Red Leaves

‘You do have a cold, don’t you?’

‘Yes, yes I do.’ She didn’t really, but she knew it was important to Howard to show concern.

‘Where is your coat? You are wearing shorts?’

‘Forgot my coat.’ She shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

‘You still do it.’

‘Do what?’

‘Refuse to dress properly for wintertime.’

‘I find it invigorating.’

‘Viruses, they can be very invigorating. Strep throat. Pneumonia.’

‘Never had any of those things,’ Kristina said. He was nagging at her, playing mother, but it was all right. ‘Always been healthy as an ox.’

They waited to talk properly until after they ordered. Kristina wanted to order a salad with the delicious spicy mustard dressing, but it was her first meal of the day - the saltine crackers notwithstanding - and she didn’t want to be having mustard and vinegar for breakfast. She ordered carrot cake instead.

She tried to will herself to be less nervous. But she was wired. Last night she hadn’t had much sleep. And this beautiful morning, she had been up at seven. The bare-treed Vermont hills had sparkled in the sunlight, but now there was only anxiety as she thought about an upset Jim and the patient Howard - solid and polite, looking out at her from his black-rimmed glasses, with his gentle, unsmiling eyes.

‘How’ve you been?’ she asked, trying to calm down.

‘Good, Kristina, things are quite good. Busy.’

‘Well, busy is good,’ she said. He didn’t reply. ‘Isn’t it? Busy, it’s very good. You must be so… pleased… that you’re, you know, busy.’ She knew she was rambling. God! ‘Many interesting cases?’

He considered her for a moment. ‘How interesting can corporate law be? So let’s see these papers, Kristina.’

Kristina nervously took the manila envelope out of her backpack. Passing it to him, she said, ‘Everything looks okay.’

Howard paused before opening it. ‘Is everything okay? I am not so sure.’

Kristina chose to misunderstand him. ‘No, really. Everything is letter-perfect.’

With a glance through the documents, Howard laid them aside. ‘We never got a chance to speak about this. Has something happened?’

Something had happened. Kristina’s grandmother had died. But Howard didn’t know that. Nor would he.

‘I just think it’s for the best, that’s all,’ Kristina said, playing with her fork. She tasted the cream cheese icing of the carrot cake. It was good, but she just wasn’t hungry anymore.

‘Is it really for the best?’

‘Sure. Of course.’

‘Why? Why all of a sudden did you want a divorce?’

He was wearing a suit, and he looked so nice and familiar a pang of sadness hit her. She thought, does this mean I’m not going to see him again? I’m so used to knowing he’s there.

Shrugging, Kristina put down her fork. The coffee was cold, the cake was cheesy, and her stomach was empty. ‘It wasn’t all of a sudden. I thought it was time.’

‘Why?’

‘Howard, because I’m turning twenty-one, because I want to get on with my life. I mean, what if I want to marry someone?’ She paused. ‘What if you want to marry someone?’

‘Is there someone you want to marry, Kristina?’

‘Not yet. But who knows?’ She smiled. ‘Mr Right might be just around the corner.’

‘Hmm. I thought Jim was your Mr Right.’

Kristina coughed. ‘That’s what I meant. Jim.’ She was glad they were talking. Her hands calmed down. She wasn’t as hot anymore.

Howard leaned forward and, lowering his voice, which was already calm and low, asked, ‘Was this your idea?’

Kristina sat back from the table. They were sitting in the corner behind the stairs; the cellar was dimly lit and gloomy.

‘Howard, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I asked if it was your idea.’

‘I know what you asked. I just don’t know what you mean.’

‘Kristina, it is a yes-or-no question.’

‘You think everything is a yes-or-no question,’ she said, on edge.

‘Pretty much everything is,’ he said easily. ‘Let us try it again. Kristina, was this your idea?’

She felt impelled to answer him. ‘Mine, like how?’

‘Yours, like did you think of this all by yourself, or did someone else suggest we go ahead and get divorced?’

Incapable of answering him, Kristina said, ‘Who else could possibly -’ and then stopped. Howard was looking at her squarely in the face, and since she knew exactly what he meant, she thought it pointless to pretend any further. So she lied. ‘Yes, Howard. It was my idea.’

Howard stared at her impassively, but there was something heartfelt behind the serious brown eyes.

‘Eat your cake,’ Howard finally said in a gentle voice.

‘Who cares about the cake?’ she said sourly.

‘I care about the divorce.’

Kristina sighed deeply. ‘Howard,’ she said, ‘I know. But believe me. Everything’s gonna be okay.’

‘Kristina, I find that impossible to believe.’