Milk(5)

            —It all sounds a little rash, I said.

            —We’ve got to turn left up here.

            We turned from the heavily congested road and onto a quiet street with a speed bump and three-story houses on either side. There was a Laundromat, an old-fashioned greengrocer, and a second-hand store.

            Jakob pointed at a white building on the corner.

            —It’s over here.

            I pulled the emergency brake and remained in the van. Jakob had already opened the door.

            —It looks like a nice neighborhood, I said.



            When we had carried everything upstairs, we each sat on a box in the middle of the apartment’s largest room.

            —I don’t know, I said. Have I ever told you why I got divorced from my first wife?

            —I don’t think so, Jakob said.

            I took a swig from my beer.

            —It’s an odd story, actually.

            Jakob tipped his bottle to his mouth and closed his eyes as he drank.

            —I happened to read her diary.

            I set my eyes directly on Jakob.

            —Most of what was in it was relatively banal. I remember that I thought: have I really married a woman who writes so badly? The way she formulated her ideas was so clumsy, I thought, almost childlike. Here and there she had made little drawings, a grumpy face, a happy face. But I kept reading.

            Jakob looked down at his shoes.

            —And that’s how I discovered that she’d had an affair. As far as I could tell, it was over, but I was furious and beside myself and didn’t know what to do. At the same time, I was pretty embarrassed that I’d found her out in that way.

            I paused, and Jakob rose and walked to the window.

            —I just got my things together and moved out.

            Jakob stood a moment looking out; then he turned around. He blushed slightly. He had a vertical crease between his brows, which I recognized from myself.

            I could feel the warmth rising to my cheeks and lowered my eyes to a spot in the middle of his chest.

            I stood and went to him. I put my arm around his back and squeezed him. I could see all the way to the street where the van was parked.

            —Listen, Jakob said, and worked himself free. I’m the one who’s the asshole here. It’s me who’s found someone else.

            I looked at him.

            —Oh.

            I stood there for a moment, staring at the roof of the van. Then I pulled myself away and went back to the box and sat down.

            —Tell me, I said.

            —There’s not much to tell. She’s sweet. Dorthe is her name. But it’s pretty new. I’ve only known her for three weeks. There’s not much to tell.

            —Okay.

            I finished my beer, and a moment later I stood to leave.

            —Oh my, I said.

            —It’s all right, Jakob said and smiled.



            Iwalked to the van. It was parked underneath a tall chestnut tree, and a green chestnut lay on the roof. I stood on my tippy-toes and clutched it carefully. I turned and glanced up at the apartment. Jakob stood in the window talking on the telephone; he raised his right arm and ran his hand through his hair. I raised mine and waved.