Love Virtually (14 page)

Five minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

Mia says there's just one thing she's noticed which doesn't conform to the image of the Rothner family idyll. Or at least she can't make any sense of it, even though she's talked to you about it a lot.

Fifty seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

And what would that be?

Forty seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

Me.

Thirty seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

You?

Fifteen minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

Yes, me, us, Emmi. Mia can't understand why you write to me, the way you write to me, what you write to me, and how often you write to me, etc. She can't understand why you find contact with me so important. She says, “There's nothing missing from Emmi's life, absolutely nothing. If she's got problems she knows she can come to me or talk to one of her other girlfriends. If she's looking for an ego boost, all she has to do is to stroll through the pedestrian zone. If she wants to flirt, she could give out numbered tickets in the street and call up the men one after the other. She doesn't need some time-consuming, energy-zapping, ever-intense email correspondent.” The point is, Emmi, Mia doesn't know why you need me, or what I'm good for.

Two minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

And don't you know either, Leo?

Nine minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

Yes, I think I do. I take you at your word. I've tried to explain to Mia that I'm a sort of “outpost” for Emmi, a minor distraction from her family life. I'm somebody who appreciates and likes her for who she is, without her having to be around. All she has to do is write, nothing more. She says, “Emmi doesn't need a distraction. She'd never make an effort for a ‘distraction.' If Emmi makes an effort she ‘wants' something. And when Emmi wants something, she doesn't just want a lot of it. If Emmi wants something, she wants it all.”

Three minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

Maybe Mia doesn't know me so well after all. What do you think she means by “it all.” We haven't eaten spaghetti al pesto together. I haven't even turned my head to generate a gust of air that you could feel, my dear Leo. Quite clearly my friend Mia is ahead of me by a stretch on that front. I'd really rather not know how much closer she is to having “it all” than I am.

One minute later

Re: Not a word about sex

I'm delighted that you don't want to know, just for a change.

Fifty seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

So how close did she get to having “it all,” then?

Two minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

It depends on what you mean by “it all.”

Fifty-five seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

You see, Leo, that's the kind of splendid answer that justifies the effort of all my emails. You're welcome to pass that on to my friend Mia. When are you seeing her next? Today?

Three minutes later

Re: Not a word about sex

No, this evening I've been invited to dinner by some colleagues. I should be getting ready soon. Have a nice evening, Emmi.

Forty-five seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

Aren't you taking Mia with you? She's obviously not that close to having “it all” with you, then.

One minute later

Re: Not a word about sex

No, not so close, Emmi, if that makes you feel any better.

Forty seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

It certainly does!

Fifty seconds later

Re: Not a word about sex

Emmi. Emmi. Emmi.

The following day

Subject: Mia

Hi Leo,

I'm meeting up with Mia tomorrow!

All the best,

Emmi

Ten minutes later

Re: Mia

Hi Emmi.

That's nice for you, and nice for Mia too.

All the best to you,

Leo

Fifty seconds later

Re: Mia

Is that all you've got to say?

Twenty minutes later

Re: Mia

What did you imagine, Emmi? Should I have panicked? It's not parents' night, Emmi. I haven't been cutting school. Mia's not my teacher, and you're not my mother. So I've got nothing to be worried about.

Three minutes later

Re: Mia

Leo, if you and Mia are, you know . . . then I'd rather hear it from you today than find out from Mia tomorrow. So will you please tell me?

Four minutes later

Re: Mia

Am I sleeping with Mia? If I am, Mia might not want you to know.

A minute and a half later

Re: Mia

YOU'RE the one who doesn't want me to know. Well, tough, Leo, I know already! Judging by the way you write, you must be sleeping with her.

Thirteen minutes later

Re: Mia

Would that be so awful for you? Would that turn your entire “other world” upside down? Or is it just that old childhood thing: if I can't have it, my best friend won't have it either?

Four minutes later

Re: Mia

I think you're being a bit immature about all this, Leo. Let's just leave it.

Have a pleasant day.

Read you soon,

Emmi

Ten minutes later

Re: Mia

And you used to be more cheerful, my dear. Yes, read you soon, no doubt.

The following day

Subject: Mia

Hi Leo, I met up with Mia!

Half an hour later

Re: Mia

I know, Emmi. You said you were going to.

Two minutes later

Re: Mia

Don't you want to know how it went?

Four minutes later

Re: Mia

Good question. There are two possible answers. Either 1) Mia will tell me. Or 2) You, Emmi, are going to tell me about it now, anyway. I choose 2.

One minute later

Re: Mia

Close, but the wrong answer. Ask Mia how it went. Have a nice afternoon!

Seven hours later

Re: Mia

Good night, Emmi. That was a pretty poor performance today.

The next day

Subject: Emmi?

My dear email partner, have I offended you? Would you mind telling me how? Did Mia tell you something you didn't want to hear?

Two and a half hours later

Re: Emmi?

You know exactly what Mia told me, Leo, and you know exactly what she DIDN'T tell me. “Yes, he's sweet,” she said. “Yes, we get along well. Yes, we see each other quite a bit. Yes, sometimes it gets pretty late (smirk, giggle). Yes, he's all right (stupid grin). Yes, he's the kind of man (sigh) you could imagine (swoon) . . . But Emmi, so what if we're sleeping together? . . . Oh Emmi, why do you always have to talk about sex?” etc., etc.

My dear Leo, that's not what she's like. The Mia I know can talk about sex for hours on end! She describes every muscle that's exerted or involved in any way, even if it's just for watching (or listening). As a sports scientist, Mia can divide up one single, five-second orgasm into seven separate working stages, complete with tables of calories burned etc., each one requiring an hour-long presentation. That's Mia! And do you know what completely isn't Mia?—“Oh Emmi, why do you always have to talk about sex!” That's not Mia at all, not a bit. That's 100 percent Leo Leike. What have you done to Mia? And why? Just to annoy me?

Thirteen minutes later

Re: Emmi?

Didn't Mia ask you why you're so interested in whether I'm having sex with her? Didn't she tell you that she never asks how often you sleep with your Bernhard? (O.K., I'll take back the “your.”) Did Mia not ask you what you actually want from me? Well, didn't she? And what did you tell her?

Fifty seconds later

Re: Emmi?

That I want emails from him! (But not ones like that.)

A minute and a half later

Re: Emmi?

You can't always pick and choose.

Three minutes later

Re: Emmi?

I don't want to have to pick and choose. I want them all to be lovely. You used to write me such lovely emails, Leo. But since you've been sleeping with Mia, all you do is beat around the bush. Fine, it's all my fault, I shouldn't have introduced you to her. My mistake.

Eight minutes later

Re: Emmi?

Dear Emmi, I promise you'll get another nice email from me, Mia or no Mia. But I can't manage one today. I'm going to the theater (no, not with Mia, but with my sister and a few friends).

Have a nice evening. And say hi to your piano.

Leo

Five hours later

Subject: (no subject)

Are you back yet? I can't sleep. By the way, have I ever told you about the north wind? I can't stand it when the north wind blows through my window. It'd be nice if you'd drop me a line. You could say, “Why don't you just close your window then?” And then I could reply: “Because I can't sleep with the window closed.”

Five minutes later

Re:

Do you sleep with your head by the window?

Fifty seconds later

Re:

LEO!!!! Yes, I sleep with my head right by the window.

Forty-five seconds later

Re:

What about turning 180 degrees and sleeping with your toes by the window?

Fifty seconds later

Re:

That wouldn't work. I wouldn't have my bedside table and reading light.

One minute later

Re:

But you don't need a light to sleep.

Thirty seconds later

Re:

No, but to read.

One minute later

Re:

So read, and then turn around and sleep with your toes by the window.

Forty seconds later

Re:

If I turned around I'd be wide awake again, and then I'd have to read a bit more to get to sleep. But I wouldn't have my little bedside table with the reading light.

Thirty seconds later

Re:

I've got it! Just put it at the other end of the bed.

Thirty-five seconds later

Re:

Wouldn't work, the cord is too short.

Forty seconds later

Re:

Shame. I've got an extension cord here.

Twenty-five seconds later

Re:

Send it over!

Forty-five seconds later

Re:

O.K., I'll send it as a Word file.

Fifty seconds later

Re:

Got it, thanks. What a great extension, really long! I'll just plug it in.

Forty seconds later

Re:

Be careful you don't trip over it in the night.

Thirty-five seconds later

Re:

Ah, now I'm going to sleep really soundly, thanks to you and your extension.

One minute later

Re:

Now the north wind can blow as hard as it likes.

Forty-five seconds later

Re:

I really, really like you, Leo. You're brilliant against the north wind!

Thirty seconds later

Re:

I like you a lot too, Emmi. Good night.

Twenty-five seconds later

Re:

Night-night. Sweet dreams.

The following evening

Subject: (no subject)

Good evening, Emmi. Were you waiting for me to write first?

Five minutes later

Re:

I usually wait for you to write first, Leo, but mostly in vain.

This time I held out. Are you well?

Three minutes later

Re:

Yes, I'm fine. I've spoken to Mia. And we've decided to tell you everything about us, if you still want to know.

Eight minutes later

Re:

Only when I know will I know whether I want to know. But given that you're being so formal about it, it's highly probable that when I know, I'll know I didn't really want to know after all. If it's some love story involving a pregnancy, a trip to Venice and a wedding date, it would be better if you spared me. I've already had a fight with a client today. And I've got my period.

Four minutes later

Re:

No, it's not a love story. It never was. I'm amazed you ever thought it might be. To start off with you were pretty confident about your arrangement. “Your arrangement”— that's the point. Would you like me to go into details?

Six minutes later

Re:

That's not fair, Leo! I wasn't confident about any arrangement. There was no “arrangement.” I didn't even consider what might happen if you came into contact with my friend. I was just curious to know what she would talk about—and what you would say, Leo. It was only when you told me, or rather DIDN'T tell me, that I realized how little I liked what you talked about, or rather DIDN'T talk about, you and Mia. But go ahead, tell me more. You've already written the most important sentence anyway. (The first one.) Not much can happen now.

An hour and a half later

Re:

Mia and I met for the first time that Sunday afternoon in the café. We knew at once why we were sitting there—not because of us, but because of you. There was no chance of us getting closer, let alone falling in love with each other. We were anything but “meant for each other,” quite the opposite in fact. We felt like your puppets from the outset, like pawns that you, dear Emmi, had just put in play. But we didn't understand the “game.” And we still can't understand it now. Emmi. You know that Mia thinks the world of you, admires you, even envies you; is that supposed to make me more interested in you? If so, then why? Do I need to know how perfect and idyllic your family life is? Why? What has that got to do with our emails? Does it stop the north wind from blowing through your window? Does it stop you from getting to sleep?

And Mia. She feels she doesn't know where she stands with you anymore. One thing was clear to her from the beginning: I was taboo for her. I had a sign around my neck saying, “This belongs to Emmi! Do not touch!” Mia felt that all she could do was listen to me. She was expected to give you a detailed description of me, she was supposed to bring you the other side of me, the physical side you don't know, to give you a complete picture.