Sea Air

by Meeringa, Jule

  “Oh, Paula, I was never angry with you for going on vacation with Anneke!” Where had she gotten that idea? “You had a lot of fun, right? That’s what matters to me.”

  “It was great.” Paula brightened a little. “Hey, Momma? Why can’t we live near the sea? It’s a lot nicer there than it is here.”

  “Because I work here and you go to school here.” Where was all this coming from?

  “Sandra said there are schools at the sea, too.”

  “Oh, so Sandra said that.”

  “Oh Momma, please! Let’s live at the sea!”

  “All your friends would be here,” I reminded her.

  “No, Anneke said she’d come, too.”

  “Do Sandra and Christoph know about her plans?”

  “No, but she’s going to tell them today.”

  “Paula, it’s really not that easy.”

  “Why not?”

  A very good question. Why not? “Well . . . you know what? Let’s play a game. How about Memory?”

  “Games are stupid; I want to go to the sea!”

  Paula wasn’t as easy to distract now as she’d been at age three.

  “I tell you what. I’ll talk with Sandra about this plan of yours, but we’ll just have to see what happens.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “I’m moving to the sea! I’m moving to the sea! I’m moving to the sea!” Paula danced around the apartment. “I’m going to go tell Anneke.” The door slammed behind her with a bang.

  “So, when are you moving?”

  “Moving?”

  “Paula says you’re moving to the sea.” Sandra grinned at me. She sat in the large wingback chair Christoph’s grandma had left her, her knees tucked up to her chin. The rain came down in torrents as we sat comfortably inside with our cups of tea.

  “Apparently, we’re taking Anneke with us.”

  “What?”

  “The girls have already figured it all out. They haven’t broken the news to you yet?”

  “So that’s why Anneke has been asking for boxes. She’s probably already packing.”

  “Poor things. Now what do we do?” I gave Sandra a perplexed look. The children were taking this quite seriously and were sure to be bitterly disappointed. I hoped Paula wouldn’t start dreaming about ways to escape her home, like I was. Or like Jürgen had.

  “We’re going to have to break the news gently.”

  Just then the children ran through the door, their cheeks red with excitement. “Can we get a pony when we move to the sea? Horseback riding on the beach is great. We saw it!” Anneke beamed at her mother like an angel. Both of the girls had taken riding lessons for years and were obsessed with horses.

  “When are you moving to the sea?” Sandra asked.

  “Soon. Momma said.” Paula looked from Sandra to me.

  “I didn’t say that, Paula,” I defended myself. “I just said I’d talk to Sandra about the idea.”

  “But it’s okay with Momma, because she already wants to live at the sea.” Anneke gave a dismissive wave of her hand, as if the matter of her parents had already been settled.

  “How did you know about that?” Sandra looked at her in amazement.

  “You keep saying that when we’re with Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “Oh, gosh. Is there anything you don’t hear?” Sandra shook her head.

  I got the feeling this discussion could go on for days if I didn’t clear a few things up. “Girls, the truth is, we just can’t move to the sea overnight. If we decide we want to do this, making it happen is going to take a lot of time. Not to mention the fact that I’d need a job there, and so would Christoph and Sandra. Right now, there’s really nothing else for you two to do but go play and stop obsessing about the sea.”

  At first, the girls looked shocked by my words, and then they started to scream. I gently pushed Paula from the room, both girls venting their frustration by saying things like, “Adults are mean!” and “I’m gonna find new parents!” I closed the door emphatically.

  Sandra sighed. “They’re right, you know. Adults make things so complicated. We know what we want, but we always shoot ourselves in the foot.”

  I gazed into my cup of tea and thought about Mathis, who had spent his life thinking of others and squelching his own desire for freedom. I thought about the regular bouts of wanderlust that overcame me, which I tried so hard to ignore. I thought about all the people who tried to change their lives, only to be met by condescending smiles and slammed doors. Why were we playing this game?

  “It’s the price humanity has paid for settling down,” I decided. “If we were still nomads, we wouldn’t be having these discussions. We would go wherever we wanted. You know what we should be blaming? Evolution.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little far-fetched?”

  No. I didn’t think it was at all.

  The upcoming panel discussion was hard on my stomach. I fully expected to embarrass myself in front of a large group of experts in just two weeks. I couldn’t get out of it. Back when I was a student at the university, I excelled at writing papers with clearly laid-out themes—themes that fell on the ground in frayed pieces whenever I attempted to convey them in an oral presentation. I could write meaningfully. But if I had to read that same paper out loud, I failed miserably.

  I chewed on my pencil and wondered if my efforts were a waste of time. Even if I could come up with something brilliant, I had no idea what the other presenters were planning to say.

  My phone rang, saving me from having to make a decision.

  “Can you take Anneke today?” Sandra sounded very excited.

  “Of course. What’s going on? You’re all out of breath.”

  “Oh, Nele, you won’t believe it! I can hardly believe it myself. It’s crazy!” I wasn’t used to hearing Sandra sound so emotional. The last time she’d sounded this excited was when she got pregnant.

  “Spit it out!” I told her.

  “My book is being published!”

  I was stunned. I’d known for a few weeks that Sandra was working on a children’s book, but I had no idea that it was even finished. The idea came to her in Rügen. Sandra was a fantastic artist and made the first, early sketches for the book while on vacation. The protagonist was a little seal named Heinrich who wound up in Rügen by chance and had all kinds of adventures there. Sandra explained that she’d finished a draft by the time she got home, then submitted it to a publisher.

  “Sandra, that’s awesome! We’ve got to celebrate!” I hoped she would have all the success in the world. For a long time, she’d been looking for a job that would give her enough free time to take care of Anneke and still earn her own money. Extreme test anxiety had kept her from graduating with a degree, and that pretty much took her out of the running for a permanent position in a company. Marco and I had offered to bring her onto our staff, but Sandra wanted to prove that she could do this for herself. She’d tried a few jobs over the years, but nothing had been the right fit. Until now. She hadn’t even told Christoph. He’d seen that she’d drawn some beautiful pictures. But she hadn’t wanted to say anything about the book to him until she actually sold it. And now, she had pulled it off.

  “You’re going to publish a real book!” I said.

  “Not just one, Nele! They’re giving me a contract for a whole series. I can’t believe it!”

  “You’re kidding, right? Like the Conni series?”

  “Exactly. They want me to come in this afternoon and sign the contract. Today, Nele! My friend Michael is an editor, and he thinks it’s a really good offer.”

  “When do you have to be there?”

  “Four o’clock. I’m taking the train. I’m way too nervous to drive.”

  “If you and Christoph want to celebrate by yourselves, Anneke can stay with
us tonight.”

  “No. We’ll come over later to celebrate with you and the girls, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I’ll get the champagne.”

  “Okay, I’d better go get ready. See you later, Nele, and thank you so much!”

  I hung up my phone feeling happy. What a bright spot in our dark existence!

  I jumped up to go tell Marco.

  “You’re not going to believe what happened to Sandra today,” I said as I barged into his office.

  “Something good, judging by your face.”

  “Not just good. Fantastic! Sandra is going to publish a children’s book!”

  “But . . . something that big doesn’t happen just like that.”

  “Well, it did. She’s signing the contract today.”

  Marco fell back against his chair. “Well, how about that!” He looked floored.

  “She’s breaking the good news to Christoph tonight. He didn’t even know she was trying to write a book.”

  “He’s going to freak out.”

  “If you want, bring your family over tonight. We’re going to celebrate.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He was already dialing Ines. As I walked back to my office, my heart soared. Suddenly, everything looked much brighter. It was still possible for a person to change her life. Maybe my turn would come next.

  Why did that idea make me start thinking about Mathis again?

  Sandra and Christoph showed up around eight. Marco, Ines, and their little boy, Tristan, were already there. As expected, Christoph was dumbfounded by the news, and he quickly became the proudest husband on earth. He kissed Sandra’s forehead over and over and put away several glasses of champagne. The children, too, were caught up in the mood and were soon bouncing off the walls. Around ten, things got even better when Marco rose from the sofa and pulled his wife up beside him. Solemnly he raised his glass and looked around the room.

  “Please don’t think I’m trying to steal Sandra’s thunder.” He raised his glass to her. “But since we’re already celebrating, I want everyone to share in our joy.” He took a deep breath. “Ines is pregnant again!”

  The room erupted in excitement, and I was thankful that I’d given in to an impulse to buy sparkling cider in addition to champagne. By midnight, all the adults but Ines were slurring our words. With considerable effort, Ines managed to get her sleeping child and drunken husband into the car. Though Christoph was reeling, he and Sandra succeeded in walking the twenty yards to their front door. Paula and Anneke slept in my daughter’s room, and I knew I’d pay a price early the next morning. School started at eight. If I’d had a considerate life partner, I would have gladly let him take on this obligation for me. I sighed and lay down in my bed, suddenly feeling very alone. As I closed my eyes, the room around me seemed to rock. I imagined myself on the boat with Mathis, somewhere on the North Sea coast. But my imagination differed from my current state in one crucial detail.

  In my fantasy, I wasn’t seasick.

  The image reflected in the mirror was the exact opposite of reality. A young woman with a stylish updo, wearing a sleek, navy-blue jacket and pants, gazed back out at me. I looked like the cover of a fashion magazine for young professionals. All that was missing was a pair of smart metal-rimmed glasses. I didn’t even look like myself. I stuck out my tongue, and my reflection did, too. Nope, that was me. I panicked. How could I even go outside looking like this? Why had I let Ines talk me into buying this awful suit? We’d been shopping for Tristan’s birthday gifts when she’d spied this monstrosity in the store window. “That’s your suit, Nele,” she insisted. It was paid for even before I had a chance to resist.

  I can’t wear this, I thought. But just as I started to dig in my closet, the doorbell rang. That would be Marco. Well, he’d just have to wait.

  “You look fantastic, Nele,” he said as I opened the door. He held me at arm’s length. “Perfect.”

  “Your wife chose this,” I said, my voice weak. I couldn’t tell whether he was being sincere with his praise.

  “I’m not surprised,” he told me. “She’s got excellent taste. That’s why she married me.”

  “Ha-ha,” I said. “Anyway, I’m changing into something less conspicuous.”

  “Oh, no.” Marco stepped in front of my closet door. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. You look just right. Now let’s go. We’re already late.”

  He pushed me toward the door in a way that showed he meant business. I gave up.

  When we walked in, I saw that every last seat was filled. This was my last chance to escape.

  “I can’t do this, Marco. I’m going to be sick.”

  “You’re the perfect person to talk about this stuff, Nele. You know more about this than anyone else on the panel. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces. This is going to be a lot of fun!”

  “Yeah. Fun for all the people who’ll be laughing at me.”

  “The audience is going to be impressed, not amused. Now, go get ’em! They’re waiting for you. The others are already sitting down.”

  I looked over at the stage. Three dignified-looking men had taken their places and were flipping through their cheat sheets. There were two empty places left. One was marked “Dr. Horst Kleinert” and the other “Nele Martens.” There was no going back now.

  When I stepped onto the stage, I noticed surprised looks in the audience. It appeared that a sharply dressed young woman was not what they had anticipated. The people didn’t look like they expected much from me. Well, I’d show them! I searched for Marco’s face and found him right in front. Good. If I fainted, he could come over to help me. He gave me a thumbs-up and winked. I tried to smile back, but I probably just looked like I was in pain. The seat next to me remained empty. The moderator stood up, and the hall fell silent.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today’s event. I want to thank our panelists here on the stage, all of whom have come ready to discuss the theme, sustainable urban redevelopment, and—hopefully—to increase our understanding of this controversial and fascinating subject. Unfortunately, we just learned that one of our experts, Dr. Horst Kleinert, has suddenly fallen ill. Thankfully, one of his colleagues has graciously offered to take his place and is on his way here now. Since he’ll be a little late, I suggest we . . . Oh, wonderful! I see that our final guest has just entered the hall. Please join me in welcoming . . .”

  All heads, including mine, turned toward the door. I froze. This could not be happening. I longed for a hole to open in the stage floor and swallow me up. Mathis! Mathis is going to be the fifth member of the discussion panel. I pushed down the hysterical laughter rising up within me. I looked at Marco, who appeared to have noticed my rising panic but had no idea how to interpret it. He made a vague hand movement that probably meant something like, Relax! Stay loose! Very funny. How was I supposed to relax on the worst day of my life? Step by step, impending disaster in the form of Mathis Hagena grew closer. He hadn’t yet recognized me.

  “Please be seated, Dr. Hagena,” said the moderator.

  Dr. Hagena! One more detail of his life that he’d left at home while on vacation. He stepped onto the stage, pulled back his chair, and stuck out a hand to shake mine. What a gentleman, that doctor, I mockingly thought! I briefly considered ignoring his hand, then all of a sudden realized I didn’t want to. Watch out, here I come! Smiling with confidence, I turned and looked him directly in the eyes. His expression, which started out as calm, became one of shock. He turned white as chalk, nodded at me, and then dropped into his chair. I looked over to Marco, who still had no idea what was going on. Everything about him looked confused.

  “Let’s begin by introducing our panelists. Ladies first.” The moderator praised me for courageously agreeing to match wits with the experienced men on the panel, then move
d on to introduce the others. At last, he arrived at Mathis.

  “Many of you know Dr. Mathis Hagena from other panel events or from his various publications. Together with his colleague, he leads the renowned architectural firm Hagena & Kleinert, which has been committed to the ecological reconstruction of entire districts over the past few years.”

  He was that Hagena? His name was legendary in our industry, but I’d made no connection between Dr. Hagena and my Mathis, the sailor. The look on Marco’s face told me that the name Mathis Hagena, emphasis on the word Mathis, rang a bell. He looked worriedly from Mathis to me, then back again. I could tell that he didn’t like what he saw at all. I risked a glance in Mathis’s direction. He stared ahead into the audience. Still deathly pale, he fumbled around with his pen. Pearls of sweat glistened on his forehead. I wondered whether it might be a good idea to call a doctor now. He looked like he was going to need one. When he turned toward me, he was in such despair, I wanted to lower his head to my maternal bosom and comfort him.

  “Each of our experts will begin with a brief introductory statement. Since I didn’t come up with anything better, I thought we’d proceed alphabetically. Ha-ha! Mr. Albrecht, if you would get things started for us . . .”

  Alphabetical order. That meant I’d be . . . fourth, right after Mathis. This gave me a chance to hear the others speak and try to collect my thoughts. I tried to pretend that I was sitting next to a stranger. This was a business event, not a soap opera. I succeeded with great difficulty in following the others’ introductory remarks and managed to deliver my own reasonably coherent statement. When I was finished, Marco—who had likely feared the worst—fell back against his chair in relief. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  The panel turned into a lively and contentious discussion. From the start, my learned colleagues treated me with condescension, acknowledging my statements with a patronizing smile. At first. When I stood my ground, firmly and skillfully defending my position, they began to show me respect and treat me like an equal. Only Mathis stayed quiet. I figured he was probably still in shock. Well, it served him right!