Lessons in Chemistry
- Автор: Garmus Bonnie
- Год: 2022
- Язык: английский
- Год: Doubleday Canada
- Жанр: Современная русская и зарубежная проза
Электронная книга - «Lessons in Chemistry». Краткое содержание книги:
Elizabeth shook her head. “Our future happiness does not depend on whether or not we’re married, Calvin — at least not to me. I’m fully committed to you; marriage will not change that. As for who thinks what, it’s not just a handful of people: it’s society — particularly the society of scientific research. Everything I do will suddenly be in your name, as if you’d done it. In fact, most people will assume you’ve done it simply because you’re a man, but especially because you’re Calvin Evans. I don’t want to be another Mileva Einstein or Esther Lederberg, Calvin; I refuse. And even if we took all the proper legal steps to ensure my name won’t change, it will still change. Everyone will call me Mrs. Calvin Evans; I will become Mrs. Calvin Evans. Every Christmas card, every bank statement, every notice from the Bureau of Internal Revenue will all come to Mr. and Mrs. Calvin Evans. Elizabeth Zott, as we know her, will cease to exist.”
“And being Mrs. Calvin Evans is absolutely the worst thing that could ever happen to you,” he said, his face collapsed in misery.
“I want to be Elizabeth Zott,” she said. “It’s important to me.”
—
They sat for a minute in uncomfortable silence, the hateful little blue box plopped between them like a bad referee at a tight match. Against her will, she found herself wondering what the ring looked like.
“I really am sorry,” she repeated.
“Not a problem,” he said stiffly.
She looked away.
—
“They’re breaking up!” Eddie hissed to the others. “They’re going straight down the tubes!”
Shit, Frask thought. Zott’s back on the market.
—
Except Calvin couldn’t let it go. Thirty seconds later, completely oblivious to the dozens of pairs of eyes resting upon them, he said in a voice far louder than he’d intended, “For the love of god, Elizabeth. It’s just a name. It doesn’t matter. You’re you—that’s what matters.”
“I wish that were true.”
“It is true,” he insisted. “What’s in a name? Nothing!”
She looked up with sudden hope. “Nothing? Well in that case, what about changing your name?”
“To what?”
“To mine. To Zott.”
He looked at her in astonishment, then rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he said.
“Well, why not?” Her voice had an edge.
“You already know why not. Men don’t do that. Anyway, there’s my work, my reputation. I’m…” He hesitated.
“What?”
“I’m…I’m…”
“Say it.”
“Fine. I’m famous, Elizabeth. I can’t just change my name.”
“Oh,” she said. “But if you weren’t famous, then changing your name to mine would be fine. Is that what you mean?”
“Look,” he said, grabbing the small blue box. “I get it. I didn’t make this tradition; it’s just the way things are. When women get married, they take their husband’s name, and ninety-nine point nine percent of them are fine with it.”
“And you have some sort of study to back up this assertion,” she said.
“What?”
“That ninety-nine point nine percent of women are fine with it.”
“Well, no. But I’ve never heard any complaints before.”
“And the reason why you can’t change your name is because you’re famous. Although ninety-nine point nine percent of men who aren’t famous also happen to keep their names.”
“Again,” he said, stuffing the small box in his pocket with such force that the fabric gave way at the corner. “I didn’t create the tradition. And as I stated earlier, I am—was—in full support of you keeping your name.”
“Was.”
“I don’t want to marry you anymore.”
Elizabeth sat back hard.
—
“Game, set, match!” crowed one of the geologists. “Box is back in the pocket!”
—
Calvin sat fuming. It had already been a tough day. Just that morning, he’d gotten a bunch of new crank letters, most from people purporting to be long-lost relatives. This wasn’t unusual; ever since he’d gotten a little famous, the flimflam artists wrote en masse. A “great uncle” wanted Calvin to invest in his alchemy scheme; a “sad mother” claimed she was his biological mother and wanted to give him money; a so-called cousin needed cash. There were also two letters from women claiming they’d had his baby and he needed to pay up now. This was despite the fact that the only woman he’d ever slept with was Elizabeth Zott. Would this ever end?
“Elizabeth,” he implored, as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Please understand. I want us to be a family— a real family. It’s important to me, maybe because I lost my family— I don’t know. What I do know is that ever since I met you, I’ve felt there should be three of us. You, me, and a…a…”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide in horror. “Calvin,” she said in alarm, “I thought we agreed about that, too.”
“Well. We’ve never really talked about it.”
“No, we have,” she pressed. “We definitely have.”
“Just that once,” he said, “and it wasn’t really a talk. Not really.”
“I don’t know how you can say that,” she said, panicked. “We absolutely agreed: no children. I can’t believe you’re talking like this. What’s happened to you?”
“Right, but I was thinking we could—”
“I was clear—”
“I know,” he interrupted, “but I was thinking—”
“You can’t just change your mind on this one.”
“For Pete’s sake, Elizabeth,” he said, getting mad. “If you’d just let me finish—”
“Go ahead,” she snapped. “Finish!”
He looked at her, frustrated.
“I was only thinking that we could get a dog.”
Relief flooded her face. “A dog?” she said. “A dog!”
—
“Goddammit,” Frask commented quietly as Calvin leaned over to kiss Elizabeth. The entire cafeteria instantly echoed her sentiment. From every direction, silverware fell to trays in resigned clatters, chairs were kicked back in moody defeat, napkins were wadded in dirty little balls. It was the noxious noise of profound jealousy, the kind that never results in a happy ending.
Chapter 7
Six-Thirty
Many people go to breeders to find a dog, and others to the pound, but sometimes, especially when it’s really meant to be, the right dog finds you.
It was a Saturday evening, about a month later, and Elizabeth had run down to the local deli to get something for dinner. As she left the store, her arms laden with a large salami and a bag of groceries, a mangy, smelly dog, hidden in the shadows of the alley, watched her walk by. Although the dog hadn’t moved in five hours, he took one look at her, pulled himself up, and followed.
Calvin happened to be at the window when he saw Elizabeth strolling toward the house, a dog following a respectful five paces behind, and as he watched her walk, a strange shudder swept through his body. “Elizabeth Zott, you’re going to change the world,” he heard himself say. And the moment he said it, he knew it was true. She was going to do something so revolutionary, so necessary, that her name — despite a never-ending legion of naysayers — would be immortalized. And as if to prove that point, today she had her first follower.