by Dora Heldt
I took a deep breath and lit up a cigarette.
At that moment my cell rang. Richard.
“It’s me. Is it all done?”
“Richard. Yes, all over, it didn’t even last half an hour.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Good, but I’d really like to celebrate and can’t get hold of anyone.”
“Christine, I…”
Realizing he had misunderstood, I interrupted him. “I didn’t mean you. Well, of course I did, but in particular my girlfriends in Hamburg. I can’t get hold of any of them.”
Richard’s voice sounded a little relieved. “Oh, the girls will be in touch soon, I’m sure. I’m looking forward to Monday, very much.”
Every time we spoke he caressed my soul. “I’m looking forward to it too. Until Monday then.”
We hung up. I parked in front of my apartment. I went to the door, noticing the name sign next to my bell. Bernd’s name. I had decided to take back my maiden name. I’d get a new sign made next week. Thinking about it gave me a nice feeling. I had no mail, no messages on my answering machine.
Edith voiced my fears. No one’s interested in your divorce. They’re acting as if it were nothing more significant than a trip to the dentist. That’s sad.
Before my thoughts could go down the same path, the doorbell rang. I pressed the buzzer and Dorothea climbed up the stairs. She had a white rose in her hand.
“Miss Christine, you are now officially set free from your baggage. Congratulations.”
I closed the door behind her and followed her into the kitchen.
“I could be coping really badly, you know. You can’t congratulate someone on their divorce!”
I filled a narrow vase with water and put the rose in it. Dorothea sank down onto a chair and unbuttoned her coat. “But you’re not coping badly. Why would you be? Just take a look at yourself. You never looked this good when you were a wife, your friends are more beautiful and much wittier, your bank account is fuller, and you’re having better sex.”
I sat opposite her. “What do you know about my sex life? And none of my witty friends have been in touch.”
Dorothea laughed and buttoned her coat back up. “You always have better sex with lovers, like I do with Nils. Anyway, I’m not stopping; I was coming by to pick you up. It’s cocktail evening tonight in Café Wien. I got some vouchers from my mother, so we’re going there and we’re going to get drunk.”
She stood up.
I groaned. “Dorothea, I only just got back, and I’m not really in the mood.”
I felt like she wasn’t taking me seriously.
She ignored my answer and took my jacket from the hall stand.
“Come on, put it on. I’m driving.”
Reluctantly, I obeyed.
Dorothea found a space right in front of the bar. The café was lit with fairy lights, and the surface of the Alster was twinkling. I thought of Marleen and that first weekend when she had visited me when I was miserable. We had bought lingerie and drank Prosecco here. That had been one of the very first good days. Many, many more had come since then.
I smiled at Dorothea as she walked behind me. “You know, maybe this was a good idea. Perhaps people really should celebrate divorces.”
“Not the divorces themselves, but their new life, yes.”
I opened the entrance door and walked over to the first free table. Dorothea walked on by, which surprised me, but I followed her. I suddenly saw a long table filled with flowers and a champagne cooler. They were all there, raising their glasses. Luise, Leonie, Michael, Nina, Franziska, Ines, Georg, even Marleen.
I was speechless, and I just stared at them all. I couldn’t say a word.
Dorothea pressed a glass into my hand and said to the others, “Don’t worry, she’s not silent because she’s upset, she’s just worried she has to pay for all this.”
Multiple voices cried out in reproachful unison. “Dorothea!”
I started to laugh and hugged Ines, who had gotten up and was standing in front of me.
“It’s so wonderful that you’re all here. And I thought no one cared about my divorce.”
Ines took a step back and looked at me. “So how was it?”
I thought about it. “Quick, strange, and painless. I’m just happy that that chapter is over.”
Ines handed me a narrow package. “This is for you, so you’ve got it in writing too.”
I unwrapped the paper. Nine pairs of eyes watched me. A door sign. My maiden name was inscribed in black, curving script on a silver background. I felt choked with emotion. Not grief, but a mixture of pride, thankfulness, and confidence.
Marleen stood up, raised her glass, and looked around the table, then at me.
“So, welcome back. Here’s to your life never being peaceful and well-ordered again. I’m convinced that you will achieve everything you set out to do.”
Dorothea popped the next champagne cork. I looked at the faces around me, at the lights that were lining the water’s edge, at my new door sign, and then at my ring. I felt like I had arrived. And I felt very strong. Edith and Charlotte were in agreement for once.
Then I drank champagne.
About the Author
Dora Heldt was born on the North Sea island of Sylt, Germany. She works as a publisher’s sales representative and currently lives in Hamburg. Life After Forty is the first of Heldt’s bestsellers to be published in English.
About the Translator
Jamie Lee Searle is a freelance translator and reviewer of German language literature for publications such as New Books in German. She translates literary fiction, including short stories and texts by authors such as Feridun Zaimoglu and Ralf Rothmann, for publishing houses and cultural organizations throughout Europe and the U.S. She lives in London. In 2010, she cofounded the publishing collective And Other Stories, which seeks to promote and publish international literature in translation in the United Kingdom.