Antebellum

Antebellum

It had been a long time since she’d been in the French countryside. Six months in fact, not a day more or less, since she’d last walked these dirty, worn-down, cobblestone streets on her way to what the locals affectionately referred to as the Cat Piss Cafe. The waiter there greeted Marie warmly as she walked up to the old wooden door – she wasn’t a frequent customer, but she was a memorable one.

Richard was already there, sitting at one of the outside, glass tables scanning the crowd – presumably for her. It didn’t take long for him to spot her, and Marie watched with a heavy heart as his face lit up, and he eagerly motioned her over. What she had to do today just became harder. “You look lovely today,” he greeted warmly, rising as she arrived at the table. He leaned over to kiss her cheek but she pulled away.

“Thank you,” Marie replied quietly. Richard’s brow furrowed slightly as both of them sat down, reading the menu. Silence reigned until a waiter came over, chatting jovially with both of them as he took down their orders and departed. “How have you been?”

“Excellent,” Richard replied, face splitting into a wide, goofy grin. “I just recently got a job promotion. Now I get to sit on my ass and give orders rather than busting my ass running and carrying them out. How have you been doing?”

“Fine.”  Marie paused, looking for the right words to say. There was no easy way to break the news…  “Richard, I-”

“How are the kids?” Marie grimaced, but Richard wasn’t paying attention. As usual.

“They’re doing good. Rachel is excited to start first grade next month. She wants you to come shopping with us so you can help her pick out the ‘coolest backpack ever’, her own words.”

Richard smiled warmly, taking a swig of his beer. There was a small growing collection near his elbow, an alarming sight. “I should come visit sometimes. I saw a little blue bear I know Rach would love.”

Marie sighed. “I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Why?  You’ve never minded before.”

“Yes, but Richard, I -” Marie abruptly stopped as the waiter returned with their meal.  The soup was steaming hot and she paused to blow on it before eating a spoonful.

“How’s Katie?” Richard asked timidly. His other daughter had been upset by the separation, blaming him.

“She got a scholarship to John Hopkins,” Marie declared proudly, face lighting up. The memory of the smile on her daughter’s face was one that would stay forever. “We took her out last night to celebrate.”

“You didn’t invite me?”

“She didn’t want you there.” Neither of them did, truthfully.

Richard sighed. “Still, John  Hopkins…that doesn’t sound like any local school I know of. Is it in England?”

“America,” Marie corrected him, frowning. “It’s a prestigious medical school.”

Richard beamed. “My daughter, all grown up and going to be a doctor. Looks like she got my brains after all.” Marie coughed, hiding a derisive snort. “She’ll be lonely, being in a country across the sea by herself.”

Marie steeled herself for what was coming. She couldn’t let things continue like this. “She won’t be alone.”

“What?”

“I’m moving to America.”

“You – wait, what?” Richard stared at her, mouth agape. “But, but, the children!”

“They’re coming with me.”

“You can’t take my kids!”  Richard sat up in his seat, face starting to turn red.

“They’re my children too,” Marie snapped, getting fed up. It was always the same damn argument! ”They’re coming with me.”

“You can’t take them!” Richard insisted, face contorting into a snarl.

“The courts say I can,” Marie spat.

Richard leaned forward, looming formidably over the table. Marie could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You…bitch!” He spat.

SLAP!

The surrounding tables grew silent at the sound, heads turning to stare at them. Marie flushed in embarrassment, heart pumping with adrenaline. Her palm stung from the force of the blow she’d delivered to Richard’s cheek. He sat back in his chair, one hand going to his face as he stared silently at her. “It’s been a long time since you’ve hit me,” he commented quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Richard looked subdued. Silence reigned across the table as they finished their meal, a bit of soup spilling in Marie’s lap as her spoon trembled.

“America, you say?” Richard asked, finished with his sandwich. Marie sighed, not answering as the waiter came by to place their check on the table and clear their dishes. He was giving them both an uncertain look.

“Yeah,” Marie eventually replied, heart heavy. Richard would keep badgering her if she never answered.

“That’s not so bad,” he continued, trying to sound casual. “I could always come with you.”

“Richard-”

“You probably don’t want us living together, but I’m sure I can find an affordable apartment nearby-”

“Richard-”

“I could see the kids more often, maybe even take Rach to school on the bus. Or maybe drive – Americans use cars a lot, right?”

“Richard-”

“And we could see each other more often than twice a year, maybe I can even cook dinner from time to -”

“Richard I’m getting married,” Marie blurted, looking frustrated.

Richard closed his mouth, blinking owlishly. “Married?  To who?”

Marie blushed. “An American businessman I met a while back, named Hank. He works with art dealers, and was meeting a few contacts in France.”

“Marie, I don’t want to know.”

She ignored him. It was his tum to listen. “We met at a cafe in Paris. A thief tried stealing my bag while I was eating lunch, and he actually tackled him to the ground, can you believe it? I treated him to dinner as a thank you and…well, he asked to see me again. This was about 5 months ago.”

“Marie, I don’t want to know.”

“You’re going to hear it anyway,” Marie snapped. “I have to get it through your thick skull that we’re never getting back together.”

Richard looked bewildered. “But…but we get along great! I thought we were finally getting closer, I mean…you still keep meeting me!”

Marie sighed heavily. ‘The only reason I agreed to see you every six months was so that you would stop calling me every week! It’s over, Richard. Done. Nothing is going to change that.”

“But I love you,” Richard replied desperately.

Marie stood up, pulling out her wallet. “Not enough to stop drinking,” she retorted quietly. Richard winced. ”Not enough to keep me from hitting you. We’re never going to work, Richard, love or not. And Hank…Hank makes me happy. I haven’t felt this happy in years.” She pulled out her half of the bill.

“I’ll pay for it,” Richard said hastily.

“Keep your money.” Marie dropped the bills on the table, ignoring him. She didn’t want to owe him anything. “This is goodbye, Richard.” She began to walk away.

“Wait!”  Despite herself, Marie paused at the sound of desperation in her ex­ husband’s voice, looking back. “Can I see you again?”  He was wearing that look, that apologetic, teary-eyed, despondent look that always made her cave in and let him back into her life again, and again, and again.  Even now she could feel herself wavering, wanting to erase the pain she had caused him. But…

“No.”

Marie walked away.  It was for the best…for both of them.

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– Stephanie Smith, 2nd Place in Short Story