CtrlC, CtrlV. CtrlC, CtrlV. #11
I’m biting the cuticle on my thumb. These few holes are supposed to give us the right amount of oxygen?
Jan apparently notices my anxiety because he speaks up a bit more softly,
“Calm down, Maria.”
“Calm down is the most annoying phrase in the world,” I growl.
“Nothing is happening.”
“Nothing’s happening, right? We’re stuck in the elevator, Jan! I don’t know how often something like this happens to you, but for me it’s the first time.”
“For me as well.”
“At least we agree on something.” I rub my forehead with my hand as I feel the fatigue of this whole day swallowing me whole.
I sit down opposite Jan, stretch my legs out in front of me and glance at the camera.
“Surveillance isn’t working. Maybe the security guard will figure out that something is wrong since there will be no video from the elevator?”
“There is a good chance for that. Just try to wait patiently. Someone will surely help us.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” I lean my head against the wall.
Silence creeps up on us, which extends from a few seconds into several minutes, or even longer?
The all-around twilight induces drowsiness.
I yawn and snuggle into the collar of my jacket.
I try not to look at Jan, but it’s hard to avoid his gaze when he looks at me.
Besides, we are sitting in a can, facing each other, so what am I supposed to look at, his shoes?
It’s normal that his face attracts my gaze, especially since even in the twilight, he looks damn gorgeous.
Maria, remember, Jan is a total asshole. He told you to finish some dumb report, even though he knew perfectly well that you were in a hurry for Christmas Eve supper. It was as if the calculations were a matter of life and death.
“Why is this report so important?” I ask.
“It’s an annual summary for the client. Our company exists because of our clients, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I have not forgotten; just what kind of nutty client needs a report during Christmas? Aren’t such statements sent at the end of the year?”
“They are,” he replies, not taking his eyes off me.
I squint. Wait, what’s going on?
“Then why couldn’t I finish it after Christmas?”
A low murmur is my only an answer. He looks away.
Something is not right.
“Jan, why does this report have to be finished today?”
He gives me a hard stare.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
I gape my mouth. Doesn’t have to be? Shit.
“Okay, Jan, that’s it. Spill it. I want you to answer some questions for me.”
“I don’t like such games.”
“This will not be a game, but a mature conversation between two adults. Therefore, you will either participate or I will continue to consider you a boor.”
Jan’s eyes drill hard into me. In the twilight, they are the color of the sea abyss.
“So ask.”
Well, now we’re talking. Where would I start so that I don’t mess around, but get an answer to my most pressing question?
“What are you doing at work on Christmas Eve?”
“I am working.”
“Sure. But why are you working when all the other people are getting ready for Christmas and spending this time with loved ones?”
“I have nothing to look forward to. My relatives are far away.”
“Clarify.”
“My father is in Mallorca with his mistress. And my sister, who is twenty years younger, is away with her boyfriend and friends.”
“You mentioned the father, but what about the mother?”
“She died twelve years ago.”
Damn! I probably crossed the line with that one.
“I’m sorry.”
“My turn.” He crosses his outstretched legs at the ankles. “What are you doing at work on Christmas Eve?” he repeats my question, and I involuntarily smile.
“I was the one who was supposed to ask questions.”
“Answer.”
“I am working.”
“Why are you working when all other people are getting ready for Christmas and spending this time with loved ones?”
I snort.
“You’re copying my questions. Can’t you come up with your own?”
“Answer. Why are you working today?”
“Because you told me to.”
“You could have taken a day off.”
“As you yourself were cute to notice, I no longer have days off I could use.”
“You could have taken an unpaid one.”
“Which you would have denied.”
“Right. You could have taken sick leave.”
“So you could unleash the Social Insurance Office on me? No, thank you.”
Jan shakes his head.
“No one from the Social Insurance Office would audit you because of one day and come to you on Christmas Eve, and you know it well. That’s why I’ll ask for the third time: why are you working when all the other people are getting ready for Christmas and spending this time with their loved ones, Maria?
Why aren’t you preparing Christmas Eve supper with your mother, why aren’t you decorating the Christmas tree with your father? ”
I clench my teeth. I’m mad at him for asking about that specifically.
I have it coming. I started it myself. I know I don’t have to answer, to spill my guts and open up before him.
Still, the words flow out of my mouth on their own, as if I need to finally spit out what hurts me so much. To cleanse myself.
“Because I don’t like spending time with my family. Because they consider me a total failure. Because they would rather have another son instead of me, who would be an exact replica of my brother, making a ton of money from selling cars at a car dealership.”
Jan looks at me for a long time.
“No wonder you don’t like them. They don’t know your worth,” he says quite seriously. I did not expect such a nice answer from him.
“Thanks, Jan,” I say with a slight smile and am already rushing to ask him my own question, since we have strayed a bit from the topic. “Now you tell me, when must the report I’ve been sitting on for a week be turned in?”
“Soon.”
Smartypants.
“Right. By what day?”
He moves his hand to the nape of his neck, but does not take his eyes off me. I see confusion in his gaze.
Shit, is it me, or is he floundering? Jan’s floundering is something to behold.
“Jan, answer me, please.”
He inhales and exhales hard.
“By the tenth of January.”
“By when?!”
I’m about to hit him.
“By the tenth of January.”
“I don’t believe it. Are you serious? Why then did you make me stay today to finish it?” I have to ask directly.
He no longer flinches. He sits confidently, looks me straight in the eyes and answers in a firm voice, “Because I wanted to spend the evening with you.”
Holy shit. Holy shit!
Well, I am stunned. My heart is beating so hard and fast that I can feel it all over my body. Jan, you idiot! Couldn’t you have said it right away? And I dumped on him so mercilessly. What a bitch I am, to say the least! The crushing weight of remorse is heavy on my chest.
Jan does not take his eyes off me, as if he’s waiting for me to say something. And I can’t get a single word out. My heart is hammering so hard that my veins are about to explode. I take a few quiet breaths. I can’t believe it. Or maybe this is all just another fucked-up dream?
God, please don’t let this be a dream. I pinch my hand so hard that I jerk. This is really happening, this…
“Are you going to say something?” Jan gives me a piercing look.
Say something? Of course, just let me catch my breath. I clear my throat. I hear my voice. Hoarse, but it’s there.
“Why didn’t you ask me directly if I would stay?” My voice is breaking up. My heart’s pounding is deafening.
“Because you would have refused.”
“How do you know?”
“And would you like to spend the evening at the office, with me? Without all that family love affair with mushroom soup, carp, cheesecake and carols?”
“I don’t like cheesecake.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know, but we could have avoided this circus and just gone to a restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner. Just like normal people. There are plenty of options this evening for those who don’t want to have dinner at home, make dumplings and set the table.
Be sure, though, to know I certainly wouldn’t take you to my folks.
I wouldn’t put up with the series of humiliations my parents would inflict on me if you were sitting next to me. ”
“I do not celebrate the traditional Christmas Eve, Maria.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Are you of a different religion?”
“No. It’s just…” He moves his hands over his face. “I’m not fond of Christmas.”
“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last,” I reply casually, although I can see from his expression that it’s about more than just Christmas fever and agonizing over family gatherings. “Is there a specific reason?”
He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall. You don’t have to be a psychologist with a degree to figure out that something is bothering him. That he associates Christmas with something unpleasant.
Gosh, I haven’t seen such a Jan yet. Sad to see him like that.
“Are you feeling all right?”
He opens his eyes, then, to my surprise, lifts the corners of his mouth slightly.
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange to ask a cold fish from a cemetery pond how it feels?”
God, heckled me with this one. But I deserved it.
“I am sorry for that one. I didn’t mean it.”
“You did.”
“Well, all right, I did. But only because you pissed me off. Couldn’t you just be honest with me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I care about you.”
My heart leaps. A wave of heat hits me. Christ, does he realize what he just said? After all, I’m going to have a heart attack right here and right now!
I clear my throat. I have such a lump in my throat that I can barely swallow.
“Wait, because I got confused.” I rub my forehead. It is damp. I’m sweating like a pig. “You care about me, so you decided to trick me?”
“I care about you, that’s why I didn’t want you to go.”
Geez, what a twisted line of reasoning. What does he mean?
“Only I wouldn’t have gone at all. I would have stayed with you,” I confess.
“Why?”