An Uncommon Family

by Christa Polkinhorn

  “She left about fifteen minutes ago with Ivor,” Karl, one of the actors, told him.

  Jonas felt his heartbeat speed up. Ivor was a Swedish actor known for his womanizing. Jonas knew that he was after Eva. She had even told him laughingly one night. “He doesn’t interest me. He’s a good actor but a windbag.” So why did she leave with him?

  “Have a drink.” Karl pointed at the empty chair next to him.

  “No thanks, another time.” Jonas lifted his hand to wave good-bye. He stepped outside and stopped in front of the theater. There was a poster at the entrance with Eva’s picture on it. She had a part in Mother Courage by Bertolt Brecht. Jonas peered at the photo. She played a poor woman, dressed in rags, with dirty limp hair falling into her face, but even so she was beautiful. No wonder she turned every man’s head. A wave of anger flooded him, followed by shame. I don’t deserve her.

  Outside, the cold, wet air of a gloomy November evening brushed across his face and a dank smell from wet leaves hung in the air. Jonas shivered and pulled up his coat collar and buried his hands in his pockets. He stopped, not sure what to do. Should he call her? Go by her place? What if she was with Ivor? He couldn’t bear it, but not knowing was even worse. He walked across the street to the tram station and boarded one of the blue-and-white streetcars. He sat down at the window and looked out into the darkening night. At the Zentral station, he got off and took a different tram, which brought him up to the University of Zurich. Eva lived in an apartment nearby.

  It was one of the old houses, which dated back to the nineteenth century. It had been renovated several times and combined old-fashioned elegance with a few gestures toward modernity. The stone walls of the house had been painted a light yellow, and the green lacquered old-fashioned shutters gave the heavy building a cheerful touch.

  Jonas stood in front of the house, looking up to Eva’s apartment. There was light in the living room; she must be home. Perhaps he was wrong. She may have just left at the same time as Ivor by accident, thinking Jonas wouldn’t come anymore. He saw someone walk by the balcony door. It was Eva. Just as Jonas was getting ready to ring the bell, he saw a second figure. He didn’t recognize who it was, since the person stood farther back from the window. Eva turned around and seemed to say something to the person. Then the two disappeared. Jonas waited, his heart beating fast. What should he do? Should he just go inside and confront her? But if it was Ivor, they’d just make up an excuse and Jonas would look like a fool. After all, Eva had the right to invite whomever she wanted into her apartment. Jonas waited for a while, hoping the guy—Jonas assumed it was a man—would step closer to the window, but nothing happened.

  Jonas knew what he was about to do was wrong. Eva was somewhat of a flirt but she had never given him any real reason to distrust her. His suspicions clouded his mind, but he couldn’t help it. He took a deep breath and went into the small yard at the side of the house. A drainpipe led from the roof along the balcony to the ground. About two feet up from the ground, there was a slight protrusion in the wall, and another larger one somewhat higher up. From there, he could get a good look inside the apartment.

  Jonas looked around, feeling like an intruder. He hesitated, then held on to the pipe and pulled himself up, holding the pipe with one hand and reaching for the first jutting stone with the other hand. He was just about to reach for the second one when he slipped. He held on to the pipe, but one of the clamps connecting the pipe to the wall came off and he slid down the wall, scratching his hand and ripping his pants. There was a loud metallic bang as he pushed against the pipe. He fell to the ground; his hand was bleeding and there was a tear in his pant leg.

  The balcony door opened. Eva stepped outside and looked around. Jonas tried to find somewhere to hide but Eva spotted him right away.

  “What’s going on? What happened to you?” She stared at him stunned.

  “Nothing, I . . .”

  The visitor stepped out onto the balcony. It was Eva’s mother. “Jonas? What a surprise. Why don’t you come in?”

  Eva narrowed her eyes and her face was flooded with anger.

  “Eva, I’m sorry, I can explain,” Jonas stuttered.

  “Go away.” Eva grabbed her mother’s arm and tried to drag her inside.

  “But Eva?” Her mother looked at her puzzled.

  “Never mind, Mom. Come on.” Eva turned to Jonas. “Don’t try to contact me. Just leave me alone.”

  “Eva, please . . .” But the balcony door was shut and Eva pulled the drapes.

  Jonas slinked away like a beggar. His hand was bleeding, his pants were torn, his heart was crushed, and he felt like a complete fool.

  Anna laughed after Jonas finished telling her the story. “You poor guy, that must have been horrible. But you obviously made up again.”

  Jonas grinned. “Yeah, it took a while. Fortunately, Eva’s mother liked me and intervened on my behalf. But she took me aside one day and told me to get my feelings of jealousy under control or I would drive Eva away for good. Eva had been strong-willed and independent even as a child. The minute she felt tied down or trapped, she’d rebel. However, she was also a very loyal person.

  “So I had to learn to trust her and it wasn’t always easy.” Jonas gave a wistful smile. “But it was worth it.”

  Anna and Jonas were quiet for a while, gazing at the falling snow. Anna got up and extinguished a few of the candles that had burned down on the Christmas tree, then sat down again.

  Jonas faced her. “What about you, Anna? You were married once, weren’t you?” He could almost feel the woman tense up. Her face hardened and she stared down at her hands. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Jonas hastened to say. He hesitated, then lightly touched her arm. She seemed to stiffen even more, but then relaxed and exhaled. “It’s a long . . . and intense story,” she murmured.

  “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s obviously too painful for you.”

  Anna’s shoulders slumped and she looked up at him. “I want to tell you one day, but not tonight. I’d rather wait until we have more time. I’m getting a little tired.”

  Jonas looked at the clock. “No wonder. It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

  PART THREE

  Chapter 23

  Anna sat at her desk in front of the window, gazing at the signs of spring, the yellow and white crocuses, which had shot up spontaneously on the lawn in front of the house. The hazel bushes along the forest were in full bloom. It was a quiet morning. Karla was spending part of her spring break in the south of Switzerland with Lena and her friends. Lena had been a close friend of Karla’s mother when she and Karla still lived in the Ticino.

  Anna was in the process of making up a list of new books she wanted to order for the library. She also prepared for a couple of events for the bookstore: a storytelling hour for children and their parents and a reading of new books in the evening for the adults.

  Maintaining the bookstore was a constant struggle. It was the only one in town and well liked by the people of the small community. However, the village was only half an hour away from the city of Zurich and many people preferred to shop in the city, where there was a much greater choice of shops and stores. Anna had to constantly think of new ideas to attract customers. Her readings for adults and story hours for the kids were popular, particularly among the older generation and the young children. The adolescents, however, preferred the more glamorous environment of the city with its movie theaters and video stores.

  So far, Anna had been able to make a small profit, but for her it was mainly a labor of love. Had it been for the money, she would have sold the store long ago.

  It was a gloomy morning outside. In the north, gray-white clouds towered over the mountains. Anna got up to pour herself another cup of coffee when the phone rang. It was Jonas.

  “They are playing Cavalleria Rusticana at the opera house. Would you be interested?”

&n
bsp; Anna faltered for a moment. It was a piece of music she loved but it was associated with both a happy and an intensely sad time in her life.

  “Yes, of course,” she finally said.

  “You’re sure?” Jonas must have picked up on her hesitation.

  “Yes, the name of the opera just reminded me of something . . . problematic in the past. But I love the piece.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up.”

  After Anna hung up the phone, she sat at her desk, looking out the window, daydreaming. She was halfway aware of the gray-white sheets of fog floating by. Toward the south, patches of blue sky were visible.

  What a coincidence, she thought. It was during that very opera at the Lincoln Center back in New York City that Nico had kissed her for the first time. And ten years later, after a performance of the same opera, Anna’s life fell apart. Was it fate that Jonas invited her to the same piece of music? Was it a bad omen?

  Jonas was different from Nico. He was a quieter person, not as sparkling as Nico had been. He was kind and gentle with people but intense and passionate about his work. Karla loved him, and Anna once in a while thought he would be a good substitute father for her.

  What about my feelings for him? Over the past years, Anna had pushed away any upcoming thoughts or feelings about getting involved with a man. She was content, fulfilled with her work and with Karla. And she wanted to keep it that way, or did she?

  Lately, she had caught herself thinking about Jonas more than she wanted to admit. She focused more on her appearance. She chose more colorful outfits, she experimented with makeup. Her hairdresser convinced her to add highlights to give her brown hair more vibrancy.

  The changes weren’t lost on the people around her. “And who is the lucky guy?” a friend asked her.

  “I like that aquamarine blouse, Anna,” Karla said. She had just learned the name of the color. Anna noticed Jonas’s admiring looks. And every once in a while, she questioned her motive behind all this “beautification” and asked herself what she was trying to do.

  And then one night she woke up, feeling sexually aroused, and she knew she had dreamt of Jonas. She got up, brushed her hair from her damp forehead. “Stupid cow,” she muttered. She sat next to the window. The first sun rays of the day bathed the top of the pine and birch trees of the woods nearby in a halo of suffused light. Anna felt her eyes fill with tears, blurring the landscape in front of her. What’s happening to me? She shook her head, brushed her hand across her face.

  In the evening, Anna stood in front of her closet and perused her wardrobe. She took out a black dress she usually wore when going to a concert. It was elegant . . . and boring. She put it back and sighed. After some deliberation, she chose a two-piece turquoise silk outfit. She put on some eye makeup and lipstick, stepped back, and looked at herself in the mirror. She shook her head. Her comfortable shoes didn’t match the outfit. She chose a pair of high-heeled pumps she hadn’t worn in years. They felt tight on her feet but they looked the part. My feet are going to kill me, why am I doing this to myself?

  She turned around and looked at herself from all sides. A smile spread across her face and made her look ten years younger. Oh well, why not? So my feet hurt. We’ll be sitting in the theater most of the time. She shrugged her shoulders and picked out a matching purse. She looked at her watch. It was six o’clock. Jonas would pick her up in half an hour. They were going to have a bite to eat before the concert.

  Anna sat down in the living room, kicked off her shoes, and looked at her feet, which were already starting to hurt. All of a sudden, she burst out laughing. She felt ridiculous but strangely happy. She got up and walked barefoot into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She stood next to the window, taking small sips of the cool liquid. Outside, the sky had cleared; the last bit of fog dissolved.

  Soon afterward, Jonas drove up in his Volvo. Anna watched him through the window. He was dressed in a dark suit, light-green shirt, and a green-and-turquoise patterned tie. Anna had to admit, he was good-looking. He was of medium height and somewhat square. His body was still firm with the exception of the beginning of a little pooch, which wasn’t visible under the suit. He had cut his wild white hair somewhat and trimmed his beard.

  He smiled at her as she waited for him at the door; his clear, blue eyes, surrounded by a wreath of wrinkles, sparkled. “You look beautiful, as always,” he greeted her.

  “Thanks,” Anna said. “We match,” she added with a chuckle and pointed at his tie and her dress.

  “Hey, you’re right.” He gave her a quick hug. Anna smelled the discreet scent of his eau de cologne and thought of the sensuous dream of the other night. She turned around and pretended to fiddle with the lock in the door in order to hide her flushed face.

  The drive to the city took about thirty minutes. As they approached the opera house, which was at the Bellevue plaza right at the beginning of the lake, Jonas wondered if they should park the car in a parking garage nearby and walk to the theater, since the few spots next to the theater were usually taken.

  Oh, no, my feet, Anna thought. “Hmm . . . as long as it’s not too far. I’m . . . not wearing the most comfortable shoes.”

  Jonas grinned. “How stupid of me. I forgot. Women and their shoes. Why don’t I let you off at the restaurant and then go and park the car? Or I could carry you.” His ice-blue eyes had a mischievous glint.

  Luckily, they did find a spot right next to the restaurant. Jonas parked the car and helped Anna out. “They are nice, though,” he said, pointing at Anna’s shoes. “Very sexy.”

  Anna, all flustered, stumbled and held on to Jonas’s arm. He put his arm around her. “Careful, careful.”

  Anna, feeling utterly ridiculous, started to laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to all this.”

  “Not used to what?” he asked.

  “You know, going out, picking out the right clothes, dressing up, and all that.”

  “I don’t know why you worry. You look beautiful,” Jonas said with a serious face.

  “Thanks,” Anna whispered.

  “I’m not used to going out much either,” Jonas said. “We have to do this more often. You know, practice makes perfect.”

  Jonas had picked a restaurant next to the opera house with the meaningful name Belcanto. It was a modern but elegant place with huge windows facing the lake, reddish-brown tapestry, and a row of murals with scenes from operas. A young waiter grabbed a handful of large menus and led them to a table next to the window.

  They ordered one of the specials, baked European perch with fresh herbs, vegetables, potatoes, and white wine. While Jonas perused the wine list, Anna glanced at the other guests. People were talking in hushed voices and there was a quiet elegance about the place. Now, Anna was glad she had dressed up. “This is a nice place,” she said to Jonas. “Do you come here often?”

  Jonas shook his head. “No, very rarely. My normal hangouts are a little more rustic. But I figured since I was going to the opera with a beautiful woman, I might as well do it in style.”

  Anna returned his smile, then lowered her eyes. Her face felt warm. She glanced at the lake. The sun had just set and the sky above the hill was ablaze with blotches of purple and red.

  At the theater, they sat in one of the loges with a good view of the stage. Anna enjoyed the festive atmosphere and decided to go to the theater more often. She hadn’t been out much, except to bookstores and museums. She was sure that Karla would enjoy it as well. They could go to a matinee once in a while.

  All of a sudden, the room darkened, there was a hush of voices, an occasional cough, and then it was silent. When the music began to play, Anna felt transported into the past. Nico was sitting next to her. His jet-black hair and blue eyes shone in the dim light. They had seen each other a few times and he had invited her to the opera in New York City. She had been nervous that evening, realizing she was falling in love. She smelled his aftershave, felt his touch, and a wave of sadness flooded her.

&n
bsp; But no, this was twenty-eight years later. It was Jonas’s eau de cologne she smelled, not her husband’s aftershave. Anna blinked a few times to clear her eyes and brushed a tear away. She felt someone touch her hand.

  “Are you all right?” Jonas whispered.

  Anna nodded and gave a quick smile. She took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts of the past to the back of her mind. In time, she was able to enjoy the music.

  After the concert, Jonas drove Anna home. She invited him in for coffee before his drive back to the city. They discussed the opera. Anna poured the coffee, handed a cup to Jonas, and took sip.

  “You mentioned before that the opera reminded you of something in your past,” Jonas said.

  “Yes.” Anna hesitated, then continued to speak in a low voice. “It reminded me of my husband.” Anna glanced at Jonas, then looked down at her hands. “Are you ready for the long story?”

  Jonas gave her an encouraging nod.

  Anna took a deep breath. “The first seven years of our marriage were wonderful,” she said.

  Chapter 24

  Anna and Nicolas lived in New York City. Nico worked for an engineering firm which had a subsidiary in Guadalajara, Mexico. Aside from her normal librarian work at the public library on Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street, Anna was now in charge of organizing special events such as readings by novelists and poets.

  Nico traveled to Mexico on a regular basis, working at the firm in Guadalajara. Once in a while, Anna accompanied him for a couple of days. She spent the days sightseeing, hanging out at museums, or enjoying the many sights and parks of the city.

  One summer, when Nico spent several weeks in Mexico working on a joint US and Mexican project, Anna joined him after a few weeks for a two-week stay in Guadalajara. Her library planned to put on a reading and presentation of a few Mexican writers and poets in the fall. Anna was to meet with them and organize the details.