Coercions

Two girls looked up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Gabor drank up the remaining vodka and stared into the empty glass: "This was what I had to tell you straight, like this, together," and then he gazed into their faces. His expression melancholic, perhaps a bit regretful, but he went on: "No, I didn't know for a long time, how it could be possible to love two women; differently of course, because you are very different, but still, I need you with the same intensity.

"Well, perhaps you'd prefer to hear about your enticing qualities, or maybe to cite some of our romantic memories that ties me to you but I simply had to face reality... myself. This is a lot more primitive than poetical pathos of love, where two persons dissolve in some sort of exalted, syrupy, emotional unity.

"This is some sort of ancient, I have to admit, animalistic primal instinct what I cannot control... Our unusual love makings forced me to face myself. I had to understand I am civilized. I'm better than a raunchy gorilla because the same primal instinct drives the bull against the others for owing the herd - the lion, the hippo and the dog are all the same. And the caveman too. I should be ashamed of myself for being unable to master such primal instinct, wanting you both with the same intensity; because we are civilized, cultured human beings; but this very civilization turned the primal instincts to emotions. I cannot help my programming. I possess you with my primitive instincts and I love you with my civilized emotions... love you both. And it is part of this mighty culture that I feel responsible for you. I want to make you happy, and of course I cannot do that, because I degrade you. Because you cannot say to your friends, not to mention family, 'I am one of Gabor's girlfriends'... because you both are worth a lot more than existing as a second fiddle in any man's life."

Gabor's eyes shone strongly and if Vicky hadn't known him better, she might think he was fighting tears. She had never heard him talk so much. He was gazing far away, somewhere beyond the confines of the walls, somewhere far into the nothingness and only after some considerable time did he resume talking "So, that's it. You have to go on with your lives. I have no right whatsoever to tie you down. Only to thank for what you gave me. What would happen to me? Ok, I know, I am sounding like I am wallowing in self-pity, but I'll survive. Though at the moment, I cannot even imagine if I ever meet someone.... someone to replace you both..."

And again, the well-known irony glistened in his eyes... self-irony: "I don't have the strength to send any of you away. Perhaps don't really want to have... I pass the buck... your turn..."

Silence beset the room. Vicky had no thoughts. She sank into a bitter-sweet, empty melancholy. Yet, glancing at Agnes, she appeared relived, her features showed some sort of determination. Vicky tried to figure out what could take place in her mind. No, it wasn't pride for sure. Slowly she began to comprehend how much she might love Gabor. Nothing less spoke beside it but the fact that she endured and accepted Vicky in his life and still stayed with him. It was time for the two women to have a face to face talk. Vicky had nothing to lose.

But for now both girls sat in their armchairs bemused. Gabor, with his empty glass, went to the commode.

"It's already dark outside," he stated the fact, looking out the window. "If any of you want to go I can call a cab and I will of course pay for it. I urged you to come up here today."

Aggie didn't move from the edge of her seat, but her bearing was visibly more relaxed compared to Vicky's first sight of her. Vicky understood her more and more clearly by the passing minutes, and she became uneasy. She was no stranger here, not the secret mistress; she was a star of this ludicrous melodrama just as much as Agnes. After all she didn't even feel awkward anymore. Only some sort of sticky sorrow suppressed her mind. Still, she felt an undeniable tension heating the air.

She heard some jingling as Gabor put down his glass and then he spoke timidly, unusual for him: "If you're not in a hurry we could have dinner perhaps. I got hungry from the vodka and baked some braised pork and potatoes..."

The baked-braised pork was one of Gabor's specialities, and Vicky knew well he often put a lot of effort into cooking to overcome his dark moods. He used to drown failures into creativity.

As he got no answer from the girls, he asked again with a bit more confidence: "Will you stay? The last supper was due to Christ too..." and slight, characteristic irony coloured his voice.

Agnes emptied her glass wordlessly and as an agreement stood up and went to the kitchen for the plates. Vicky's glance followed her and could not avoid noticing how the close-fitting, grey skirt emphasised the shapely curve of buttocks as Agnes' short steps in the high-heels swayed her hips. What a gorgeous body, she had to admit with some envy. She was sure Agnes slender, teenage-like, yet very feminine figure drew the staring of many hungry men. Vicky stood up also for she felt she too had to be part of the happenings. It was good to stretch out a bit. She looked around in the familiar room uncertain what to do.

The door to the vestibule opened in one corner of the living-room. Through the door in the other corner one could enter the kitchen and in between a bookshelf with the television and stereo set took up almost the whole length of the wall. The lounge-set faced the entertainment system. A dining table leaned against the back-wall, but it could be used at full capacity only with a bit of rearrangement of the furniture. As it was placed next to the back wall four persons could be seated around comfortably... In her fresh memories Gabor's dinners at candle-light lingered at this table. On the right a balcony stretched from the back wall all along to the kitchen door. Through its glass panels the lights of the evening-city twinkled amongst the thinning, yellow-brown, autumn foliage of the trees on the hill-side. The bedroom and bathroom doors occupied the opposite wall, leaving just enough space for the catering-commode.

Maybe I'll set the table, Vicky thought, but as she turned towards the commode for in its drawers the table cloth were kept, she bumped into Gabor. He was about to take the used glasses out to the kitchen-sink, so at the collision instinctively flung his arms aside for saving the crystals from cracking. Vicky's breasts pressed against Gabor's chest, her nose halted just millimetres from the opening of his half-unbuttoned shirt. The surprise from the crash and the aromatic scent of his skin spread like wildfire in her veins. She shuddered. Gabor stepped backwards with an apologetic smile, but his darkly glistening eyes bored into Vicky's startled stare, and then slipped lower to her nipples; they were suddenly frozen to small buds as if they wanted to prick through the fabric of the bra and her flimsy dress at once. Blood rushed into her face in an instant, and looking at him she knew immediately Gabor was aware of every muffled emotion, every involuntary proceeding that ever took place in her. She felt more naked than ever; what's more, the vulnerability pumped her blood with even more violent excitement.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and continued towards the kitchen.

Shaken, Vicky stepped to the commode. To appease the slight tremors in the pit of her stomach she needed some time. Taking a deep breath, she chose a blue and white, chequered tablecloth. As she smoothed it on the table Agnes approached with the plates.

"Aggie," she addressed her hesitantly, "did you know what he wanted?"

Arranging the plates she replied: "I only had a presentiment"

"You seemed to be frightened, when I arrived"

"... Yes I was... I was worried he'll get rid of us both"

"Worried for both of us???"

"Yes, both of us... I think every word he said is true"

"You sound you'd like to stay with him... even tonight!"

"If he won't send me away"

"Honestly, do you want him all for yourself!?"

Agnes straightened up and for the first time she looked into Vicky's eyes: "I'm not questioning what you feel for Gabor, but I don't think he means as much to you as to me. Ever since you met he was always there for you, but nine months and eleven days ago we were parted as friends. Gradually, I began to panic because there was no Gabor. To show all and prove to myself I'm a desirable woman I changed men by the week but none of them had the Gabor-touch, the Gabor-voice, the Gabor-smell... The void he left in me hurt. Sleepless nights, tear-drenched pillows, you name it I had them all. My pride and dignity began to crumble to the point when I began to collect every bit of info about him. I knew he was going out with you, probably from the first minute. I tried not to interfere, but the time came when I just couldn't take anymore. I simply had to see him. It was enough to touch my hand in that coffee-shop. Every remaining bit of my self-esteem, female poise collapsed. I simply lost the plot and if I didn't feel his body-reactions I would beg him on my knees to take me there and then. You could love him while he was there for you, but have no idea how it is when he isn't"

Aggie continued arranging the cutlery while Vicky tried to digest what she had just heard. A few moments elapsed and then she asked: "How old are you, Aggie?"

"25, does it have any importance?"

"No, not really... After all you didn't reply to my question; do you want him all for yourself?"

"Why, don't you...?"

"So, you think, I better disappear from your life, because I'm the intruder here?!" anger began to swell in Vicky.

Agnes put down the knives and looked at Vicky again. However, she didn't see any enmity in her eyes, rather understanding, benevolence, friendship.

"There is something you don't seem to understand." She smiled faintly, her voice soft, and to stress their essential attachment she took Vicky's hand. "Yes, I would love to have him for my own as much as you do, but I had to come to terms with the fact that I'm just not enough for him. Everything I am, every bit of me is his. I can only be a whole person beside him... a woman by him... Anything I am inside and out he wants... but still not enough. This is why I want your presence in his life as well... this is in my interest too"

"How is that?" Vicky frowned.

"Oh, it's simple," the smile on Aggie's face tried to express the importance of common interest, "Can't you see? We can coexist in his life. If you go away he will miss something again and start to see other girls. I could be put to the sideline, perhaps for months... but perhaps for ever, because there might be, just might be a girl out there who can fully engage him though I very much doubt it. As long as he needs you he needs me too for you possibly are everything to him I am not and vice versa. I'm forced to bend my knees, to accept my place beside him by the lack of him. Your pride and dignity is probably stronger than mine, for now. So go and find out the hard way when he is not there for you... he is with someone else and you don't know what she can give him. But I wouldn't want that to happen. Only if you could accept my existence, so accepting your place beside him because you on your own are not enough just like me..."

Vicky was overwhelmed. She absorbed it all on a deep emotional level and could easily imagine herself in Aggie's shoes. She began to grasp her unconditional love. Her hands soft, her eyes pleading. She started to realize that Aggie was above lies, self-deception, hypocrisy, female pretence as she simply submitted her whole being to Gabor. Vicky sensed rather than comprehended something heroic about Agnes. As if she drew a deep self-esteem, an enigmatic power and some peculiar wisdom from her limitless submission. Vicky had spent only nine days without him and that had already turned her out of her mind. What was it compared to four months?

"Girls! Could one of you take the salad?" Gabor yelled from the kitchen into the momentary silence of the two. The girls started off at once, so they bumped shoulders. They looked at each other and laughed. Nonetheless, the short time was enough for Vicky to become well aware what was in store for her if she were to be the one to leave... the lack of Gabor... his touch... his voice...

"You go," encouraged Agnes and stepped back.

In the kitchen as Gabor handed over the salad bowl he held onto Vicki's hands for a short time: "You look stunning tonight, little vamp," he smiled approvingly, his voice the soft, blood-stirring, deep velvet and heat flooded through her immediately. "You want to torture me, don't you? You succeeded with high colours, I can tell. Just don't you too get burnt," and he slowly let go of the salad bowl.

Vicky hardly contained herself from running back to the table.

"What happened?" Agnes instantly noticed the flush of her face.

She only replied after a short pause, but was unable to conceal the repressed emotions in her voice: "I can' be that transparent. He simply sees through me. How can anyone get used to this???"

Agnes giggled: "Oh it only feels awkward as long as you want to cover yourself up, as long as you want to be mysterious. Otherwise, believe me, it gives you an awesome sensation of security; it is a wonderful feeling that he can focus on me in a way no one ever was able to..."

Gabor brought in the steaming ceramic dish, wearing oven-gloves.

"Aggie, please light the candles," he asked from the kitchen door. "Vicky, put on some pleasant music"

There were several candles in different shapes and forms around the room and when Agnes turned off the light a comforting amber glow danced upon the walls. Vicky randomly picked a soul CD and slipped it into the player.

At the table Gabor lifted his drink ceremoniously and touched glasses with the girls. The tension eased somewhat, but over dinner they didn't speak much. Gabor poured light red wine into goblets. He looked up sometimes at Aggie, sometimes at Vicky, trying some sort of awkwardly encouraging smile, but he could find no topic for a light conversation. Vicky was sure all three of them were thinking about the same thing; what is going to happen after dinner. Agnes briskly collected the empty plates and cutlery, almost like an everyday duty while Vicky took the dishes after her. Gabor was left alone.

Both girls felt at home in Gabor's kitchen. Agnes washed up the dishes, while Vicky sorted the remaining food into smaller containers and put them away. Then she dried the washed dishes with Aggie. They finished fast with the work. Wiping their wet hands with kitchen cloths, they glanced at one another. They both read the same unspoken question in their eyes: What now?

The nervous smiles hardly concealed the quiver, hiding in their hearts and souls...

Gabor was sitting on the sofa. He seemed to be his old self with a vaguely assertive expression and calm bearing as he leaned back, arms apart on the back of the lounger. His glass in front of him was half filled with the transparent liquor and next to the armchairs two more glasses with Cherry Brandy.

It seemed obvious so the girls seated themselves as well.

"Cheers," Gabor lifted his drink. They touched glasses again and then sipped. Again he leaned back. No trace of tension could be detected in him... perhaps his vodka had its share in his relaxed and poised behaviour. He closed his eyes. Minutes passed by like that. The light of the candles lasciviously flickered on the walls to the erotic rhythm of the soul music. The girls leaned back as well, pretending calmness, but their uncertainty vibrated in the air.

Gabor murmured his eyes closed: "I can smell you ... both... your scents..." Slowly he sat up erect and looked at Aggie then Vicky in turn for some length and knew that the girls were sensing although while avoiding his burning gaze. Then, standing up, he passed around Vicky's armchair, grabbed her hand, his voice a raspy whisper: "Come..." he said curtly. She obeyed automatically, standing up and taking a tentative step. He pulled her in an embrace of a slow, soul-melting dance. Nestling close, the thin material of their clothing seemed almost no boundary between their bare skins. She was unable to stop her traitor body, to repress slight, impulsive quivers from the physical contact. He combed long fingers in honey-blond locks and snuggled her head to his shoulder. All along he was staring at Agnes. She glanced up at the pair time to time mystified, then dropped her eyes. Her face flashed though the scarlet, wriggling flames covered up her overwhelming thrill. Vicky helplessly melted in the strong arms, dizzy – perhaps the drinks, but maybe not - and very much aware of Agnes and her own defencelessness.

Gabor didn't take his eyes off Agnes. He probably knew exactly what was taking place within her. Perhaps he wanted to torment, soften her up to some dark purpose, which only existed in Gabor's head for the moment. Vicky could not know. She tried hard to regain control over her own disobedient body as she was unable to stop its impulsive shivers in his embrace.

"Come, you too" he said finally. As if only waiting for his command, Agnes was on her toes and with the movement of a graceful, but cautious cat snuggled into the intoxicating dance. Gabor pulled her head to his other shoulder and his arms embraced them like iron bars. Facing each other on Gabor's shoulders, from under heavy lids restless eyes reflected the flickering ballet of the flames. The sensation surprised Vicky. Aggie's body like warm wax melted into the trio, their shoulders touched. Gabor, like in roundels, seized and crossed the girls' arms behind their backs, enfolded, hugged them stronger and stronger by the passing minutes. His breathing increased and his embrace became almost painful. His leopard-like, predator body burned them both like awakening amber. They were writhing in exposed fervour, unprotected. Muted emotions and stifled yearnings transformed here into physical confessions. Their bodies liquefying, pressed against each other, commanded by patent physical yearning and old emotional ties and rendered them powerless against him. Unable to hide behind pride and dignity, as they were demolished seemingly ages ago, their bodies were confessing unconscious needs freely and not only to him, but to one another as well.

And then Gabor's steel-arms loosened up suddenly. He stepped back, bending slightly, putting hands over knees, inhaling air sharply, like athletes after a long run, trying to regain the calmness of their breathing. The girls, losing balance for the moment, reeled backwards as the devilish embrace abruptly ended.

"Why don't you hate me?!" he breathed heavily, as if talking to himself, "...Why?" Slowly he straightened up, his features hardened. "Then I must push you further," and he grabbed Vicky's hand. He pulled her next to him and said to Agnes curtly: "Strip"

His face like some ancient, angry Zeus statue, Agnes' startled glance plummeted from it like cracked old, plaster from a solid brick wall.

"And you'll watch her," he snapped at Vicky, holding her soft hand in the shackle of his palm, then added with quiet cynicism, "but of course I can call for cabs"

"This is just plain blackmail" whispered Vicky, but her sulky voice did not reflect the power of the hard words.

Watching him closely, she felt as if a strong resolve and some strange yearning sparkled against each other in Gabor's eyes. But he propelled her by the shoulders to face him, bending forward unexpectedly and with a short kiss he scorched her supple lips. Then he replied softly, huskily, "Yes, plain blackmail... I'm such a cruel guy... can't you see?"