Adam and Evelyn (13 page)

“It’s truly lovely having you so close beside me again,” Adam said.

The table under the trellised arbor was already set. Michael and Herr Angyal, his glasses shoved up on his forehead, were sitting there, waiting.

“Adam just happened to find these in his trunk,” Evelyn said, pushing her hair away and tossing her head back and forth.

Into the silence that followed her announcement, Adam said, “Yep, that’s right.”

“HERR ADAM
, good morning, did you sleep well, Herr Adam?”

“Wonderful. Like in the bosom of Abraham. And Elfi is enjoying Lake Balaton too.”

Adam walked over to the little pen that Herr Angyal had built for the turtle.

“I gave Elfi some carrot.”

“Well, she’s polished that off,” Adam said and sat down at the table.

“Would you like coffee, please?” Frau Angyal tipped the pitcher of warm milk and set the whisk whirling. Adam lifted the lid of the sugar bowl and shoveled three teaspoons into his cup.

“I thought today for once I’d be the last.” He reached into a soup bowl for a handful of small dark grapes.

“What day of the week is it?”

Frau Angyal didn’t hear him. Her whole upper body was now in motion, her face flushed. She moaned softly, gasped a quick breath, and in the brief pauses she allowed herself, blew strands of hair out of her eyes.

“Ready!” Frau Angyal exclaimed, picking up a spoon and pushing the foaming milk over the spout, from which it ran in a thin stream into Adam’s cup. As she brushed his shoulder, her upper arm was sticky and hot.

“Is your husband already at work?”

“He has gone to get our Pepi, they will be here tomorrow.”

“The coffee’s so good, your spoon stands straight up in it.”

“You are very kind, Herr Adam, always kind,” said Frau Angyal with a sigh.

“You take such good care of us—it’s how I picture paradise.”

“May I show you something? No, remain seated, I shall bring it, keep your place.”

Frau Angyal hurried into the house. Adam opened the bowl again and strewed sugar evenly across the foamy milk, then dunked his
hörnchen
. Stillness—a cricket, a lark above the vineyard, and except for the rustling of leaves, he would never have noticed the breeze.

“Look here, Herr Adam, is it not splendid? Just feel it.” Frau Angyal was holding a roll of burgundy fabric in her arms, cradling it with pride and joy.

“Where did you get that?”

“It belongs to a friend. She got it from Switzerland, from her brother. Please, here.”

Adam wiped his hands on his napkin and felt the fabric. “Crepe de chine? This is really marvelous crepe de chine. I once had something like it, but not of this quality, and not so much and not this color. How many meters are there, ten, twelve?”

“A dozen is what she told me, that would do for us all, she said.”

“And what is to be made of it?”

“Something festive, for the wedding of her son, a dress for her. Here, please.”

Adam gave his lips an appreciative twist and accepted the roll.

“Herr Adam, I do not dare, but I should ask, although you are on vacation, if you would want to. It would be wonderful if you could sew for her, because she promised if something is left over, I can use it, but only if you want to, although it is vacation, which is why—”

“Do you have a sewing machine?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Magda has an electric, and it’s a Textima.”

“If you really think I’m the right person—gladly.”

“Really, Herr Adam, really? You are not angry with me?”

“No, I’m happy to be useful, so have her come here, or we’ll go there, just as you like.”

“What a joy, Herr Adam, what a joy! I shall call at once, I shall call her.”

Frau Angyal disappeared behind the curtain of plastic strips, Adam was left sitting there with the roll of fabric. He hesitated to lay it down beside him.

“Whose baby is that?” Simone asked.

“Good morning,” Adam said and pressed the roll to his chest so that Simone could squeeze past him to her spot. “Hope you enjoy your breakfast.”

“I’m not in the mood for enjoyment,” she said.

“Bonjour,” Michael said without looking at Adam. He, along with Evelyn, sat down across from them.

“And a good morning to you, lady and gent.” Adam took the fabric back into the house, as if to bring it to safety. He rapped at a half-open door, behind which Frau Angyal was talking excitedly. She waved him in, he bowed with the fabric, like a peddler presenting his wares. Frau Angyal pointed to the table. He laid the roll next to an empty crystal vase on the crocheted tablecloth.

“Tomorrow morning?” Frau Angyal asked, covered the speaker with her hand, and whispered, “She is very, very happy, Herr Adam.”

The threesome outside sat across from one another in silence.

“You waiting for me? Dig in, dig in,” Adam said. “Or have you all got upset tummies?”

“You might put it that way,” Simone said. “Do you two want to, or shall I?”

“Can’t we discuss this again a little later?” Evelyn asked.

“Later? Sure, for all I care. I already know what’s up.”

“It’s not that simple, Mona.”

“Oh, but it’s very simple. Where’s this from? Czech jam? And mustard? For breakfast?”

Adam sat down and dunked his half-eaten
hörnchen
in his cup.

“He still finds all this very yummy, our Herr Adam does,” Simone said.

“Let’s not make a big tragedy out of this!”

“It was a simple statement of fact, nothing more.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mona,” Michael said, “you’re acting utterly ridiculous.”

“They evidently don’t want to tell you themselves, Adam. It’s going to take a while, I probably won’t be here to lend an ear.” She poured herself some coffee. Then Michael poured coffee for himself and Evelyn.

“Want some too?” he asked, holding the pitcher out to Adam.

“Beg pardon, beg pardon,” Frau Angyal cried as she hurried from the house. With her forearm she tested to see if the pitcher of milk was still warm, picked up the whisk, pressed the pitcher to her breast, and began beating the milk. “I am very happy, Herr Adam,” she managed to say without missing a beat. “Very happy!”

“Well at least someone is,” Simone sighed. “Can you take me to the train, Adam? I don’t want to disturb the lucky couple.”

“When?” Adam asked.

He received no answer, and appeared to expect none. Like the others he was staring straight ahead, chewing slowly, listening to the beat of the whisk and Frau Angyal’s moans.

“PEPI, AND HERR ADAM
, come!” Frau Angyal’s voice reverberated from the hallway. “Herr Adam, Pepi!”

“Good morning, lady and gent.”

Michael nodded, went on chewing. “Hi,” Evelyn said.

Frau Angyal’s arms preceded her through the colorful plastic strips in the open doorway. “Good morning! When did you come in, Herr Adam? We didn’t hear you.”

“Around midnight, maybe? What time is it now?”

“Ten oh three,” Michael said.

“Pepi!” Frau Angyal hurried back into the house.

“So how did it go?”

“She left on the Saxonia, at 16:25. She’s getting off in Leipzig as we speak. The whole train was reserved, down to the last seat. But there was hardly anybody on it, she had an entire compartment to herself.”

“Did she have anything else to say?”

Adam rubbed his eyes with thumb and index finger and suppressed a yawn. “Nothing I’m supposed to pass on, at least.”

“Was she still—we were hoping you’d bring her back with you.”

“That suggestion comes a little late,” Adam said and turned around. Someone was thundering down the stairs.

“There she is,” Evelyn said as Pepi emerged through the plastic
strips. Adam walked over to greet her, they exchanged kisses on the cheek.

“Prettier and prettier,” he said.

“How wonderful that you’re both here,” Pepi said.

“Yes,” Adam said softly, “I’m happy to be here too.”

“I think,” Evelyn said, “that suit looks better on her now than last year. Can that be?”

Adam looked at Pepi, who obviously didn’t know what to do or say.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.

Pepi nodded. “But may I join you?”

“Certainly not,” Adam said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the table.

“I’ll fetch another cup,” Pepi said.

“There’s one here,” Michael exclaimed. “I’ve already poured the coffee.”

Pepi sat down beside Adam.

“I’m so embarrassed that my mother has incommoded you with Magda László—now, on your vacation, it’s outrageous, really it—”

“No it’s not, not at all!”

“You have no choice but to say that, you’re too polite—”

“No,” Adam said with his mouth full. “Just the opposite. For me it’s fun.”

Pepi shook her head.

“Believe him, Pepi. Adam doesn’t know how to take a real vacation. If he doesn’t have work to do, he’s an unhappy man, you saw that yourself.”

“But here? It shouldn’t be like that here. Do you still smoke cigars?”

“Sure.”

“I finally had to send it to the cleaners. Now it no longer smells like you, like your house. How about an egg, Adam? Fresh from the coop, four and a half minutes? I haven’t forgotten, four and a half. And there’s pastry, Mama’s been baking. She’s even playing hooky from
church on your account.” Pepi picked up the empty milk pitcher and went into the house.

“Pastry too? You don’t say,” Michael said and held up the coffeepot.

“Thanks,” Adam said. “Is there still milk?”

“I think it’s being worked on.” Evelyn pushed the sugar bowl his way. “You shouldn’t believe everything Mona says.”

“What shouldn’t I believe?”

“That doesn’t matter. Main thing is, she doesn’t carry on at home the way she did here.”

“Not to worry.”

“Did she say that?”

“At any rate it has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing to do with me? That’s not how it sounded.”

“Can’t you find some other topic of conversation?” Michael said as he buttered his
hörnchen
. “She’s gone, thank God! I’ve had enough of her bitching and moaning.”

“Mona was setting her hopes too high. She said that herself at least.”

“Really?” Evelyn asked.

“You’re asking me? You should know, I’d think. But that Michael—I mean, that you were intending to marry her … I knew that much myself.”

“Really, Adam, you don’t need to—”

“He’s right,” Michael said. “That much I promised her. I promised to be her marriage ticket out. But if she’s going to blow that up into a lot of other demands, telling me what I can and can’t do, and even threatens to turn me in—that’s way over the top, it’s a no-go.”

“Did she?” Adam asked. “Did she threaten you?”

“Eve—Evelyn was there too.” Michael lit a cigarette.

“Your new girlfriend evidently didn’t tell you about that. And that’s why I was hoping that you’d both come back. She’s capable of anything. Even Frau Gabriel is afraid of Mona—just think of that, the boss afraid of a waitress.”

Adam topped a piece of white bread with salami and a slice of cheese.

“Anyhow I’m glad Heinrich kept up his end. I can always depend on him.”

“Heinrich?”

“Adam’s Wartburg. He kept the name his father gave it.”

“You call your car Heinrich?”

“Why the big grin?”

“Learn something new every day.”

“You guys buy a new model every couple of years, and the old one gets junked. For us it’s a member of the family.”

“Mine’s got three hundred thousand on it, and I—”

“Three hundred thousand kilometers?”

“That’s what I said.” Michael flicked his ashes into the eggshell on his plate.

“Well then it’s earned a name too. How about Gabriela, that’d be a good fit, Gabriela the redhead? We once had an Isabella, our first Trabi, gray with a gray roof liner, you’d probably call it more of an ivory.”

“Jó napot!” A woman was standing at the head of the table, a lady with a small picture hat and shiny bright red lips. Her houndstooth suit was too tight on her.

She asked something in Hungarian. As she said the name “Erzsi” and pointed toward the open door, a pile of magazines slipped out from under her arm and fell to the flagstones.

“Quite an entrance,” Adam said and jumped up to help her.

“Köszönöm, köszönöm szépen,” she wailed, half laughing, half in distress, and didn’t stop until all the magazines had been picked up and Pepi and Frau Angyal had greeted her. “Köszönöm.”

“This is Magda,” Pepi said. “Our friend.”

Magda extended a hand to each of them, they made room for her to sit down, Frau Angyal brought her a cup too. Pepi set the egg cup,
egg included, on the table. Still in charge of the magazines, Adam had remained on his feet and was now paging through the top one, glancing back and forth at Magda. In adjusting her hat, she had let it slip too far to the right, which lent her a bold and sassy look.

Michael picked up the coffeepot, filled her cup, blew out the tea candle on the warmer, and lifted the lid of the sugar bowl.

Magda beamed at Michael and said something to Pepi. “Frau László says that she’s very happy that you are here.”

“Goes for me too. Such a marvelous place to be!” He smiled at Evelyn.

Pepi translated. Then they all fell silent, until Magda leaned toward Pepi again and whispered in her ear. The longer she whispered the worse her giggles got. Whereas Pepi, who had also leaned toward her at first, was now sitting up ramrod straight, staring earnestly ahead. Magda ended her whisperings with gurgling laughter.

“Frau László says that she’s heard a lot about you,” Pepi said.

“Well hopefully just the good stuff,” Michael exclaimed, and laughed along with Frau László. “Hopefully just the good stuff,” he repeated, but cast Pepi a questioning glance, since she didn’t seem about to translate his reply.

“Frau László thinks,” Pepi said—raising her eyes as if searching the heavens—“she thinks that you are the person who is going to sew her dress.”

“AH, MAGDA IS HAPPY
. I don’t need to translate, just take a look at Magda!”