The friendship

A summer evening, softly wrapped the city. The aroma of the rain was everywhere.

Inhaling such an aroma, any person felt a little dizzy and tender nastolgiya of the distant childhood.

Entering the restaurant, Adelard looked around.

The aromas of various dishes and the smell of perfume made him a little intoxicated.  The high ceiling was decorated with flowers and wood carvings, creating a feeling of home comfort.  And only small round tables that were scattered everywhere and soft sofas reminded that this was a public place.

Stepping onto the soft carpet, Adelard noticed the waiter that was running in his direction.

"Monsieur Jean is waiting for you in a separate room," the waiter said.

Without saying anything, Adelard walked through the small crowd of beautiful women and men.  Making a slight bow in front of everyone, without saying anything, he walked towards the wooden door at the end of the room.

Feeling someone's hand on his shoulder, he turned and saw bright red lips that smiled greedily.

"Monsieur keep us company. We haven't seen you for so long," someone's voice was heard.

"Excuse me," he said quietly and walked quickly towards the door.

Before he had time to enter, someone pounced on him with gentle embraces.  Sensing a slight fragrance emanating from the large body, Adelard said, “This is my new cologne. Do you like it?"

"I only like your style, not your cologne."

Having released him, Monsieur Jean, who was Adelard's best friend, stepped aside and began to study him.

Monsieur Jean himself, had a large body of a fighter. Muscles that were able to win more than one battle, and tall height that made it possible to see everyone below. Well, his face radiated nothing more than childishness and naivety.  Although his expression was sometimes frightening.  But in general, his features were unusual.  Elongated bright brown eyes, very thick eyebrows, a straight nose and lips that were hidden under a thin line of black mustache.  And also short spiky hair.  He was a man much older than Adelard, but despite his age, he looked very young.

Monsieur Jean, as everyone is supposed to have, had a wife and two beautiful daughters, both of whom, as expected, married a long time ago and gave birth to the same wonderful children.

Monsieur Jean never spoke about his family.  And Adelard only saw his wife Eve once or twice.

But overall, Monsieur Jean was a good friend.  With whom he could have a heart-to-heart talk and be himself.

"Well, why are you looking at me like that.  You're embarrassing me," Adelard said, sitting down on a small leather chair.

Looking at the table, Adelard noticed grapes and without hesitation began to eat them one by one.

"How long have I not seen you.  Last time I saw you in Paris.  And before that in New York.  My friend, I thought that you forgot about me. I won't let you go and you know that."

"You talk as if you are my wife, who requires too much time and attention."

Noticing the strange expression on Jean's face, Adelard pulled a chair towards him and asked in a whisper, "Jean, just don't tell me that you..."

Frowning and making a worried look, Adelard put his hand on his shoulder and continued, "Man, just don't tell me that you too..."

"What?" he asked in a misunderstanding.

Adelard approached and whispered in his ear, "Are you in love with me?"

The next minute, he felt an aching pain on his wrist.  Grabbing it and squeezing it tight, Jean with a little force wanted to teach him a lesson.

"Let go. I was joking!" Adelard shouted.

Jean casually threw his hand aside and straightened his jacket.  Without looking at him, he almost spitefully said, "Don't joke like this!"

"Why are you so angry? Or is it because you are really in love with me?" he asked again and suddenly ran away.

"Come on, come here. What are you afraid of?"

Noticing that he pissed him off, Adelard could not help laughing.  Trembling, he grabbed the back of the table.

"You are like a child," Jean added and sat back down.

Gathering his courage, Adelard poured himself red wine.

"Your brother is late."

"I'm afraid he won't come today," Jean said with a loud sigh. "Jacques, recently became too free.  I think he got into bad company.  Once I saw him with his "friends" and it seemed to me that they were not very good guys.  Something tells me that I must keep him safe from them."

"Well, maybe he's old enough to choose his friends."

"Don't talk nonsense. Jacques, he will always be stupid and young.  I guess I need to be a little tougher with him."

"How old is he?  Twenty five?"

"Twenty seven.  And still not married."

"Well, I'm not married either.  Although I'm thirty."

"Well, you're different. You have a mind. You are kind, sincere. I would even wish you never get married. Love will destroy such a kind, sincere, person like you.  Love is not right for you.  Love is only for callous, cold, rough, scary hearts.  Well, alas, you will suffer in love.  People are not ready to love someone like you," Jean said sadly looking somewhere.

"Your words sometimes frighten me."

"Listen to them. This is my advice to you."

Adelard touched his hair and said with a dreamy air, "You're late with your advice.  I'm already in love."

"I hope this is not serious.  After all, you never fell in love."

Handing him the apple, Adelard laughed nervously, and at the same moment Jean's brother entered the room.  He looked almost the same as Jean, with very thick eyebrows and sly eyes.  But his physique was more delicate and thin.  But this did not hide the fact that he possessed the strength of a fighter and, if necessary, could stand up for himself.

With a quick glance at Adelard and then at his brother, Jacques approached Jean and sat abruptly on his lap.  Hugging his neck, Jacques smiled happily, showing the entire row of even and white teeth.

"Get up. You're not little anymore," Jean said seriously, turning his head away from him.

Jacques got up from his lap, looked surprised and then smiled again.  This time his attention was on Adelarde.

“Brother Adelard is glad to see you.  How are you?"  he asked as if he had just seen him.

"Everything is well. And you?"

"I am fine too," he answered.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Jean noted pointing to the door.

Jacques smiled nervously, his thin face flushed.

"And you, as always, see everything, brother.  Yes, I'm waiting for someone.  But don't worry, this person won't come here.  He will be outside, waiting for me."

“Then why are you looking at the door?" after taking a sip of wine Jean asked and caught Adelard's incomprehensible look on himself.

Jacques said nothing. It was obvious that the relationship between the two brothers had changed a lot since the time Adelard saw them together.  Previously, they were more friendly, but now there was a kind of tension between them.  But without showing any sign, Adelard got up from his chair and walked over to Jacques.  Putting his hand on his shoulder, he said, “But I hope you give me some time.  I want to tell you something."

"What is it?"

Jean made a displeased sound.

Adelarde took a paper from his pocket and handed it to Jacques.

He quickly unfolded it without hesitation.

"What is this?"

"This, Jacques, is my little present for you.  You see, business is flourishing like never before.  And that's why I want to help you too. I know that your store is not very successful these days and therefore I decided to buy you a new outlet right in the center of this town.  Don't worry about delivery and goods.  My people will equip you with everything you need.  And I think that this store will bring you more income than the previous one."

"But brother Adelar, why do I need a second store?  Isn't that too generous?" Jacques asked timidly, although his eyes showed joy.

"If I can help people, then why I shouldn't?"

"Eh Adelard. This is your kindness. Take it out of your soul.  I still wonder how these piranhas didn't eat you.  Are you really from this planet?" Jean asked although no one paid attention to him now.

Hugging Adelard sharply, Jacques exclaimed, "Thank you!"

"You're just like a brother to me, so no need to thank me."

"You see Monsieur Jean.  You see how you should treat your brother.  Monsieur Adelarde knows that it is necessary to keep the bonds of brotherhood." Having said this, Jacques stuck out his tongue and made a funny face.

Having emptied his glass of wine, Jean stood up and walked lazily to the fireplace.  Taking out a cigar, he twirled it in his hands and then said, "Where is this waiter."

"Brother, let me call him," said Jacques and quickly ran out of the room.

Adelard smiled and went up to Jean who took a breath and exhaled a thick smoke.  Coughing slightly, Adelard said, "You are so cold to Jacques. He is still young. You should be more patient with him."

"You shouldn't always spoil him."

"Jean, since when did you become so harsh?"

“Maybe I'm worried.  You don't know him.  You know, one of the reasons why I wanted to meet today is," before he could finish the sentence, several waiters and Jacques entered the room with a man in a brown suit.

"Why so long?" Jean growled but there was no answer.  Three frightened waiters quickly set the table and gracefully arranged the various dishes in their places.  Bowing, they just as quickly left the room.

Noticing a strange man in the room, Jean glanced at Adelard and mysteriously shook his head in his direction.

The man standing next to Jacques decided to speak first, "I beg your pardon, gentlemen.  My name is..."

"This is Stefan," Jacques interrupted him. "Stefan, and this is my brother Jean and my second brother and colleague Monsieur Adelard."

Casting a suspicious glance at Adelard, Stefan said,  "Monsieur Adelard. What an honor to meet you."

Catching Jean's fierce gaze, Stefan tightened the muscles of his face and, smiling nervously, pointed to the table. "Looks delicious, but perhaps we need to go."

"Dine with us," Adelard kindly said.

“Sorry, but we really have to go.  Adelard, I don't know how to thank you for your generosity.  Thank you for everything," Jacques said and hugged him slightly.  Embracing him, he whispered to him, “Whatever my brother says to you now, don’t believe him."

Looking awkwardly at Jean, Stefan left the room first.

There was silence in the room.

The soft light emanating from the multiple candles created a calm atmosphere around.  Numerous books that adorned the walls were keeping the distant childhood, when each book was like a gateway to magical worlds.

Sitting on opposite sides of a long table, they stared ahead of them in silence.

The waves of the sea sometimes reached their ears.  And only the laughter and conversation of people outside this room broke the silence.

Lifting his head and sighing for the second time that evening, Jean reached for a plate of chopped vegetables and asked, "Did you see him?"

"Who?"

"Stefan."

"Yes. I think he's a good person," Adelard said,  tasting the fried chicken.

"You’re always like that. Everyone is good for you. Why is this so?  Can't you see that people are terrible creatures?"

"Well, maybe I see what you do not see.  Namely, hope."

"Hope? What are you talking about? Sometimes you like a lady. Only a woman believes in hope and love.  Adelard, haven't you noticed that this Stefan is not very good?"

"Even if I noticed what of it?  Who cares about my comments? Your brother is not a little child. He can choose his friends himself."

Jean emptied another glass of wine.

“You know what, that week, something pretty funny happened at my factory.  One of my workers suddenly, by accident ..." Adelard was about to start his story about the case of mixing up soap and sweets, as Jean, who had already lost his head due to guilt, suddenly exclaimed, "They are lovers!"

"Who?"

"They are." Pointing to the door, he nervously squeezed the glass in his hand.

"What are you talking about?  I think it's time for you to stop drinking. Drink some water.  I'm planning to take you to a theater after dinner."

Jumping up abruptly, he pushed his chair away and it flew towards the door.  Running up to Adelard, he took another chair and sat down next to him.  His eyes filled with tears.

"Jean what happened?  What's wrong?"

"Adelard. Didn't you notice?" Unable to restrain himself, he cried and laid his head on the table.

Embracing him, Adelard was about to raise his head, but he just jerked and exclaimed, "Adelard.  How can you not see what is in front of you?!"

"What are you talking about?  I think you should go home.  Come on,"  pulling his hand, added,  "Jean, get up."

Like a madman, Jean grabbed him by the shoulders and looked at him with furious eyes.  Squeezing his sleeves, he said, "They are lovers.  There is no doubt about that. I've seen everything."

"What are you talking about?  You're scaring me." Adelarde was about to call the waiter, but Jean stopped him.

“My brother, he's with that bastard, with Stefan.  They are, they are lovers."

Saying this aloud, he suddenly fell to the floor.

"Somebody call a doctor!"

"No need for anybody.  I'm fine," Jean said as if he had come to his senses.

"I will not let you go home like this.  Let's go to my place."

Quickly leaving the restaurant Adelard waved his hand and the carriage was already in front of them.

When they comfortably sat down in the carriage and the warm seats awakened in them the desire to sleep, Adelard suddenly, by the will of fate, turned his head towards the restaurant and saw the very girl he had met at the cliff.  She stood in a burgundy dress, her eyes looked somewhere into the distance, and a light shadow from the lights fell on her gentle face.  She stood as if she was waiting for someone.

Adelard was about to open the door and rush to her, but the horses, already beating out the rhythm, cut through the veil of the night and galloped towards the narrow street.

"Monsieur what happened?  Are you okay?"  asked the maid opening the door.

"Yes. Cecillia if you don't mind call Sir Nicholas."

"Yes, Monsieur."

Almost carrying Jean on his back, Adelard walked into the hall.  Smelling the scent that came from the kitchen, Adelard said, "Jean wake up."

"Adelard, what happened?" Nicholas, in his night clothes, looked a little sleepy.  Holding a candle in his hand, he asked, "Is this Monsieur Jean?  Is he drunk?"

"Yes. Nicholas, did we wake you up? Can you bring me a glass of water and a glass of warm milk?"

"You are always like that.  Even with the servants, you speak as if they are your friends.  I knew your father and he was not like that.  No, of course he was kind and all that, but you are absolutely good-natured.  And that scares me.  Do you even have an ounce of respect for yourself?  You are the only heir and behave like a simple person," with great effort Jean said.  Having loosened his tie, he wanted to get up but fell back.  And then loud laughter echoed throughout the three-story house.

Adelard sat down on a chair and threw some wood into the fire, took off his jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

"And who am I if not an ordinary person?  Jean, we should not be determined by what we have, a person should always remain a person.  Don't you think so?"

Waving his hand Jean with closed eyes exclaimed, "Of course no!  In general, by nature, a person is born a person.  But this does not mean that he needs to be person all his life.  Nature loves metamorphosis."

"Your philosophy scares me sometimes.  But it also surprises me.  You are a cynic and you are a philosopher and I can't do anything about that, right?"

"You are right.  But perhaps my cynicism saves me from this cold world. And here is my advice. Be cold and then it will be warm around you.  Wherever you go."

"How sorry I am for your wife Jean.  How sorry I am for her.  She hadn't seen a drop of love."

"She still loves me," Jean said with a proud look, lifting his head, "she probably loves me. At night." Laughing loudly, Jean wrapped his arms around himself and lay down on his right side.

“You’re certainly not human.

A few minutes later Nicholas returned carrying a silver tray.

"Monsieur Adelard, here is your milk and water for Monsieur Jean."

"Bring the wine!" Jean shouted raising his hand.

"Thanks, Nicholas. You can go."

Helping Jean to sit up, Adelard said, “Drink this too.  Milk can work wonders in moments like this."

"Milk?  No, Adelard." Jean suddenly dropped his head on the back of the sofa and at the next second was snoring loudly.