Sea Air (18 page)

“Mathis has been acting funny?”

“Pretty much. And now that you mention it, this started right after he got back from vacation.”

That was interesting. “What’s he been doing?”

“Nothing.”

“But you said—”

“I mean, he’s doing nothing. That’s what’s so strange. Mathis is always doing
something
. Now he sits in the corner for hours, just brooding. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

I almost started to brighten at this revelation, but a cold shiver ran down my back as a thought occurred to me. Maybe he wasn’t brooding over me at all.

“Perhaps his girlfriend . . . ?” I suggested.

“What girlfriend?”

“A blond.”

“I don’t know anything about a blond.”

“They’ve been out together a lot lately.”

“You’re sure she’s his girlfriend?”

“It looked that way. They seemed pretty happy together, and very close.”

I felt relieved that Lars didn’t know anything about her, either. I hoped she wasn’t that important to Mathis yet.

“Whoever she is,” I said, “it doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want me.”

“You seem like a victim of circumstance,” Lars said. “Mathis is a man who loves his freedom. I’m sorry, Nele, but I wouldn’t hold out a lot of hope if I were you. When Mathis makes a decision, that’s it. I’m sure this isn’t about you.”

“It wasn’t about me when he dumped me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t, Lars. I don’t know him as well as you do.”

“Well, whatever the cause, Mathis is struggling. Whether that’s thanks to you, the blond, his old wanderlust, or some sort of midlife crisis, I can’t say. My best advice is to forget about him.” He got up from the couch. “Now I do have to go. Take care and let me know once you’ve set up an appointment with the mayor.” Then he was gone.

Forget about him
. I’d heard this advice plenty of times; I just wished I could bring myself to follow it.

T
he appointment was scheduled for December 21 at the mayor’s office, and the receptionist greeted Mathis like an old friend, chatting with him before the meeting. I felt myself getting more and more nervous, but nobody seemed to notice. It wasn’t our imminent presentation that had me on edge; I’d met with the mayor often enough. It was Mathis. He had just stepped out of his car when I arrived at city hall, and the blond was behind the wheel. She reached out and stroked his cheek as he got out and was laughing happily as she drove away. If Mathis noticed me watching him, he didn’t let on. He greeted me the way any business partner would greet another and without another word started up the steps, leaving me standing on the sidewalk near tears.

Inside, unlikely salvation arrived in the form of Herbert, my “Let’s go get some coffee” admirer. He walked out of the mayor’s office with a spring in his step, apparently having just concluded a successful negotiation with him. He was ridiculously pleased to see me.

“Nele, honey! What are you doing here? Are you coming or going?”

“I’m on my way to an appointment.”

“Oh, I was just going.” He looked disappointed. “Look, I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll be in the area for the next couple of hours. Why don’t you meet me for lunch when you’re done here? How about Lorenzo’s?” Then he tilted his head to my ear and whispered loudly enough that everyone close could hear. “It’s a very romantic spot.” I was just going to give a sharp answer when Mathis stepped in.

“The lady already has an appointment at noon. I’m afraid you’re too late. Nele, we need to go in now.” Mathis took my arm as if to pull me away. The mayor’s receptionist looked at us in astonishment, and Herbert stared at Mathis, openmouthed.

“But Mathis,” I said in a sweet voice, “that appointment was cancelled, remember? I’ve got plenty of time to go to Lorenzo’s with Herbert. But you’re right, we’ve got to go in now. Herbert, I’ll meet you in front of the restaurant. I’m looking forward to it!” I threw Herbert my brightest smile and walked toward the mayor’s office.

“Uh . . . me, too,” Herbert stammered.

One point for Nele,
I thought as I looked at Mathis’s face. He looked about ready to explode. Somehow, he managed to pull himself together in front of the mayor, who was oblivious to what had just happened and was welcoming us. I had no intention of going to lunch with Herbert; I wasn’t a masochist. I’d find some excuse to get out of it, but Mathis didn’t need to know that. He could burn quietly until he realized I wasn’t a toy he could throw away whenever he felt like it. If Herbert hadn’t showed up, would Mathis have actually invited me to lunch?

Not wanting to think about the answer to this, I focused my attention fully on my presentation. I’d been given a half an hour to explain our ideas, and I stayed completely in the zone. The mayor didn’t interrupt me even once. Mathis wasn’t inclined to say anything, either. He stubbornly stared at a quotation hung on the mayor’s wall, as if it were a divine message.

After my presentation, the mayor and I had a lively discussion; at first, Mathis remained stoically silent, but then he too jumped in fully. After almost two hours, I left feeling that we’d won the mayor over.

At that point, I would have gladly gone to a good restaurant with Mathis to discuss everything with him further and as a way of starting our short Christmas vacation. Mathis’s jealousy of Herbert had shown me that he did care whether I went with other guys. This soothed my nerves after having seen him with the blond.

“I think that went really well,” Mathis said. “We’ll see what happens after Christmas. Have a nice holiday, Nele.”

“You, too.”

Mathis looked into my eyes for several long moments, as if he wanted to say something. Then he shrugged and walked away.

“I love you, too, Mathis,” I whispered. Then I picked up my cell phone and cancelled lunch with Herbert.

“Paula, hurry up! I don’t want to get stuck in Christmas traffic.”

Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to get us out of spending Christmas with my family as I’d hoped. Paula insisted on decorating the tree with Grandpa on Christmas Eve. I needed her to hurry so that the trip itself wouldn’t push me over the edge and I could be halfway calm before facing the inevitable clashes with my brother’s family.

The only one of my siblings who’d come up with a semi-plausible excuse to skip the event was my brother Jochen. Ignoring my mother’s expressions of bitter disappointment, he’d stubbornly insisted he couldn’t ask his teenage daughter, Saskia, to appear at the party. She’d just gotten braces and, due to a significant problem with drooling while eating or speaking, refused to be seen by family. I assumed Jochen had subtly influenced this decision. I almost wished that Paula would need braces soon.

As I’d feared, the whole German population had taken to the road on Christmas Eve. The streets were hopelessly clogged, and the faces behind the windshields did not exude a peaceful holiday spirit.
Maybe they all had brothers like Frank, too,
I thought. Wasn’t there one in every family?

Frank gave me exactly the welcome I expected. I knew better by now than to expect anything different.

“There she is, the problem child. Alone as usual. Maybe if you got rid of those ancient jeans, a guy would take pity on you, Nele. Check out the silk outfit Cordula bought yesterday. Doesn’t she look gorgeous?”

My sister-in-law Cordula jumped up from the sofa and made several pirouettes. The sound of her laugh made me want to stuff Paula’s wool scarf, which I held in my hand, into her big mouth.

“Delightful,” I said. “But didn’t they have it in her size? Say, Cordula dearest, have you gained weight again?”

This saying was at least as old as my now ten-year acquaintance with Cordula and to a certain extent belonged to the family’s reunion ritual. But it was always nice to see Cordula’s horrified expression, as she stared down at her anorexic figure, nervously fiddling with her bleached-blond permed hair, her crowning glory.

Frank reacted predictably. “She’s just jealous, Cordula. Your curves are still the same as they’ve ever been.” With that, he grabbed his wife’s Wonderbra breasts and laughed crudely. Then my mother entered the festivities with a tray of coffee.

“Oh, good. Teasing each other already. There’s nothing so beautiful as a family gathering on Christmas Eve.” Inspired by her perception of family happiness, my mother sat down next to her daughter-in-law and patted her knee. “Doesn’t Cordula look extra beautiful, Nele?” She gave my tattered jeans a look of disappointment and sighed. “Poor Nele. I’m afraid you can’t afford such nice things. Don’t worry. I’m sure someday you’ll meet a man who will provide for you. Did I already tell you who’s getting married next week? On New Year’s Day? If that isn’t a fine idea, I don’t know what is—”

We were interrupted by a heart-stopping squeal.

“Is one of your neighbors slaughtering a pig today?” I asked, honestly astonished. Maybe the people next door had forgotten to buy a holiday roast? Oddly, the squealing sound kept getting closer and soon was right in the room.

“Olivia, pumpkin, what is it? What happened?” Cordula’s hysterical screaming nearly drowned out her daughter’s squeals, but Olivia-pumpkin met the challenge and turned things up a notch. Even my mother instinctively covered her ears.

“They . . . they ha-have . . . My GLO-ho-ria is . . .” She couldn’t get the words out. Unfortunately, she didn’t need to, because Paula and Anton were now standing at the door, grinning, with the evidence of Olivia’s distress in their hands. Anton waved the head and right arm of Olivia’s Barbie doll in the air while Paula swung Gloria’s torso over her head.

“You brats!” shouted Frank. He jumped from his chair, and Paula and Anton ran toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms, presumably the site of the beheading. In a flash, they’d locked the door. Frank pounded on it, screaming,
“Get out here now, you monsters!”

“What happened here?” I heard an amused-sounding voice behind me.

“Sabine!” Genuinely happy to see another sane person in my parents’ house, I gave my sister a warm hug. She grinned and took in the bundle of still-screaming pink tulle, wrapped in the arms of her desperate mother.

“Olivia, please stop crying or your beautiful dress will melt.” Sabine spoke in such a serious tone that our niece forgot to squeal for a moment and looked down at her dress in a panic.

“What is wrong with you people, anyway?” Cordula ran out of the room, pulling her squealing daughter behind her. “Fraaaank! Come on, we’re leaving right now! I refuse to stay here a minute longer with your horrible sisters and their awful children!”

“Wait, Cordula dear! Don’t run off! Sabine didn’t mean anything and you know kids do bicker!” My mother ran after her. Furiously, Frank marched in, grabbed his things, and stormed out of the room without even looking at us. Sabine and I heard the sound of car doors slamming, an S-class engine revving up, tires screeching, and then nothing more.

“Whew!” Sabine glanced at her watch. “That’s a new record. We haven’t even exchanged Christmas presents yet. Let’s drink to that. I’ll get the champagne.”

“What happened? Did Frank forget something or are his creditors chasing him?” My father gave me a questioning look. Sabine’s husband, Günther, stood next to him, smiling. The two were just getting back from a brisk walk across the fields, something they did every time they got together. Cold air rose off their thick coats. I hugged them both.

“Oh, Anton and Paula beheaded Olivia’s Barbie, and Cordula wasn’t amused. Neither was Olivia, so Frank felt obliged to—”

“I get it. Say no more. But where’s Paula? I still haven’t seen her.”

“Upstairs, probably holding a memorial service for Gloria.”

“I’ll go up now and have a look. Maybe they need some support.” A minute later, I heard Paula’s cheers and gathered that Grandpa had found her.

Sabine, Günther, and I clicked our champagne glasses together as my mother came into the room, her fingertips pressed to her temples in dramatic fashion. “I think I’m getting a migraine. I’m going to go lie down. You should be ashamed for upsetting the children.” With that, she was gone.

Other than that, it was a lovely Christmas Eve.

“Oh God, I feel sick!” Ines put her hand over her mouth and ran from the room. Sandra and I heard the sound of violent gagging come from the bathroom.

“Poor thing, when’s it ever going to end for her? We women sure have to put up with a lot.” Shaking her head, Sandra snapped up the last snail.

“Sandra, are you pregnant? That’s your fourth snail. You know, weird cravings can be a sign that—”

“Are you kidding? I don’t even want to think about getting pregnant again. You know that.”

“Well, sometimes things happen when you least expect it. And with a book contract now, you could actually have a larger family because—”

“Forget it!” Sandra licked away crumbs from the corners of her mouth. “Christoph and I are both sure we’re done. Anneke’s so big and independent now. She dresses herself, she goes to school alone, and nobody has to wipe her butt . . . Mmm. These snails are good.”

“Well, she’s not independent enough to get herself home from birthday parties yet. What time are we supposed to pick the girls up?”

“Seven. Whoops! We need to go now. It’s just so cozy here at Ines’s, I almost forgot my own child. Where is Ines, by the way?”

We listened for sounds coming from the bathroom, but we didn’t hear anything. Everything suddenly seemed too quiet. Sandra and I shot out of our chairs and ran toward the bathroom.

“Oh my God! Ines!”

We found Ines on the floor of the bathroom, very still and pale as a ghost. As we moved to help her up, Sandra let out a cry.

“She’s bleeding! Oh my God, Nele, Ines’s head is bleeding. Ines, what’s the matter? Please open your eyes!”

But Ines didn’t respond. We panicked.

“Hurry, Sandra, call the ambulance! I’ll get something to throw over her. She’s really cold.”

I ran into the bedroom and grabbed whatever blankets I could find.
Dear God, please don’t let this be bad.
Not Ines, please not Ines! And the child! Don’t let her lose the baby.
Gently, I covered Ines, but I didn’t dare lift her up to push the blanket under her.
Shit,
I thought,
the tiles are so cold, she can’t stay here like this
. But there was no telling how bad her head injury was, and I knew I shouldn’t move her.

“The ambulance is on the way.” Sandra knelt beside Ines and stroked her cheek. “Come on, Ines. Please, say something! Why isn’t the goddamn ambulance here?” She started to cry. Soon we heard the siren, and I rushed to the door to let the paramedics in. We later learned that it took the ambulance just seven minutes to get to Ines’s. It felt like an eternity to us.

“She’s pregnant,” I told the doctor as he began to examine her head wound carefully.

“How far along is she?”

“About eighteen weeks.”

“We’ll take her directly to the hospital. She’s hit her head somehow, and her blood pressure is unstable. Was she showing any symptoms before this happened?”

“She was throwing up,” I said, “from the pregnancy. She’s been pretty sick for a few weeks.”

The EMTs put Ines carefully onto a stretcher and carried her to the ambulance. I wanted to jump in with her, but one of them told me to follow in my own car. “University Hospital,” he said. “Call her husband.” And the ambulance drove away.

Oh God! Marco! He didn’t know yet.

“I can’t reach Marco. I think his cell phone’s off!” Sandra came running out of the house. Now what?

“He went somewhere with Tristan. Where did Ines say they went?”

“Shit, I don’t remember. Maybe Christoph knows.” Sandra dialed her husband’s cell number, but the call went straight to voice mail.

“Not there. What’s the point in having one of these fucking things if no one can reach you!” Sandra paced nervously. “What do we do now?”

“You drive to University Hospital. One of us needs to stay with Ines. I’ll find Marco—he’s got to be somewhere. I’ll meet you there as quickly as I can.”