Sea Air

by Meeringa, Jule

  I figured Mathis would be so angry after the way dinner ended that he’d drive right home. Instead, he suggested that he take me and my little brat with him on vacation. That man had some damned thick skin. I meant to just give him a quick kiss on the top of his head, but he smelled so good I couldn’t stop. My mouth traveled down to his neck and I felt the familiar tingling rise up within me. When my hands reached the neckline of his shirt, I began to unbutton it. He grabbed my hands, kissed them, and held them tight.

  “Don’t distract me, Nele. I’m asking whether you’ll go on vacation, and where we might go.”

  “Hmm.” I continued to taste him with my tongue. “With you, I’d go anywhere.”

  “In that case, the details can wait.” Mathis laughed, jumped up, and pulled me into the bedroom.

  Finally!

  When I walked into my office in the morning, Marco was practically shaking with agitation. Even his hair looked wilder than usual.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you, but your phone wasn’t on,” Marco complained.

  “Oh.” I fished my phone out of my purse and turned it on. “So, what’s the emergency?”

  “Christoph’s company is being dissolved.”

  “But that’s not going to . . .” Had everyone gone crazy? “Just like that—immediately?” I sat at my desk and motioned for Marco to sit, too. He grabbed the phone and shouted a request for coffee into it. Now Vera was awake, too.

  “It was the shareholders’ decision. As far as they’re concerned, job promotion in our region no longer makes sense.”

  “When did they decide that? If Christoph had told us, maybe we could’ve—”

  “The general meeting of shareholders was last night.”

  “But Christoph must have known this was coming.”

  “Not really. It sounds like they’ll let him wrap up a few things that are already in progress, but then they’re closing down.”

  “Those jerks. What about Christoph?”

  “He’s done.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s fed up. I meant, what company are they going to transfer him to?”

  “They’re not. He’s out of work. He’s only getting a severance package.”

  “They tear the rug out from under him and they don’t even offer an alternative? I can’t believe it!”

  “That’s how it looks.”

  “This is happening all over the country. I’m ready to leave Germany.”

  “That was Christoph’s first thought, too.”

  Vera came in and set the coffee on the desk. “Something the matter?” she asked.

  “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “I get it. I’m not supposed to know about anything, ever.” She swept out the door.

  I loaded my coffee with sugar, needing the boost in energy, and Marco did the same.

  “All right, let’s get serious,” I said. “Where do we go from here? Did Christoph say anything about our project and how it’ll be affected?”

  “Well, you know he’d already delivered a comprehensive presentation to them, pointing out the opportunities—”

  “And?”

  “They listened and seemed interested, and they were especially intrigued by the idea of working with the team we’d formed with Mathis for this project. But they said another company would be taking it from here.”

  “No way.”

  I took a big gulp of coffee and dug around in my drawer for chocolate. I needed food.

  “Does Mathis know yet?”

  “Not unless Christoph called him already, but I doubt he’s done that. He’s a mess. He’s probably off licking his wounds somewhere.”

  “Then let’s get Mathis over here right away. He needs to drop everything else and we need to get started on some new plans.”

  When I called, Mathis’s secretary informed me that he was on the road and currently unreachable, but she promised to pass on an urgent message.

  “I hope this works!” I told Marcus.

  “I guess it’s business as usual until Mathis gets here,” he said. “Call me as soon as you know something.” Marco headed back to his office.

  Business as usual was the furthest thing from my mind. I shoved another piece of chocolate into my mouth and settled down to read my e-mails. One by one, I worked through them, but it took a lot of effort to concentrate. A half hour later, my office door flew open, making me jump. Vera stood in the doorway and looked like she was still pouting.

  “Dr. Hagena is here to see you.”

  Mathis entered, followed immediately by Marco, who’d overheard his arrival. Vera left and closed the door.

  “Wow,” I said. “That was fast.”

  “When my Nele alarm calls, I come running. Ms. Brenner said it was important.”

  “Where were you that you had to turn off your phone?”

  “At the dentist.” Mathis came around the desk and gave me a kiss. “Oh,” he said. “You’re eating chocolate, so this must be serious.” He put a piece of chocolate into his own mouth.

  “Actually, it is,” Marco said. “Have a seat, Mathis.”

  “Where’s Christoph? Shouldn’t we wait for him? I assume this is about our project.”

  “About our project, yes. But it’s more about Christoph. They’re dissolving his company.”

  Mathis looked up from the magazine he’d been absentmindedly thumbing through and dropped it on the desk. He stared at Marco for a few seconds.

  “Could I get some coffee, too?” he asked. “And a little more chocolate, please.” I pushed the remaining half over to him, and he devoured it on the spot. I ordered his coffee.

  “And how do you know they’re shutting down the company?”

  “Christoph called me this morning. The shareholders told him last night.”

  “Is the decision final?”

  “It seems to be.”

  “When will it shut down?”

  “First of January.”

  “And Christoph?”

  “Unemployed.”

  “What a mess.” Mathis picked up his cell phone and suddenly became very interested in studying its screen. I couldn’t believe it. This was the worst possible time for him to just start playing with his phone. Marco looked confused, too. But Mathis wasn’t being insensitive, he was already handling the situation.

  “Good morning to you, Ms. Scholz—Mathis Hagena. I’d like to get in to see the mayor today.” Marcus and I listened in. “Very short notice, yes, but it’s very urgent. When he hears my name, I expect he’ll . . . What? Ha! You’re right about that . . . Five thirty will be perfect, and I’ll have Ms. Martens and Mr. Gerlach with me.” He thanked her and rang off.

  “Do you think he can help us?” I asked.

  “Maybe. First I want him to tell us what happened at the shareholder meeting.”

  “How would he know about that?”

  “He’s one of the stockholders, my dear.”

  “This should be exciting. Five thirty, you said? I’ll have to make arrangements for Paula. Sandra certainly can’t pick her up today.” I called Juliane’s mother, and she even offered to let Paula sleep over. At least that was one problem solved.

  “This really is an unfortunate turn of events.” The mayor kept shifting in his chair, looking uncomfortable.

  “No, Mr. Mayor. This is by no means an unfortunate turn of events. This is an unconscionable turn of events, and it’s more than just a little stupid and shortsighted. I doubt the people who made this decision even know what they’ve ruined.” Mathis had no intention of being tactful. He was pissed off, and he clearly wanted the mayor to know it. Mathis believed that in some situations neither diplomacy nor compromise was appropriate, because a mediocre outcome would only cause the company involved more damage. This appeared to be one of those cases.

  The mayor
grew pale and picked up his glass of water.

  “We demand to know what’s behind this decision,” Mathis said. “Something else has to have been going on that Mr. Wiegandt was never made aware of. So, what’s behind this conspiracy?” Marco certainly wasn’t concerned about making friends here. I half expected the mayor to kick us out of his office. But he must have been feeling more guilty than we originally thought. He looked as pale as a ghost.

  “I don’t know that I’d call this a conspiracy . . .”

  “What would you call it then, sir?”

  “Well . . .”

  “You see? It’s exactly the right word for what’s happening here.” Leaning back in his armchair, Mathis sighed and shook his head. I decided to jump in.

  “Mr. Mayor, you remember that at the end of last year we met with you to explain the new concept we developed with Mr. Hagena and Mr. Wiegandt—one that concerns the promotion of sustainable urban development, which stands to have an extremely positive impact on the labor market.” I gave the mayor a pensive look.

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  “And you understand that if we are to facilitate this positive impact, qualified workers must first be trained. If Mr. Wiegandt’s company is shut down, a substantial part of the project can’t be completed and the potential employment opportunities disappear. Can our region afford that?”

  “Well, the situation in the labor market is already much improved,” the mayor said. “Just last month the city recorded a sharp decline in unemployment rates—”

  “From 16.1 to 15.6 percent,” I said.

  “Exactly. And this—”

  “This . . . you call an improvement in the labor market,” Mathis cut in forcefully. “So what’s really going on? Because telling the public that an unemployment rate of 15.6 is an improvement could set you up for a lot of criticism, don’t you agree?”

  The mayor should have known better than to try such flawed reasoning on us, I thought. Well, you couldn’t blame a guy for trying.

  “The truth is, my colleagues and I see no future in the kind of employment company proposed by Mr. Wiegandt,” the mayor said. “Since the federal government began to initiate unemployment reform, we’ve realized very few of our own initiatives. And of course, there are no funds because—”

  “You’d rather finance unemployment benefits,” Marco said.

  “Now see here, Mr. Gerlach . . .”

  “Oh, I see, Mr. Mayor. I see very clearly what’s going on. We had the guts to create a program that would help generate tens of thousands of jobs for the unemployed. Or maybe the problem is that the shareholders didn’t write the proposal, so they can’t take credit for it? Because if that’s the problem, I assure you they can add their own details and take as much credit as they like once the program’s been established. All that matters to us is that people have a chance to learn the skills required to get the jobs they need. Getting credit for all this matters more to other people than it does to us.”

  The mayor loosened his tie and looked even more nervous. Clearly, Marco’s comments weren’t that far off the mark.

  “Mr. Mayor,” Mathis tried again. “As we told you at our very first meeting: There’s a very good chance we can get massive financial support for our project. The city’s investment would be quite minimal. You don’t really want to make a political decision that’s going to wind up costing you millions, do you?”

  “No one can guarantee that the project will have that kind of success. And . . .”

  “You want a guarantee? I can make you one right now. If you dissolve Mr. Wiegandt’s company and our project doesn’t happen, I guarantee that very soon you and your colleagues will be unable to face the increasingly vocal unemployed in our city and region. Consider the social consequences alone: thousands of desperate, disgruntled people, without prospects for themselves and their families, without money, and without meaningful employment, hanging around all day on the streets, and eventually dreaming up stupid ideas—”

  “Plus, they won’t vote for you or your political party,” I said.

  “It won’t be that bad. There are still lots of opportunities for employment,” the mayor said defensively.

  “Lots of opportunities. Can you give me an example?”

  This was followed by a long silence. Crap, I thought, now everything is totally bogged down. Finally, Mathis continued.

  “Mr. Mayor, if I may submit a proposal.”

  “Please.” The mayor sounded like a sulky child.

  “Thank you. The conceptual stage of our project is almost complete and the application for funding has already been submitted. We’ll know by the end of the summer whether it’s been approved. Why don’t you convince your colleagues to wait until then to make a final decision about dissolving Mr. Wiegandt’s company? Because if we find out that the European Union is ready to invest millions in our project, any other decision would be senseless. Don’t you agree?”

  “Look, I’ll think about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment. You’ll be hearing from me.”

  The mayor reached out his hand. It seemed pretty clear that he’d just blown us off. When Mathis grabbed his hand, the mayor grimaced in pain. Mathis’s sailor paw had given him a last warning on our way out. I hope it worked. I didn’t have a good feeling about all this.

  As summer approached, so too did Paula’s birthday.

  “How many kids do you want to invite?” I asked. It was a beautiful early summer evening, and we were sitting on our balcony for the first time that year.

  “I dunno. About twenty I guess.”

  “Twenty!” I repeated, horrified.

  “Maybe twenty-five. Probably not more than that.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring.”

  “Wait, I’ll make a list really quick,” she said and ran into her room.

  “It seems a larger party is in order.” Mathis smirked and offered me a glass of red wine.

  “I’m willing to have ten at the most, and that many only if there’s nice weather and we can do something like go to the swimming pool. Twenty! Is she dreaming?”

  “But if, contrary to expectations, you end up with more than ten children, why not hold the party at the petting zoo? The animals will entertain the children and—”

  “And the children will scare half the animals to death. No, let me see if I can think of a better option for a teeming horde.”

  Paula came running in with a list of twenty-two names, neatly numbered on a piece of paper.

  “That’s all?” I asked.

  “I can’t think of any more right now. But I might be missing someone.”

  “You’re definitely not. I’ll start whittling the list down now.”

  “Whittling it down?” cried Paula, distraught. “But these are all my best friends!”

  “That’s almost your whole class, Paula.”

  “No, it’s not. Kira and Lukas and Michael aren’t on there because they’re boring.”

  “And where is everybody going to sit in this little apartment? And who’s going to bake this giant cake?”

  “Hmm.” Paula rubbed her nose while she considered this. “I think they can sit on the floor. And I think Grandma can bake the cake. I’ll even let her have a piece.”

  “That’s very generous.”

  “But only if she bakes it. If she bakes it and I don’t let her have a piece, that would be mean.”

  “All right, let’s start cutting down the list—by at least half.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue. The other kids never get to invite so many, either.”

  Moaning, Paula ripped the list out of my hand and went through it again. After about five minutes she gave it back to me. Two names had been crossed out with a thick line. There were still twenty names left.

  “No, Paula. You ca
n’t invite more than ten.”

  “But I’ve already crossed out so many names.”

  “Two.”

  “I know!”

  “So who do we need to cross off next?”

  “Oh, man!” Paula angrily stomped her foot. “You’re always so mean to me! It’s like I don’t even get to have a birthday party!”

  “If you keep on acting like that, then yes, it’ll be just like that.”

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “We’ll take out a few more. I don’t like Ludwig anyway.” She crossed Ludwig’s name off the list. I wondered: Who was he anyway?

  “Karina’s always burping, which is disgusting, and Melanie always cries when she doesn’t get any gifts at somebody else’s birthday party, and Klara . . .”

  Slowly but surely, we got the list reduced to ten. Some of those children might not even be able to make it, I thought, and then we’d really have a good-sized group.

  “Tomorrow we’ll fill out the invitations,” I said with a glance at the clock. Twilight was past. It was now dark and cool, and I was shivering. “Now off to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

  Paula left and Mathis and I made ourselves comfortable in the living room with another glass of red wine.

  Paula’s big day came and, with it, rain that pounded against the window as I awoke, putting me immediately in a bad mood. Today was Paula’s eighth birthday, and this was the first time we had planned to celebrate outside. People always told me how lucky I was to have a summer baby, since I could hold birthday parties outside and not get my place dirty. Oh, well. So much for going outside.

  With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and checked to make sure the gifts and the party decorations Mathis and I had hung the night before were in place. Paula came zooming in.

  “Wow! Is all that for me?” She immediately tore into the first box.

  “May I be the first to wish you happy birthday, Paula?”

  “Yes, right, but—wow, look at this!” She held up a detective case with accessories and gave me a radiant smile. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten in my whole life! Thank you, Momma!” She jumped up, and I got my chance to congratulate her on her birthday.