16. Berlin #2
Lucy wasn’t really surprised to hear that, given Herr Whatever’s mention of Adam and his bad character. But Adam was coming across like a decent enough guy so far. “That’s not very nice,” Lucy said. She found an etched vase in a cabinet and filled it with water.
“It’s not her fault,” he said. “Otto’s not all that friendly, and Greta has been really wrapped up in her job. You know she’s a big-deal art collector?”
“I didn’t, but that makes perfect sense. Do you want coffee?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Lucy got another gold-rimmed cup and saucer out. “Can I ask,” she said, “how important is it to speak German here?”
He was leaning in to look at a still life on the dining room wall beside the silk curtains. “Don’t bother. Pretty much everyone speaks English.”
Maybe Jack was right and they didn’t need to bother, but Lucy thought it would be a missed opportunity for them all.
“Why?” he said. “Do you speak German?”
“I thought I did,” said Lucy glumly, “but I couldn’t even understand the woman at the grocery store yesterday.”
Adam came into the kitchen, and she offered him milk and sugar.
“I can’t get myself to take lessons,” he said, “but I probably should. I’m having a hard time fitting in here.
I think it’s because I tend to blurt out whatever’s on my mind, and some of the Germans I’ve met seem shocked by me.
Not Greta though,” he added quickly. “She’s half-American, and you can definitely tell. ”
Lucy cut open the paper wrapping from the flowers and began putting them in the vase one stem at a time, brightly colored tulips, tea roses, and peonies, a far more cheerful sight than the depressing depiction in Greta’s bedroom.
“Her apartment’s beautiful and all,” Lucy said, “but it’s a bad match for us. It’s too small, and the Wi-Fi’s awful.”
“Why are you guys here,” Adam said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “if you don’t mind my asking?”
“We had to leave town in a big, fat hurry, and I sort of rushed into this whole house swap thing.”
Adam squinted at her. “Are you a fugitive?”
“I mean, we’re not not fugitives,” she said. “Let’s just say we had our reasons for blowing town.”
“Interesting,” he said, “but I won’t pry, at least not until I get to know you better.” He was holding the coffee cup by its tiny handle, the saucer perched in his other hand. The sight made Lucy miss her mugs from home.
“The problem is,” she said, “I have to work on California time, which really sucks.”
“Shit,” he said, “how are you going to keep that up?”
“I have no idea,” she said, adding the last rose to the vase. “My daughters are making it impossible to appear even the least bit professional on Zoom. I need a twenty-four-hour WeWork. Do you think that exists around here?”
“I have no idea,” he said, and raised his coffee cup to her. “But I’ll tell you what: you can use my place.”
“Excuse me?” Lucy said, looking up from the flowers.
“Oh,” he said, “was that weird?”
“I mean, I appreciate hospitality as much as the next guy,” she said, “but you definitely sound like a serial killer.”
“No, really,” he said, “my schedule’s upside down too, and I’m usually out all night anyway, so you can use my place if you want. I have a spare room with a desk.”
“Out all night” seemed like some kind of red flag, but the words “spare room” and “desk” were music to her ears. Lucy was so tempted to say yes, at least for a few days. “Am I going to end up in your freezer?”
Adam scoffed. “Have you seen the size of German freezers?”
“Good point.” Greta and Otto’s could barely hold two ice cube trays and a box of popsicles.
“But there is a catch,” Adam said, taking the last sip of his coffee and setting the cup down on the saucer. “I’m going out of town next month, and I don’t have anyone to water my plants or feed my fish.”
“You have a fish ?” A fish was not the pet she would have guessed for a good-looking, forty-something-year-old man. “A fish is better than a snake,” she said, “but it’s still a little suspect.”
“I’m lonely,” he said, with a little shrug. “And a fish is better to come home to than no one at all. Pathetic, I know.”
“Are you divorced?” Lucy said. “Sorry, I also have a tendency to blurt things out.”
He didn’t look offended that she’d asked. “I’m almost divorced,” he said, leaning his elbows on the counter. “We’ve been separated for a while.”
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said, throwing the paper wrapping from the flowers in the trash. “What happened?”
“A lot of things. We got married right out of college,” Adam said, “and we’re ‘incompatible’ now, or at least that’s what my wife tells me. Like I really want kids, and she doesn’t.”
“And why,” she said suspiciously, “are you usually out all night?”
“Working,” he said. “I signed this German band after I heard them play at a venue in Brooklyn. They ended up getting a big record deal, and next thing I knew, I was moving to Berlin as their producer. Now I have to scout new talent pretty much every night so the label won’t regret hiring me.”
“And you bought a fish to keep you company,” she said. “Are you in Berlin to stay?”
“I guess?” he said. “Anyway, my offer’s sincere: If you need a quiet place to work, I’ll give you a key. And in exchange, I’m hoping you’ll take care of my fish while I’m away.”
Lucy was more than willing. She was ecstatic over this proposition.
“What’s his name?”
“Fish.”
She tipped her head. “Groundbreaking,” she said. “And how long will you be gone?” she said.
“About two weeks. Maybe three. I’m going to New York to finalize the divorce, and I have to move all my stuff out of our apartment and storage unit.” He gave her a sad smile. “And I have to say goodbye to our dog.”
“Ouch, sorry,” she said. “What if I accidentally kill your plants?”
“You won’t. They’re indestructible.”
“What if I kill Fish?”
“I’ll get over it.”
“How’s your Wi-Fi?” she said.
“Outstanding.”
Lucy picked up the vase of flowers and walked it over to the coffee table in the living room.
She imagined the girls knocking it over, water spilling on the antique Persian.
She moved it over to the dining room table.
There she worried a rogue petal might stain the polished wood.
She carried the vase back to the kitchen and set it on the counter.
“Thank you, Adam,” she said. “I accept.”
Lucy and the kids spent the day walking all around their new neighborhood.
Lucy’s one task of the day was to check out a nearby pool, where she signed the girls up for lessons.
They had schnitzel and fries for lunch—a total hit for all four of them, which almost never happened—and then stopped at a playground.
When they finally returned to the apartment, Lucy had an hour before work, and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep. She called her mother instead.
“How’s my ‘regal’ tenant?”
“She got off to a rough start,” Irene said, “but her English is better than mine. She and Otto are not what you’d call animal people.”
“Are the pets okay?”
“They’re fine. I’ll keep an eye on them. How are things there?”
“To be determined,” said Lucy. “You were right as usual: I rushed into this whole thing without thinking any of it through.”
“You fled like a bat out of hell—”
“I already said you were right,” Lucy said. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” her mom said. “I was about to say, you did the right thing, getting Jack out of here. You showed real strength. And it’s not like things are getting any better around here yet. So bravo to you.”
“Is it bad?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Do the Germans know about Jack?”
“I don’t plan to tell them,” her mom said, “but they might hear things. You know how people talk.”
Lucy did know, and she hated it. She sat down on the slipper chair in the corner of the bedroom.
“Greta seems bitchy,” Lucy said. “She sent me a bunch of pictures to show all the stains and scratches on everything from the rugs to the cars. She even took a picture of Tank’s chewed-up dog toy, like doesn’t she get that that’s the whole point of a dog toy?
Does she actually think I’m going to send her a bill after this?
” She rubbed a smudge on the tabletop next to her. “Is she going to send me a bill?”
“I don’t know, but maybe you should offer to buy her a new pair of shoes. Tank really went to town on hers.”
“Fine,” Lucy said. “But she sounds kind of awful.”
“Mmmm,” said Irene. “I think I like her. I’m going to take her on a little tour of Dallas tomorrow.”
“You definitely don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” she said. “And Jack’s friend Drew came by the office yesterday. He lost his retainers for the eighth time and needed new impressions made.”
“Isn’t that confidential patient—”
“And he told me Jack won’t take his calls or answer any of his messages. He looked like he was going to cry right there in the waiting room.”
“Well, retainers are very expensive,” Lucy said.
“That wasn’t my point.”
“I know,” Lucy said, “but Jack’s not up to talking to his friends right now.”
“Just remind him, this wasn’t Drew’s fault. He pretty much broke my heart, saying how much he misses Jack.”
“Poor Drew,” Lucy said. “But then again, Drew’s heading to Harvard in the fall, so he’ll be just fine.”
“Now who’s being bitchy,” Irene said. “Things aren’t easy for Drew, and you know it. He can barely make eye contact with me and he’s known me since he was eight.”
“You’re right,” Lucy said. “I’ll talk to Jack.” She could hear the girls laughing in their room. “You want to say hi to Zoe and Alice while I put my face on?”
“I’ve only got five minutes before I have to leave for work myself,” she said, “but sure.”
Lucy gave her phone to the girls and then put on a blue blouse, eyeliner, and mascara. She brushed her hair and got her laptop, ready to walk down one flight of stairs to her new office.
She hadn’t told her mother about the arrangement with Adam because she wasn’t sure how she could explain it without having to answer a million questions about who this stranger was and whether she was making good, thoughtful choices.
She probably wasn’t. She often didn’t. But she was doing the best she could. As she put on a little lip gloss, she hoped maybe Greta might blunder at some point—break a window or set off the fire alarm. It would make Lucy feel a whole lot better to know Greta had flaws too.