A weary woman after six years of solitude.
Marie was truly exhausted. She had been living alone for six years, ever since her husband left her. The previous year her daughter got married and moved to another city.
At fortytwo, Marie was still in the prime of her lifea second youth. She ran her household flawlessly and was famous for her tomatopickle concoctions that everyone called a masterpiece. Yet, who could she possibly make them for now? The jars were already stacking up on the balcony, untouched.
I wont wilt in my loneliness, especially not someone as beautiful as me! Marie would tell her friends. They replied, No! Find yourself a husband! There are plenty of single men out there.
One of them suggested a matchmaking service called The Best Husband. Marie thought it sounded a bit absurd and pitiful to turn to an agency. Still, she was fortytwo, a number that made her uneasy. Her grandmothers old clock ticked away, its metallic chime marking the passage of time.
She walked into the agency, where a friendly woman with violet glasses greeted her:
We truly have the finest. Lets look through our database together. Take a seat beside me!
Theyre all certainly handsome, Marie answered with a smile. But how will I know if any of them are right for me?
Thats arranged, the lady replied. Well lend you one for a week. Thats enough time to decide if hes the one or if you should keep looking.
What do you mean lend?
A man will come to live with you for a week. Were not shy like schoolgirls; we get straight to the point. And we have no maniacs or lunatics.
Suddenly, the idea thrilled Marie. Together with the violetglassed lady, she chose five candidates, paid a modest fee, and hurried home. The first suitor was to arrive that very evening.
She slipped into a green dressthe colour of hopeand put on diamond earrings she rarely took out of her old jewelry box.
*Ding!* The doorbell rang.
Marie peeked through the peephole, saw a bouquet of roses, and let out a small gasp of delight. She opened the door; the man was as elegant as his photo.
They sat down to eat; Marie had prepared a feast and placed the bouquet in the middle of the table. Watching her charming guest quietly, she thought, Hes perfect; I dont need anyone else.
They began with the salad, and the prospective husband winced, Why so much salt? Embarrassed, Marie smiled and then served her roast duck. He chewed a piece and remarked, A bit tough He disliked the rest as well. In her rush, Marie had forgotten the most important elementthe wine she had carefully selected. She poured it, saying, To our meeting! He sniffed, took a sip, and declared, What a mediocre wine. He stood up, Lets see your apartment
Marie handed him the bouquet, saying, I dont like roses at all. Goodbye.
That night she shed a few tears; she felt hurt. Yet three more meetings remained.
The second contender arrived the next evening, swaggering in with a Hello! and a scent of vodka. Marie asked, Did you already celebrate our meeting somewhere? He laughed, Come on! Is there a TV here? The PSGMarseille match is starting; we can chat while watching. Marie replied curtly, Youll watch TV at home.
Again, she cried a little that night, alone.
Two days later, the third applicant showed up. He wasnt handsomeold jacket, unkempt nails, mud on his shoes. Marie was already devising a polite way to dismiss him, but she invited him to eat first. He devoured the food quickly, showering Marie with compliments that left her almost bewildered. When she opened a tin, he exclaimed, My God! This is the best Ive ever tasted!
At that moment, her grandmothers clock chimed. The man asked, Whats that metallic clatter? He climbed onto a stool, examined the clock, and said, Ill fix it right away! Do you have tools? Soon the clock rang clearly and beautifully; Marie was thrilled by the sweet sound. She took it as a sign. This notsohandsome fellow might be her husband. He possessed many virtues and handy skills; his shabby shoes and nails were minor flaws easily corrected. Moreover, he was the third candidatean auspicious number.
They were to spend the night together. Marie had prepared, visiting a beauty salon and laying out elegant bedding adorned with large rose patterns (she truly loved roses). When she emerged from the bathroom, her guest was already asleep, dressed. It didnt disturb her. She looked at him tenderly, Youre tired, dear, and slipped under the covers beside him.
Then the nightmare began. The handyman started snoringgrand, powerful snorts. Marie tried covering her head with a pillow, then turning him over; nothing helped. She spent the night awake, suffering.
In the morning, the guest went to the kitchen where a sulky Marie sat. So, what do you think? Shall I move in tonight with my belongings?
Marie shook her head, No, Im sorry. Youre a nice person, but No!
The fourth suitor, bearded, reminded Marie of a hero from an old adventure film. She even let him smoke in the kitchen. After a puff, he declared, Marie, lets be clear from the start. Im a free man. I enjoy fishing, hanging out with friends, and I dont like being bombarded with Where are you? questions. Is that okay?
Marie watched him drop ash into an orchid pot and asked, You also chase after women, right? He smiled, Why not? Im free! Thats normal for a man.
After he left, Marie aired the kitchen for a long time. She had a pounding headache, felt utterly drained, and didnt even wash the dishes.
The next morning she opened her eyes to bright sunshine behind the curtains, sparrows singing cheerfully. She suddenly realized how good she felt. It was Saturday. She wasnt in a rush, no one bothered her, no one snored, no one complained. The dishes? Shed wash them whenever she wanted. Peace and freedom.
Suddenly the phone rang: Hello, Marie! This is the Best Husband agency. We have another candidate for you today, remember? Hes wonderful; hell surely be the right one!
Marie shouted into the receiver, Cross me off! Delete my file! No more! The best husband is the one who doesnt exist! And, laughing, she pulled the curtains wide open.
