Page 31 of Malliko
The thought of getting to study Clara as a subject matter excited me. It wasn't hard to find evidence of the physical act of breeding between humans, but as a speciologist I was more interested in their thoughts and feelings connected to the action. By being part of the exploration of Clara’s sexuality from the early stages of picking out a male, to watching it happen, and to talk to her afterward and hear her thoughts on it, would be a unique chance to get insider information.
With a serious facial expression and tone of voice, I assured her, “The offer still stands.”
“Good.” There was a small smile on her face as Clara began working.
The next hours felt long. My highlights were some interesting conversations about some of the profiles, and my visit to the innovation department to finalize the questions they were allowing me to ask their users.
Around noon, Clara came to find me and declared that it was time for us to go and have some lunch. “There's a Hungarian restaurant not far from here where I go to sometimes if I want to eat lunch alone. It's not very popular and there typically aren't a lot of people.”
“Lead the way,” I said and followed her out of the office and down the maze of stalls where people sat talking on the phone and typing on computers. A younger woman whom I had talked to in the hallways a few times, turned in her chair when we walked past her and called out to us, “Oh hey, are you guys doing lunch? Can I come? I didn't have breakfast and I'm starving.”
Clara didn't stop. Placing a hand on my elbow, she nudged me forward as she answered her colleague over her shoulder, “Today won’t work, but we can do lunch tomorrow.”
Sending the woman a smile, I noticed how she looked me up and down, and I wondered if my disguise as a human was somehow off.
“This way.” Opening a door, Clara led me to a staircase and descended at a fast pace that made the click-clack sounds from her high heels bounce against the walls.
“I think that woman back there was disappointed that she couldn't come.” My comment was merely an observation, but it made Clara slow down her steps and turn her head to look at me.
“Feel free to go back and ask Lucinda out for lunch instead of me. If you would rather pretend to be in an open relationship with her, then be my guest. But I should warn you that, from the way she was eyeing you like she wanted you for lunch, I don'tthink she would be satisfied with the pretend part. I've worked with Lucinda for three years and I can count on one finger the number of times she's asked to go to lunch with me. Normally, she doesn't even speak to me.” By now Clara had stopped walking.
I continued down until I was standing one step lower than her. Still taller, I looked into her eyes. Only now did I understand that the biggest change this morning had been that Clara’s guardedness from the other day had been less intense. As I watched her more closely, the same guardedness that I’d seen every time I asked her personal questions was back. I made sure to look into her eyes and sound genuine when I said, “I prefer to have lunch with you.”
Her shoulders eased a little, and then Clara gave a tiny nod of her head and continued down the stairs.
Once we reached the busy street, she pointed to an alley. “The restaurant is down this way, which explains why it’s less visited. Few people know about it.”
Walking past trash cans, we reached an open door with a sign above it that said Restaurant Petrova. Clara had been right when she said that this place wasn't busy, because out of the eleven tables only three were occupied.
I enjoyed the smells of Hungarian spices, sausages, and freshly cooked bread. The tables were covered in red and white checkered cloths, and the walls were adorned with Hungarian folk art.
Clara steered me toward the table in the far corner and sat down. I gave sideways glances to the occupied tables to see what kind of food to expect here. There were plates of what looked to be a beef stew, some roasted vegetables, and a basket of bread.
Placing her handbag on the chair next to her, Clara waited for me to take a seat.
A dark-haired, skinny waitress brought us two glasses of water and menus. While I picked up the menu and read the contents, Clara didn’t touch hers.
“Are you not eating?” I asked her.
“I already know that I want. Their goulash is good.”
“Then I'll have one of those as well.”
Gesturing for the waitress, Clara gave the order and then she sat back in her chair with her hands fiddling with the napkin in front of her. It wasn't hard to see that she was nervous.
“Can I ask what made you change your mind and accept my offer?” I asked.
As she chewed on her lower lip, her gaze darted around the room until it settled on me for a brief second before she looked down. “I haven't decided if I'm really going through with it or not. But... after thinking about it last night, it appeared to me that for many years I've been avoiding any sort of intimacy and closeness because I've been... scared.”
“You said it yourself, with your job you are more aware of creeps than most people.”
Scratching her chin, she moved her hand to her cheek. With her elbow on the table, she let her head rest on the heel of her palm while her fingers curled up and hid her lips. “It's not just that. If I'm honest, then the part about dating again that scares me the most is meeting someone I fall madly in love with. I've been burned before, and I know that one moment everything can seem fine and then the next you realize that you didn't even know the person. Everything you believed in was just a lie and in my case, I was left financially ruined and with a broken heart. But worst of all I lost custody of my children because at the time of the divorce, I didn't have a place to stay, and my ex-husband was making a lot more money than I did. I could fight the ruling of course, but it would take a lot of money to hire a lawyer and with my ex having a network of attorneys and being one himself,I don't think I would ever win.” Her shoulders sank and she took a deep breath.
I wasn't sure what to say. If Clara had asked for advice on how to protect herself in case she got physically assaulted, I could have given her instructions. But when it came to relationships between humans, I had nothing to offer.
“I know what you're going to say, and you're right of course. It takes two to get a divorce, but for the record I wasn't the one who cheated. I'll admit that our sex life wasn't very interesting the last few years, or maybe ever, but that wasn't just on me.”
I listened and nodded.
