DISHES - by Hannah Rappaport

DISHES

by Hannah Rappaport

Maya and Michael were washing the dishes. Michael was washing the plates, Maya was drying them. While Michael was taking care to scrub every plate thoroughly, Maya seemed to be a little absentminded, ever so often gazing through the window into the late afternoon sky.

“Make sure you dry the plates carefully,” Michael said, not looking up from his side of the sink.

“I am,” Maya responded, who had not been--she had been looking out the window, thinking about things that were now a long time gone.

“Okay, it just didn’t look like you were… very focused,” Michael said, choosing his words carefully, still not looking up at Maya.

After a second when it looked like she might yell, she instead offered him a tight lipped smile. “Why would I be distracted?” When Michael didn’t answer, she seemed almost disappointed. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Thanks,” Michael said, gritting his teeth.

“Please don’t grit your teeth. It makes me anxious,” said Maya.

“Sorry,” said Michael. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Maya said, giving him another thin smile.

“And I’ll stop gritting my teeth,” said Michael. Maya smiled, really smiled, and turned away.

Maya continued to lightly pat the dishes dry. Michael scrubbed harder at a bowl and gritted his teeth.

All of a sudden, Maya looked up. “I think the phone just rang.”

Michael, who had been deep in thought, looked up too. “I didn’t hear anything.” “Well, I did,” Maya said. “I’d better go check.” She hurried out of the room, only to pause and hover by the doorway. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Michael said automatically as Maya ran up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the empty house. He scrubbed the dishes carefully, wondering what things might have been like in some other life. He was only jerked from this fantasy when his hand reached for another dish to wash and felt only empty air. He picked up Maya’s discarded towel and started patting the plates dry.

Maya had yet to appear as Michael finished drying the last of his plates. Still deep in thought, he reached for Maya’s still-wet plates and began to dry them carefully. Maya entered the room then, the phone still in her hand. “I’m back,” she announced, waiting for Michael to inquire about her phone call.

“That was Elaine,” she said pointedly after enough silence had elapsed.

“Oh, really?” said Michael, still drying the plates, who did not know the names of most of Maya’s new friends, and for the most part did not care.

“Yes. I invited her to join us for dinner tonight,” said Maya breezily. When Michael finally looked up, she seemed happy to have finally elicited a response.

“I thought we would just be having dinner alone tonight,” he said, pausing from his job and turning fully to Maya, who had a little smile on her face. “I thought it’d be nice for you to meet Elaine.”

“Well, sure. I just…” Michael trailed off as Maya looked at him expectantly. “You what?”

Michael paused for a moment, then looked back down at his feet. “Never mind,” he said softly, and began gritting his teeth.

“Are you drying my plates?” Maya asked. “I finished those already.”

“Oops,” Michael said. “I didn’t realize.” He pushed the plates further back and stacked them up with the other dry ones.

“Okay, great,” said Maya. “Dinner for three.”

“Great,” Michael said blandly, and they looked at each other for a long time. “I love you,” he said after a while, for the first time really looking into Maya’s eyes. “I love you too,” she said, and then they were both quiet, thinking about a time that was no more.

-----

Michael was sautéeing some spinach and kale. Maya had said Elaine liked vegetables. Maya was setting the large oak table that looked much too big for three people. It had probably been designed for a large family.

“Don’t the forks go on the other side?” said Michael, not looking up from his task.

“Does it matter?” said Maya.

“I want everything to look nice for your guest,” Michael said.

“Our guest,” Maya corrected.

“Right, yeah, that’s what I meant,” Michael said. He turned the heat up and let the vegetables cook in the pan for a few minutes.

Maya slammed a plate down on the table.

“Are you upset? You seem upset,” said Michael. He sprinkled some salt over the vegetables.

Maya took a deep breath and seemed ready to calm herself down. Then she looked at Michael, who wasn’t looking at her, and changed her mind. “Yes,” she decided. “I am upset.”

Michael looked surprised and turned over his shoulder. “Why?”

“Why aren’t you upset?” Maya countered. “It’s barely been a month and you’re just acting like things are fine!”

Behind Michael, the vegetables started to burn. A piece of spinach had shriveled and turned black. Michael looked stunned. He turned away from the vegetables for the first time and looked at the table. “What else am I supposed to do? I’m trying to make this work here, Maya, but I just...I’m doing the best I can.”

“How can you say that when you can’t even look at me anymore?”

“Look at you? What are you talking about?”.

“You don’t look at me anymore. You look past me, through me, around me, but never at me.”

Michael sighed. “I don’t understand. Things were so good before, before…” His voice trailed off. Maya sighed.. “I know. Back then I used to give you everything. But I can’t give you this. I can’t… pretend it didn’t happen.”

A little smoke was coming out of the pan. Neither had noticed.

Michael looked at the floor, then paused and took a step closer to Maya. He touched her hand, but she flinched and pulled away. “We’ll make it work. We have to. We’re a family. And I love you.”

Maya sighed, looking at his outstretched hand and then looking into his eyes. “I--” She hesitated, opening her mouth and then closing it, then touched his hand. “I love you too.”