A weary woman after six years of solitude.
Marie was truly exhausted. She had been living alone for six years, ever since her husband had left her. The previous year her daughter had married and moved to another city.
At fortytwo, Marie was still in the prime of lifea second youth. She was an excellent homemaker, famed for her tomatopickle preserves that everyone called a masterpiece. Yet, who could she still make them for? The jars already piled on the balcony, untouched.
I wont waste away in my loneliness, especially when Im still so beautiful! Marie would tell her friends. They replied, No! Find a husband! There are plenty of single men out there.
One of them suggested a matchmaking agency called Le Meilleur Époux. Marie thought it a bit absurd and pitiful to turn to an agency, but at fortytwo the number made her uneasy. The old clock her grandmother had left ticked away, its metallic chime marking the passage of time.
Marie walked into the agency, where a kindly lady wearing violet glasses greeted her:
We truly have the best. Lets look together in our database. Sit beside me.
Theyre all handsome, Marie smiled, but how will I know if any of them is right for me?
Thats arranged, the lady answered. Well lend you one for a week. Thats enough time to decide whether hes the one or if you should keep looking.
What do you mean by lend?
Yes, a man will stay with you for a week. Were not shy like schoolgirls; we get straight to the point. And we have no maniacs or lunatics.
Suddenly, Marie was thrilled by the idea. With the violetglasses lady she selected five candidates. Marie paid a modest fee and hurried home. The first candidate was to arrive that very evening.
She slipped into a green dressthe colour of hopeand wore diamond earrings she rarely took out of her old box.
Ding! The doorbell rang.
Marie peeked through the peephole, saw roses, and let out a small gasp of joy. She opened the door; the man was as dashing as his photograph.
They sat down to a meal; Marie had prepared a feast and placed the bouquet in the centre. Watching her charming guest quietly, she thought, Great! No need for anyone else; this one will do.
They began with salad, and the prospective husband winced, Why so much salt? Embarrassed, Marie smiled and served her roasted duck. He chewed a piece, A bit tough. He disliked the rest as well. In her rush, Marie had forgotten the main elementthe wine she had chosen with care. She poured it, saying, To our meeting! He sniffed the glass, took a sip, and remarked, What a mediocre wine. He stood up, Lets see your apartment
Marie handed him the bouquet, I dont like roses at all. Goodbye.
That night she shed a few tears; she was hurt. Yet four more meetings remained.
The second suitor arrived the next evening, swaggering in, Hey! He smelled of vodka. Marie asked, Did you already celebrate our meeting somewhere? He laughed, Come on! Is there a TV here? The PSGMarseille match is about to start. We can chat while we watch. Marie replied curtly, Watch TV at home.
Again she cried a little that night, alone.
Two days later the third candidate appeared. He was not handsome, wore an old jacket, had ragged nails, and mud on his shoes. Marie was already thinking of a polite way to dismiss him, but chose to invite him to dinner first. He ate greedily, quickly, showering Marie with compliments. She was almost bewildered. She opened a tin, and the unattractive man exclaimed, My God! This is the best thing Ive ever tasted!
At that moment her grandmothers clock chimed. The man leaned in, Whats that metallic sound? He climbed onto a stool, examined the clock, Ill fix it fast! Do you have tools? Soon the clock rang clear and sweet, and Marie felt delighted by the sound, taking it as a sign. This unhandsome fellow might be her husbandhe was handy, his shoe and nail issues fixable, and the number three was lucky.
They were to spend the night together. Marie had prepared: she visited a beauty salon, laid out elegant bed linens with large rose patterns (she truly loved roses). When she emerged from the bathroom, her guest was already asleep, fully dressed. It didnt unsettle her. She whispered tenderly, Youre tired, my dear, and slipped under the covers beside him.
Then the nightmare began. The handyman started snoringloudly, powerfully. Marie covered her head with a pillow, he turned overnothing helped. She spent the whole night awake, suffering.
In the morning the guest went to the kitchen where a sullen Marie sat: So, what do you think? Shall I move in tonight with my belongings?
Marie shook her head, No, Im sorry. Youre a good person, but No!
The fourth candidate, bearded, reminded Marie of a hero from old adventure films. 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 love fishing, hanging out with friends, and I dont like being pestered with Where are you? Is that okay?
Marie watched him drop ash into an orchid pot and asked, You also chase women, right? He smiled, Why not? Im free! Thats normal for a man.
After he left, Marie aired the kitchen for a long time. Her head throbbed, she felt utterly exhausted, drained of energy, and didnt even wash the dishes.
The next morning she opened her eyes to sunshine behind the curtains, sparrows singing cheerfully. She suddenly realized how good she felt. It was Saturday. She didnt have to rush anywhere, no one bothered her, no one grumbled, whispered, or snored. The dishes? Shed do them whenever she wanted. Peace and freedom.
Suddenly the phone rang: Hello, Marie! This is the Le Meilleur Époux 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 back the curtains.
