by Dora Heldt
A Second Chance
* * *
My alarm went off at half past six. I jumped up with a start, knocking it from the table in the process. It went silent at once. I swung my legs out of bed and sat there for a second while I woke up properly. Then I saw my phone, which I’d put on silent next to the bed. There were no calls or messages.
We’d told my father that the flowers weren’t being delivered until half past nine. Marleen was worried Heinz might discover he had some hidden floristry talents too. I had tried to reassure her. “Marleen, he’s completely color-blind and wouldn’t know a rose from a rhubarb.”
“Yes, exactly,” she’d answered, “that’s why I’m not taking any chances. Surely even you wouldn’t believe that he’d look at the delivery without coming up with some creative idea. No, let him come once everything’s decorated and sorted. I don’t have time to argue tomorrow morning.”
I pulled on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt and crept into the bathroom. After brief contemplation, I reached for my toothbrush and put it in the pocket of my jeans. It would be better to brush my teeth at Marleen’s than risk waking up my father.
When I got to the guesthouse I could already smell the coffee. There were full thermos flasks in the kitchen. I took a mug from the cupboard and poured.
“Morning, Christine. Did you wake him up?”
“Morning, no, the alarm only went off once before I turned it off. Heinz didn’t hear a thing.”
I handed Marleen the mug and she took it, relieved.
“Great, thank God. We’re free to arrange the flowers in peace.”
There was a snapping sound as I sat down. I jumped right back up again.
“What was that?”
I pulled my broken toothbrush from my pocket. “I didn’t want to make noise in the bathroom, so I thought I’d brush my teeth here. I guess I can’t now though.”
The handle wasn’t even an inch long now. Maybe it could still be used for bathroom cleaning purposes, but certainly not for brushing teeth.
“Well, it’ll fit in all your handbags now, and I’ve got a new one in my bathroom you can use.”
She pushed the coffeepot toward me. “Did you get hold of him?”
“Who?” It was more the early hour than coyness that made me ask.
“Who do you think? Gisbert von Meyer, of course. To discuss the final details of your engagement. No, Johann.”
“No, I phoned about twenty times, but it was always just his stupid mailbox. Then I left a message asking him to call me back, but nothing. Now I don’t know what to do.”
“He’ll be in touch.” Marleen stood up. “It’s nearly seven. We should go over now—the flowers will be here soon. I’ll bring the coffee.”
“Okay, but I just need to brush my teeth first. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay, the toothbrush is in the bathroom cabinet, second drawer.”
“I’ll be quick.”
As I crossed the courtyard ten minutes later, my breath minty fresh, I heard a soft whistle.
Hoping it wouldn’t be one of the troop of retirees, I turned around slowly.
He was sitting on a pile of boxes next to the bike shed, looking at me. I felt like I’d been hit by lightning; my knees went weak as I walked hesitantly toward him.
“Hello, Christine.”
“Hello, Johann. Sorry, Johannes. I guess I misheard when you told me your name.”
He stood up and came a few steps toward me. I could smell his cologne. His voice was very gentle and very quiet.
“Can we go down to the beach? I’d really like to explain everything to you.”
“What are you thinking?” I pointed at the bar. “The guests will be here in four hours. I called you again and again yesterday, you didn’t get in touch once, and now you snap your fingers and expect me to drop everything?”
Why did he get me so worked up? And why was he so laid-back and confident? He took a step back and smiled.
“Okay, we’ll postpone it then. By the way, you look beautiful in that old T-shirt. And you smell of peppermint. Okay, until later then.”
He blew me a kiss and went back down the drive. Either he was incredibly callous or the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.
“Johaaaaaanes?”
His gentle brown eyes glanced around at me over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“What about your wallet?”
He tapped his jeans pocket. “Marleen already gave it to me. I’ve got it safely tucked away. Thank you.”
As he disappeared around the corner, the flower delivery van drove in. I waved to the driver and realized my hands were shaking.
The two women who got out of the van handed me a box of individual roses. Marleen appeared behind me.
“Morning Jutta, morning Gudrun, you guys are very punctual. Christine, let me past, could you?”
I turned around and went over to the bar with my box, the scent of Johann’s cologne still in my nose. In the entrance I stopped and wondered where I should put it.
“Christine, move yourself. Put it down somewhere; the whole van still needs to be unloaded.”
“You saw him too, right? Johann, I mean.”
“Yes, of course. I gave him his wallet back.”
“Did he say anything about his name?”
“I didn’t have time to ask. And we don’t have time to talk about it right now. Please, otherwise Heinz, Kalli, and Hubert will come in and start making awful garlands.”
She was right. I went over to help with the unloading.
By nine o’clock, with the help of Jutta and Gudrun, whose names I’d had to ask more than once, we’d decorated the bar fit for a party with artful flower arrangements and a sea of rose petals. Marleen took a step back and looked at everything with satisfaction.
“Great. Thank you, you two, you’ve been such a great help. So, come back at eleven, okay?”
Jutta wiped her hands on a cloth and nodded. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss it. It looks wonderful, by the way. Congratulations, Marleen.”
“All you need is the right people with the right ideas, then this place will turn into a goldmine.” My father’s cheerful voice made Marleen jump.
“Good morning, Heinz. Have you already had breakfast?”
“No, Hubert hasn’t gotten his act together yet, so I thought I’d check things out over here quickly. Are the flowers staying like that?”
“What do you mean ‘like that’?” asked Gudrun, confused.
Heinz hesitated. “Well…I just think they look a bit messy. Long and short stems all mixed up and—”
“They’re staying like that.” Marleen’s voice was firm.
Appeasingly, Heinz laid his hand on Marleen’s shoulder. “They’re okay like that. Really pretty, actually. And so colorful. It’s not a church, our bar.” He avoided our looks. “But you’re already finished, so I’ll go and have breakfast. I’m sure Kalli will be here soon.”
He took a few steps, then turned back around. “Oh, Christine, we still have to get changed. I’m not taking you to the opening looking like that. Even if you do match the messy flowers.”
He tapped his cap and made his way back to the guesthouse. Gudrun watched him go, looking a little confused.
“I saw him in the paper, didn’t I? Isn’t he that famous tour guide?”
“Something like that.” Marleen paid the delivery bill. “It’s hard to explain without going into detail.”
We all met up in the courtyard at half past ten. My father wore a gray pair of trousers and a dark blue blazer with gold buttons. I’d stuffed the bonbon shirt in the washing machine. He sulked, but agreed to wear a white shirt. Kalli came in a blue suit, Carsten in a gray one. When Onno turned up in a cord blazer, he was met with skeptical looks.
“Didn’t you have anything smart in your wardrobe?” Kalli picked a thread from Onno’s shoulder.
“Why? This is practically new. And the trousers are smart. It’s not like I’m going to a fu
neral. And besides, suits make you look old.”
Marleen was wearing a white trouser suit. My father whistled softly when he saw her. Marleen smiled at him.
“Thank you. You all look very dashing. Has Hubert already gone?”
“Yes, he’s gone down to the harbor. You’ll have to make sure you take care when you’re eating. Any stain will really show up on that white.”
She nodded, then looked over his shoulder and stiffened. “On second thought, I think I’ll change.”
Gisbert had appeared, also in a white suit, carrying a houseplant under his left arm, a backpack over his shoulder, and a camera in front of his chest.
“Marleen, congratulations on the opening, on behalf of the editorial team, too. Oh look, we’re matching today. Hello, Christine. That’s very pretty, your dress.”
“Gisbert.” My father clapped him on the shoulder, making the leaves on the plant tremble. “Take a few pictures then, while everything’s looking shipshape. And of the buffet, too, that won’t last long.”
“What is there to eat?” Onno peered through the door. “Is it something hot?”
“There’s everything,” said Kalli in admiration. “I had a look already. They’ve done a great job.”
Carsten looked toward the driveway. “What’s taking Hubert so long? I thought he was just picking Theda up from the ferry, but it docked ages ago.”
“He’s picking something up for me too.” My father whispered conspiratorially. “Our present.”
At that moment the first guests came around the corner. Laden with flowers, dressed smartly, and smiling, they made their way to the entrance of the restaurant, where Marleen had positioned herself to greet everyone.
“Should we maybe form a line? So people see that we’re part of the team?”
“Dad, please don’t. Just leave the meeting and greeting to Marleen.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that…Kalli, Onno, Carsten, come with me. We can at least stand alongside her. And Christine, maybe you can hand around a few glasses of champagne.”
At that moment a young woman appeared, wearing a long black apron and balancing a tray of glasses.
“Can I offer you something?”
“Who are you?” My father immediately took a glass and openly scrutinized her.
“My name is Suse. I’m serving drinks here with two of my colleagues.”
“Aha. Christine, listen, you could have managed that together with Dorothea and Gesa. Tell me, Suse, how much are you getting paid per hour?”
“Dad!” I took a glass quickly. “Thank you, Suse. By the way, some new guests have just come in over there.”
Gradually, the space in front of the restaurant began to fill with people, and the first started to filter inside.
“Shall we go in too?”
My father looked around. “Dorothea isn’t here yet. Nor Hubert. And where’s Nils?”
“He’s picking his mother up.” Carsten let his gaze wander over the guests. “Ah, there they are. Here, hello, we’re over here.”
He went over to his wife and son, just as Gisbert positioned himself next to Marleen, his legs spread wide, and gesticulated wildly with his camera. He looked like a paparazzo.
“If he starts bellowing at the mayor’s wife to give him a smile or calls her baby, Marleen’s going to knock him out.”
Dorothea had crept up behind me and was watching Gisbert, her eyebrows raised.
“Why aren’t we going in? What are we waiting for?”
“For Hubert and Theda and my present.” My father looked at Dorothea. “Don’t you think that dress is cut a little low? Kalli said the pastor is coming, too.”
“Oh, Heinz.” She laid her hand on his arm and gave him a sugary smile. “I’d be happy to say we don’t know each other. No problem.”
Gisbert put himself back in position and gave it all he had. The subject of his attention had clearly reckoned with a lot of press. Frau Weidemann-Zapek looked like a cloud of vanilla, chiffon upon layer of chiffon; she must have frittered away around a hundred meters of material on that dress. And, because it was such a successful design, her friend Frau Klüppersberg was wearing the same one in pistachio green. They teetered over to Marleen; both of them were wearing straw hats with chiffon bands fluttering down behind them. They smiled and waved all around them. Gisbert surpassed himself, clicking away. It was like Hollywood on Nordeney.
“Look, Heinz.” Even Onno was impressed. “They look like the Gabor sisters.”
My father was just about to answer when he noticed something that made his expression harden.
“I don’t believe it!”
He stared at the approaching guests, pushed me aside, and walked over to the group standing near Marleen with long strides. We followed, Dorothea just behind me, then Kalli and Onno. I couldn’t see what had gotten him so worked up, but then I saw Gisbert let his camera sink in confusion and give my father a look of disbelief.
And then I recognized the couple standing in front of Marleen with a gift basket: Johann/Johannes in a light brown suit, his arm around the lady I had seen first in Gisbert’s photos and then in front of the guesthouse.
“That’s the con man with his victim,” whispered Kalli, tugging my dress agitatedly. “And what’s Heinz doing now?”
“Dad!” I tried to stop him. We were only a few yards away. “Wait! No!” I could already picture him getting involved in some bloody fight. At seventy-three years of age.
Onno overtook me. “Heinz, wait. You can’t go in alone.”
His voice sounded firm. It helped. My father stopped and turned around to us.
“Dorothea, ring the police. Onno and Kalli, corner him. And you, Christine, you stay here.”
“There’s Heinz.” The twins ran up to us, full of smiles.
“Take the children somewhere safe.”
My father may have looked like Paul Newman, but he sounded like Robert de Niro. He moved forward, flanked by Onno and Kalli. I gave Emily and Lena a sign to stay put and set off with Dorothea in pursuit of my father. The girls looked at me and obeyed.
Whether it was due to the expressions of the three musketeers, I don’t know. But once we reached the entrance, there was a deathly silence. Marleen was looking confusedly at the couple standing in front of her. On closer inspection the woman was at least seventy, and was holding Marleen’s hand in hers.
My father cleared his throat. “Marleen? Is there a problem?”
“Er, no, Heinz. This is Frau…”
The alleged victim of the con man turned around. She was perfectly made up, very well dressed, and introduced herself with a smoky voice.
“Margarete Tenbrügge. Pleased to meet you.”
She turned back to Marleen. Johann gave me a relaxed smile, which my father noticed. He took a step toward him and grabbed his arm.
“Would you please—”
“Heinz, leave it.” Marleen pushed my father aside and turned back to the old lady.
“Sorry, could you say that again please?”
Frau Tenbrügge smiled charmingly around at everyone. “It’s fine with me. You know, when I saw you for the first time,” she said to Marleen, “in the photos, I mean, you seemed much too young to me, but my brother is a grown man after all. And if you make him happy, then that’s how it should be. He deserves it.”
I had no idea what was going on. Nor, it seemed, did the others.
“You know, Marleen,” she continued. “I can call you Marleen, I hope? I sent Johannes ahead of me because I had a golf tournament and was pushed for time. I wanted him to see what you were like. But unfortunately, I suspect that he was a little clumsy in the way he went about it. He’s never been great at acting, even as a child. Oh well, at least we’ve met at last.”
My father seemed to take the words right out of my mouth. “I’m not understanding a word of this.”
“That’s the son of the Egg King.” Emily’s bright voice chimed in from the background.
“What?” I
tried in vain to make some sense out of the story. I didn’t succeed. Suddenly someone pushed into the group from behind.
“What’s the holdup?”
Hubert squeezed past Onno and Kalli and positioned himself next to Marleen.
“And there’s the Egg King.” Lena’s voice again. Hubert waved to the girls. Then he leaned over to Margarete Tenbrügge. “Hello, my dear. You and your curiosity and impatience. You have no idea what a mess you’ve gotten your nephew into.”
Nephew? Slowly, the puzzle in my head started to fall into place. Hubert laid his hand around Margarete’s shoulder. “Marleen, everyone, may I introduce my sister, Margarete. She couldn’t bear not having met my new love personally. But she didn’t have time, she was on a cruise for half the year.”
He stood on tiptoe and waved over our heads. We moved back a little and let Theda through. She was wearing a green suit that went perfectly with her short gray hair, smiling with her dimples as always. Hubert held his hand out toward her.
“And this, Margarete, is Theda. The love of my autumn years, Marleen’s aunt, and the former, emphasis being on former, owner of the guesthouse.”
Stunned, Margarete and Johann stared first at each other and then at Theda. Hubert’s sister gulped for a second, but quickly found her composure again.
“Oh, then I guess I’ve made a mistake. Johannes! I thought you asked who the guesthouse belongs to! Then we were barking up the wrong tree. Theda, I’m very pleased to meet you. Nothing against you Marleen, but this is much more pleasing to me.”
She linked arms with Theda and pulled her into the bar. “Let’s go and have a glass of champagne. My family calls me Pookie, by the way.”
I felt like I was going to faint.
My father looked Johann up and down uncertainly. “I’m not sure…”
Hubert came up to us. “Heinz, this is my son. Johannes, but we call him Johann. I didn’t know he was here as a private investigator in the services of my sister, otherwise I would have caught on much sooner.”
My father shrugged. “I know how it is. The first years you have the little ones sitting on your knee, and you’re explaining the world to them. And then suddenly you’re sitting at the breakfast table opposite complete strangers. I didn’t always have it easy with Christine either. Right, then, I think I need a beer now.”