I gave him Evelyn’s address, and we arranged for him to take the kids back to my house. Mathis didn’t want to make Paula and Anneke worry by bringing them to the hospital. I gave him my key and called Evelyn back to tell her what was happening.
“Where’s Tristan?” I asked Sandra.
“Christoph took him home.”
“Maybe they could go to my apartment, too,” I suggested. “Then the kids will be together, and everyone will be easier to reach if . . . if there’s any news.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Mathis patted Marco on the shoulder and then he was gone. I could have kissed him. Sandra looked grateful, too.
“I’ll get some coffee,” she said and disappeared. I stayed alone with Marco, who continued to sit on the bench and stare straight ahead. I felt very helpless. What’s the right thing to say in this kind of situation? I wondered. Or should I just keep my mouth shut? I sat next to Marco and put a hand on his arm.
“Is she going to be okay, Nele?” Marco didn’t look at me.
“She’s going to be fine.” I sounded more confident than I felt.
“I shouldn’t have left her alone. I knew she wasn’t feeling well.”
“She wasn’t alone, Marco. Sandra and I were with her, and you can’t exactly stay at home all day—”
“Can’t I?” Marco shouted so loudly, I flinched. “My wife is sick—meanwhile, I’m running all over the place! I . . .”
Just as suddenly as he’d blown up, Marco fell silent and slumped over again on the bench. An elderly couple walking down the hall stared at him and shook their heads. “A bit more quiet, please. This is a hospital!”
“Idiots!” I whispered after them, and they shook their heads even harder.
“Where is everybody? What the hell are they doing to her, and why can’t I be in there?” Marco dragged his fingers through his hair and tears ran down his cheeks. I put my arm around his shoulders. I didn’t say anything. What could I say?
Finally, Sandra came back with three plastic cups of coffee in her hands. I accepted one gratefully and Sandra handed another to Marco. “Drink it. It’ll do you good.” Indifferently, Marco took a sip.
“Mr. Gerlach?”
A pretty young woman in a green coat approached us. A cold shiver shot through me. Why did she look so serious?
Marco looked at her, his face pale and wan. He handed Sandra his coffee and stood slowly. Sandra and I stood, too. Her whole body was shaking.
“I’m your wife’s doctor. Dr. Krüger.” She thrust out her hand for Marco to shake. “How’s Ines?” Marco’s voice quivered.
“We can’t say for sure, but her head injury doesn’t appear to be serious. She still isn’t conscious—”
“Can I see her?”
“Of course. She’s in the ICU. Please don’t get scared. It looks a lot worse than it really is.”
How’s the baby? Why doesn’t she say anything about it? I wondered, just as Marco asked the same thing.
“The baby’s fine.”
Sandra let out a long breath. Marco nodded weakly.
Sandra and I were turned away at the door of the intensive care unit. “Sorry,” said the doctor there. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait outside.”
“Go home. I’ll call you when we know something,” Marco told us. He disappeared behind the heavy door.
“Now what do we do?” Sandra asked.
“I don’t know. I hate to leave Marco here all alone. I mean, if . . .”
“On the other hand, he told us to go home. Let’s do what he says. There’s nothing we can do here, anyway.”
I hesitated, then nodded. “You’re right. Marco will call when he needs us.”
By that time of night, the traffic was significantly lighter, and for once, I seemed to hit nothing but green lights all the way home. As I got out of the car, I looked up, and at just that moment, I saw a meteor shoot across the sky.
“Good luck, Ines,” I said.
A touching scene awaited me in the living room. Mathis sat on the sofa, his head tilted to the side, obviously asleep. Pippi Goes on Board lay open in his lap. Three dozing children enveloped in fluffy duvets snuggled up against him, including Tristan, who was sucking his thumb. I grabbed my camera to capture the image, and the flash startled Mathis from his sleep. He blinked, stretched, and said, “Hello, Nele.” Gently, he began to disentangle himself. “How’s Ines?”
“We don’t know yet. No severe head injuries, but she’s still unconscious.”
“And the baby?”
“The baby’s okay.”
“Thank God!”
“Where’s Christoph?”
“Here!” I heard from the kitchen. “I was just making some coffee. Where’s my wife? With Marco?”
“No, Marco sent us both home. She’s right behind me.” A minute later, Sandra tapped at the door and then fell into Christoph’s arms. “I’m wiped out. Let’s go home. It’s all so awful. I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep all night, though it doesn’t look like the kids will have that problem.” She smiled down at our brood. “Christoph, please take Anneke, and we’ll go.” Christoph did as Sandra said, and a few moments later, the three were gone.
“Coffee?” Mathis pointed to the full pot Christoph had carried into the room. I shook my head.
“No, I’ll put the kids to bed, and then I’ll try to sleep, too.” Mathis had Paula in his arms and was already carrying her into her bedroom. I lifted Tristan, who briefly opened his eyes and smiled at me before drifting back to sleep. Tears came to my eyes. I laid him carefully on the mattress in Paula’s bedroom and covered him with a warm blanket. “Sleep well, sweetheart,” I said softly and kissed his warm cheek. “Your mom’s going to be just fine.” Then I gave Paula a kiss, too.
“I’m going to go.” Mathis headed for the door. As he was about to open it, panic seized me. I was suddenly afraid to wake up the next morning to uncertainty, not knowing what to say to Ines’s child.
“Can you stay with me, Mathis? I really don’t want to be alone right now.”
“No problem. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
I thought again about how uncomplicated Mathis could be, at least in certain ways. But the sofa was out of the question—it was far too uncomfortable.
“Do you want to sleep in my bed?”
“I don’t know, Nele.”
“I don’t mean it like that. I just . . .”
Without a word, Mathis turned and headed to my bedroom. He took off his jeans and socks and lay down. I grabbed a second comforter and lay down next to him. We lay next to each other silently for a while, and then he stretched out his arm. I cuddled up close to him and fell asleep in an instant.
A child cried out in my dreams, but I didn’t identify the source of the sound. The clamor grew louder and louder as I searched. Then a phone rang, and it became louder and louder . . .
“Momma, telephone. It’s Marco. Wake up!”
“What?” I opened my eyes a crack. Paula stood next to the bed, phone in her hand. Marco! I grabbed the phone from her.
“Marco? How is Ines doing?” I croaked.
“Nele, I . . .” Oh my God, was Marco crying? Horrified, I sat up in bed.
“She hasn’t woken up, Nele. She’s not responding. What am I going to do?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. She was still alive. “Should we come now, Marco? Do you need anything?”
“Maybe if you brought Tristan to her that might help?”
Tristan! Where was he anyway?
“We’ll be there in half an hour. I—” But Marco had already hung up. I jumped out of bed and ran to Paula’s room. Tristan had his little head on Mathis’s shoulder and was sucking his thumb and sobbing. Mathis was wiping away his tears.
“He was calling for his momma,” Mathis said softly. “It probably scared him to wake up in a
strange place, but I think he’ll be okay. What did Marco say?”
“Ines hasn’t woken up yet. He wants us to bring Tristan. He thinks it might help. Hey, Tristan, say, you want to go see Momma? Your daddy’s already there.”
Tristan nodded and his eyes sparkled. “Momma go home.”
I gulped. Mathis came to my rescue.
“Momma’s not home, Tristan. Momma slept somewhere else. We’re going to go see her, but Momma’s still sleeping. Should we try to wake her up?”
Again, Tristan nodded eagerly and lifted his little finger in the air. “Sissan wake up Momma.” He climbed out of Mathis’s lap, grabbed his pants, and tried to dress himself. I helped a little so we could get out of the house faster. Mathis drove, and I tried to hold back my tears. I couldn’t let myself cry in front of the kids. I wondered what would happen when Ines didn’t respond to her baby boy. Mathis sensed my fear and gave me a comforting pat on the leg. I gave him a grateful smile.
“Where did Ines sleep?” asked Paula. “Where are we going now, and why do you look so sad, Momma?”
“Ines is in the hospital, Paula. She had a little accident. But she’s going to be okay.” I was glad Tristan couldn’t grasp what I was saying.
“How’d she have an accident? Did she walk in front of a car?”
“No, she got dizzy at home. But Sandra and I were there, and we helped her right away.” I shuddered at the memory of Ines lying ghostly pale on the bathroom floor.
“So that’s why you forgot to pick us up.”
“Exactly. I’m sorry Paula, but—”
“It’s okay. It was a lot more fun with Mathis anyway.”
We found Sandra sitting on the bench outside the ICU, sipping a cup of coffee. She looked relieved to see us and jumped up immediately.
“They won’t let me in. Marco doesn’t even know I’m here, but I couldn’t stay at home. Have you heard anything?”
“Marco called. Ines still hasn’t woken up.”
“Crap.”
“Momma sleep,” said Tristan.
Sandra looked at him. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring him here?”
“Marco wanted us to bring him. He thinks Ines might respond to him.”
“Is Anneke coming, too? It’s really boring here,” Paula said.
“Yes, Christoph and Anneke are still having breakfast, then they’ll come, too,” Sandra told her.
“I want breakfast. I’m hungry.”
“Let’s go to the cafeteria,” Mathis said. “Have you ever been in a cafeteria?”
“I don’t think so.”
Christoph and Anneke came around the corner, and after we’d told them all we knew, Christoph and Mathis headed off with the girls in the direction of the cafeteria.
“So how are we going to get in there?” Sandra cast a critical eye over the heavy door that separated us from Marco and Ines.
I looked around and my eyes fell on a button. I pushed it. A minute later, the door opened, and a young nurse—or perhaps doctor—smiled at us. “Can I help you?”
“We’re bringing Mr. and Mrs. Gerlach’s son to Ines Gerlach, because—”
“That’s right. We discussed it last night.” She smiled at Tristan and said, “So you’re here to visit your momma. Well, then, come with me.” But Tristan began to kick and scream. He wasn’t about to go anywhere with this strange woman, no matter how much she smiled. Eventually, someone thought to send for Marco. When he appeared, he looked awful, totally exhausted, with dark rings under his eyes. But this didn’t seem to bother Tristan. He threw himself jubilantly into his father’s arms.
“Thank you,” Marco said in a weak voice, and he disappeared behind the door with his son.
“Don’t you have to work today, Momma?” Paula sat at our corner table in the cafeteria, smacking her lips, her mouth full of chocolate croissant.
“Work?” Startled, I looked around. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday,” Mathis said.
“Wednesday,” I repeated stupidly and took a sip of tea.
“I’ve already taken the day off,” said Mathis.
“Me, too,” said Christoph. “You haven’t?”
“Nope. Crap. I hope I haven’t missed anything important. And I’m sure Marco hasn’t thought to call in. Vera’s probably freaking out.” I ran out to call her. If it wasn’t Christmas vacation, I would have forgotten to take Paula to school, too.
“Vera, it’s Nele. What’s up today?”
“Apparently nothing, since I haven’t heard from either of you. I was just about to file a missing persons report.”
“We’re wondering whether we have any appointments today. Could you check?”
“Marco should have called himself.”
“Marco’s at the hospital. He can’t call now.”
“What? What happened? He seemed fine yesterday.”
“Not him, it’s his wife.” If I told Vera any more than that, the whole town would know within the hour.
“Why’s she at the hospital?”
“The reason isn’t important. But I wouldn’t expect him to come in this week. So, what’s happening there?”
“The mayor wants you to call. And the tax office sent a letter. It looks important.”
“It can wait. Anything else?”
“Your mother called.”
“My mother called the office?”
“Yes. She was babbling about someone named Gloria getting decapitated. Is she on some new medication or something?”
“No, heads are just an issue between us at the moment.”
“If you say so. Anyway, that’s about it.”
“All right, I’ll call again later. I’ve got to deal with other things now. Hold down the fort, okay? And don’t try to reach Marco. He can’t talk to anyone for the rest of the week, not even the Pope.”
“Why would the Pope call? Is Marco Catholic?”
I hung up.
“What do we do now?” Anneke asked after she’d had some ice cream. “Is Ines done sleeping? Can we take her home now?”
“She can’t come home now, but I hope she wakes up soon.” Sandra looked around the table, as if one of us might have the solution.
“But sleep’s good for you. You always tell me that,” said Paula. “So let Ines sleep. She’ll probably feel a lot better when she wakes up.”
“You’re right. But sleeping too long isn’t good.”
“Christoph,” said Mathis, “since we’ve taken the day off anyway, why don’t we take the children to the zoo? Who knows, maybe we’ll even enjoy it.” As he spoke, Mathis stacked up all our trays and carried them to a cart.
“Good idea,” said Christoph. “And you’ll stay here and wait for news?”
Sandra and I agreed.
“Let us know right away if anything happens. We won’t be far, if you need us. So, girls, are you coming, or do you want to stay here? If you’re not interested, we’ll have to go to the zoo on our own.”
Anneke and Paula shot up from their chairs and ran to the exit. Mathis and Christoph patted Sandra and me on the shoulders, then they were gone.
Sandra and I spent a long day at the hospital, reading, chatting, reading some more, eating a bit, and staring at the walls. I couldn’t remember anything I read, but at least my book was able to distract me for a few moments. We’d just decided to drive back home, figuring we wouldn’t hear anything new that day, when my cell phone rang.
“Nele? She’s awake! Ines woke up and she said ‘Tristan,’ and she recognized us. Nele! Nele?”
I couldn’t speak—I was so relieved that I could only cry. Sandra looked at me and turned white as a ghost.
“We’re coming up right now, Marco. We’re still in the hospital. We’ll be there immediately!” Sandra looked completely confused as I pulled
her up from her chair.
“Nele, what happened, for God’s sake? Ines hasn’t—?”
“She woke up, Sandra!” I cheered and turned a few high-spirited pirouettes. “She’s awake!”
Sandra burst into tears and started dancing down the hall. Even though they didn’t know what was happening, people around us began to laugh and clap, and one older man yelled “Congratulations!” Sandra and I ran as fast we could to the ICU, where Marco and Tristan were waiting for us. As we flung our arms around Marco’s neck, all the fear he’d been holding in broke loose and he started to weep.
“Sissan home,” whined Tristan, grabbing Marco’s pant leg.
“That’s right, Tristan, we’ll go home now,” I said. “Did you wake up Momma?”
“Momma awake. Sissan tired.”
And so we drove an exhausted “Sissan” and his overjoyed father home. On the way, we met Christoph, Mathis, and the girls at a Chinese restaurant to celebrate over a delicious meal and some bottles of excellent red wine. The children didn’t understand what the fuss was about, but they didn’t ask any questions. They were just happy to be celebrating.
“Thank you, Mathis—for everything,” I said. I was a little giddy from the wine, and a wild desire was rising in me. Could he stay one night? Just one night . . .
“You’re a wonderful woman, Nele,” he said and kissed my forehead. It seemed like he had to force himself to let go of my hand. Just stay! I wanted to scream, but no sound came out of my throat.
Mathis walked out into the night without looking back.
After Ines’s discharge from the hospital, Marco decided to stay home for at least two weeks, though Ines protested loudly. She felt healthy, even though she looked pale and still had dizzy spells. Marco said he wouldn’t go back to the office until these episodes had finally stopped.
This meant no end of work for me because, of course, work had accumulated on both of our desks that couldn’t be put off any longer. As soon as Paula was back in school, I rushed from appointment to appointment, cursing the inventor of cell phones and forgetting to feed Paula and myself. I returned home late in the evening with a guilty conscience to a whiny child who complained about my constant absences and bad mood.
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