want our last moments together to go? Is it that easier for you this way?”
As she didn’t say a word, he carried on:
RICHARD
“Frankly, my dear, I expected more. This attitude doesn’t fit the girl who made my first summer after school the best it could be. What’s the next step? Throwing the shoes I gave you in the water?”
ELIZABETH
“Quit it, Richard.”
RICHARD
“Out there, away from everything I cherish, all I wanted was to be able to remember how good it was to have you around, and to imagine you feel the same way about me. I didn’t count on you purposely ruining it.”
ELIZABETH
“Quit it, Richard! All this talking won’t lead us anywhere.”
RICHARD
“Does the truth bother you that much?”
ELIZABETH
“YES! Is that what you wanted to hear? It does, so drop it. If you just want to keep talking, leave the truth out of it.”
RICHARD
“How’s that?”
ELIZABETH
“Lie to me, Richard!”
RICHARD
“I’ll come back for you”
The dinner table was set. All seats comfortably distant from each other, pleasing Elizabeth’s bitter taste. It was New Year’s Eve, and the cutlery reflected the host’s wealth. At some point, she got bored. The food was already cold in her plate. She was already regretting saying yes to the new french neighbour she’d met at the tailor’s shop and found cool because she brought a cigarrette holder everywhere. Between puffs and drags, she had invited Elizabeth to the fanciest new year’s party she and her husband had attended to yet.
Though the goal was to fit in, now Elizabeth was impressed with the ability of her european hostess to seem superficial. She felt offended by the effort all the women made to pretend their husbands’ talk was too complex to be understood by housewives. Seriously, these men can’t be that into polo. They just read about it somewhere.
So she entered the door to her left, pretending to be looking for the restroom, but not actually asking anyone where it was. It happened to be her host’s office and library. She had barely seen him during the evening, the french lady’s husband, once he avoided socializing.
At first, she was just relieved she had found a place where those dogs wouldn’t be trying to jump on her dress. Then, she wandered around the room staring at the photographs and souvenirs, and was almost not frightened when she suddenly heard:
RICHARD
“Yes, this is where I keep everything I cherish. I was wondering how long it would take until you find it.”
ELIZABETH
“You seem to cherish a lot of stuff…”
RICHARD
“I have to say it’s rather flattering to be greeted by this sour side of yours. Took me nearly nine years to figure it comes to surface when something is trully important to you.”
ELIZABETH
“Quit the truth business, Richard. You know I like you better without it.”
RICHARD
“I do. I even think I’ve gotten better at it. It’s not easy to come all this way without any practice. I mean, with the dogs and all that.”
ELIZABETH
“Oh, I’m dying to see it.”
RICHARD
“Well, I thought of you every single day.”
