The Rhythm of Memory (36 page)

That was irrelevant now. After all, Octavio no longer tried to seduce her. He had given up. He no longer slept against her, nestled into her prominent hipbones, his fingers reaching to clasp hers.

Now, he slept with his back toward her, his face stuffed into his pounded pillow, one of his legs half out of the blanket.

She wondered if he would even show a shred of emotion when she packed up his things and asked him to leave. She wondered if
he would beg her to take him back and let him try to make things anew.

But she didn’t care, one way or the other. For once in her life, she was ready to put herself first. However, she had to admit, she was curious. She wondered if he would see the irony in her decision.

V
ESTERÅS
, S
WEDEN

M
ARCH
1975

Samuel awakened the next morning and got dressed in a hurry. His mind was racing, and his stomach was full of knots. All he could think about was getting to the office. He was desperate to meditate over the events of the previous evening—he needed a few hours before his first patient arrived and his day was spent listening to problems that were not his own. He took one quick glance in the mirror and noticed that, in his haste, he had buttoned his shirt incorrectly.
I’m a mess
, he thought to himself.
I have to get ahold of myself.
As he went to readjust his shirttails, he noticed that his fingers were still shaking.

“Just get yourself to the office as quickly as you can,” he told himself firmly. He slipped on his tweed blazer, threaded and straightened his tie, and bounded down the stairs. But the last person he wanted to see was already waiting for him at the base of the banister.

Kaija stood there, wrapped in her cotton robe with her eyelet nightgown peeking through, smiling up at him with coffee in hand.

“I’ve made you a cup of your favorite blend,” she said sweetly. Little Sabine was tugging at the hem of her mother’s robe.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he responded with great delicacy. “That’s really kind of you, but I’ve got a day full of appointments and some
files I need to look over first. I just don’t have time.” He was already placing one of his arms in the sleeve of his coat.

“Will you be home for dinner on time?”

“I hope so, darling,” he murmured as, in one continuous motion, he mindlessly wrapped his scarf around his neck and bent down to retrieve his satchel. “I hope to be home by seven.”

“I’d like to talk to you about something,” she tried to tell him as he turned to say good-bye to her and Sabine. “It’s rather important, Samuel…” But she stopped midsentence. He was already halfway out the door.

She shook her head and picked up her daughter.

“Can you believe it,
älskling?
” she whispered as she kissed the child’s soft cheek. “I think we need to make an appointment with your daddy at the office. Otherwise he doesn’t have time to listen to us!” The little girl giggled. Kaija went back into the kitchen and poured the still warm mug of coffee down the drain.

Samuel hesitated as he reached deep into his pants pocket to retrieve the keys to his office. The events of yesterday evening still weighed heavily on his mind.

The room seemed strangely warm to him. He had left without straightening it, and as he scanned the furniture and the top of his desk, he could immediately see how things were displaced. His tall leather chair was not pushed neatly under the desktop, but rather was slightly off-angled in the direction of his bookshelves. His papers were amiss and his penholder had tipped to the side. And then there was the picture of his wife and daughter. That too had fallen over. It now lay flat, portrait side down, each of their delicate faces pressed against the mahogany wood.

Everything seemed strange to him now. Samuel could still not
believe that, only a few hours before, he had sat in this very chair and passionately made love to a woman who was not his wife. Even worse, a patient of his. Someone who clearly needed his help, not his affection.

But making love to her had been a powerful experience for him. She was such a passionate woman, and if he closed his eyes again, he could imagine her calves locking around his knees, her bottom sealed against his thighs. He was afraid even to reflect on the memory, for he feared that, if he recalled the events of yesterday evening, it would unleash his desire to do it again.

Samuel had been with only a handful of other women before Kaija, and none of them had brought out this hungry and lustful side of him. He would never have believed before last night’s incident that he was capable of such a thing. Clearly he was, but with Kaija he often felt that she was so fragile that his attraction to her was tempered by his yearning to protect her. With Salomé, it was different. It was as if she had refused to let herself be coddled or merit sympathy; she just wanted to feel like a beautiful and sensual woman again.

Samuel tried self-diagnosis. “You need to stop seeing your wife as your mother. You need to work on your marriage and make sure that you can communicate with your wife. You don’t want to lose what you have with Kaija just because Salomé has awakened something inside you that you didn’t before know existed.”

Samuel wanted to make things better between Kaija and himself. He wanted to be able to love her in every way he was capable of. Tenderly, passionately, and completely. He did not want to sneak around cheating on his wife, fulfilling fantasies to satiate his libido at the expense of his family.

He wanted to be good. He wanted to be devoted. He had spent his entire life trying to be a trustworthy, compassionate husband
and a loving father. He had always aspired to be the type of man that his own mother had never had. He wanted to take care of those who were in pain.

But now, he realized he had another side to him. He had almost been wolfish when he’d made love to Salomé. He had been so hungry to have her. To make love to her and grasp her tightly, slipping himself in so that he was completely enveloped by her. And he knew, if he was truly honest with himself, that he wished he could have both Kaija and Salomé.

He withdrew one of his pens from the canister and nervously tapped it on his desk. His eyes met those of Kaija and Sabine, framed within a matted border of paper and lacquered wood.

He placed the pen down on his desk and reached for the photograph, bringing it closer to view. He smiled as he thought about the day it was taken, on Midsummer’s eve last year when he and Kaija had taken Sabine to see the city’s maypole. Kaija had made matching white dresses for her and Sabine and woven garlands from wild daisies for their hair. Samuel took the photograph just as his two girls had finished dancing. They had rushed toward him, their cheeks flushed and rosy, their eyes sparkling in the crisp, summer light.

Until yesterday evening, Kaija had seemed so unlike that bundle of joy and energy that the photograph had captured.

He would not let himself indulge in the obvious excuse and blame her for pushing him away over the past few months. For making him feel vulnerable and empty, for craving someone who could satisfy his need to be appreciated and loved. He was too honest with himself to take the easy way out. He realized that no one was to blame for his infidelity except himself. Even Salomé
could not be judged as harshly as he deserved to be. After all, she was a patient with traumas he would never personally experience. A wounded woman, trapped in a strained marriage, in need of his guidance and expertise.

She was in a fragile state of mind, but he had allowed himself to believe she was his equal. How selfishly he had acted! Salomé was obviously aching for someone to see and embrace her as a complete woman. Samuel should have been focusing on her treatment, so that she realized that she had to embrace herself before anyone else—her husband or any other man—could make her feel whole again.

But he knew how tempting such a situation could be. All he had to do was close his eyes and think of Salomé mounting him as she had done only hours before, and all reason and ethics seemed to vanish from his head.

Samuel stood up and fumbled for the small radio he kept in a drawer for moments like these when he was under stress. He plugged it in and readjusted the antenna, and the sound of classical music floated through the air. It was already 9
A.M
., and in nearly an hour, his first patient would arrive. Samuel placed his head between his palms and balanced his elbows on the table. He had to get a grip on himself. He had to put things in perspective. He cared about Salomé. She was his patient and he wanted her to heal. He was also deeply attracted to her, but not enough to leave his wife and child. The result was obvious then. He would inform Salomé when she came to her appointment on Thursday that they had each made a terrible mistake. He would apologize as her doctor for his poor judgment and suggest that she find another therapist who was more objective. He would never tell his wife of his
indiscretion, as it would only hurt her, possibly even destroy her, and he would rededicate himself to his marriage and his family.

If it were only that easy. Even if Kaija were never to discover his betrayal, he would have to live with it. And he knew no one would judge him harder than Samuel Rudin himself.

V
ESTERÅS
, S
WEDEN

M
ARCH
1975

Samuel returned home later that evening, exhausted. The emotional intensity of the past day and a half was wearing him down. He wanted to lock himself in his office forever and never face any of the women he had wronged. He especially dreaded facing the warm, soft eyes of his wife.

The low, golden lights of his doorstep finally beckoned him. He slowly trudged down the pathway and rummaged for his house keys.

He walked through the door and discovered Kaija standing patiently in front of the banister, just as he had found her that morning. Obviously, by the look on her face, she had been waiting for him for some time.

“It’s half past eight, Samuel. I’ve been waiting for you since seven o’clock.”

He tried to muster an apology, but his fatigue betrayed him. He unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the hook by the door.

“I’ve made your favorite, lamb and new potatoes.” This time she spoke a bit louder than her usual voice, to ensure that he was listening.

“That sounds delicious. Hard day at the office.” He stretched his back. “Would you mind if I took it upstairs? I still have some work to do.”

“Actually, I would, Samuel.” Her tone was unusually firm for her. “I told you this morning that I had something important to tell you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, trying to be as agreeable as he could. He was already silently chiding himself for being so remiss about Kaija’s simple request, given his pledge from this morning to be a better husband.

“What do you need to talk to me about? Is it important? Shall I sit down?” He was now overcompensating by lavishing his attention on her.

“Let’s talk over our supper. I’ve already put Sabine to bed.”

Samuel nodded. He went into the bathroom, washed his hands, then walked into the dining room, where he found the table set with their best dishes and sterling, two candles burning midtaper.
She must have lit them over an hour ago
, he thought, once again feeling bad that he had failed to be home on time.

He ate his dinner and remarked how the meat had been cooked to perfection, and how the asparagus was a wonderful reminder of spring.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I’ve been a bit beside myself lately,” she said over the meal. “I know that you noticed that I was not myself, but I didn’t feel strong enough to tell you why.” She paused for a second and took a sip of water, then carefully blotted her lips with the linen napkin.

He looked up at his wife and felt himself getting choked up. She was so delicate sitting there, across from him. Her skin so translucent that he felt he could see right through her.
How
, he thought,
could I have done anything to hurt this wonderful woman? How could I have been such a selfish beast, that I could have forgotten who it is that I love?

“What is it, Kaija?” He was beginning to grow alarmed.

She paused again. As he stared at his wife across the table, he could see the tension and the fear in her finely boned face. Her small, white hands nervously fingered the border of the tablecloth.

She took one final exhale, then said quietly, “Samuel, I’m afraid we won’t be able to have any other children besides Sabine.” She was trying hard not to cry, but her voice was already wavering. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes. “Samuel”—Kaija’s voice was now barely audible—“I’m so very, very sorry.”

He sat there for several seconds, stunned, before he could respond. “Kaija, what do you mean? What’s happened?”

“I went to the doctor nearly eight weeks ago. I was feeling fine. Really. Actually I was feeling better than fine…I thought I was pregnant.” She was crying a bit louder now, and Samuel had to concentrate to hear her words through her sobs.

“Anyway, they did some tests, which revealed that I wasn’t pregnant at all. But that I’m actually going through early menopause.”

“An early menopause?” Samuel was in shock. He couldn’t believe what his wife was saying. “But, darling, you’re so young! How can that be?”

“I know. I know.” Her face was now red and streaked with lines where her tears had fallen.

From across the table, Samuel could see that his wife was shaking. How stupid he had been not to realize that something was deeply troubling his wife these past couple of months. When she needed him most, he had abandoned her for another! His mind suddenly flashed to the memory of Salomé and him embracing in the rain, and Samuel felt himself overcome with remorse.

He tried to compose himself. He took a deep breath and tried
to refocus his thoughts on the immediate needs of his wife. “It doesn’t matter, Kaija. None of this matters at all. I love you more than anything.” She was not listening to him, however. He looked up and saw that her head was shaking from side to side, her face pressed into her palms.