Sea Air

by Meeringa, Jule

  “Looks that way.” He grinned and said hello to the children, who were thrilled to see him.

  “Do you want to ride on the bumper cars with us?” Paula asked, bright-eyed.

  “I’m afraid I can’t. I brought someone else, and he wants me to ride with him.” Steffen pointed to a small boy about four years old, who stood next to him. After a second glance, I realized this was his nephew. I almost didn’t recognize him, he’d gotten so big.

  “Hi, Max,” I said, patting his head. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.” Of course, Max didn’t recognize me and quickly hid behind his uncle’s legs.

  “You can’t blame him,” Steffen remarked.

  “Of course not.” I felt annoyed with myself for not having a better comeback.

  “I see you didn’t bring your new boyfriend. I suppose he doesn’t have time for this. Am I right?”

  “Of course he has time for this,” I said, sounding angry. “He’s just on vacation!” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake, and I knew exactly what Steffen would say.

  “Without you? What a sweet boyfriend.”

  “It’s none of your business!” I snapped but knew that I had lost again. Instead of staying cool, I’d gotten hooked into a verbal war.

  “If you’ve got time, we could go get some ice cream after we ride the bumper cars. What do you think?” Before I could answer, Paula and Anneke started screaming in elation. “Oh yes! Let’s do that! It’s always fun eating ice cream with Steffen—remember, Momma? He always played with us and stuff, and sometimes he went with us to the slide.”

  “I remember, Paula,” I spoke in a gruff voice and then said something that I really didn’t intend to. “All right, we’ll go to the ice cream parlor.” I’d barely spit out the words when I realized what I’d done. Why hadn’t I just politely pulled Steffen aside and told him we couldn’t go? But now I had no time to think about it because we were next up at the ticket booth. Before I could say anything, I heard Steffen say, “Two adults and three children please.” The cashier looked us over quickly and said, “You can just buy the family ticket, it’s three euros cheaper.”

  “That’s perfect,” I heard Steffen say. “As you can imagine, taking three children on the bumper cars can get expensive for a young family.” He threw the young woman a playfully exasperated look and she gave him her sweetest smile. Such banter used to drive me crazy when we dated because Steffen’s charm worked on every woman he met, and he never missed an opportunity to prove it to me. I was surprised that it still bothered me. Even worse, I realized that I’d just thrown the cashier a withering look, causing her smile to freeze on her face. Steffen noticed, too. Looking triumphant, he picked up the children one at a time and placed them just outside the driving field so they could snatch up two cars when the next group of riders was released.

  My attention had just been caught by a small child who’d dumped his scoop of ice cream onto his not-very-thrilled father’s shirt, and Steffen was just in the process of tucking his change away, when Paula suddenly jumped out into the field of bumper cars. I turned and saw her and opened my mouth to call out. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bumper car round the corner toward her. Before I could say a word, Paula was flying in a high arc through the air. She landed headfirst on the concrete and lay motionless.

  Paralyzed by shock and horror, I covered my face with my hands. “No,” I stammered softly, then screamed, “Paula, no! Please, no!” Frantically, I fought my way through the crowd that had instantly formed around her still body. Panicked, I shouted her name over and over.

  When I finally reached Paula, Steffen was already bending over her. Someone cried out, “Leave her alone, she needs a doctor. Don’t move her!”

  “I’m a doctor.” Steffen said calmly and he began to palpate Paula’s head with skilled fingers while talking to her in a quiet voice. But she was unresponsive.

  “Please, Paula, say something,” I begged, caressing her face. “Please talk to me.”

  “She’s unconscious, Nele. She needs to go to the hospital.” The words were barely out of Steffen’s mouth when two EMTs squeezed through the crowd and started asking him questions. I sat beside Paula as if in a trance and watched everything as if through a haze. I couldn’t believe it was my child lying there, my little Paula, unmoving, with her head bloodied. It had to be a bad dream. I remembered how long Ines had remained in a coma, and I thought about all the difficult hours we’d spent caught between hope and despair. Would I have to endure all that again—this time with my own child?

  “What happened to Paula? Is she dead?” asked a whiny voice next to me. Only then did I remember Anneke and Max. They stared at Paula, their faces pale and tear-stained.

  “Don’t be afraid, Anneke. Paula isn’t dead, she’s just in a very deep sleep,” said Steffen in a quiet voice. “We’re taking her to the hospital now and she’ll get better soon.” He gave me a look of encouragement and gently squeezed my arm. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered. The next instant, I heard the wail of the ambulance, and only a few minutes later Paula and I were racing to the clinic. Steffen rode behind us with Anneke and Max.

  After two days, Paula was released from the clinic with a thick bandage around her head, but no major injuries beyond a fierce concussion that, understandably, caused her headaches. She remembered nothing about our trip to the festival. I felt sure that the shock and fear I’d gone through had taken at least ten years off my life, but I was deeply relieved that in the end relatively little harm had been done. I felt especially grateful to Steffen, who’d taken tender care of Paula and had done much to relieve my stress throughout the ordeal. On the evening of the day she was released from the hospital, he showed up at our doorway.

  “I wanted to see how our little patient is doing,” he said and walked in. This time, I had no intention of throwing him back out, I was so happy to have someone capable checking in on my daughter. Complications were unpredictable, and I’d heard horror stories about supposedly healed patients who’d been prematurely released from the hospital with unfortunate results. I brought him to Paula and left the two of them alone. I knew Steffen wouldn’t tire her out with his visit.

  I threw a wistful look at the phone. I’d tried to reach Mathis several times, but he had apparently turned off his cell phone, like he always did on vacation. How I needed his consolation and encouragement now! But he hadn’t been in touch, so I had to go through all this without his support.

  With a sigh, I started to make Paula’s favorite dish, pasta in a lamb-mushroom sauce. I was getting ready to carry a generous portion into her room a little later when Steffen stepped out of her doorway, placed a finger to his lips, and said, “Shhh, Paula’s asleep now.”

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed. “I just finished cooking her favorite dinner.”

  “Mmm, smells good! Don’t worry, she can have it later.”

  “How does she seem to you?” I gave him a searching look as I set her plate down in the kitchen.

  “She’s doing fine so far, but she needs a lot of rest. It would be best if no kids visited yet, at least not for the next few days, unless they can be very quiet. I’ve just given her something for her headaches and I read her a short story. She fell right asleep.” When he saw my worried face, he took me in his arms and gently stroked my hair. “Don’t worry, Nele, she’ll be good as new before you know it. You won’t be able to tell it even happened.”

  I dropped my head to his shoulder in relief and, despite being terribly tired, realized that the scent of his aftershave was beginning to stir up erotic memories within me. I cleared my throat and freed myself from his arms.

  “I’d better go now,” Steffen said, releasing me from my embarrassment. “If you want, I can come take another peek tomorrow.”

  “That would be great, thank you,” I said. I wished I dared to add, “But please don
’t ever take me in your arms again!” I wanted to avoid all physical contact with Steffen, because I was starting to feel like I couldn’t trust myself.

  Over the next week, Steffen came by every day. It was almost like old times. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, I caught myself waiting for him in the evenings. Sometimes we drank a glass of wine together after he’d seen Paula, whose condition improved every day. After three days, it was clear to me that Paula’s condition was now just a pretext for his visits. There was really no medical reason for him to keep coming to check on her.

  I invited him to come to dinner on Friday evening, telling myself that I was only doing it to get revenge on Mathis, who still hadn’t contacted me, despite my frequent attempts to reach him. The next day, he would travel to Stockholm as planned, and I’d thought that he would at least contact me before then. But I was wrong, and the phone remained silent. I’d begun to toy with the idea of not meeting him in Sweden after all. If he’d rather be alone—well, that was just fine with me.

  It was a gloriously warm summer evening, so Steffen and I decided to eat outside on the balcony. Paula had complained again about headaches and had gone to bed early. It probably was because Anneke had come for a visit, and Paula had gotten overexcited after not seeing her in so long.

  Steffen set up the outdoor table and chairs and covered the table with a tablecloth while I put the finishing touches on our dinner. A thought flashed through my mind—it should be Mathis preparing everything for a romantic dinner—and my guilty conscience woke up. What we were doing couldn’t be right. What would Mathis say when he found out about it? I wondered. I quickly dismissed the idea. It was just dinner.

  Steffen was just about to uncork a bottle of red wine when I joined him on the balcony with our dinner. He jumped up to grab a bowl that threatened to slip from my tray, barely catching it before it fell. A deluge of steaming sauce splashed onto his shirt.

  “Shit, that’s hot!” His face contorted in pain. Anyone else would have dropped the bowl automatically, but Steffen placed it carefully on the table before ripping off his shirt.

  “Oh, Steffen, so sorry!” I was horrified to see the scald marks on his stomach, the bright red contrasting with the deep tan of his upper body.

  “It’s all right,” he said with a crooked grin. “You’ve inflicted worse wounds on me than that. Do you have a cool compress?”

  “Uh, sure.” I snapped out of my trance and ran to the kitchen, wet a towel, and wrung it out. When I returned, I put the folded towel on his sore, tender skin. “Does it hurt a lot?” I asked, feeling anxious, but Steffen just gave a hoarse laugh and put a hand gently under my chin. I saw his face getting closer and closer. You can’t do this, I told myself, but it was too late. Steffen and I kissed long and passionately. I felt the heat wander up my thighs and let myself sink with a deep sigh into Steffen’s arms. He winced when I accidentally touched his burns, but when I started to cover the rest of his chest with tender kisses, he gave a loud and blissful groan. I let my lips travel lower, and then I slowly unbuttoned his pants, pulling him toward me. “Let’s go inside,” he gasped, but I shook my head and pointed at the garden chair cushions, indicating that he should spread them out on the balcony floor. He did exactly what I wanted, and soon we were rolling on the ground and hungrily clinging to each other. Steffen caressed my sweaty body. Suddenly, his fingers were everywhere. I felt hot shock waves shoot through me.

  “Let’s do it . . . please. Come on,” I moaned, believing I could take no more. But Steffen would not relent, and only after I felt myself being consumed by fire did he penetrate me, deeply.

  It was not the last time that we made love that night, and it was only after the mosquitoes began to feast on us that we eventually moved into my bed. It was almost morning when we finally fell asleep, and I forgot about the world around me.

  When I awoke, I was shocked to see Steffen lying next to me. Damn it! I thought. It wasn’t a dream, after all. Steffen slept soundly next to me, looking handsome and muscular. I snuck out quietly to check on Paula. She was still in a deep sleep, tightly hugging the teddy she had received from Mathis for her birthday. Mathis! What should I do now?

  About half an hour later, Steffen and I sat together at the breakfast table. “Please, come back to me, Nele,” he said. “We belong together, you know that, too.”

  I don’t know anything anymore, I thought, but I said, “It was a beautiful night, Steffen—just like old times. But you know I’m in a relationship now and—”

  “But you’re not happy, Nele.” Steffen stared right through me.

  “How do you know that?” I asked gruffly.

  “Anyone would have to be blind not to see it. If I had a new girlfriend who left me alone for a few days, I wouldn’t be cheating on her with my old one—not if I cared about the relationship. But you—”

  “It’s just the shock of what happened to Paula. I—”

  “You’re kidding yourself, Nele. You’re as attracted to me as I am to you.”

  “But that’s not about love, that’s . . . something different,” I said in a weak voice.

  “If you say so.” Steffen pushed a last mouthful of toast into his mouth and stood. “I have a tennis date now. See you tonight?”

  My body started to shiver at the prospect of another steamy night with Steffen, but I shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I think it would be better if we—”

  “Well, I think differently,” interrupted Steffen, and he kissed me tenderly on the mouth. “See you tonight,” he whispered, and before he walked out the door, he said, “I’m always here for you, Nele. I hope you know that.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought he put extra emphasis on “I’m”—a dig at Mathis, who, I realized, still hadn’t contacted me.

  “Shit . . . shit . . . shit!” I leaned in despair against the kitchen table, the dishes rattling as I shouted.

  “What’s going on, Momma?” Paula said in a frightened voice. “Why are you so mad?”

  Startled, I turned around and saw her behind me. Her little face was still pale after her accident, and I felt instantly ashamed of my lack of self-control.

  “Oh,” I said, “it’s not important, and it’s not about you. I just have to figure something out.”

  Paula gave me a suspicious look but said nothing more. We both sat down at the table, Paula in the chair where Steffen had just recently been seated.

  “Who were you eating breakfast with?” She looked in surprise at Steffen’s plate, which was covered with breadcrumbs.

  I felt my face grow hot. “Well, uh . . . Steffen was here,” I admitted.

  “Did he sleep here?”

  “Yes.” I suddenly felt very tired. “Yes, he slept here.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? I don’t really know the answer to that.”

  “Do you love Steffen now and not Mathis anymore?” Paula gave me a challenging look.

  Why were children so merciless about poking into a person’s deepest wounds? I wondered.

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just . . .” Well, I asked myself, what was it, really? “Honestly, Paula, I just don’t know. All this—it’s really not that easy.”

  Paula stared at Steffen’s plate for a few seconds.

  “We’re still going to Sweden soon to see Mathis. Right, Momma?”

  “Sweden,” I said in a dull voice. “Yes, we’re going to Sweden soon.”

  “When?”

  “In one week.”

  “That’s still a long time,” Paula observed, looking disappointed.

  “Yes,” I said. “You’re right. I wish we could go today, too. I get the feeling this is going to be a very long week.”

  I’m always here for you. Steffen’s parting words hit me hard, probably because he was right. Steffen always was there for me, and he always had been—a bit too much, in fact, for my tas
te. And Mathis—was he there for me? He certainly hadn’t been in the last couple of weeks, even when I needed him urgently.

  I searched my soul, trying to figure out what I really wanted. If I wanted to lead a calm and peaceful life, one without big surprises and without love—although certainly not without great sex—then Steffen was my man. But if I preferred to lead a crazy life—filled with surprises, not all of them positive, with a man who was already tied down, who was old enough to be my father, but who also loved me, offered a far-from-boring sex life, and felt compelled to live out the same dreams I did—then I should stay with Mathis. My thoughts turned to Paula and what was best for her. I knew that she needed the security of a family. But didn’t she also need to see and experience the world in new ways, beyond the narrow constraints and expectations of everyday German life? I felt more confused than ever.

  Steffen continued to show up every night, and I didn’t have the strength to resist him. As the day of our scheduled departure grew closer, I spent hours considering whether I should actually go. If I didn’t, my relationship with Mathis would undoubtedly be over. Did I want that? If so, then what would I do next—stay with Steffen? With that thought, I felt the all-too-familiar chain tighten around my heart. The nights with Steffen had been beautiful, and I had loved the feeling of being taken into his arms and not feeling alone anymore. But I couldn’t bear the idea of living the conservative life of a suburban doctor’s wife. And wasn’t it true that even when Steffen was with me, I longed with every fiber of my being to be with Mathis? I’m always here for you. Why couldn’t Mathis have been the one to say those words to me?

  To distract myself from my gloomy thoughts, I decided to go outside with Paula. It was time she got out into the fresh air to enjoy the wonderful weather.

  “Tell me, Paula,” I asked, as we wandered around the city park, each of us licking a chocolate ice cream cone. “Who do you like best, Mathis or Steffen?”

  “I like Steffen better,” Paula said after thinking it over for a moment.