Adam and Evelyn (26 page)

“Didn’t Gisela say anything?”

“No. She was a little snippy somehow, a little funny somehow.”

“Enough with the ‘somehow,’ ‘somehow’ is awful.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing, I was designing it like I always do—the right way, the better way.”

“Designing what?”

“Her friend Gaby wanted two bows or ribbons, on the left and right, incredible, like a fat bumblebee with tiny wings.”

“And you told her that?”

“It was beyond belief, I thought she was joking.”

Evelyn grasped the edge of the bed with both hands.

“I just told her I wouldn’t do it, that I wasn’t in the gewgaw business.”

Evelyn took a deep breath. “But if that’s what she wanted?”

“She can sew it herself, what does she need me for. Either I sew it or I don’t sew it. And if I do the tailoring, I don’t tailor crap like that. It’s that simple.”

“Oh, Adam—”

“It’s how I’ve always done it and it worked out very well—for my clients too.”

Evelyn reached for a pair of socks, turned them right side out, and coiled them in a ball. Suddenly she gasped, Adam sat frozen in place too. The front door slammed shut downstairs.

“Was that both of them?” Evelyn whispered.

“Don’t think so, just Gisela. He always locks it.”

“You should’ve done it for her sake, for Gisela’s. She’s been so proud of you. You should’ve sewn it, she would’ve had to see what you saw, and would’ve understood—”

“Two missing,” Adam said.

“Two?”

“Two different socks are left over.”

“Just like always.”

“You mean I’ve always worn them like this?”

“You’ve only noticed just now because you’re holding them side by side.”

“Goes against my principles.”

“Then toss them out,” Evelyn said and stood up.

“And you’re sure there aren’t two others somewhere?”

“Somewhere, yes. But not here.” Evelyn disappeared into the little bathroom next door.

When she returned, Adam was sitting on the bed. The bag of socks had been put away. But two were now hanging on the radiator as if they weren’t quite dry.

“SO, AND NOW
we’ll let that cook for seven minutes.”

“I know China exists on the map, but that’s about it.”

“And?”

“And now I find out it’s a science unto itself.”

“Everything’s a science.”

“
China and the Search for Happiness
—you’re reading this?”

“The author’s one of our lecturers.”

“I don’t know one word of Chinese.”

“I’m just a beginner myself. It’s right next to the main building. And in two years we’re off to China or Taiwan for a year.”

“Sinology isn’t exactly a fit with art history.”

“It just came to me because you said maybe something with languages, and I thought we could attend lectures together.”

“All those symbols—way too much for me.”

“You have to memorize and cram for everything.”

“All the same.”

“We can get together on Wednesdays or for breakfast. Maybe you’ll find a place close by.”

“With hardwood floors and ornamental plaster? This kitchen would be all I need. I’ve never seen a kitchen as huge as this. Will the other two be joining us?”

“Michaela is in classes, and Gabriela is off taking driver’s training,
not exactly her strong point. Do you two need more than one room?”

“It’d be nice.”

“I still can’t believe Adam came with you. He must really love you.”

“You’ve said that.”

“I figured he was hopeless, a hopeless case. What’s the matter?”

“You’re looking so good.”

“Oh, Evi, you’re sweet.”

“Has nothing to do with sweet.”

“What do you expect me to say? You just have to look in the mirror.”

“That’s not how I meant it. Just look at you. I would never believe that you’ve been here only a couple of weeks. It’s as if you belong here, are at home here. And then when you look at Adam, he’s just spinning his wheels, and he hardly eats anything.”

“And you?”

“I’m somewhere in the middle, between you and him.”

“So not a hopeless case?” Katja laughed. “Evi, come on, it was just a joke.”

“But I’m not joking.”

“You worry too much.”

“If I had your clan to back me up, I wouldn’t have any worries either.”

“My clan invites me to dinner once in a while, and Uncle Klaus helped me get this room here—but in fact I don’t want them to do anything for me.”

“That’s just what I mean, though, without them you wouldn’t have got this.”

“But in exchange I’m supposed to teach them both Russian—and I’ve forgotten everything I knew. But I said yes, I’d give it a try.”

“You see, and I would have said no. That’s the difference. You have relatives here, a real family, and that’s fantastic.”

“And you’ve got Adam and a honeymoon in the West.”

“If you can call that a honeymoon.”

“Well, Lake Sims isn’t so bad. So when are you getting married?”

Evelyn shrugged.

“But you told me you two were happy there.”

“Win some, lose some.”

Katja scowled.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said. “I can only think in clichés—‘no pain, no gain’ and all the rest of it. I know myself how awful it sounds.”

“I came close to falling in love with Adam.”

“I noticed.”

“When?”

“When I saw you wearing my sun hat there at the campgrounds. You were waiting for us, and I thought that might be the case. Did you two ever do it?”

“No.”

“Can’t say I’m convinced.”

“I said I almost fell in love with him, so I can’t say that there wasn’t anything. But he couldn’t have cared less.”

“There have been times when I wished he was dead.”

“Dead?”

“Haven’t you ever wished somebody would just vanish from the face of the earth? That you were rid of him, that you no longer needed to think about him?”

“Nope.”

“He sits there in front of the television the whole day, playing with your cube, and if he’s not doing that, he’s lying on his stomach beside Elfriede and watching her. And Uncle Eberhard tells him five times a day that the ones who are standing up and fighting over there now are heroes. Those are the heroes, not the ones who cut and run.”

“I thought he was a cutter-and-runner himself.”

“He was in prison, in Bautzen, for almost a year. As he sees it we fled only for economic reasons, and now it’s time to fight, not just sit around on our butts here. And when you get down to it, Adam thinks the same way.”

“Oh, baloney. It won’t amount to anything. In a couple of weeks everything will be just like before. Whether it’s Krenz or Honecker doesn’t matter one bit.”

“That’s what I say too. But Adam keeps on babbling about zero hour, and how he’s going to miss his zero hour.”

“What zero hour? If anybody’s accomplished something, then it’s us. Without us there’d be nothing going on over there now.” Katja stirred the spaghetti. “Wait till he’s found a job.”

“Nobody here needs a custom tailor, they buy everything off the rack. Even Gisela doesn’t want him to make her anything, not even for free, as a kind of rent. I don’t understand it either, why women here don’t want clothes that really fit, fit like they should. Adam says they don’t have any sense of what custom tailoring means anymore. And he’s had no responses to his job applications.”

“But they’re looking for people all over the place. They were even handing out flyers in the camps. They’re looking for skilled workers.”

“But not for ladies’ custom tailors.”

“Sure they are, they’re looking for them too.”

“You should have known him before. He practically never took a vacation. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t just do nothing.”

“And so?”

“In his mind it wasn’t actual work.”

“You mean, more like an artist?”

“His women came to him, and he made them look beautiful. And once they were beautiful, he screwed them.”

“Isn’t that more of a rumor?”

“I caught him in the act. But we’ve covered this topic before.”

“You think what he misses is his women?”

“If only that was it. We argue constantly, but he’s as needy as a lap-dog. I look at other men and ask myself why it is that I’m with Adam. I think I could get along with almost any man who’s halfway decent to me.”

“It’d be great if it were that easy.”

“I ask myself, Why Adam, of all people?”

“Oh come on, Evi. Do you feel like you’re too good for him?”

“Nonsense. That’s not what I mean. And what’s with Marek?”

“We’ll have to wait and see. I don’t have the faintest idea where that’s going. You want a plate or a shallow bowl?”

Evelyn nodded.

“Well which, plate or bowl?”

“Doesn’t matter. Some men have a way of talking and gesturing, they’re sort of jaunty, they’re so wide awake. I like the wide-awake types. You can see it just in the way they walk. I only have to see how a guy walks and I already know everything, or almost everything.”

“A little luck helps too.”

“And have you had good luck?”

“Have I ever! First Adam, then the both of you. Michael lent me some money, for what they call probation here.”

“What? You were in prison?”

“In prison?”

“Well, you said ‘probation.’ ”

“No, no, it’s the security deposit you pay the landlord. Three months’ rent up front. In case something needs to be repaired afterward.”

“Three months’ rent? Are they nuts?”

“Oh, you’ll manage that somehow. And if worse comes to worst, you ask Michael. Adam doesn’t need to know.”

“Adam believes Michael is an intelligence officer, or something like it. He says he saw him in Trostberg.”

“What do you mean, an officer? I stayed with him at his place.”

“Before the camp?”

“He knew somebody there, who arranged things so that I didn’t need to go to the camp. Other than to go and fill out forms. Give me that gorgonzola there.”

“The whole piece?”

“Yes.” She put the cheese in the pan. “On the drive across all Michael could talk about was you. He kept coming back to it.”

“Was he angry?”

“He just couldn’t fathom it. I told him, turn around, but he was too stubborn.”

“If only he’d given me a little more time.”

“Any regrets?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, Evi. Are those tears?” Katja took the pot off the stove and drained the spaghetti. “What’s wrong? Are you sorry?”

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Oh dear, well out with it. What’s up? … Come on, tell me.”

“I’m going to have a baby.”

“Holy cow, Evi!” Still holding the colander in both hands, Katja stared at her.

“I know, what a stupid thing to do.”

“I never would have guessed. Is it Michael’s?”

“I don’t know, maybe, or maybe not.”

“Can’t you determine that?”

“And how do I do that?”

“And Adam?”

“Might be.”

“Does he know?”

“No.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I don’t know. Do you deal with that here pretty much like with us?”

“Not a clue. But I think so. You’ll come up with something—no matter what.”

Katja poured the spaghetti into the pan with the gorgonzola. Then she walked around the table and gave Evelyn a hug.

“I know that perfume,” Evelyn said, “I had some once too.”

“From Michael?”

“Hm.”

“So does that disappoint you?”

“You too, I would think.”

“Oh, please, he was just trying his best. And you should tell Adam, maybe that will wake him up. He’s always wanted a child. Sorry, I’ve got to stir.” Katja walked back to the stove. “Can you hand me that pear? I’ll admit, it knocks me for a loop. I thought, here comes some stuff about the Stasi or whatever.”

“No, and thanks a lot.”

“Well when you lead into it that way. Who would think it would be a baby?”

“It’s just that when you have no one you can talk with, it just sort of blurts out.”

“I’m the same way.”

“Is that ready yet?” Evelyn pointed to the pan.

“First hand me that pear. Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Come on,” Katja said, “at least give it a try. Or how about the pear, a piece of pear at least?”

“Yes, a small one.”

Katja turned off the gas, and while she was quartering the pear, Evelyn pulled a little package from her purse.

“Here, for you,” she said.

Katja looked at her, hesitated, then took the present out of Evelyn’s hand, ripped the cellophane tape off, and unfolded the paper napkin.

“What—for me?”

“I have one like it.” Evelyn raised her right hand with its ruby red ring.

“Evi—”

“We’re such friends, almost sisters, aren’t we?” Evelyn took the ring from her. “Where do you want it, right or left?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You see, perfect fit.”

“You’re crazy, absolutely crazy,” Katja said. Then they sat down across from each other at the table and ate the pear.

AT THE EICHENAU
S-Bahn stop, Evelyn got off the last car and walked toward the exit. Suddenly someone grabbed her hand, she whirled around.

“Adam! Has something happened?”

“You said you’d be back around noon.”

“I said I didn’t know when I’d be back. Your hand’s like ice!”

Evelyn pulled the scarf from her neck and tied it under Adam’s chin.

“I wanted to invite you to lunch,” Adam said. “Did you eat already?”

“We had a late breakfast.”

“Took longer than you expected.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

“When I’m out of the house, yes. I saw the doctor. I’m now officially certified as ill.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, just the usual ‘emigration syndrome,’ ‘adaptation problems.’ They recognize it as an illness. He told me I’ll even get a little extra money.” Adam tried to take Evelyn’s hand. “I’m not doing anything awful, I’ve never played sick before. This is the first time. It doesn’t change anything, except a little more money. Why shouldn’t I have done it? In some way it’s actually the truth. And you, how did it go?”