Little Flame

My new cooker was delivered today, but I had to send it back. I needed a new cooker because the old one had pictures of flames around the knobs for turning the gas up and down...
Emily was at my house making dinner. She put a pot on the cooker and left the gas way up on big flame. Things would always burn on big flame.
No, no, I said. You have to put it on little flame, otherwise it'll burn.
Emily stood there looking at me and I remember the exact shade of her hair and the little pout she had on her lips. Then she was smiling and putting her arms arounnd me. Little flame, she said. Oh, you are priceless.
It's difficult to use a cooker that has pictures of little flames and you call them little flames, and you know this makes someone love you because it's innocent and you. In the end I couldn't go near the damn thing. All I could see was the little flame and I could hear Emily saying, You are priceless, and holding on to me as though we were branded into each other.
When it came, the new cooker didn't have pictures of flames. It just had a zero for when the gas is off and a nine for when you want to burn things.
It wasn't the same.

Why the hell would I do that?

And that's not all she told me, said Haiafan.

No? I said.

No.

Go on, then, I said.

She said you sit watching the window. She said you watch the window like you're looking out of it, but she doesn't think you are.

Really? I said.

Yes, really, said Haiafan. She said she thinks you're watching a reflection.

Watching a reflection, I said. Why the hell would I be watching some girl in a reflection?Why the hell would I do that?

Haiafan looked at me for a moment. I don't know, she said. Maybe you're just watching the traffic.

 

 

Almost a week.

 

When will you be home?

She looked through the dark to the window then closed her eyes. She yawned and tried to sound tired. Tuesday, maybe Wednesday, she said.

Almost a week, he said.

Maybe, yes.

She concentrated very hard on the voices outside in the street. The pubs were turning out again and she could hear people shouting and laughing.

Is he going?

She didn't move. For a moment she didn't even breathe. She let the question settle in the air.

Who? she said.

She could feel him next to her and he was rigid, not moving. He didn't say a word. The way he was she knew he had his eyes open.

I don't know, she said. Probably not.

There was a tiny pause, just a few seconds in the darkness when there was no sound, not even from outside. Then he turned over. He had his back to her now. She could hear him breathing.

She looked over to the window, but it was too dark to see anything clearly.

Don't be silly, she said.

 

 

I should have said something.

 

On Wednesday she pushes hair back from her face and says, I'm thinking of leaving you John.

I'm stunned and ask why.

It's complicated, she says. It's me, not you. She looks at her hands. I'm changing in more ways I thought possible, she says. It's a transformation, she says.

On Friday when I return, she is calm.

John, she says, I've been thinking about what I said and I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry John.

Okay, it's okay, I say soothingly. I move to put my arms around her.

She looks very upset. No, she says.

It's okay, honey, I say, we'll work this out. I know we can put all this behind us.

She pushes me away and says, No, John! She puts her hands in her hair and looks at me.

I'm sorry, John, she says. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Harris. I should have said something, she says. I should have been honest with you.

I'm in love with him, John.