Trying to get back on her good side, I read her a long story every night, often falling asleep next to her before waking up with a stiff neck in the middle of the night and dragging myself, half-asleep, back to my own bed.
To my chagrin, I dreamt often of my days at the North Sea. I pictured myself hand in hand with Mathis, strolling down our beloved shoreline, and relived erotic adventures destined to be abruptly terminated by the persistent ringing of my alarm clock. When I ran into Mathis at work, which happened more and more frequently now that Marco was out of the office, I felt more drawn to him than ever. Just seeing him gave me heart palpitations, and it was hard for me to concentrate on our work, but Mathis didn’t seem to notice. He focused on the work at hand and left the minute our meetings were over, leaving me feeling even more depressed than before.
When Marco came back to the office again after five weeks, I hugged him with gratitude. I’d never been so happy to see him. Ines was now significantly better, and her attacks of dizziness had stopped. It took about a week for Marco to be convinced that his wife’s condition was stable and that he didn’t need to remain within five steps of her. Ines told me that he’d even followed her into the bathroom, and she said that she’d endured his overprotectiveness for way too long.
This was a welcome development for me—finally, I could go home before dark! Looking around in astonishment, I saw that spring had blazed its trail through the ice and snow. Snowdrops and crocuses were popping up everywhere, happy birds were chirping, and tender buds were appearing on bushes and trees. Inspired, I decided to go out for some fresh air with Paula. Walking wasn’t one of her favorite pastimes, but she strapped on her inline skates and sped along the nature paths beside me. As I drew the fresh spring air deep into my lungs, I wondered if this was the silver lining to my weeks of stress. Could I have appreciated this walk so fully without them?
“Momma, look at the red beetles.” Paula pointed under a bench that stood at a fork in the road. Small and large red bugs swarmed frantically. I stepped closer to get a look but was stopped short by my daughter’s horrified scream. “Watch out, Momma! You stepped on a beetle!” Paula pulled on my sleeve and stooped over the flattened bug. “You always make the animals dead!”
I laughed without thinking at her indignation, remembering a story from Paula’s toddlerhood. We’d started out on a stroll, just as we’d done today, but hadn’t gone far, as Paula was determined to run back and forth between two light posts. Even more fascinating to her, though, were the leaves, earthworms, and small rocks that she gathered into a pile or—in the case of particularly favored specimens—stuffed into a jacket pocket. I was watching Paula work when I came across a snail laboriously dragging its little house inch by inch. “Look, Paula,” I called. “Look at the snail!” Curious, Paula toddled over, studied the snail, and then lifted her small foot and crushed it, turning back to her leaves without even a second glance.
“It’s not funny, Momma!” she cried now, “Animals want to live, too!”
“You’re right; I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sorry.”
With a last look of regret at the smashed red bug, Paula skated away at a brisk pace. I was amazed at how skillfully she moved on those skates, which she’d had on her feet fewer than five times. I let her choose the route and pace and Paula was in no hurry to go home. When dusk came, I pointed her back toward our apartment.
“It was a beautiful day, Momma,” she said as we hungrily devoured our dinner. Her cheeks, reddened by the fresh air, glowed in the candlelight. How I loved this girl!
Marco had been out of the loop during his wife’s illness, and it showed. Once he returned to the office, however, our work with Christoph and Mathis started to gain momentum again. We all contributed something important to the project, but over the weeks one thing had become increasingly clear: Mathis—with his two decades of professional experience, his long list of contacts, his expertise, and his business acumen—was its driving force. So it hit us all the harder when he told us one day in March that he had to leave the city. He had to take care of other business in Rügen, he said, and we’d have to slog along without him as best we could.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I have to be there in person.”
We looked at each other helplessly. We couldn’t possibly suspend work for two weeks, and we couldn’t continue it without Mathis. What could we do now? For quite some time, we sat lost in thought.
“How many apartment suites does your vacation house in Rügen have?” Marco asked.
“Eight.”
“Who cares about a vacation house?” Christoph grumbled. “How about focusing on the problem in front of us?”
“I am!” Marco grinned. It took a moment for me to get what he was suggesting.
“You don’t mean that—”
“Au contraire, that’s exactly what I mean, Nele. If Mathis can’t stay with us, we’ll go to him. It makes perfect sense. Am I right?”
“Marco, that’s brilliant!” said Christoph. “Why didn’t I think of it? What do you think, Mathis? Are you up for us coming to Rügen for a few days?”
“I’ll make the arrangements right now,” said Mathis, picking up his cell phone. “How many apartments do we need?”
“How big are they?”
“Different sizes. Each person can have a little one. Or, if you bring your families, there are bigger possibilities.”
“Wow! If that’s an option, I’m definitely bringing Ines and Tristan.” Marco beamed.
“We can do that. And you two?” asked Mathis, turning to Christoph and me.
“Well . . .” Christoph thought for a moment. “Sandra will be dying to go, she loves Rügen so much. She could get new inspirations for her books. But Anneke has school.”
“No,” I said. “Easter holidays start in a week.”
“Nele, you’re the best! Easter holidays. Perfect!” He gave my cheek a quick kiss as if I were somehow to thank for the timing of the two-week vacation. “Sandra will be thrilled!”
“And you, Nele? That means you can go, too.”
Mathis had asked the question without any sign of emotion, but all three were looking at me with great intensity. Being with Mathis in a vacation house, on a beautiful island—with him completely beyond my reach. I’d never get through it. And—oh God!—what if he took his family or, even worse, the blond? I couldn’t put myself through that. Of course, there was also our work to consider, not to mention how happy the trip would make Paula . . .
“All right, we’ll tag along, too,” I blurted out to my own surprise. Marco exhaled in relief, having probably expected a long, heated discussion. He gave me a grateful look.
“Let me see what I can do.” Mathis left the room to make some calls.
Christoph patted my hand. “Thank you, Nele; I know this isn’t easy for you.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun,” I said. Exactly who’d be having the fun remained to be seen.
“We’re going back to Rügen? Yes!” Paula couldn’t believe it. “And Momma, are you coming, too?”
“Yes, this time I’m coming.”
Just as our meeting ended, Sandra brought the children to the conference room. She had been shopping in the city, and Paula had insisted on coming to the office to say hello to Momma.
“Yippee!” Paula wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed hard. “Can we picnic on the beach again?”
“Only if it’s not too cold.”
“Oh, it’s warm in Rügen. I know from the last time. Are we going to the same house?”
“No. This time we’re going to Mathis’s house.”
“But the other one was beautiful!”
“My house is beautiful, too,” Mathis told her. “Come on, I’ll show you. We’ll look at it together on the Internet.”
“Are you really okay with this, Nele?” asked Sa
ndra as Mathis took Paula and Anneke into the next office.
“You know what they say: ‘fly with the crows, get shot with the crows,’” I said. “I know what I’m getting into.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks, but I—” Just then the kids tore through the door, their eyes shining with excitement.
“Momma, you were teasing. We’re going back to the house with straw on the roof!”
We all looked at them in disbelief.
“No, Paula,” said Christoph, “Mathis just showed you—”
“Exactly!” Mathis was grinning as he came through the door. “Your girls have just informed me that they stayed at my house last summer.”
“This I’ve got to see!” Christoph shot out of his chair and ran to the other room with the rest of us on his heels. A coincidence like this seemed impossible.
But in fact, it was not. After studying the photo on the Internet, Sandra and Christoph shook their heads in disbelief and confirmed that they had indeed stayed at the home of Dr. Mathis Hagena the previous summer.
In a pensive mood, I returned to the conference room and dropped heavily into a chair. While I had been with Mathis on the North Sea, my daughter had been on holiday at his vacation home. It was crazy. I heard laughter coming from the next room. At least other people could see the humor in this coincidence.
My God, it was beautiful! Mathis’s place really was a dream. The main building was an old farmhouse, painted white with blue trim and covered by a thatched roof—and divided into eight individual apartments. And oh, what apartments they were! The rooms featured light pinewood, terracotta tiles, and exposed ceiling beams, and the dominant color of the decor—including upholstery, tablecloths, and bedding—was, of course, blue. It seemed a waste to use this place only as a vacation home. I’d have been happy to live there full-time myself. Outside, a huge yard was stocked with toys for the children, and nearby, four windmills turned slowly in the wind. Nice, I thought. Even the electricity’s clean here. What more could anyone want?
The weather was kind to us. With the spring sun shining from a bright-blue sky, we decided to take a ten-minute walk to the north beach, which smelled of the wonderful nearby pine forest.
The children stomped around in rubber boots and played hopscotch on the boulders that were scattered by the hundreds along the beach. When little Tristan had trouble climbing, the girls helped him, proud to be so much bigger than he was.
“Isn’t it wonderful here?” Sandra sighed and linked her arms with Ines’s and mine.
“Yes. It’s no wonder your vision of Heinrich came to you here,” said Ines. “I would have picked this place, too, if I were him. Have you come up with a couple new adventures for your little seal?”
“A couple? Try dozens!”
We continued to walk and laugh while the men went on ahead, deep in conversation. Anyone who observed us would assume that we were just three happy families enjoying the spring sunshine, I realized. If only it were true. In fact, there were only two happy families—plus Mathis and Nele and Paula. I let out a deep sigh. As if she’d read my thoughts, Sandra squeezed my hand and gave me an encouraging look. I pressed her hand right back, but I didn’t say a word.
As the evening cooled, we made ourselves comfortable over a delicious meal the men had cooked, then followed it with a glass of red wine by the crackling fireplace. The children were red-cheeked and exhausted, but of course, they refused to go to bed.
“We’re not going to go to sleep the whole time we’re here,” they’d announced during the walk, “because it’s really cool here and sleeping is boring.” Soon all three were stretched out on the fluffy rug, fast asleep. We decided to let them all sleep together in one room, and Christoph and Marco stood up right away to carry their kids to bed. I was about to do the same, but Mathis was faster. Without a word, he picked up Paula and carried her behind her playmates. Ines and Sandra threw me meaningful looks, but I felt like screaming.
We took advantage of the children’s entire two-week Easter vacation, in order to focus on our work. We discussed our project day in and day out, creating the funding proposal and thinking through how the project could be implemented in the real world. Even Ines joined in the discussion while the children occupied themselves outside in the huge yard. Mathis stepped out occasionally to take care of his other projects in Rügen, and Sandra usually sat on her own, working on her new Heinrich stories. In the evenings, she presented her new sketches to us, and we enjoyed experiencing the island through Heinrich’s illustrated adventures.
“We should take more retreats like this,” Christoph said one morning at breakfast. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked so effectively and laughed so much—and slept so well.”
“Marco’s idea was a brilliant one,” Mathis agreed. For some reason, everyone looked at me.
“It’s nice,” I said, determined not to gush. I walked away on the pretext of getting myself a yogurt from the fridge, but I’m sure everyone could see that I wanted to escape Mathis’s steady, searching gaze.
“Who wants to take a beach walk today?” he asked without taking his eyes off me when I returned from the kitchen.
“Good idea. Which beach are we going to this time?” Christoph asked. This earned him a hefty kick from his wife. “Ow, what’s gotten into you?”
He got another kick from Ines, who was sitting to his left.
“Hey! What—”
“Christoph, we’re going to work today and let Mathis and Nele go to the beach. Isn’t that a good idea?” Marco struggled to keep a straight face.
Christoph slapped his forehead with his palm.
“Got it?” asked Sandra.
“If Momma and Mathis go to the beach, I’m going with them. And Anneke, too,” said Paula.
“No, Paula, the beach Mathis and Nele are going to isn’t very pretty. No shells, no stones. I’ll take you to a different beach and we’ll play ball,” said Ines.
“Why would Nele and Mathis go to a beach that isn’t beautiful? They’ll have more fun if they come with us,” said Anneke.
“Because, uh . . . Well, they probably want to—”
“Be alone,” Paula finished for her.
“Exactly. Because they’re in love.” Anneke looked around importantly. “And when you’re in love, you want to be alone with—”
“Could you both please brush your teeth?” Christoph pointed to the door.
“But—”
“No buts!”
When the girls realized that resistance was futile, they walked away sulking.
“If you ask me—” Sandra began, fixing her gaze at me, but I’d had enough for one day.
“May I answer Mathis’s question? I’ve got a pretty clear picture of what the rest of you want.”
“I’m sorry, Nele. Of course.” Looking sheepish, Ines picked up her son and went outside. The other three followed her, closing the door behind them. Mathis still hadn’t said a word. Was he angry?
“Shall we walk on the beach today?” He asked in the same tone as before, as if it was the first time he’d proposed it.
“Why?”
“Please say yes.”
“If you’re asking me, then yes.”
“Then we should leave right away.” He stood, reached his hand out to me, and pulled me to my feet, just as he had at the foreshore on the North Sea. The look in his eyes said that he remembered that moment, too.
“It is so beautiful here.” I sighed and sat down on the sand, which had been warmed by the spring sun. Without exchanging another word, we had walked along the road to the beach. I kept waiting for Mathis to say something, assuming he had some reason for inviting me on this walk. But he didn’t say a word. At a certain point, we stopped at a steep staircase, invisible from the main path, and descended to the beach. There below the cliff we
were warmed by the sun and sheltered from the wind. Although the beach was not small and we could see a great distance, we saw no one else and I decided it was probably a secret area known only to locals. Mathis dropped down next to me and with a small stick began to draw a sun in the sand.
“It is wonderful here,” he said. “But you’re not happy, Nele.”
“I—”
“You know, I’ve realized something: When Marco came up with the idea for us all to come to Rügen, I should have said no. I stayed up all night wrestling with myself about it after we decided, but there was no way to go back once the decision was made. If we had been forced to abandon the project, all our work would have had to be thrown out. When it comes to business, feelings have to be set aside. So I moved forward, hoping all this wouldn’t be so hard—but I was wrong. It gets harder every day.” Mathis painted a few clouds around his sun and added some rain.
“You don’t need to justify all this, Mathis. I’m old enough to make my own decisions, and I’ll cope somehow—”
“I wasn’t talking about you, Nele. I was talking about me. I admired your decision to come despite everything, and I know you didn’t make it lightly. But that’s not my point. I’m telling you what this is like for me. It was hard enough at home for me to see you infrequently. But to be with you all day long, every day, is more than I can take. I love you—much more than I’ve wanted to admit over these past few months. I tried to fight it, Nele, but it’s no use. I love you.”
My heart beat faster and I felt like I was dreaming. He loves me! Mathis really loves me! He came with me to this wonderful place in order to make a declaration of love. Now he would take me in his strong arms, kiss me, put a ring on my finger . . . but when I looked, I saw something that worried me. Next, he was going to tell me again why it couldn’t work out. He was going to say that we can’t see each other anymore, that he needs his freedom, that he doesn’t want to take on any new responsibilities . . . that I would only be in the way.
“No,” I whispered. “Please don’t say it, Mathis.” I jumped up in a panic, my mind suddenly clear. I couldn’t do this anymore. For months, I had tortured myself in the name of this stupid project. I’d gone into meetings with heart palpitations and had been useless for days afterward. I’d suffered when seeing him at parties. I’d come to Rügen, and Paula and I had stayed in his house like an idyllic pseudofamily. And after all this, he was going to reject me again and subject me to explanations I just didn’t understand.
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