Sea Air (26 page)

“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.

O
ver 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 taste. 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.

“Why’s that?”

“Because he doesn’t sleep in the same bed with you.”

I swallowed hard. If she only knew. “There’s no reason besides that?”

“Nope,” she said, happily licking her ice cream.

“Do you really want to go to Sweden?” I asked after a while.

“Sure, going to Sweden’s going to be fun! I’ve never been there. Maybe we can go visit Pippi Longstocking. Sandra said she lives there.”

“What if we don’t find her?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll still be fun.”

At the moment,
fun
wasn’t the word that came to mind when I thought about my reunion with Mathis. I had a guilty conscience, and I felt sure that he would sense this and ask questions. What would I say when he did?

After deliberating a long time, I came to a decision that Steffen found decidedly unfun. I hadn’t made it lightly and had in fact lain awake all night thinking about the situation, but what I needed to do finally came to me.

When I told him, two days before Paula and I were supposed to leave, his jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious, after all that’s happened between us.”

“I’m sorry, Steffen, but I’m completely serious. I’ve been thinking about it for days, and my decision is final. I’m going to see Mathis in Sweden.” To my relief, my voice sounded strong despite my nervousness.

“But why, Nele? We’ve had some incredible days—and nights. I thought everything between us was . . . You can’t do this to us!” Steffen’s voice broke, and he looked so desperate that my eyes filled with tears, too.
You’re heartless
,
Nele Martens
, I thought
. Everywhere you go, you destroy things
. Steffen deserved better, but I knew there was no turning back. I had to hurt him now if there was any chance of saving my relationship with Mathis.

“Steffen, please be realistic. We tried this before and it didn’t work. The things we want from life are just too different, and I doubt your attitude has changed since then.”

“Yours certainly hasn’t,” said Steffen. “You act like it’s some sort of crime to want a family, children, and a happy reunion when the husband comes home at night—”

“With a wife who dutifully has a hot meal waiting on the table for him,” I finished for him.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Steffen shouted. “What’s the big deal, Nele? What in God’s name does this Mathis give you that I don’t?”

“Freedom,” I said in a weak voice.

“Freedom? Please! Nele, stop kidding yourself. The one little thing Mathis gives you is freedom? What kind of freedom is that? He leaves you behind and doesn’t even get in touch for weeks. Is that what you want? You can count on this guy to give you all the freedom in the world, but you won’t be happy. You know what I think, Nele? I don’t think this has anything to do with me. This is about you and your fear of commitment.” Steffen grabbed me by the shoulders. “You don’t know what the hell you want.” His voice was urgent. “Don’t throw your life away on a married man who’s old enough to be your father.”

“I’m sorry, Steffen. I don’t have a choice,” I said in a soft voice.

The next thing I heard was the sound of my door slamming shut.

T
here he is! It’s Mathis!” Paula stood at the ferry railing and waved wildly until he saw us and waved back. My heart leaped when I saw him in his light summer pants and blue shirt, his skin tanned, and his hair tousled by the wind. I knew for sure then that I was anything but done with him. I rushed to the ferry exit with Paula. As soon as our feet hit the ground, Mathis was upon us, and before I could even say hello, his lips were on mine.

“My God, Nele, I’ve missed you so much!” He couldn’t stop kissing me. Instantly, I was filled with bliss and all my doubts melted away.

“Hey, can you two stop all that smooching? I’m here, too, you know!”

“Of course I know that, Paula.” Laughing, Mathis scooped Paula up in his arms and whirled her in a circle. “Did you enjoy the boat trip?”

“It was great! And you know what I got?” She waved a paper in Mathis’s face, the pirate diploma that she’d made in the children’s program on the ferry from Germany to Trelleborg on Sweden’s south coast. He studied it for a good long while. “Oh dear,” he said in mock desperation. “Now that you’re a pirate, I’ll have to watch out: you might make me walk the plank!”

“I might!” Paula laughed and poked him in the ribs.

“Okay, but now we’ve got to drive a bit out of the city,” Mathis said. “I’ve booked us in a beautiful little beach hotel not far from here, just for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll drive up the coast until we get to Stockholm in nine days.” We climbed into Mathis’s rental car, which seated three quite comfortably, and it wasn’t long before we’d reached the outskirts of Trelleborg.

“Welcome to Sweden,” said Mathis, squeezing my hand. “It’s wonderful to have you here. Last week was a lot of work, and I haven’t seen much of the countryside or Stockholm. Now we can do that together.”

“It wouldn’t have hurt you to call,” I mumbled.

“But, I did.”

“Two days ago you called to tell me to take the ferry instead of a plane. But for more than two weeks I didn’t hear a thing from you.”

“I’ve had a lot to think about,” Mathis said.

“That’s no reason—”

“That was exactly the reason. I longed for you terribly, Nele, believe me. But sometimes I just need some time to myself.”

That sounded just ominous enough to make me think twice about pursuing the topic further. Just as I was about to add more fuel to the fire, Paula piped up.

“I was supersick while you were gone, Mathis, did you hear?”

“Really? What did you have that was so bad?” he asked.

“I fell on my head and had to go to the hospital, and then I had to stay in bed for a long time, and my head hurt a lot.”

Mathis looked at me, and I nodded. “How did that happen?” He looked quite stunned. I told him about the bumper cars.

“Well, that’s really something.” He turned to Paula. “That could have ended very badly.”

“Not really.” Paula sounded perfectly cheerful. “Steffen was there, so nothing really bad could happen because he’s a doctor. He came to see me every day and sometimes he read to me. I liked that. Steffen’s really okay.”

As she spoke, Mathis became visibly pale. In contrast, I figured my face was turning a deep, dark red, judging by how warm I felt.

“At least you weren’t bored while I was gone,” Mathis noted after he’d recovered a little.

“Me? Oh, no. Steffen came over to see Paula,” I said.

“How selfless of him.” Mathis didn’t seem to be doing so well with this revelation.

So what?
I wanted to yell at him.
You weren’t there.
But my guilty conscience kept me silent.

“Do you have something to tell me, Nele?” asked Mathis in a quiet voice, but I shook my head. I didn’t know whether I’d ever tell him about how I’d doubted him, or about the days, and nights, I’d spent with Steffen. I felt that Mathis had already guessed some of it, but he said nothing and simply squeezed my hand.

The small beach hotel was of a typical Swedish design and had been built on a small hill, giving us a wonderful view of the bay from our suite. The scene from the hotel’s expansive terrace, where we ate dinner, was also breathtaking, and a sea of colorful, fragrant flowers surrounded us.

I washed down my crab soup with a cold, refreshing beer. “This is like something out of a dream,” I said. Mathis and I avoided the topic of Steffen and, slowly, the tension that had built up between us in the car began to dissipate. We enjoyed the balmy evening out on the terrace until twilight, when the temperature dropped, and then we retired to our room. I could hardly wait to feel Mathis’s warm skin against mine.

“What happened between you and Steffen?” Mathis asked abruptly. I was snuggled up in his arms, on the verge of falling asleep, when his words woke me with a start.

“What do you mean?” I asked, then instantly regretted it. This situation called for complete honesty. Anything less could only end in catastrophe and in a distrust that couldn’t be repaired. Mathis gave me a piercing look and waited. “You’re right,” I admitted. “I slept with Steffen.”

Mathis turned from me and stared at the wall, while I stared unhappily at his muscular, suddenly tense back. Things looked pretty bad. I had hurt both Mathis and Steffen deeply with my irresponsible behavior. What had I been thinking, and how had I hoped this might all turn out? I had no answers.

“Mathis, I’m so sorry. I’m not even going to try to talk my way out of this. I just got caught up in the moment.” I waited, but he lay where he was, facing the wall. I burst into tears. “It’s just that I was so alone, Mathis, and I was so scared after Paula’s accident. I felt so desperate and you weren’t there—you weren’t even reachable. But Steffen was there. He took care of Paula and . . . My God, Mathis, I missed you! But you weren’t there when I needed you so badly. I . . .” I started to sob, my face in my hands. For several minutes, I cried out the tension of the last few days. After a little while, Mathis put his arm around me, and I let my body sink against his.

“This hurts so much, Nele,” Mathis said, sounding sad. “The idea of you in the arms of this man . . . Oh, Nele, you’re right. It’s shameful the way I neglected you. Things could have turned out so much worse for Paula, and I wasn’t there. I was off somewhere, exploring my own needs for weeks, and leaving you on your own. This isn’t working and—worse—I was irresponsible. You had every reason to be upset with me. I practically threw you right back into Steffen’s arms.” Mathis said this last sentence so quietly, I could barely hear him. I looked in his face and saw tears welling up in his eyes.

I wiped away a tear that had been running down his cheek. “I know how much I’ve hurt you. Let’s just forget about this and leave it behind us. Please, try. I love you, Mathis.”

Mathis nodded and swept a strand of hair away from my forehead. “I love you, too, Nele, more than I can say. I’ll try. I promise you that I’ll do better. I don’t want to lose you, Nele.”

Mathis pulled me back against the pillow then, and we made love with a tenderness more intense than any I’d experienced before, with any man.

The good weather held for the next few days, allowing us take full advantage of the diverse Swedish landscape. We borrowed bikes and rode through forests, rowed canoes over idyllic lakes, sailed through the gorgeous archipelago, and strolled through picturesque villages that looked like they might be home to Pippi Longstocking. Whatever we did, we enjoyed being together.

I forced myself not to think about our trip’s inevitable end and our imminent return to everyday life. But when we arrived in Stockholm after eight days of travel, a deep sadness came over me. In just two more days, all this would be over. Mathis would return to his family, and we’d go back to having him only part of the time. Paula was right: in our apartment, Mathis was just a visitor, no matter how I wanted to spin it. After our time together in Sweden, it would be harder than ever to accept this. Just as bad: back home, I ran the risk of running into Steffen. I wished things could always stay the way they were for us in Sweden. That night, I cried myself to sleep.

“You look tired,” Mathis said at breakfast the next day. He looked at me with concern. “Something wrong?”

I shook my head. “I just didn’t sleep very well.”

“Momma doesn’t want to go home,” Paula said. “I don’t either—at least, not yet. Why do we have to take such a short vacation when there’s still so much summer break left?”

“Because we need to work,” I said.

“Other parents have to work, too, and they still take three-week vacations. Juliane’s family did that.”

“I took some vacation already and I can’t stay away any longer,” Mathis explained.

“Why didn’t you take us with you?”

“Because he went on vacation with his children,” I said.

“We could have gone with them, couldn’t we? Unless they’re mean. Are they mean?”

I sighed. How was it that children always zeroed in on exactly those things you didn’t want them to think about?

“Mathis’s children just wanted some alone time with their father. They don’t get to see him a lot.”

“Why not? Mathis lives with them.”

There wasn’t a lot I could say to that. I took a bite of my cereal, figuring I’d let Mathis try to answer. Why should I be the one to justify his actions? I was having a hard enough time coming to terms with them myself.

“You know, Paula,” Mathis began, “it’s not easy having two families. You want to be with both at the same time, and that just isn’t possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” Mathis looked to me for help, but I ignored him and excused myself to take another trip to the buffet.

“I can’t change it now,” I heard Mathis say when I returned. He sounded slightly irritated.

“So, what fabulous thing do we want to do today?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I want to see the queen’s castle,” Paula said, falling for my ploy. “Do real princesses live there, Momma?”

“
Two
princesses and a prince.”

“What are their names?”

“Victoria and Madeleine, and the prince is . . . Philip, I think.” I wasn’t totally sure. I’d have to go see my hairdresser if I wanted to get an update on the royals. But Paula was satisfied.

“Sandra says the queen is from Germany. Is that true?”

“Yes, Queen Silvia is German.”

“Can we go talk to her?”

“I don’t think she has time for visitors. She’s busy governing the country.”

“Is it hard to govern a country?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never done it.”

“Sandra says that Pippi Longstocking came from Sweden. So where does she live now?”

“Pippi Longstocking is just a story, Paula. She’s not a real person.”

“
Nuh-uh!
That’s not true!” Paula looked outraged. “I saw her on TV. She has red braids and a horse with spots on it.”

“I know she has red braids, but—”

“See, she
does
exist!”

“All right, let’s finish up breakfast and go see the queen’s castle.” Mathis stood up from the table.

“Yay!” Paula cried. “We’re gonna have another fun day!”

I wasn’t so sure about that, and one look at Mathis told me that, after this stressful breakfast, his good mood was gone. He spent the rest of the day lost in thought.

Two days later, Mathis dropped us off outside our apartment. “I can’t stay,” he said, after he’d helped us carry our luggage up. “I have to talk to my sons about something.” He kissed my cheek, patted Paula’s head, and promised to see us the next day. After he’d left, I sat on my suitcase while Paula ran around, happily greeting her dolls and stuffed animals.

“I’m gonna go see if Anneke’s home,” she said after a few minutes, then stormed down the stairs.

And me? I was left alone once again.

The letter sitting on my desk looked almost completely unremarkable, but—unremarkable-looking or not—I kept staring at the return address:
Federal Ministry, Berlin.
It had to be the decision about our application. Our request for funding had been granted—or rejected. I sat down and took a few deep breaths. Maybe I should make Marco open it, I thought at first. But I realized this was something I had to do—and wanted to do. I had been waiting for this moment for so long.

There was only a single sheet of paper in the envelope. With shaking hands, I unfolded it and began to read:

Dear Ms. Martens,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for funding has been accepted. Funding in the amount of EUR six million at annual rates of . . .

This was just so . . . “Fantastic!” I shouted into my empty office, then I charged toward the door to go tell Marco. Finally some good news! But Marco had already heard me screaming, and we ran into each other in my doorway.

“What’s going on?” He rubbed his sore elbows, which he’d bumped against the door.

“This!” I waved the letter under his nose. “It’s fantastic!”

Marco ripped the letter out of my hand and started to read. “Nele!” He pulled at his curly hair. “Oh my God!” He linked his arm with mine and spun me around. “We did it, we actually did it!” He let go of my arm and fell into a chair, releasing me so fast I almost ran into my desk. “I can’t even believe it. We got the full grant. Six million euros, Nele!”

“Looks like we’re really doing this thing,” I said. “And now Christoph can keep his job!”

“That’s right. We’d better get started. Do the others know?”

“Seriously? I opened the letter just now.”

“Then let’s round everybody up for lunch at Alfonso, so we can celebrate and start working on a battle plan. Don’t tell them what this is about—we’ll surprise them at lunch. I think Lars should come, too. Make enough copies of the letter to give to everyone, and I’ll make reservations for a table at Alfonso.”

“Yes, sir! Right away!” I said as Marco disappeared out the door. Given the circumstances, I decided to overlook the fact that he had apparently mistaken me for our secretary.

Christoph stared at the letter in disbelief, turning it over in his hands as if looking for a catch.

“You can take our word for it,” Marco laughed. “That’s the only page. Everything we need to know is in there, and it says the necessary paperwork will follow. Just be happy. This is a huge step.”