by Dora Heldt
Christine peered over the railing. No, it wasn’t her father following Inge. In fact, it wasn’t anyone that Christine knew. Aunt Inge looked utterly entranced by this man as he gestured for her to go up the stairs first, then followed her. His hair was flecked with silver, and an expensive suit showed off his buff physique. More shocking, he was in his early fifties at most. Easily a decade younger than Aunt Inge.
They walked into the bar together. Aunt Inge clearly hadn’t noticed her niece, even though she was looking around in search of a table. Christine leaned back carefully on her chair and peered into the restaurant, where her aunt settled with her back to the window on the fourth chair she had tried. Her companion, who had been waiting politely, now sat down opposite her. He was incredibly good-looking, and he was smiling at Aunt Inge.
Christine squinted. Was that the look of someone who had just been swept off their feet by late-life love? Although…she was actually much more interested in seeing how Aunt Inge looked at that moment. But Christine couldn’t see Inge’s face from the terrace, and her back didn’t tell her anything.
The stranger took some folded-up papers from his suit pocket, smoothed them out, and pushed them over toward Inge. Christine moved her chair forward to try to see Inge’s reaction. It seemed he was still talking, but she had her hand on his forearm.
“Who are you spying on?”
Christine almost lost her balance, but at the last moment her chair clattered back down onto all four legs. Startled by the noise, the other guests on the terrace looked up.
“Oh. Nothing. Hi, Luise, you’re here at last.”
With a quick glance into the bar, Christine reassured herself that Aunt Inge and her beau hadn’t noticed the commotion. He was still talking, and her hand was on the papers.
Luise followed her gaze. “That guy over there? The silver fox in the suit? Not bad, but I didn’t think you were on the hunt anymore. Speaking of which, where is your Superman anyway?”
“He’s out jogging. But he’s coming to meet us for dinner.”
Luise sat down. If Christine turned her neck slightly, she could still see her aunt’s back, but she, herself, was better concealed now that Luise was here. Relaxing at last, she focused on Luise.
“So? How are you?”
“Very well.”
As Luise turned around to get a better look at the inside of the bar, she asked, “So, what’s with that guy? Do you know him?”
“Luise! Don’t stare at him like that. He’ll notice.”
And he did. He raised his head and looked over in their direction. Christine leaned back to get out of his line of vision.
“Luise! Stop it!”
“Okay, fine,” she replied with a grin. “But only if you tell me what’s so interesting about him.”
Christine sat up straight again. “How old do you think he is? No, don’t look again!”
Luise looked at her and shrugged. “No idea. Maybe around fifty. Why?”
“He’s with my aunt.”
This time Luise did turn around. “Really? That’s your aunt?” She stood up. “Well let’s go and say hello.”
Christine grabbed her arm just in time. “Are you crazy? Stay here. I don’t think my aunt would want us to introduce ourselves now. She’s told the family that she wants to change her life—without giving us any good reasons for why she’s doing so. But I’ve just figured it out. As far as I can see, the reason is sitting right there. I can’t believe it. I feel sick.”
“Why? He seems really nice.”
“Luise! My aunt is sixty-four! Not fourteen!”
Her friend raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well, then, all the more reason! There’s no time to waste!”
At that moment, Anika came to the table and asked if they wanted to order. Luise decided it was a perfect evening for a Riesling.
“How can someone look that awesome?” Luise said, looking at the waitress admiringly as she walked away.
Christine spent the next half hour multitasking—listening to Luise’s stories of her recent vacation in Andalusia while trying to discern how intimate Aunt Inge really was with the silver fox. Again and again, the image of Uncle Walter came into her mind, mowing the lawn in his favorite Borussia Dortmund tracksuit. You had to admit, he didn’t come off well in comparison. Even though he was still in good shape. And attractive, too, in his own way. If you liked his type. The Uncle Walter type.
Aunt Inge and her companion had their heads pretty close together, admittedly, but beyond that Christine couldn’t make out any other intimate gestures. Although of course she couldn’t see what was going on under the table.
“And what do your parents think of him?”
Confused, Christine stared at Luise. She hadn’t even realized that Luise had trotted back to the subject of Aunt Inge after her stories of horse riding in Andalusia.
“They don’t even know he exists yet. I’ve only just spotted them together.”
“I’m talking about Johann.” Luise looked at her impatiently. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Yes, of course.” Christine tried to cover up her embarrassment with a cough. “Yes, my parents met him in Norderney. At first my father thought he was a little…How shall I put it?…A little odd, but then everything cleared itself up quickly.”
“Odd can be good.”
Johann’s voice made them both jump; they hadn’t even noticed him come up to the table. He cheerfully shook Luise’s hand and sat down next to Christine.
“Heinz thought I had deceitful eyes, and he spent two weeks spying on me, together with two other seniors and an insane reporter. They thought I was a con artist who was out to bilk attractive women like your friend out of their life savings!”
Luise shook her head, bewildered. “That’s a joke, right?”
Christine waved the comment away nonchalantly, making sure she didn’t draw too much attention to herself for fear of her aunt noticing.
“My father got the idea in his head and got a bit carried away with it, but it wasn’t all that bad.”
Last summer, she had told Luise an abridged version of her relationship with Johann. The whole truth had been too embarrassing. She didn’t want Luise to think that Heinz wasn’t in his right mind.
“Well”—Johann laid his arm on the back of Christine’s chair and gave a wry smile—“it wasn’t all that good either. By the way, why are you fidgeting around like that, Christine?”
She bit her lip to stop herself from saying the wrong thing.
“Christine’s aunt’s in there, in the restaurant, and we think she’s with her new lover,” Luise explained for her.
Was it Christine’s imagination, or did Johann sigh? In any case, he took his arm from the back of her chair and signaled to the waitress.
“I’m not going to ask whether you’re spying on your aunt. I don’t even want to know. But just to let you know, anyone else would have gone over and said, ‘Hello, Aunt Inge. What are you doing here? May we join you?’…Hi, I’d like a beer. A large one, please.”
The last comment was directed at the beautiful Anika, who took his order and then disappeared again.
Christine took a deep breath and decided to go into the restaurant, act as if she’d just seen her aunt, and say hello to Inge. But the arrival of Luise’s husband, Alex, thwarted her plan. He came running up the steps, waved briefly at the others, said, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared into the restaurant.
As he came back out onto the terrace, Luise looked at him expectantly. Alex pulled a chair up to the table, kissed Christine on both cheeks, shook Johann’s hand, and sank down into his chair. Then he looked around.
“Is there table service, or do we have to order inside?”
“The waitress is coming.” Luise laid her hand on his. “Did you notice the couple sitting right by the bar?”
“Which couple?” Abruptly, Alex turned around, at which Christine gave him a solid smack on his upper arm.
“Don’t turn
around,” she hissed.
Bewildered, he rubbed his arm. “Ow! What’s wrong with you?” His gaze fell on Johann, who had buried his face in his hands. “Did I miss something? Are they celebrity-spotting?”
Christine wondered whether Alex had always been this slow on the uptake. After all, he had passed right by Inge and her companion, so he must have seen them.
“The old lovebirds, darling. The woman in the red suit and the silver fox. You almost walked right into their table.” Luise’s voice was both patient and enthusiastic at the same time.
“I didn’t see any lovebirds.”
Christine leaned forward. “Do you mean they weren’t lovebirds or that you didn’t see anyone at all?”
Alex pulled his arm out of harm’s way. “I don’t know, I really needed to go to the…”
“Christine.” Johann’s voice sounded very soft and kind now, as if he were speaking to a psychopath who was about to lose it. “You can ask your aunt yourself in a moment. They’ve just paid. I’m only telling you so you can keep your composure.”
At that moment, Aunt Inge came out of the door, the stranger holding it open for her. Before they descended the steps together, Aunt Inge turned around quickly, waved cheerfully, and called out, “’Bye, Christine. Have fun!”
Christine’s face suddenly felt hot, and she heard Johann say, “She obviously knew you were here the whole time.”
It sounded like he was enjoying her embarrassment.
Chapter 6
* * *
The evening with Luise and Alex was a lively and long one, which meant Christine didn’t surface until ten thirty the next morning. Johann had already showered and was sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair out of her face.
“I was beginning to think I’d have to resuscitate you.”
He looked good. Really good. Handsome and wide awake. She couldn’t say the same for herself. And yet she was still getting kissed.
“Good morning.” She pulled herself up slowly and leaned against him. “Have you already been downstairs?”
He handed her a mug. “Yes, I fetched you some coffee. Mind, it’s hot.”
“Are my parents in?” Christine took a sip and promptly burned her tongue. “Ow!”
“I told you it was hot. Your father’s gone to Kampen, and your mother’s out in the backyard poisoning ants.”
“That means she’s in a bad mood. She only carries out ant massacres when she’s annoyed.”
Johann took the cup from her hand and took a sip. “Heinz wasn’t in that great a mood either. He went to see Petra. He wants to find out what your aunt’s doing there.”
“Hmm, then it sounds like Mom is going to be spending a lot of time in the garden with the insecticide. We should take the bikes and spend the day riding around the island. We’ll disguise ourselves with sunglasses and hats and speed up if we see anyone I’m even remotely related to.”
“Excellent idea.” Johann lifted his hand for a high five from Christine. “Go take a shower then, and I’ll ask your mother where the bikes are.”
“They’re in the shed. But ask her if you want to.” Christine stood up. “And don’t accept any sweets from her. I’ll be quick.”
A good hour later they were riding along the road toward Kampen. Christine had decided to skip the breakfast her mother had offered to make and treat Johann to brunch in the Copper Can instead. The weather was bright and breezy, so they could sit in the garden and look out over the waves toward Denmark. If that didn’t put Johann in a romantic mood, then Christine didn’t know what would. The gentle May breeze, the view over the water, the scent of the pink Sylt roses, and riding along behind Johann—it all lifted her mood and filled her with confidence.
In front of the Copper Can, they locked their bikes together and went through the bar into the enchanting café garden. Christine was hobbling a little; she wasn’t used to long cycle rides anymore. There was a table free with a lovely view over the mudflats.
Johann leaned back, looking relaxed, and lifted his face up toward the sun. “This really was a good idea,” he said. “It’s so peaceful here.”
Unfortunately, the peace only lasted until breakfast arrived. Then it was broken by a couple who sat down at the neighboring table, talking at the top of their voices, after almost knocking over the waitress as she brought Christine’s and Johann’s plates out. If Charlotte had been there, she would most likely have commented that they were acting “as if the whole place belonged to them.”
“Look, Günther, a good table. With a sea view.”
The voice sounded familiar. Christine turned around discreetly. It was the woman from the parking lot, the Cayenne woman! The man she was with was about seventy. He was wearing white jeans and a pink polo shirt with the collar up. Before he sat down, he looked around pompously, presumably to make sure everyone had noticed him. He gestured impatiently toward the chair in the shade opposite him.
“Come on, mouse, sit down, you’re blocking the sun.”
The World Champion of Women’s Parking sat down. Her facial expression was unreadable.
Johann’s foot stroked over Christine’s. She looked into his brown eyes.
“Yes?”
“Hey, mouse, you’re staring at strangers again,” he said, clearly amused.
“I’m not staring. I just had a quick look. I’ve seen that woman before. I tried to help her get out of a parking space yesterday. And you know I hate pet names.”
“So what happened?”
“It didn’t end well. Can you pass me the scrambled eggs?”
As she piled up eggs onto her plate, the couple next to them got their drinks, a large Pils for him, and a still water with lemon and no ice for her. No wonder she could fit into a size six. Christine could only make out snippets of their conversation: “I thought you wanted to eat?…Hello, miss? I’ll have another ham baguette.”
He then reached for his newspaper and started to read. The woman nibbled on her fingernails and stared out to sea.
Johann poured the coffee and brushed his hand over Christine’s arm. “You’re so quiet. What’s on your mind?”
“That there are so many strange couples around. Don’t you think?”
He glanced at the neighboring table. “Do you mean those two?”
“Yes, among others. She’s sitting there looking hurt, he’s reading the paper, they’re not talking, and I’d hazard a guess that they’re not having sex anymore.”
“The things you think about.” Johann stirred his coffee and looked back over at them. “He’s probably having sex with his secretary. But she gets a big car and expensive jewelry and goes to Sylt with him twice a year. It’s called companionship.”
And this was the man who had accused her of stereotyping Renate.
“How did you guess about the car?”
“She looks like the Lexus RX type,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “And he has the money.”
“She drives a Cayenne. And you’re stereotyping. I wouldn’t want to have a marriage like that. I think it sounds awful.”
Johann’s dimples appeared when he smiled, and it made Christine’s heart skip a beat. He leaned over. “So what would you do if you were married to a man like that?”
“I would never have married him in the first place.”
Johann shook his head. “None of them start out like that. What would you do if your husband ended up behaving like that guy?”
“I would leave him.”
Now he was grinning. “So how old do you think they are?”
“Mid to late sixties?” As soon as she answered his question, she realized what he was alluding to and instantly regretted it. “Johann, that’s unfair. You can’t compare the two. Uncle Walter is completely different. And so is Aunt Inge.”
“Why? A bad marriage is a bad marriage. You know that. And if it doesn’t get better, you leave. It doesn’t matter how old you are.”
Annoyed, perhaps because of the truth in his words, Chri
stine tried to think of a comeback. “And…well…besides, you don’t know my aunt and uncle, so you can’t judge.”
Her comment sounded harsh, and she had meant it to. But she immediately felt guilty. Luckily Johann was less sensitive. “Christine, I’m not trying to judge. I would just really like it if you didn’t get involved. Let your aunt do whatever she wants. After all, she’s a grown-up, and so are we. I’ve been looking forward to this vacation so much.”
Christine stood up, went around the table, and kissed Johann. On the lips, and in front of everyone.
It had a considerable impact; the Cayenne woman looked over, first confused, then a little envious, and finally with a hint of recognition. The pink polo–shirted man craned his neck and mumbled what sounded like a snide remark.
Johann kissed her back, nipping at her lip as if to say, “So there.”
Chapter 7
* * *
Kampen, May
Dear Renate,
I’m really revved up—things are happening here that I just can’t quite get my head around. Do you remember when you read my horoscope for this year to me on the phone recently? What did it say again? On to new pastures…new faces…all my dreams coming true? It’s unbelievable how my stars seemed to know it so precisely.
Right now I’m sitting in a nice new café bar right on the Westerland Promenade, drinking tea, and looking out to sea. The whitecaps on the waves are glinting in the sun—so lovely! I was here yesterday evening, too, having an interesting meeting with a certain man…but that’s one of the things I need to tell you about when we see each other again.
My niece was here yesterday, too, by the way. She saw me coming and acted as if she didn’t recognize me! Who knows what’s going on in her head. Maybe the new boyfriend is her problem. I’ll have a talk with her soon. Could you have a look at her horoscope too? She’s a Scorpio. I don’t want the poor girl to end up being unhappy because of a man.
