Sea Air (10 page)

“I thought you might find it interesting.” Mercifully, Marco let the change of subject pass without comment.

“But if I understood it correctly, it was an invitation to be on the panel.”

“Exactly.”

“But I’ve never done anything like that before!”

“That’s exactly the point, Nele. It’s time to push yourself. The panel will be discussing renewable energy in urban redevelopment. Right up your alley.”

“But you’re much better at speaking than I am.” I had no desire to engage in a debate with experts on a public stage. The very idea made my forehead break out in a sweat. But I knew that Marco would not allow himself to be dissuaded this time. He’d made it his personal mission to get me known. He knew I was shy and that I didn’t believe in myself as much as others did. Maybe he was right. Maybe if I pushed myself I’d get over my stage fright. But I wasn’t sure I even wanted that. I liked being left alone to do my work.

“This is
your
area of expertise, Nele,” Marco insisted, just as I’d feared. “This time I’m not letting you chicken out.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” If our company was going to get more contracts, I really didn’t have a choice. Maybe this would even lead to more private sector jobs, and then I wouldn’t have to subject myself to the whims of mayors or directors of building departments . . .

“I’m proud of you,” Marcus told me.

“I know you are.”

I even felt proud of myself.

That night I lay awake thinking about my conversation with Marco. Why was he so convinced that Mathis really loved me? More importantly, why did he think that Mathis was protecting me from something? I searched my memory for clues, reflecting on all that he’d said about his job, his family, and his life. I remembered the stories he’d told me, the looks he’d given me, the way he’d smiled. And those nights! Yes, he loved me. Marco was right about that. This had never been a game for Mathis. He was an architect, not an actor. But, protect me? No matter how hard I thought, no answer came. It was a question that only one person could answer, and I probably wouldn’t ever see that person again.
Maybe he’ll leave an explanation in his will,
I thought with bitterness. I pictured myself like a character in a movie, standing by the North Sea, my face pale and tear-streaked, with his farewell letter in hand and the little harmonica, which he’d left to me. I imagined myself charged with the honor and responsibility of scattering his ashes at sea. Overwhelmed with sadness and pity for myself, I began to cry again. Why was I so unlucky? Why were Mathis and I
both
so unlucky? In my mind, we were the greatest love since Romeo and Juliet. “Oh, I love you so much, Mathis,” I whispered. Then I fell asleep. But my sailor followed me into my dreams.

W
hy do you look so funny?”

Paula’s words startled me out of my trance. “What do you mean, I look funny?”

She stood in front of me giving me a critical look, her head tilted. “You just look funny, that’s all. The way you look all the time now.”

Poor Paula. I’d been almost completely useless since my vacation. Of course, she’d noticed. Worse, since I’d been back I had yelled at her a couple of times for no reason. She began to cry. I felt like the most horrible parent in the world. How could I have taken out my frustration on my own child?

“Are you still mad that I went on vacation with Anneke?”

“Oh, Paula, I was never angry with you for going on vacation with Anneke!” Where had she gotten that idea? “You had a lot of fun, right? That’s what matters to me.”

“It was great.” Paula brightened a little. “Hey, Momma? Why can’t we live near the sea? It’s a lot nicer there than it is here.”

“Because I work here and you go to school here.” Where was all this coming from?

“Sandra said there are schools at the sea, too.”

“Oh, so Sandra said that.”

“Oh Momma, please! Let’s live at the sea!”

“All your friends would be here,” I reminded her.

“No, Anneke said she’d come, too.”

“Do Sandra and Christoph know about her plans?”

“No, but she’s going to tell them today.”

“Paula, it’s really not that easy.”

“Why not?”

A very good question. Why not? “Well . . . you know what? Let’s play a game. How about Memory?”

“Games are stupid; I want to go to the sea!”

Paula wasn’t as easy to distract now as she’d been at age three.

“I tell you what. I’ll talk with Sandra about this plan of yours, but we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’m moving to the sea! I’m moving to the sea! I’m moving to the sea!” Paula danced around the apartment. “I’m going to go tell Anneke.” The door slammed behind her with a bang.

“So, when are you moving?”

“Moving?”

“Paula says you’re moving to the sea.” Sandra grinned at me. She sat in the large wingback chair Christoph’s grandma had left her, her knees tucked up to her chin. The rain came down in torrents as we sat comfortably inside with our cups of tea.

“Apparently, we’re taking Anneke with us.”

“What?”

“The girls have already figured it all out. They haven’t broken the news to you yet?”

“So that’s why Anneke has been asking for boxes. She’s probably already packing.”

“Poor things. Now what do we do?” I gave Sandra a perplexed look. The children were taking this quite seriously and were sure to be bitterly disappointed. I hoped Paula wouldn’t start dreaming about ways to escape her home, like I was. Or like Jürgen had.

“We’re going to have to break the news gently.”

Just then the children ran through the door, their cheeks red with excitement. “Can we get a pony when we move to the sea? Horseback riding on the beach is great. We saw it!” Anneke beamed at her mother like an angel. Both of the girls had taken riding lessons for years and were obsessed with horses.

“When are you moving to the sea?” Sandra asked.

“Soon. Momma said.” Paula looked from Sandra to me.

“I didn’t say that, Paula,” I defended myself. “I just said I’d talk to Sandra about the idea.”

“But it’s okay with Momma, because she already wants to live at the sea.” Anneke gave a dismissive wave of her hand, as if the matter of her parents had already been settled.

“How did you know about that?” Sandra looked at her in amazement.

“You keep saying that when we’re with Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Oh, gosh. Is there anything you don’t hear?” Sandra shook her head.

I got the feeling this discussion could go on for days if I didn’t clear a few things up. “Girls, the truth is, we just can’t move to the sea overnight. If we decide we want to do this, making it happen is going to take a lot of time. Not to mention the fact that I’d need a job there, and so would Christoph and Sandra. Right now, there’s really nothing else for you two to do but go play and stop obsessing about the sea.”

At first, the girls looked shocked by my words, and then they started to scream. I gently pushed Paula from the room, both girls venting their frustration by saying things like, “Adults are mean!” and “I’m gonna find new parents!” I closed the door emphatically.

Sandra sighed. “They’re right, you know. Adults make things so complicated. We know what we want, but we always shoot ourselves in the foot.”

I gazed into my cup of tea and thought about Mathis, who had spent his life thinking of others and squelching his own desire for freedom. I thought about the regular bouts of wanderlust that overcame me, which I tried so hard to ignore. I thought about all the people who tried to change their lives, only to be met by condescending smiles and slammed doors. Why were we playing this game?

“It’s the price humanity has paid for settling down,” I decided. “If we were still nomads, we wouldn’t be having these discussions. We would go wherever we wanted. You know what we should be blaming? Evolution.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little far-fetched?”

No. I didn’t think it was at all.

The upcoming panel discussion was hard on my stomach. I fully expected to embarrass myself in front of a large group of experts in just two weeks. I couldn’t get out of it. Back when I was a student at the university, I excelled at writing papers with clearly laid-out themes—themes that fell on the ground in frayed pieces whenever I attempted to convey them in an oral presentation. I could write meaningfully. But if I had to read that same paper out loud, I failed miserably.

I chewed on my pencil and wondered if my efforts were a waste of time. Even if I could come up with something brilliant, I had no idea what the other presenters were planning to say.

My phone rang, saving me from having to make a decision.

“Can you take Anneke today?” Sandra sounded very excited.

“Of course. What’s going on? You’re all out of breath.”

“Oh, Nele, you won’t believe it! I can hardly believe it myself. It’s crazy!” I wasn’t used to hearing Sandra sound so emotional. The last time she’d sounded this excited was when she got pregnant.

“Spit it out!” I told her.

“My book is being published!”

I was stunned. I’d known for a few weeks that Sandra was working on a children’s book, but I had no idea that it was even finished. The idea came to her in Rügen. Sandra was a fantastic artist and made the first, early sketches for the book while on vacation. The protagonist was a little seal named Heinrich who wound up in Rügen by chance and had all kinds of adventures there. Sandra explained that she’d finished a draft by the time she got home, then submitted it to a publisher.

“Sandra, that’s awesome! We’ve got to celebrate!” I hoped she would have all the success in the world. For a long time, she’d been looking for a job that would give her enough free time to take care of Anneke and still earn her own money. Extreme test anxiety had kept her from graduating with a degree, and that pretty much took her out of the running for a permanent position in a company. Marco and I had offered to bring her onto our staff, but Sandra wanted to prove that she could do this for herself. She’d tried a few jobs over the years, but nothing had been the right fit. Until now. She hadn’t even told Christoph. He’d seen that she’d drawn some beautiful pictures. But she hadn’t wanted to say anything about the book to him until she actually sold it. And now, she had pulled it off.

“You’re going to publish a real book!” I said.

“Not just one, Nele! They’re giving me a contract for a whole series. I can’t believe it!”

“You’re kidding, right? Like the Conni series?”

“Exactly. They want me to come in this afternoon and sign the contract.
Today
, Nele! My friend Michael is an editor, and he thinks it’s a really good offer.”

“When do you have to be there?”

“Four o’clock. I’m taking the train. I’m way too nervous to drive.”

“If you and Christoph want to celebrate by yourselves, Anneke can stay with us tonight.”

“No. We’ll come over later to celebrate with you and the girls, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll get the champagne.”

“Okay, I’d better go get ready. See you later, Nele, and thank you so much!”

I hung up my phone feeling happy. What a bright spot in our dark existence!

I jumped up to go tell Marco.

“You’re not going to believe what happened to Sandra today,” I said as I barged into his office.

“Something good, judging by your face.”

“Not just good. Fantastic! Sandra is going to publish a children’s book!”

“But . . . something that big doesn’t happen just like that.”

“Well, it did. She’s signing the contract today.”

Marco fell back against his chair. “Well, how about that!” He looked floored.

“She’s breaking the good news to Christoph tonight. He didn’t even know she was trying to write a book.”

“He’s going to freak out.”

“If you want, bring your family over tonight. We’re going to celebrate.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He was already dialing Ines. As I walked back to my office, my heart soared. Suddenly, everything looked much brighter. It
was
still possible for a person to change her life. Maybe my turn would come next.

Why did that idea make me start thinking about Mathis again?

Sandra and Christoph showed up around eight. Marco, Ines, and their little boy, Tristan, were already there. As expected, Christoph was dumbfounded by the news, and he quickly became the proudest husband on earth. He kissed Sandra’s forehead over and over and put away several glasses of champagne. The children, too, were caught up in the mood and were soon bouncing off the walls. Around ten, things got even better when Marco rose from the sofa and pulled his wife up beside him. Solemnly he raised his glass and looked around the room.

“Please don’t think I’m trying to steal Sandra’s thunder.” He raised his glass to her. “But since we’re already celebrating, I want everyone to share in our joy.” He took a deep breath. “Ines is pregnant again!”

The room erupted in excitement, and I was thankful that I’d given in to an impulse to buy sparkling cider in addition to champagne. By midnight, all the adults but Ines were slurring our words. With considerable effort, Ines managed to get her sleeping child and drunken husband into the car. Though Christoph was reeling, he and Sandra succeeded in walking the twenty yards to their front door. Paula and Anneke slept in my daughter’s room, and I knew I’d pay a price early the next morning. School started at eight. If I’d had a considerate life partner, I would have gladly let him take on this obligation for me. I sighed and lay down in my bed, suddenly feeling very alone. As I closed my eyes, the room around me seemed to rock. I imagined myself on the boat with Mathis, somewhere on the North Sea coast. But my imagination differed from my current state in one crucial detail.

In my fantasy, I wasn’t seasick.

The image reflected in the mirror was the exact opposite of reality. A young woman with a stylish updo, wearing a sleek, navy-blue jacket and pants, gazed back out at me. I looked like the cover of a fashion magazine for young professionals. All that was missing was a pair of smart metal-rimmed glasses. I didn’t even look like myself. I stuck out my tongue, and my reflection did, too. Nope, that was me. I panicked. How could I even go outside looking like this? Why had I let Ines talk me into buying this awful suit? We’d been shopping for Tristan’s birthday gifts when she’d spied this monstrosity in the store window. “That’s your suit, Nele,” she insisted. It was paid for even before I had a chance to resist.

I can’t wear this,
I thought. But just as I started to dig in my closet, the doorbell rang. That would be Marco. Well, he’d just have to wait.

“You look fantastic, Nele,” he said as I opened the door. He held me at arm’s length. “Perfect.”

“Your wife chose this,” I said, my voice weak. I couldn’t tell whether he was being sincere with his praise.

“I’m not surprised,” he told me. “She’s got excellent taste. That’s why she married me.”

“Ha-ha,” I said. “Anyway, I’m changing into something less conspicuous.”

“Oh, no.” Marco stepped in front of my closet door. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You look just right. Now let’s go. We’re already late.”

He pushed me toward the door in a way that showed he meant business. I gave up.