32. Heiligenhafen
HEILIGENHAFEN
It was true that Jack was the world’s slowest driver.
Emmi understood his caution; he had his little sisters in the back seat, and he was driving an ancient, stick-shift VW that didn’t belong to him on roads he didn’t know.
However, it would be nice to make it to Heiligenhafen at some point during their lifetime.
Almost five hours into what should have been a three-and-a-half-hour trip, Emmi pointed to an upcoming sign. “This is our exit!” she said. She rolled down the window and leaned out to smell the salt air and then rolled it back up again when Alice said it was too windy in the back seat.
“When was the last time you were here?” Jack said, downshifting, causing the car to jerk.
“Last year.” They were passing the last field of wind turbines and hay bales before getting off the highway. “This is the first summer that my family didn’t come. I thought an internship in New York was more important.”
“And was it?”
“How should I know?” she said. “I haven’t started. I called in krank .”
“ Krank? ” he said.
“ Krank means sick,” she said. “I lied and said I had Covid.”
“ Ich bin Autokrank ,” said Zoe.
“We’re almost there,” Emmi said. She pointed to the sign they were passing. “See? Heiligenhafen.”
“What does that mean?” Alice said.
“Holy moly,” said Zoe.
“Holy harbor ,” said Emmi.
Jack put on the blinker and slowed down even more to take the exit. “I’m pretty much always a rule follower,” he said.
“Me too,” she said.
“But stealing a car to go watch you have a fight at the beach is turning out to be my favorite activity.”
“We stole the car?” said Alice.
“What fight?” said Zoe.
“He’s joking,” said Emmi, “sort of.” She felt guilty then; her mother would be so shocked by this outrageous deception. But shouldn’t everyone be allowed one grand act of rebellion in their youth? If so, this was hers. All she could do now was hope her parents never found out about it.
The four of them drove into the quaint seaside town, and Emmi was overcome to see the sun on the water and the boats in the harbor.
She knew every detail of every building they passed, many of which had dates on them: 1751, 1735.
Emmi pointed out the brick town hall, built in the 1800s, originally as the villa of a shipowner.
This was midseason, so hordes of tourists were walking around the old part of the fishing village, hiking up to see the brick church, and strolling along the marina.
The market square was teeming with people, and she pointed Jack to a street where she hoped they could park. He hit the curb when he pulled into the space, but when they got out to check the tire, it looked fine.
The girls were happy to be out of the car. They all walked down a cobblestone street until they reached Ton und Text, the only bookstore in town.
“Ready?” said Jack.
“I think so,” Emmi said.
She was nervous when they walked in, but for no reason; a quick scan of the shop showed that Monika wasn’t there. Disappointed and a little relieved, Emmi went to the checkout to ask for her, only to learn it was her day off.
“ Sie arbeitet morgen Nachmittag ,” the man there said.
Bad timing! She did not think they could possibly stay until the next afternoon.
She found Jack in the children’s section, sitting on the floor with the girls.
“No luck?” he said, looking up.
She shook her head.
“You could text her and find out where they are today.”
“Yeah, later. But for now,” she said, “I really want to show you the house.”
Emmi could hardly wait to get there. Jack stalled the car twice before she directed him out of the town, across a bridge, and down a long, narrow dirt road that ran parallel to a nature preserve. Every so often, through the bluffs, she could catch a glimpse of the water.
“Okay,” she said, seeing the break in the weathered fence, “turn right in there.” Jack did, and there, surrounded by wild grasses and sand dunes, was the cottage.
It was white with pale blue timber beams, a place to go barefoot and not know what day of the week it was.
It made her think of marzipan and lemonade.
Emmi started to cry when she saw the “For Sale” sign.
Jack stopped the car, turned off the engine, and put a hand on Emmi’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m happy to be here,” she said, “but I’m so, so sad.” She wiped her eyes on her T-shirt. “I just don’t understand how my grandmother could let this place go.”
Alice unbuckled her seat belt and leaned forward, patting Emmi on the head. “Don’t cry.”
“You’re right,” Emmi said. “I’ll stop. Let’s go to the beach!”
They got out of the car, and Emmi took in the sight of the place.
The lichen and moss were taking over the thatch roof, giving the reeds a greenish hue.
Jack was giving the girls their backpacks as Emmi picked up a branch that had fallen across the gravel.
She tossed it in the shrubs, imagining how furious her grandmother would be to know she was there.
For some reason, she didn’t care. This trip felt important.
She unlocked the door. “Sorry if it smells a little musty,” she said, stepping inside.
Jack and the girls followed her through the entry, past the steep staircase, and into the living room.
Emmi pulled back the linen curtains, and sunlight streamed into the room and across the pale wood floors.
She began opening the sets of French doors at the back of the house. The sea breeze filled the room.
“Wow,” Jack said, walking out to look at the ocean.
“Why’s everything covered up?” Alice said.
“Does it look spooky?” Emmi said. She pulled the sheets off the floral couches and antique tables, waving her arm to dispel the dust motes that had been set aloft.
Alice stood in front of the fireplace, its opening as tall as she was, while Zoe was transfixed by the grandfather clock as it ticked the seconds away.
“Come on, you guys. We can get changed upstairs.”
Emmi led them up the staircase and showed them to a room where they could change into bathing suits… and maybe sleep if she could get Jack to agree to stay. And then she led him to the room with the best view in the house.
“I’ll meet you on the porch?” she said.
Jack had his backpack over his shoulder and pulled the curtains back from the window, his back to the four-poster bed. “Holy moly is right,” he said, smiling. “I’m glad we did this, Emmi, even if we get into huge fucking trouble—”
“We won’t,” she said.
“I definitely will, but this is worth it.” He turned and smiled, looking so much more relaxed than he had during the drive. “What’s it like here in winter?”
“Even better,” she said. “Cold, but we have the beach to ourselves.”
“Since we drove all this way,” Jack said, “I think we should stay overnight.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s not like I can get in any more trouble this year.”
They spent the rest of the day on the beach.
As she watched the girls playing together in the water, Emmi couldn’t help but see herself and Monika in them, remembering summer after summer, the betrayal hitting her even harder than when she’d first found out.
And it pained her to think she was losing not only her most treasured friendship but her favorite place as well.
The only consolation was Jack. He was kind and thoughtful. Every time she looked over at him, he was watching her, making sure she was okay.
Emmi suggested they go to a fish restaurant for dinner, given that they were on the Baltic, but Alice made a horrified face and Zoe clasped two hands to her throat and pretended to throw up.
They walked instead to a crowded burger place where they could sit outside, overlooking the boats in the marina.
After they ordered, Emmi sat back and looked around at the people. This was a tourist trap and not the kind of restaurant she would normally go to with her parents or grandparents. But it was perfect for the girls, who were busy playing tic-tac-toe on the back of a paper place mat.
“You okay?” Jack said.
“Not really,” said Emmi. “But I’m glad to be here.” And that was when she spotted Monika. Of all the places they could have gone, they happened to be having dinner at the same restaurant. And was she here on a date with Karl? Emmi’s eyes scanned the room, looking for him.
But as Monika approached a table not far from theirs, Emmi noticed the apron tied around her waist. Standing in front of a group of tourists, Monika was nodding as they demanded beers, more napkins, and a fork to replace one on the ground.
Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a blue streak hanging loose over her face, and she wiped her forehead with her sleeve.
Monika had not one job but two, and she was working her ass off.
And then, off to her right, Emmi saw Karl, clearing dishes into a plastic tub.
Jack saw them too and gave Emmi an urgent, questioning look: Here? he seemed to say. Now? She shook her head. She wasn’t going to cause a scene, not in front of all these people, not while her ex-friend and ex-boyfriend were working. Instead Emmi kept her head tilted down, hoping not to be seen.
Without even asking, Jack asked for their food to go, paid the bill, and helped them slip away.
Emmi sat on the back porch with a beer, her bare feet on the coffee table, wondering whether this was the last time she would ever visit the cottage.
She was waiting for Jack to put the girls to bed, listening to the waves and watching the seagrass bend in the wind, when her phone pinged with a text from her mother in New York, asking how her day was going, whether the internship was interesting, and what time she would be free for dinner.
Emmi felt a wave of guilt as she texted back that everything was great, danke , just very, very stressig .
So sorry! she wrote. Working late tonight. Keine Zeit für Abendessen :(
Her mom texted back a heart. No worries, I understand! Focus on work!