It took quite a while for Paula to open all her gifts, eat a quick breakfast, and get ready for school. I stuffed some birthday candy in her backpack for her to share with her class.
“Oh,” she noted as she stepped out of the house. “Today we can’t have the party outside.” It was pouring in torrents and I went inside to retrieve her umbrella for her. Just as I walked in, the phone rang.
“Who is it? I don’t have time to talk!” I said into the phone.
“Hi, Nele, it’s Mother. May I speak with the sweet little birthday girl?”
“The sweet little birthday girl, Mother, is on her way to school.” I grabbed the umbrella and tapped it against the wall in my impatience.
“So then why don’t you have time to talk?”
“Because I have to take the umbrella to her.”
“Oh. It’s raining over there,” she stated unnecessarily. “You know, Nele, you’d think that if a child has a summer birthday, you could—”
“I didn’t order the rain, Mother!” I tapped the umbrella on the wall with more force now.
“Of course not, but still . . . wait, who’s screaming?”
“Paula. She wants her umbrella.”
“Well, so why don’t you take it to her? And if she’s still there, she should be able to come to the phone.”
“See you later, Mother. I have to go.” I hung up. Why had I picked up the phone at all? From outside, Paula’s long anguished cry rang out. Anyone who’d been peacefully asleep to that point was certainly awake now. I rushed downstairs, gave Paula the umbrella and a kiss on the cheek, then quickly shut the front door against the cold.
I’d just pulled out the last cupcakes from the oven when Paula’s first guest arrived at the front door. It was her friend Benedikt, who had brought Paula not only a gift but also a few daisies he’d picked himself. Oh, how sweet! I thought.
Paula took the flowers with great politeness, then handed them to me without turning around, saying, “These need to go in a vase.” Before I could offer an indignant reply, the next child was already on our stairs. And so it went, until the apartment looked like a zoo. To my regret, all ten children had actually showed up—and I was the only adult. Originally, Sandra was supposed to help me, but she had to drive to her publisher on short notice. Just my luck!
But I wouldn’t be stuck alone with the noisy brood for long. As the children happily wolfed down cupcakes, the doorbell rang again. Was another child coming? I wondered.
Unfortunately. It was even worse.
“Hello, my child,” my mother said, greeting me with a hug. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in and congratulate my sweet little birthday girl. Where’s my favorite child?”
“Take your pick,” I said, pointing to the living room.
“Ugh, they’re packed in here like sardines. If it wasn’t raining, you could have—”
“But it is raining.”
“Yes, unfortunately.” She looked at me as if this was somehow my fault. “You know, last week, darling Olivia had her birthday party. Gorgeous weather, I tell you. Nothing but sun, sun, and more sun. Oh, it was warm! Of course, with Frank and Cordula, it doesn’t actually matter. They have such a nice, big house with a yard and a veranda and everything a child could want. You don’t have that, so it’s much worse for you when it rains.” She let her gaze sweep through the apartment, her expression betraying regret at what she saw. “But that’s how it goes when you don’t have a man who can provide for you. Do you know who just this weekend—”
“Got married?” I put in, my nerves shot.
“Oh, no, what makes you say that? Did someone get married?” she said in excitement. I stared at her dully, tapping my foot. “I meant, do you know who died.”
“Nope.”
“Mr. Jungwirth, next door. He was only seventy-five. I don’t know why everyone has to die so young. Bam! He simply laid down and died, just like that. He gave his wife quite a scare!”
“How careless of him.”
“Wasn’t it? You know it’s too bad, only three people came.”
“What? To the funeral?”
“No, to Olivia’s birthday party.”
“Oh. Should there have been more at the party?”
“Well, yes. Darling Olivia had invited twenty children. But if everyone gets sick at once, what can you do?”
“You know, when a reluctance epidemic suddenly breaks out—”
“That’s so true,” my mother said, having tuned me out, as usual. “It’s true, because—”
“Grandma, what are you doing here?” Paula ran in and jumped into Grandma’s outstretched arms. “I’m glad you’re here. Did you bring something for me, too?”
“Of course, my little sweetheart. Here!” My mother thrust forward a huge package that she’d deposited at the door. She was beaming. Oh dear, I wondered. What was in there? The gift exceeded my worst fears.
“A drum set! You guys, come check this out! A real drum set!” Paula couldn’t contain her joy.
“Mother, this is a joke, right?” I pictured Paula and me having to move away, hated by our neighbors, all of us the victims of permanent hearing loss . . .
“Music is so important for children. It was Cordula’s idea. She always has the best ideas, doesn’t she?”
So, that was it! I’d have to get back at my backstabbing sister-in-law. But first, I had to figure out how to get this monstrosity away from the children, who of course all wanted to hammer on it at once.
“That’s enough!” I yelled, trying to make myself heard over the racket. “Stop!”
“But why, Momma? It’s fun!”
“The question is, fun for whom?”
My mother was in the kitchen, covering her ears and grinning like a Cheshire cat. “This will bring years of enjoyment, won’t it?”
I pulled the drumsticks out of the children’s hands and shooed them back to Paula’s room. “Okay, that’s enough drumming for today. Now we’re going to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey.”
“Me first!” six children hollered at once. I could see that squabbles were probably going to be unavoidable.
I had barely turned around when deafening music started to boom from Paula’s bedroom. Which child had hauled out this dreadful CD? I wondered.
Just then, the doorbell rang again. I shook my head and, feeling close to despair, opened the door. On the other side was a huge teddy bear—and it had Mathis’s voice. His head peeked from behind it, and I threw my arms around his neck with joy.
“Where did you come from? Are you sure that you want to come in? We’re having Paula’s birthday party, and I can’t imagine that anyone in his right mind would choose to be here right now.” I couldn’t stop hugging him, I was so grateful to see him.
“You didn’t say that you needed help, but I figured you would. Believe me, I know a little bit about children’s birthday parties. They’re pure hell!” Mathis knocked on Paula’s bedroom door, and when she stuck her nose out she saw nothing but a giant teddy bear. She screamed and hugged it tightly, then she peered around it, threw it to me, and leapt into Mathis’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, Mathis. It’s the one we saw in the store window, and I wanted it so much! I can’t believe it. This is the one, Mathis!”
“Yes, Paula, this is the one. The exact same teddy bear from the window.”
I felt deeply touched as I gazed at my two favorite people in the world.
“I didn’t get any cake,” I heard a voice from the living room complain. Mother! I’d forgotten about her. When Mathis set Paula down, she grabbed her new teddy from my arms and ran back into her bedroom with a renewed cry of joy. I walked into the living room with Mathis, feeling a sense of foreboding. He offered his hand to my mother.
“Hello. Mathis Hagena. Very nice to meet you.”
My mother nodded and lo
oked at me. “Is this your boss, Nele?”
I should have known. “I’m self-employed, Mother. I don’t have a boss.”
“Okay. So, who is this then?”
“My friend.”
“Oh, a good friend of the family.” My mother threw Mathis a crooked grin.
“Not a good friend of the family, Mother. Mathis is my boyfriend, my partner, or whatever you want to call it.”
“You never told me you had a boyfriend, Nele. You could have at least mentioned it.”
“If you ever listened to me, you’d remember about him, Mother. Keyword: architect. Does that ring a bell?”
“Oh the . . . uh . . . architect. I had imagined he was quite a bit younger.”
“Mother!”
“Can I get that cupcake now? And maybe some coffee?”
“Sorry,” I whispered in Mathis’s ear.
“It’s okay.” Mathis winked and whispered back: “I’m used to mothers-in-law.”
I put a cupcake on a plate and handed it to my mother. “Coffee’s coming.” I led Mathis into the kitchen. I certainly couldn’t leave him in her clutches!
“What’s that?” he asked as he noticed the drums.
“What does it look like?”
“A drum set?”
“Correct.”
“From you?”
“From Mother.”
“It’s really tough not to be loved by one’s mother,” he said.
“You’re telling me.”
“So, what do you do besides being an architect?” My mother had been grilling Mathis with such an air of skepticism, I’d begun to fantasize about throwing coffee on her.
“Why would you ask that, Mother? Isn’t being an architect enough?” I asked in a stern voice.
“Don’t overreact. Can’t a person ask a simple question?”
“No, actually, you can’t.”
“You at least have your own architecture firm?” asked my mother, undaunted.
“Yes, I do, with a partner,” Mathis replied, but Mother was no longer listening to him.
“My son Frank is doing very well.” She swelled with pride. “Business is very good, if you know what I mean.” She looked intently at the wall next to the sofa for a while, then licked her fingertip and tried to wipe out an old spot she saw there. Mathis patted my thigh to encourage me. “Oh, well,” she said and sighed. “You know, Nele had a nice boyfriend once, who’s also doing quite well. He always looked so stylish, with creases in his pants and so forth. He certainly made a career for himself, I can tell you that.” She gave Mathis the once-over. As usual, he was dressed in jeans and a shirt. “And then there was the doctor, Steffen, who was another perfect fit for Nele. But she wanted . . . Oh, I don’t know. Nele never was really sure—”
“Mother!”
But there was no stopping her. “Nele works, too. But I’m not really sure what she does. She still hasn’t explained it to me.”
“Oh, Nele’s work is quite interesting and varied,” Mathis said. “In fact, we’re working together on a project—”
“So,” my mother interrupted, “how old are you?”
“Mother.”
“Sixty.”
“Really? Nele’s father is sixty-three. He’s not doing so well these days. You know . . . the sciatica. Well, he’s at that age.”
“Mother, age is completely beside the point!” The moment she’d appeared in the doorway, I’d known her visit would be a disaster. Disasters followed my mother wherever she went. I hoped she’d be leaving soon.
Paula came into the living room, her face looking flushed. “Momma, we want to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey. We already drew straws and figured out who’s first and second and stuff.”
“That’s great, Paula,” said Mathis. “Do you mind if I help? Pin the Tail on the Donkey is my favorite game.” He seized at the chance to escape my mother’s clutches.
This offer earned him a big smile from my daughter. “Of course! You can spin us around or tie the blindfold. That’s totally hard but I think you can do it.”
“I’ll give it my best shot.” Mathis disappeared in a flash into Paula’s room where the games were set up. I got up and went into the kitchen to retrieve the candy I’d hidden inside a pot. When I came back to Paula’s room, I heard my mother saying, “You shouldn’t be sitting there on the bare floor. At your age, you’ll catch your death of cold in no time.”
“Mother, I really think you should go now. This is all a bit of a strain for you.” I picked up her purse to show her I was serious.
“But—”
“No buts!” I yelled. Several kids jumped ever so slightly. “Everything’s fine. Nothing to see here!” I said, feigning cheerfulness. “You all know, right, that Paula’s grandma doesn’t hear so well?”
“Like mine.” Benedikt nodded knowingly.
Looking offended, my mother grabbed her bag, patted Paula’s head, and swept dramatically toward the front door as I followed.
“Good-bye, Mrs. Martens,” Mathis called from Paula’s room. “Nice to meet you.”
But my mother seemed to have no desire to respond. She jerked the front door open, and the next disaster appeared on my doorstep. Just as my mother took her first step across the doorstep, my ex passed her on his way in. He carried a package tucked under his arm.
“It can’t be . . .” My mother squealed with delight and opened her arms wide. “It is! It’s our Steffen!” Before Steffen could move to defend himself, she’d pressed him up against her maternal breast.
“Hello, Mrs. Martens, it’s been a long time. How are you? It looks like you’re getting younger every day!” Steffen beamed at my mother but gave me a sly wink. That son of a bitch, I thought. The truth was, my eccentric mother always got on his nerves at least as much as she did mine. But he knew how to turn on the charm, and she was, of course, completely enchanted.
“Oh, Steffen, you’re so bad!” She gave a shrill laugh, whispered something in his ear and then—with a last, meaningful look at me—finally went on her way.
“What do you want now?” I snapped at Steffen.
“To visit Paula,” he said. “I was looking over the calendar today, and I realized—”
“Right now is not a good time, Steffen.”
“Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” Steffen laughed and took my arm. To my annoyance, I let down my guard for a moment. He just smelled so good, and he looked incredible! By the time I’d collected myself, Steffen had already disappeared into the apartment. Anywhere but in Paula’s room! I thought. What if Mathis saw him?
“Now, the real fun’s going to start,” Mathis said just as I walked in, and I thought, isn’t that the truth? A blindfolded little girl started to shriek with delight as he spun her around. When Mathis turned, he found himself looking Steffen straight in the eye—and lost all composure.
I cleared my throat. “Steffen has showed up unexpectedly. He wasn’t invited.”
Mathis and Steffen nodded to each other.
“Steffen?” Paula broke the awkward silence with a scream of jubilation and leaped into Steffen’s arms, just as she’d done with Mathis. “You remembered my birthday!”
“Hello, sunshine. You know I’d never forget you. Here.” He pressed a package into her hand. “This is for you. I think you’ve wanted it for a long time.”
I stood by as if in a trance, while a beaming Paula ripped the gift open.
“A Playmobil horse farm!” she shouted. “Awesome!” She squeezed Steffen tightly, her face radiant.
“Glad you like it, Paula,” Steffen beamed. I thought I saw him throw a triumphant glance at Mathis, but I wasn’t entirely sure. He walked back into the living room and I followed.
“Thanks for coming, Steffen, but we’re really busy, so you need to go now.” I spoke with certainty, pushi
ng him toward the door.
“Is that your new boyfriend?” Steffen nodded in Mathis’s direction.
“Would you please go?”
“I get it,” he said with a grin.
“Great. Good-bye, Steffen.”
Before I realized what he intended, Steffen kissed me on the cheek. Then he turned and left. Relieved, I leaned back against the door for a while, then I suddenly realized why Steffen had grinned like that. Damn it, I thought. Why hadn’t I just said, “Yes, I’m with Mathis now, and I love him”? But no, I had stayed silent because I’d felt embarrassed. What an idiot I was! I slunk back into the living room.
“I’m really sorry, Mathis—” I said, trying to explain. But Mathis waved me off.
“It’s okay, Nele, I could tell that it was a surprise for you, too. I could see it in your face.” Mathis gave me a crooked little smile.
“I—”
“Nele, it’s really okay. It’s over. Let’s talk about something else.”
I nodded weakly.
“Your mother’s quite lovely.” Mathis grinned.
“I’m really sorry, Mathis. I’m sorry to say, she’s always like that.”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t fall in love with her then. I hear she’s much closer to my age than you are.”
“You’re crazy!” I gave him a gentle smack on the back of his head.
For the first time, it struck me that Mathis and my parents really did belong to the same generation. I could hardly believe it. All joking aside, though, I figured my mother’s attacks and Steffen’s unexpected appearance had shaken Mathis up more than he was letting on.
Before long, the party was over, and all the parents came and took their kids home, taking the chaos of the day with them. Paula drifted off to sleep with her new teddy bear from Mathis and her old teddy, Balthazar. As we enjoyed the last of our dinner Mathis returned to an old refrain.
“You know, your mother was right.”
“What are you talking about? Mother’s never right.”
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