Sea Air (12 page)

“Of course you do. I should have suggested it. Paula can spend the night tonight. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so you can sleep in. I’ll bring her back around noon.”

“Thank you,” I said in a weak voice. I yawned.

“Okay, honey, sleep well and don’t worry about a thing.”

“I’ll do my best. Ciao.”

I hung up, pulled on my oldest but most comfortable pajamas, and dragged myself into bed. Maybe in the morning I’d realize that all this had been a bad dream.

T
en o’clock! I couldn’t believe my clock was right. I turned on the radio, but the DJ confirmed it: I really had slept for fourteen hours. Paula would be at the door soon, and so would Sandra, who would have plenty of questions for me. But they’d both seen me in my pajamas before. I didn’t need to rush around like crazy. I grabbed my book. When did I ever get a chance to just relax and read? I needed something to distract me from what had happened the day before.

This peace was short-lived. A few minutes later, the radio station broadcast excerpts from the postdiscussion interviews we panel members had given the day before. I turned up the volume as Mr. Albrecht reiterated his belief that renewable energy would not survive long-term.
How on earth did he believe I would ever work for him?
I shook my head. Just as I was about to lean back against my pillow, I heard Mathis’s soothing voice. They’d snapped him up for an interview, too. How had he managed to give such a professional and relaxed-sounding interview after such a stressful day? Mathis’s words made a lot of sense. And then it happened: I heard my own voice coming over the airwaves. It shook a bit, and my answers sounded pretty stiff. But the content was solid. Feeling satisfied with my performance, I switched off the radio and turned back to my reading.

This time, the doorbell interrupted me. I sat up in bed, my book dropping to the floor.
Shit! Had I fallen back asleep?
Sandra would start banging on the door really hard if I didn’t hurry. Plagued by sleepiness and a headache, I rushed to open the front door then took a quick step back so Paula and Anneke wouldn’t run me over. It took a moment for me to register the silence.

“Why aren’t you two coming in?” I asked without even looking into the hallway.

“You two? It’s just me.”

Impossible. Now I was even hallucinating the sound of Mathis’s voice.

“Can I come in?” the hallucination asked, sounding very real.

“All right,” I heard myself say. I had no idea what to do now.
What would Mathis think of my chaotic apartment?
I wondered. I’d planned to clean up the day before, but it was too late now. I sank into the couch and looked at Mathis with tired eyes.

“I’ll bet my timing’s terrible, right?” He gave me a broad grin. “If you tell me where the machine is, I’ll brew us up some coffee. I think you might need it. And if it’s all right with you, I’ll join you.”

I was thankful that he was giving me a moment to gather myself. The sight of me was probably unbearable. Without a word, I disappeared into the bathroom. He could find his own way around the kitchen.

One look in the mirror told me that things were even worse than I’d feared. My eyes were swollen, and my hair was halfway to dreadlock status. I jumped into a cold shower. By the time I was done, I still wasn’t satisfied with the result, but at least I could recognize myself. Combing my hair and brushing my teeth would have to be good enough. The smell of fresh coffee wafted into the bathroom. My heart beating extra hard, I wrapped myself in my bathrobe and went back into the living room.

Mathis had placed two colorful cups filled with coffee on the table and had also left some bread spread with jam. I sighed. Why did he have to be so perfect? He was making it impossible for me to despise him the way I should.

“I heard you on the radio.” He walked in carrying the coffee pot in one hand, containers filled with milk and sugar in the other.

“Did you think, ‘Listen to Nele make a fool of herself’?”

“I thought you did well.” He settled himself opposite me in the armchair.

“
Mooooo
,” came the sound of a plastic toy cow from Paula’s babyhood. Mathis looked in no way surprised by this. He fished the cow out from under the cushion and tossed it on the chair beside him. After having raised three children, he was long past getting irritated by such a little thing.

“Thanks. But you didn’t come here to tell me that.”

“No. You had a crowd around you yesterday. I didn’t want to impose.”

“Aren’t you considerate.”

“Sometimes. Where’s Paula?” He looked around as if to locate where she’d hidden herself.

He’d said “Paula” and not just “your daughter”! He actually remembered her name.

“Actually, she should be home any minute.” The doorbell rang. “That’ll be her.” My instinct to step back from the door proved wise this time, as the girls stormed past me with a roar, Sandra following a bit more slowly.

“Well, this isn’t the perkiest I’ve seen you, but I can smell that you at least made some coffee. I . . .” At the sight of Mathis, she stopped at the door. Like her, the children were momentarily stunned into silence, but then curiosity won the day.

“Who are you?” asked Paula.

“I’m Mathis. Who are
you?”

“I am Paula. I live here. And this is my friend Anneke. Did you sleep in my bed?”

I groaned inwardly.

“No, I just got here.” Mathis got up and stretched out his hand to Sandra. “Mathis Hagena.”

Sandra shook his hand mechanically, mumbled her name, and then dragged me by the arm into the kitchen.

“What’s
he
doing here?”

“I don’t know. He was just about to tell me when you got here.”

“Yikes. All right, I’m out of here. We’re on our way to see Christoph’s parents. We’ll take Paula with us and bring her back tonight. Honestly, Nele! How can you be so calm about this?”

“I don’t feel calm. What am I supposed to do?”

“Hear him out, but don’t fall for any tricks. You know, he looks nice, actually. Not at all like a jerk. And he has great eyes.”

Back in the living room, Paula and Anneke had made themselves comfortable on the chair with Mathis and were now shoving their class photo under his nose. Sandra and I stood back and watched.

“This is Juliane, who is also our friend. And that’s Kevin. He’s very bad. And this is Caroline. She’s got the supercool Barbie dolls.”

“And you two are the prettiest in the class,” Mathis noted. Paula and Anneke beamed. This was starting to look like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

“Come along, Anneke. We’re leaving again. Paula, you’re going to want to come along again, too.” Sandra sounded very determined.

“But we just got here! You just said . . .” Paula scrunched up her face in a pout.

“Momma has to discuss something important with Mathis.”

“But I want to stay here.”

“Paula, please,” I said. “Sandra’s right. Anyway, Anneke’s grandma has ponies. I’ll bet you want to go horseback riding.”

“I want to stay here and show Mathis my photos.”

Mathis stepped in. “I’ll definitely come back sometime, and when I do, you can show me all of your photos.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I don’t know. When are you coming again?”

“Paula! That’s enough,” I said a bit too loud.

“You always send me away!” she sulked.

Children are masters at giving their parents a guilty conscience. But to my relief, both girls got up and followed Sandra to the door.

“Bye, Mathis, see you soon!” Then they were gone.

I sank back down and picked up my now-lukewarm coffee.

“They’re quite a team, Paula and Anneke.”

“They put up with a lot, thank goodness. And Sandra is the best.” I picked up my bread and jam. “Thanks for the sandwich.” I took a big bite.

“You’re welcome. You looked famished.”

“Mathis, why did you come here?”

“I came because I owe you an explanation. And, yes . . . an apology, if you’ll hear it. If you’re willing, I’d like to explain everything over a good lunch. We could go to The Old Mill.”

“Okay.” I stood up and reached for my purse.

Mathis looked me over from top to bottom. “You know, if it was up to me, I would take you in your bathrobe. But I’m afraid . . .”

Blushing from head to toe, I disappeared into the bedroom.

Located in a time-honored building outside the bustle of the city, The Old Mill served excellent food at reasonable prices. Mathis headed for the only vacant corner table. He let me choose my spot first, then sat beside me. He looked good enough to eat, in his blue shirt and light-colored linen pants. I was starting to realize how unusual the situation was and I suddenly felt very nervous. Thankfully, the waiter appeared and brought us the menu, and I focused on the words without registering what any of them meant.

“Would you like a drink?” asked Mathis, scrutinizing me closely.

“No, thanks. Not before lunch.” Feeling nauseous, I wished I hadn’t had so much coffee. The events of the last few days were taking their toll.

“You’d rather be anywhere else than sitting here with me. Am I right?” It was a simple observation, not a guilt trip. “I don’t blame you, after the way I treated you.”

“No,” I said. “I’m okay. Yesterday was pretty rough, though. It was the first panel I’d ever been on, and—”

“Then I showed up.”

“Yes, but . . . It’s just that everything got thrown at me at once. That was just another panel for you. This is what you do: you speak in public. But I—”

“Believe me, Nele,” he said. “Yesterday was hardly just another panel for me. After I saw you, it was a long time before I could even speak. And that’s not because I had nothing to say on the subject. You probably won’t believe me, but I’d made up my mind to call you soon after returning from the North Sea. I knew it wasn’t right for me to leave you without an explanation. But I’ll admit it: I was a coward. After the way I treated you, I’m sure you think I’m an asshole, that I just used you . . .”

“But . . .”

“No, Nele. There’s no excuse for my behavior. All I can tell you is that I’m terribly sorry. And that I’ve suffered at least as much as you have.” He covered his face with both hands. “My God, Nele,” he said softly. “You have no idea how much it hurt to return to our boat.”

He actually said “our boat.” My eyes filled with tears in the face of his obvious desperation.

“I made the
Spieker
shipshape, then decided not to go inside it again. After I drove home, I threw myself into my work, trying to forget. I can’t count the number of times I picked up the phone to call you. But, like I said: I was a coward. When I saw you at the panel, I was caught completely off guard. It had to be a sign. I’d planned for my business partner to do it, and he’d been perfectly healthy the day before. The morning of the panel, he spiked a fever. Coward or not, I can’t ignore fate. I had to come see you. I am so grateful to you for listening and for not just sending me away.”

My mind reeled. Mathis sounded sincere. But what good did that do me? He was sitting across from me and explaining only the things he wanted to explain, and he hadn’t said a word about the future of our relationship. I knew that it would be better to know the whole story, to understand why we couldn’t be together. But now that he was in front of me, my body lusted after his and cried out to be touched and caressed by him. Had fate really brought us back together again? What did it want for us? Mathis seemed to have an inkling, but I was in a tailspin.

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter interrupted. Mathis was watching me with a sober look on his face. I sighed. Why couldn’t it just be like it had been before, when we would eat, drink good wine, and talk, when I would listen to his stories and . . .

“I’d like a Radler,” said Mathis without looking at me. He was back home, where an Alster was actually a Radler.

“A tomato juice, please.” The waiter disappeared.

“Tomato juice. I used to always drink that when I had a hangover,” said Mathis.

“The way I feel today is kind of like a hangover.”

“And how are you when you’re not being startled by the appearance of unexpected panel guests?”

“So-so to miserable.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I didn’t think he’d be convinced by a lie. “And you?”

“Same.”

I almost laughed. What a bizarre situation! Here we were: two people shaken by love for each other, and all that was in the way of that love was us. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t want to hear his explanations. I couldn’t stand to watch him walk away a second time, and that’s what would happen. What did his reason matter? If there was really no way to make things work, I just wanted all this to be over.

“I don’t expect you to accept my reasons for leaving you, Nele. But please let me explain. I think that will make the situation easier for us both,” he said. It was as if he could read my thoughts. He probably had.

“It might well make it easier for you. I’m not so sure about me. Being left just hurts, whatever the reason.”

“The result is the same either way, that’s true. But I’m hoping we’ll both sleep a little better once I’ve explained.”

That didn’t seem likely. But I could tell this was important to him. I sighed. “All right.”

The waiter appeared again and brought our drinks.

“And what can I bring you to eat?”

I glanced down at the menu, but Mathis stepped in to save me. “Two orders of the daily special, please.”

“Very well, sir.”

“What’s the daily special?” I asked when he was gone.

“I have no idea.”

I gave Mathis a grateful smile. The waiter returned right away with our soup, chanterelle mushroom. I lifted my spoon to my lips. The taste was wonderful and raised my spirits.

“I don’t want to be tied down.”

“Excuse me?” Surprised, I looked up.

“I don’t want to be tied down,” Mathis repeated.

He’d started his explanation. Now I just had to get through it.

“I’ve told you a lot of things, Nele,” he continued. “Mostly about my past. I want you to know, I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told any other person, except maybe my therapist. All this has made me stop and think about what I want from the future.

“You see, my whole life, I’ve always been tied down to one place, or I’ve had to take care of some other person. I took on a lot of responsibility as a child, as you know—much earlier than most people in modern times. In the years after the war, I was far from the only child taking on serious obligations. Many people faced destinies much harder than mine. But Uwe’s illness meant that I was permanently stuck. My parents relied on me, and there was no way to escape this responsibility.