Over the Fence (11 page)

After clearing the table, Eva put the remaining salad in Tupperware. She turned the container back and forth. What if she packed the chocolate bars in a square box with a top that tapered up to a point? She thought about this idea as she stored the leftovers in the fridge, wiped the table, and spread out her designs again. Although it was early afternoon, she had to turn on the light. The storm had darkened the sky as if it were the middle of night.

Accompanied by her father’s snoring, Eva created a box first, but it looked unusable with a tapered top. Would a circular-shaped container—a cylindrical design, maybe—be the solution?

When her father spoke, she jumped and realized that the thunderstorm had ended while she’d been so focused on her work. Meanwhile, the packaging before her looked decent. It was about two inches in diameter and three inches tall before it tapered to a point. The taper would be brown, like the summit of a chocolate mountain.

“What did you say?” Eva asked.

“The TV isn’t working,” her father repeated. “I mean, it’s working, but the picture is all fuzzy.”

They went into the living room together. “Why don’t you call the repairman?” she suggested. She went to the hallway and brought him back the phone. “He’ll fix it.”

TV was of no interest to her right now. She booted up her Mac and opened her graphics program, concentrating on replicating the box’s design.

“The repairman’s coming tomorrow,” her father shouted from the living room.

“That’s great!” she yelled back and continued her work.

“This is crap,” her father said.

“Papa, not now. I’m working!”

She used the tools in her graphic design program to make it look as if chocolate was overflowing from the top and running down onto the rest of the packaging. Then she wrote
The Peak of Enjoyment
in a sweeping font colored in a rich golden hue, which gave the packaging a sophisticated touch. She’d already completed the layout for the long rectangular chocolate-bar packaging the day before. She’d decided to keep one end tapered, based on the tractor treads she’d seen on Saturday.

Fifteen minutes later, she had uploaded her designs to the company’s network. With a satisfied sigh, she sat back in her chair. There wasn’t much more she could do today. Even though she had no name for the product, she had a slogan that was appropriate for both the rectangular design ending in a taper and the circular design with the tapered top.

It was twilight by the time Eva closed her Mac. Her father lounged around, his legs propped up on the sofa. He looked grumpy as he stared out the window.

“Come on, Papa, is it such a tragedy to go without TV for one lousy day?” Eva asked as she sat down across from him.

He just grunted in response.

“You really should get a hobby, because staring at the TV all day is a waste of time.”

“My broken leg is a waste of time; otherwise, I would have gotten up on the roof and fixed the satellite dish already. The wind must have moved it.” Her father looked at her. “Can’t you try to do something?”

“You want me to climb up on the roof?”

“You’re acting like I just asked you to climb Mount Everest,” her father said. “The ladder is light. Even a child could carry it. You turn the satellite dish, and I’ll open a window and shout when the picture is back.”

It didn’t really sound too difficult. At least her father would leave her in peace, even if she wasn’t able to fix it. “All right. You win. Let me go put on some shoes.”

“That’s my girl!” Using his crutches, he went out to the terrace and waited for her.

Eva trudged to the back of the garage and lifted up the ladder. It really was light. With very little effort, she took it off its hooks and placed it on her shoulder. She carried it to the other side of the house, where the satellite dish was mounted.

“Now just lean it against the house. And make sure it’s set firmly on the ground. Better set it so that the terrace tiles prevent it from slipping,” her father instructed.

“I may be a woman, but I’m not stupid, Papa,” she grumbled and set the ladder as he’d advised her to.

“Now you need to shove the extension up until it’s locked in.” He nodded at her.

Eva pushed up the extension until it clicked. It really wasn’t that hard. “Go inside the house now and tell me when something changes on the screen. Or do you want to climb on the roof yourself?” she teased.

Eva waited until her father shouted from the living room that he was ready. She had hardly stepped up five rungs when she heard David’s voice behind her. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“What?” she asked, turning toward him.

“You are not climbing up on that roof!”

“The satellite dish got moved,” Eva explained as she stepped up another rung.

David put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Why didn’t you call me? I already offered to help whenever you needed it.”

Eva’s competitive nature ignited. “Maybe it’s because I didn’t need your help.”

“Are you on the roof yet?” her father shouted from the living room.

David hopped over the fence and yelled back into the house. “No, she’s not on the roof, and she’s not going to get on the roof. It’s too dangerous. The roof is still wet. Please come down and let me do it.”

Eva climbed up the ladder until she was able to put her hands on the roof. It really was wet and slick. After she realized how slippery it was, she lost her courage.

“Come on now. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody,” David said.

“All right. I don’t want you to think I’m being unreasonable,” Eva said as she climbed down the ladder.

“I never said that,” David responded with a crooked smile.

David held the ladder, and when she was halfway down the last few rungs, he put his hands around her waist, lifted her up, and parked her safely on the ground. Eva’s body tingled all over. The words she had wanted to say got stuck in her throat. Only a faint murmur escaped her lips. She turned and looked up at him and that fluttery feeling intensified. David looked directly in her eyes. Their faces were only inches apart. He was definitely too close for comfort. She cleared her throat and whispered, “You can let me go now.”

David hesitated for a moment before taking a step back. “Of course,” he said, his voice husky. “Let me change into my work shoes.”

Eva watched as he jumped over the fence and disappeared around the corner of the house. The boxer was in the middle of the yard, but he wasn’t the only one watching the unfolding scene with curiosity. Her father leaned on the door and watched, too.

“You should stay in the living room,” Eva said.

“And you should be on the roof,” countered her father. “Is David coming back to take care of it?”

“Yes. He’s just changing into some other shoes.”

“Great. Then I can assume the TV will be up and running again in five minutes.” Her father turned around, but before he went back in, he said, “David is a nice guy. Invite him in for a beer afterward. Understand?” he said. “As a thanks for his help.”

Since when was her father a stickler for polite social conventions? Eva stared at him as he went back into the house.

David’s work shoes turned out to be chunky work boots. Compared to Eva’s sneakers, his shoes really did seem to have more grip.

David stepped onto the ladder, then climbed up on the roof. “The wind knocked over the receiver in the satellite dish. I’ll straighten it out,” he called down.

“Papa, is the picture better?” Eva shouted into the house.

“The picture’s back again!”

Eva ran into the living room. The picture was nice and sharp. “Looks good.”

“I knew it wouldn’t be a big deal to fix it,” her father said as he leaned back onto the sofa. “And don’t forget to invite him in. OK?”

Eva barely heard the last sentence as she hurried back to David. “The picture is fantastic. Thank you, David.”

“Great.” He climbed down the ladder with ease. “Anyway, my pleasure. Where does the ladder go?”

“Behind the garage.” Eva pointed to the other side of the house, while David lowered the extension. “But I can put it away.”

“I’ll do it,” David insisted. Now Eva felt silly. Usually she enjoyed it when her male friends took charge of handyman duties, but with David, she seemed to want to prove herself.

Eva walked with David to the back of the garage where he set the ladder in the holding device. He turned to her. “Let me know if you need anything else. With the shoes you were wearing, you could have slipped and fallen.”

After seeing his concerned expression, she gave up. “Fine. But I didn’t think it would be all that difficult.”

“It isn’t, if you have the appropriate footwear. But with those shoes there?” He shook his head.

“My father insists I invite you in for a beer,” Eva began, then realized how stupid that sounded. “And I would love to have you over, too.”

David glanced at his watch. “Why not? Jonas is playing computer games anyway, and I just took Ruchti for a walk. If the invitation is valid for a glass of wine, too, and you give me a little time to change clothes, I would love to come over.”

“Come over when you’re ready.”

“See you soon,” he said and winked as he smiled at her.

Eva walked up the three short steps to her front door and stood for a moment in the doorway. Why the hell was she so excited about him coming over? Her father would be there, and it was nothing more than a harmless visit by a neighbor. David was spoken for. Why couldn’t she get that through her head?

Eva took off her shoes and hurried into the cellar barefoot to look over the selection of wines. There were several bottles of Dornfelder on the shelves. She grabbed a bottle of wine and a beer for her father and went upstairs to the kitchen. “Papa, do you prefer beer or wine?”

“Beer,” he called out.

Eva brought the bottle and a beer mug into the living room. The cat’s dirty paw prints on the velour carpet still needed to be cleaned up. “Did Felix come out from under the sofa yet?”

“He’s been out for a while now,” her father informed her. “Mama would never have let him in the living room as wet as he was. Look at the carpet now.”

Eva sighed. “I know. The little devil was too fast for me.”

“What you mean is that you forgot to close the door to the living room. You’re always leaving that door open,” her father rebuked her. “There’s actually quite a practical invention called a door handle.” He made a twisting motion with his right hand to emphasize his words.

Yes, one of the golden rules in this house was to make sure to close the doors—one of the first rules she abolished when she moved into her own place. All the doors were open. This gave her a sense of space. Closed spaces felt oppressive to her. But she had no pets running through her apartment with wet, dirty paws. If she had, she might have reconsidered her position. Now she would be penalized by having to clean the carpet.

Eva put the beer mug on the table. “Can you turn off the TV, please?”

“After all the trouble we went through to get it working again?” Her father picked up the mug and took a big slug of beer. He wiped the foam from his top lip with the back of his hand. “You two could talk in the dining room, too.”

So much for her father’s attention to polite social conventions. He was going to continue sitting in front of the TV. “Papa, that’s rude. Besides, you’ve seen this
Columbo
episode a hundred times!”

“Not true. I haven’t seen it that many times, and now somebody just got murdered,” he responded, his eyes glued to the screen.

Eva shook her head and went back to the kitchen to uncork the wine bottle. As soon as she’d poured two glasses, the doorbell rang.

David stood before her in stonewashed jeans and a simple, but obviously expensive, white T-shirt. With a broad smile, he handed her a bottle of Merlot.

“You didn’t have to bring anything. The invitation was a thanks for your help.”

“If you don’t want it, I can always take it back.” His eyes twinkled, and Eva saw he was teasing her.

“You can’t take it back. Unless, of course, it’s myrrh. What is myrrh, anyway?” she began.

“It is a valuable balm,” David said. “You like Monty Python, too?”

“I love them.”

“I have all their films at the house. Maybe one day we can have a Monty Python evening,” he suggested.

Eva nodded noncommittally, then led David into the dining room, where the boxes she’d been tinkering with were still out. “Give me five minutes to put all this away.”

David peeked his head into the living room. “Better now?” he asked, indicating the TV.

Eva’s father laughed and nodded. “Even better than before! Thank you for the quick service.”

David came over to the dining room table and stood next to her. “What is all this?”

“Packaging for a chocolate bar,” Eva said and began clearing the train wrecks off the table.

“It is?” He laughed and pointed at one particularly shabby-looking package. “It looks like that one crashed and burned.”

Eva grimaced. “I’m glad my work is such a source of amusement for you.”

“I’m sorry. Do you have other designs?”

Eva thought about whether she should show him her work. An unbiased opinion couldn’t hurt. Besides, David was also a potential buyer. “These were only my initial ideas. I have to develop them from here.”

“I can see that,” David said. “But you have to admit, that one is really . . . interesting.” He pointed to the one that looked like a rocket that had crashed and burned.

Eva picked up the cardboard monstrosity. “OK, even a first grader could do better than this.” She set it back down and handed David one of the wineglasses, then raised hers to him. “Here’s to a little liquid courage,” she said, before taking a sip. “You’re really interested in this?”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“Sit down,” she said and stowed away her first designs in the basket. She left the prototypes for both the long, flat rectangular package ending in a taper and the circular package with a tapered top on the table, opened her Mac, and clicked on the folder.

“All right. The client wants an original package for its chocolate bars. And that’s exactly the problem. The offbeat designs look strange, and all the other practical choices are already on the market.” Eva took another sip of wine. Then she drew the tractor treads on a piece of paper and pointed at it. “The chocolate bars should be laid out like these tractor treads in some type of hard plastic packaging, which would form a rectangular shape that tapered at the top.”