CtrlC, CtrlV. CtrlC, CtrlV. #14
I squint my eyes, which have become unaccustomed to the brightness. The elevator makes a prolonged buzzing sound and moves upward.
“Oh boy, it’s moving!” I break out into a shout of joy. “It’s a Christmas miracle!”
“I think the miracle was that it stopped,” Jan states and pats my butt. “Get up, Maria. It’s time to finish the report.”
“You are joking, right?”
“I don’t normally make jokes, but now I think I’ve succeeded. Relax those beautiful buttocks of yours because I’m still planning to make use of them tonight.” He smiles and tightens his fingers on my bottom.
Well, there you go, Jan can make a joke once in a blue moon. This is a real miracle.
Something tells me that this will be the best Christmas of my life.
Merry Christmas everyone!
*
As soon as we enter, Jan goes to his office, and I, all on cloud nine, close my computer and pack my things in my purse.
I am just applying lip gloss when my cell phone beeps.
I glance at the screen. Father. It’s about time.
They didn’t even call me earlier. They didn’t ask why I was late, if I was okay, if I was alive.
Now that they’ve probably stuffed themselves and handed each other presents, they’re calling and will act resentful.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Of the two parents, I prefer to talk to my father. He’s not a loving daddy, but he doesn’t stick it to me as often as mother does. He’s definitely the one I prefer to inform that I won’t be spending Christmas with them this year.
“Hi, Dad,” I pick up and say, fully aware that I’m about to hear what a prodigal daughter I am.
“Where are you?” His voice sounds blurred.
Has he already managed to get drunk, or what?
Wonderful. My father is the type of person who could become the face of an in vino veritas campaign.
With his BAC high, his tongue unwinds as easily as a three-year-old’s shoelaces.
Okay, I’ll have to get through this. It’s not for the first time and not for the last.
“I am at work. It’s the reporting period and I have my hands full; I won’t be able to…”
“Mom had a heart attack,” he says, interrupting me mid-sentence.
My legs buckle at the knees and my stomach feels like one big knot. Oh, God. I sit down on the chair.
“How is she?”
“Alive. We are waiting with Arek and Paulinka until someone tells us more.”
Fear grabs me by the throat so tight that words struggle to come out of my mouth:
“Where… where are you?”
“At the ER at Czerniaków Hospital.”
It’s at the other end of the city. Doesn’t matter. I have to get there.
“I will be there as soon as possible. If anything happens, give me a call.”
“Bye.” My father hangs up, resigned, and in a split second I jump to my feet, grab my bag and run to Jan’s office.
“My mother had a heart attack. I have to go to the hospital.” I throw a hasty explanation from the threshold. Jan doesn’t react, just arranges something in a black attaché case—the same one I stumbled over when I left my notice on his desk a few months ago.
“Jan?”
He looks like he is in another reality. He lifts his gaze to me and slowly returns to the here and now.
“Oh, there you are. I have something for you.” He reaches into the suitcase.
“Can we hold off on it until later? My mother is in the hospital. Will you drive me there?”
“Now?”
“No, yesterday. What’s with you?
“Nothing. I just didn’t plan it.” He looks at the inside of the suitcase. What the hell does he keep in there?
“Such things are not planned, Jan. They happen on their own.” I come closer, glance at the contents of the suitcase, and there’s a box of items that look as if they are used for dental torture. “What on earth is this?” I am puzzled because, seriously, this is the first time I’ve seen such a case.
“A watchmaker’s kit,” he replies.
“What?”
He takes a gray plastic lump, cut lengthwise and crosswise in his hand.
“A cube for shortening bracelets.” He puts the instrument down on the desk and reaches for something that resembles an eyelash curler.
“Hand tip puller.” He places it back in the attaché case, then picks up a metal tool that looks like a circular cube with the face of a little green man.
“A wrench for opening lids. Incredibly precise. I don’t understand how some people can use a caliper.
” He looks at the piece of metal as if it were a miracle of nature.
Jesus, what is he talking to me about? I don’t have time for that.
“Okay, Jan, I’d love to see the rest of your toys, but another time. I have to go to my mother. It’s Christmas Eve, and she’s in the hospital.”
He raises his eyes at me.
“Right.” He puts down the instrument. “Speaking of Christmas Eve, I have something for you.” He reaches into his attaché case for an elegant light wooden box and hands it to me.
“What is it?” I ask, surprised.
“See for yourself.”
Damn, I really don’t have time for this, but curiosity gets the better of me…
I open the heavy lid and hold my breath.
A stunning ladies’ watch sits on velour black material, and I am literally struck by its beauty.
A small, silver-plated square dial, a bracelet composed of dozens of tiny pearls.
I know absolutely nothing about watches, but this one looks exclusive and extremely expensive.
“Jan, this is…” Words fail me.
“Chanel Mademoiselle. Eighteen-carat white gold bracelet set with one hundred and twenty-two pearls, weight: fifty-seven grams, dial dimensions: point seven by point seven of an inch; envelope dimensions: point nine by point nine of an inch; bracelet circumference: six point three inches, width: point two of an inch.
I was not able to resize it until today. You have a very slim wrist.
“What?” I look at him, confused.
“Your wrist.” He reaches out and embraces it with his fingers.
“It is slim. I had to shorten the bracelet.” I look at his hand and am reminded of the exact same way he grabbed my hand in the employee lounge when I wanted to take his Panthenol.
And when he stopped me at the window when I wanted to leave to hide my tears from him.
Holy shit. My head is swimming. This is too much.
“I can’t accept it.”
“Why?”
“It looks like it’s worth a fortune.”
“It was a steal. I bought it six months ago for six thousand dollars.”
“Six thousand dollars for a watch?”
“The one who sold it was a fool. In fact, it was enough to clean the mechanism, reassemble it, oil it and adjust the movement. Plus, the cosmetic work applied to the bracelet and the envelope, and it’s like new.
Now its value has doubled. Let me help you fasten it.
” He takes the box from my hand and takes out the watch.
“No.” I take my hand away.
“Would you rather do it yourself?”
“No, I mean…” I rub my forehead. God, this is not the right time for this kind of thing. “Jan, I can’t do this right now. I’m really in a hurry to see my mother, besides, I don’t wear watches.”
“I noticed that you don’t wear one, so I thought it would be a perfect gift.
If you don’t like this one, you can choose another.
I have some interesting collections at home: Frederique Constant, Ball, Versace, Omega, Junghans,” he lists them with such an involved enthusiasm that it occurs to me—he is really crazy about watches.
Which, all in all, shouldn’t surprise me, since I would often see a different model on him.
Apparently, watchmaking is a hobby of his that I had no idea about.
But now is not the time to learn about Jan’s passions. I have more important things to do!
“Jan, this is not a good time,” I interrupt his enumeration. “Let’s postpone it until later.”
He looks at me confused.
“Why?”
What the fuck, is he serious?
“Because my mother had a heart attack and I want to go to see her in the hospital.” My nerves are starting to fray.
Jan looks at me with such a gaze, as if the meaning of my words does not reach him.
“But you did say you were not fond of her,” he replies quite seriously.
My eyes go wide.
“Well, right, but she is my mother. Things may not be well between us, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m worried about her. Do I really need to explain this to you?”
“Yes.”
I am about to choke.
“What do you mean?”
“Explain to me why you feel the need to go to the hospital to a mother you don’t like,” he says seriously.
I look at him completely stunned. The level of his empathy, or more precisely, his total lack of it, scares me. After all, it’s obvious why I should go to her, can’t he see that?
“Because she’s my mother, dammit! Because decency dictates so, because I would be consumed with remorse if I didn’t visit her, and on fucking Christmas Eve!
” My voice trembles. “Maybe if I had been at my parents’ house during dinner, nothing would have happened to her?
Maybe she was upset by my absence and her heart couldn’t take it?
” I tear up. “Can’t you empathize with my situation and understand that I have to go to her? ”
Jan is watching me closely. I can see by the expression on his face that he is analyzing my words. Seconds pass until he finally speaks in a subdued voice, “No.”
“No what?”
“I can’t get a feel for it and can’t understand it.
” He puts the watch in the box, arranges it in the case, then closes it with a clatter.
“I’ll take you to your mother, though, if you care so much,” he adds, and it occurs to me that I wasn’t wrong about him earlier: Jan is a damn selfish person.
One hundred percent logic, zero empathy.