Love Tunes

Sarah and Corrie

He was not riding a merry-go-round, yet he felt as if the world were spinning around – with him also whirling in place. All the objects in this living room spun around him: low glass table, meticulously carved mahogany bookshelves, a tall lamp standing solitarily in the corner, even the velvet blue couch where he was slouching with his head thrown back and leaning on the wall behind him, his arms resting meekly on both of his sides, legs open wide and uncaring to the world. Everything twirled until the colors on the surface of all and sundry blended to form a fudged rainbow, and finally – black descended.

If ever, today could be the most beautiful day in his life. It was his birthday today and he had just been promoted. Only losers say it’s much better to stay being subs, underlings, and repeatedly try to perk themselves up by pointing out that being supers will only bring trouble to oneself. Though this might be true, Anthony could not help but feel that he indeed was worthy of it. He had put himself out, finishing all of the spreadsheet before him, sometimes until late at night. He deserved his joy.

But he had no one to share it. At least not in this place, a place he used to call home. The delight Anthony had brought with him ever since he awoke and showered died away the minute he stepped into the dining room. (He didn’t even think the fact that he had awakened by himself was strange anymore, so he was hardly troubled with it.)

“Sarah,” Anthony nodded a little to a figure quietly reading a newspaper across the dining table. The business page almost covered all her face. Her wife. Or so according to the papers. There was a grunt replying to Anthony’s greeting, and Sarah absently turned the page. Anthony gulped despite himself, stepping to the fridge to get his usual breakfast – orange juice. He scowled at himself for forgetting the rules yet again: no words or the smallest gestures were to be exchanged between the two. But this was his birthday. Could he not get an exemption just for today?

Anthony stirred in his uneasy sleep on the couch, and jarred awake. Things had gone back to normal: the dimmed light that came from the standing lamp illuminated the stilled furniture in this part of his house. The man rose and traipsed up the stairs, heading to his bedroom. But he halted halfway as his eyes wandered to a closed dark-painted door. It was Sarah’s room. Used to be Sarah’s room. She would not return. Not ever. And that did not mean that she’d get back to where she originally belonged – in his room, in his bed.

“That was a mistake,” said Sarah flatly, completely numb to Anthony’s bashed emotions as if someone had delivered a severe punch to his belly. He did not have to ask what his wife meant; they had talked about this for months – their marriage, and the fact that Sarah was now seeing her old love again.

“What was--?” Anthony couldn’t help question, before his voice caught. “Our marriage or…?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Sarah snapped, and turned to the bedroom, the guest room that had been hers for some time now. Anthony grabbed at her shoulder, a little harsher than he meant, and twisted her around to face him.

“So what do you want?” he asked wearily. “Do you want a divorce?”

Sarah’s light green eyes went wide. “That’s not possible,” she exclaimed, with the hint of a plea in her voice. “Our families… My parents… You can’t disappoint both the Vennegors and Hesselinks at one time. You know yourself how crucial it is for our families to unite.” Now there was a prickle of tears on the edges of her eyes.

Anthony could not believe his ears. His wife had blatantly cheated on him yet she still wanted to stay together. How could that be possible? His eyes fixed on Sarah sharply.

“This is not possible,” Anthony retorted. “You can’t expect me to simply accept this, and in the mean time you – with that Jan of yours…”

Sarah averted her eyes, sniffling softly. “You can do the same. You can do whatever you want, just don’t leave me.”

The woman’s voice was so quiet Anthony could barely catch it.

Anthony went to a table on the opposite site of his bedroom and picked a small, shiny slide trumpet. He fingered it lightly before placing his hands in the correct position to play it. The broken man lifted it up to his lips, which he licked a little and then set the mouthpiece against them. Not half a moment later the sound of an anguished soul poured out and echoed throughout the room.

Today things went smoothly, too smoothly, so that he could finish everything early that afternoon, around six. That should have been a good thing – providing that the previous night never happened. Anthony still could not believe what Sarah had told him. He loved her; that was for certain. But he should be able to accept the fact that she did not love him. She had loved someone else for a long time.

Divorce was never an option to Anthony. He had asked that simply because he did not know what else to say. Anthony was weary all of a sudden, and he sighed as he looked toward the window of his roomy office. No, he did not see the scenery outside for he barely could see anything at this hour in the winter.

Anthony moved as if in a dream. He gathered his papers, pushed them all into his leather sling bag, and left. Inside the car, he still had not decided where he was heading. Streets were bare and stores were lit up but most of them vacant. There was a duplex, a two-story building that was dark on the first level but radiant and jovial above. Even from his car Anthony could hear sounds of laughter coming out of its window.

The man never realized when he pulled up. He only knew that the next thing he did was climb up the stairs, find himself wondering why the door was unlocked, and invite himself in. He only knew that the next thing he heard was the soothing sound of music coming from the piano.

And later on Anthony learned that the lady behind the piano was called Corrie.

The sound of crickets chirping outweighed the soft tunes of Anthony’s trumpet little by little, getting louder and louder as if to show who the real owner of the night was. Anthony’s shoulders sagged, the instrument slowly slipping off his mouth, and he loosely held it beside himself. His heart sank, bleeding.

This was not he wanted to happen. Definitely not.

Hours and days seemed to fly when you enjoyed yourself. And with Corrie by his side, Anthony finally found himself. No longer was he lonely, and the days seemed brighter and warmer to his heart. Anthony went to the place where he met Corrie for the first time almost every night. He loved being there. It was some kind of club but so unlike any regular clubs. It was … more like a place where you could show off your talents (without being paid, though) and enjoy others’.

The night when Anthony saw Corrie playing was her turn to share her expertise. Most of the audience thought she played so poignantly, some even getting teary. But for Anthony, his admiration went beyond her playing. Corrie’s diminutive figure, the gentle sway of her body and limbs, and her pleasant voice made Anthony’s breath catch. And when her translucent green eyes fell onto his, the man swore he finally saw it – peace, security, and a promise that she would be there forever for him. This might sound ridiculous but Anthony knew he had never felt that way before. Never felt as though he had found a piece of himself that had been missing so far. With Sarah he never experienced such a feeling. Or he wouldn’t have given up on her that easily.

Anthony had decided he needed to do something with Sarah’s room. He cleaned it up and packed her things into boxes. Anything. Yet when he set foot in it, he knew he just couldn't do it. No. Not yet. It was still too early. Anthony could still feel her presence and smell her daily perfume, Beleaf.

“I’m not saying it’s cheap perfume, Sarah,” coaxed Anthony when his wife was dressing up for her date with Jan and he was getting ready for a dinner with Corrie. Sarah’s laughter was crisp.

“I know you’re not,” she smiled. “Although it is rather cheap. But what can I say? I like its refreshing fragrance.”

Anthony found that tension had lessened between them ever since he introduced Corrie to Sarah. They could chat almost like friends.

“But of course,” Sarah went on amidst the brief silence. “Corrie always wears expensive perfume.”

Anthony stilled. His fingers stopped in the middle of fixing his bow tie. He whirled around to meet Sarah’s gaze. Anguish shaded her tear-clouded eyes. Anthony sighed, comprehending none of his wife’s erratic moods. Now what could she mean by that? And those tears?

He never saw her again after that. A car crash had taken her away. And despite everything that had happened between them, he knew it hurt him so much to be uncertain about something. Did Sarah still love him?