34. Berlin
BERLIN
To be home! Greta rolled her bag into the arrivals area at the Flughafen, having spent a sleepless night on the plane. The timing and circumstances of this trip were not ideal, but she could not curb her euphoria to be back in Berlin.
She looked around the terminal until she spotted a woman waving at her; a vague memory flashed through her mind, a moment in early June at another airport, in another country. Greta smiled as they walked toward each other.
“Does your daughter have a stuffed rabbit?” she said. “It can’t be that— Was that you?”
“You were the one who found Fred in Newark,” Lucy said, a look of delight taking over her pretty face. “You were our savior on the trip here.”
Greta was growing accustomed to embracing people she’d never met, so when Lucy reached out then and hugged her, Greta hugged her back just as tightly.
Over Lucy’s shoulder, she took in the shops and German signs around her, the familiar advertisements and kiosks, feeling so happy to be back. “Our kids are okay?” she said.
“They’re fine,” said Lucy, stepping back and relieving Greta of her bag.
“I’m sorry Emmi dragged them into this,” Greta said, still reeling from the shock of it. “I can’t believe she did something so—”
“No, I’m sorry,” Lucy said, locking arms with her. But instead of heading toward the taxis, she turned them in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” Greta said.
“It turns out that Jack dragged Emmi into something too,” Lucy said. “We’re going on a little road trip.”
Once Lucy explained how and why the kids had ended up in Copenhagen, Denmark, of all places, they rented a car and headed to Rostock. Lucy drove the two and a half hours north, chatting the whole way, and Greta had the feeling she’d known her all her life.
“How was your trip to Copenhagen?” she said.
“Complicated,” said Lucy with a smile. “And how was New York?”
“Complicated,” said Greta. “I made a decision that might destroy my career.”
“And how was Adam?”
“It was nice to see him,” she said. “He’s a good friend.”
“Is that all?” said Lucy, glancing at her. “You should see the way he talks about you.”
Greta was relieved Adam hadn’t said or done anything to cross a line. “He knows me pretty well,” Greta said. “And he knows I would never betray Otto.”
“No, of course not,” said Lucy. “I’m sorry if I muddled things up for you.”
“You didn’t,” said Greta, when, in fact, Greta had never felt more muddled.
She’d fought—and won—a battle with desire and was proud of herself for it.
It had been so long since Otto had done more than peck her on the cheek, and she couldn’t say that Adam didn’t spark something in her, even making her fantasize about kissing him.
But Greta had to accept that sex was not part of her life anymore.
She turned away to look out the window, surprised by the ache in her heart.
If the Holt reunion was strained—Lucy’s patchwork family coming together at a Treffpunkt in the historic Neuer Markt—you wouldn’t have known it by watching them.
Lucy hugged her children before kneeling to meet Bj?rn and Astrid’s daughters.
It was clear to Greta this was the beginning of something for the two families, not the end.
And she had a misplaced longing to be part of it all.
Her reunion with Emmi was pricklier.
Emmi approached her sheepishly. “ Es tut mir sehr leid ,” she said.
“You’re safe,” Greta said, hugging her. “That’s the only thing that matters. But why didn’t you tell me what you were doing? We could have talked about it. And what about your job?”
“I told them I had Covid,” Emmi said. “They’re expecting me the day after—”
Greta could not believe her ears. “You lied to a law firm?”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s so unlike you, Emmi,” Greta said, her exasperation growing. “What made you—”
“You said I needed to confront Monika—”
“I didn’t mean in person —”
“But then I got there, and I realized I didn’t go all the way to Heiligenhafen because of Karl and Monika. I wanted to say goodbye to the house. This was important to me.”
Greta hugged her again. “I understand,” she said. “And I’m so sorry. It’s hard for me too.” She wanted, for Emmi’s sake, to be positive, to help her look forward instead of backward. “So tell me: Did you manage to enjoy yourself, even though you were sad? At least a little bit?”
“Oh, yes,” Emmi said. “Would it be okay if Jack and I drive back in the VW?”
After the betrayal of Monika and Karl, Greta was glad to know Jack was stepping in to be a friend to her. “Of course,” she said. “I’m so glad you don’t hate him anymore.”
“Yeah, no,” said Emmi. “I don’t hate him at all.”
They returned to Savignyplatz in the evening, and as Greta walked into her apartment, the familiar smells and sights made her heart full.
Did she notice the scratch on the entry floor, the foggy spot on the dining room table, the missing Meissen in Emmi’s bedroom?
She did. Did she care? Oh, yes, she did.
But she would never mention it. Some things, like friendship, were more important than perfect hardwood floors and antique chairs.
Never had Greta’s apartment had as much life in it as it did that night.
While Irene and Lucy placed a huge order for Thai takeout, Greta called Bettina and asked her to join them as well.
Rex and Jack added the extra leaf to the dining table, and as they all sat down together, Greta marveled that this gathering was taking place.
She did not spend her time worrying about the hot containers being passed around or Til wandering under the table or the sticky sauce that dripped in the vicinity of the upholstered chairs.
She let it all go, and instead listened to the tales of the kids’ unplanned excursion to the beach and beyond, asked the twins about their swim classes and friends, watched with curiosity as Emmi leaned in to whisper something to Jack, and caught Bettina up on their mother’s escapades.
After they cleared away the plates, Lucy put a package of cookies in the center of the table and a box stamped with the Royal Copenhagen crown right in front of Greta.
“What’s this for?” Greta said.
“It’s a little something I bought for you,” said Lucy. “It’s the least I can do.”
Greta opened the box to find a gold-rimmed Flora Danica plate. “Oh, Lucy,” she said, admiring the hand-painted flowers, “it’s beautiful. You shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, she should,” said Alice, “because Zoe broke your pink plate.”
“It was an accident,” Zoe said, turning on her sister. “You’re such a tattletale.”
“It’s okay, Zoe,” Greta said. “Accidents happen, and this new plate is much prettier.”
“Where are we all sleeping tonight?” Emmi said.
“Rex and I checked into a hotel earlier,” Irene said. “It’s right around the corner.”
“And we’ll stay downstairs in Adam’s apartment,” said Greta.
“Are you sure?” said Lucy.
“He said you have a key I can borrow, and I wouldn’t dream of putting you out.” Greta stood up. “And since we have to be up so early, we should probably go to bed.”
Bettina and Til left with Greta and Emmi, and they all hugged goodbye in the stairwell.
Then Greta and Emmi let themselves into Adam’s apartment.
It was neat as could be. Greta went over to see the fish.
“I guess I’m sleeping here?” Emmi said, sitting down on the sofa.
“No, you can share the bed with me,” Greta said.
“That’s okay,” Emmi said. “I think I’ll sleep better here.”
Greta was annoyed, but she found an extra sheet and a blanket and helped Emmi make up the couch.
“Thank you for coming to get me, Mami ,” Emmi said, hugging her suddenly. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll see you in the morning, Schatz ,” Greta said, knowing it would not be easy to get her up and out the door for their flight. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine,” Emmi said, lying down and pulling the blanket over her. “Good night.”
Greta went back to the bedroom and put on her pajamas. She pulled back the covers of the bed, feeling electrified by the intimacy of sleeping under Adam’s sheets, even if he was six thousand kilometers away. She imagined him walking into the room….
She’d kept Adam at a distance, as she should, but when they’d hugged goodbye, chastely and in public, she’d had a very hard time letting him go.
Greta slept deeply that night, comforted by the creaking and clanking of her prewar building.
As soon as she was dressed and ready to go in the morning, Lucy knocked on the door, keys in hand, insisting on driving them to the airport.
Greta could see the exhaustion in Lucy’s eyes. “You really don’t have to—”
“It’s fine,” Lucy said. “I have to drop off the rental car anyway.”
Emmi came up behind her, makeup on and hair damp, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Ready?” she said.
“Look at you,” said Greta, so pleased there wouldn’t be a struggle to get her out the door. “I thought I would have to nudge you.”
“God,” Emmi said, annoyed. “ Ich kann auf mich selbst aufpassen ,” and she rolled her carry-on out the door.
“And to think,” Greta said quietly, “she actually needed me yesterday.”
Lucy laughed.
Greta checked to make sure she’d left Adam’s apartment the way she’d found it, wrote a quick message of thanks on a scrap of paper, and then locked the door, handing Lucy the key.
They were heading down the stairs when Jack caught up to them.
“You’re up?” Lucy said, patting his back as he walked by. “Are you coming to the airport with us?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Just asking,” said Lucy, and she rolled her eyes.
Emmi and Jack got in the back seat, and Greta sat in the front, giving Lucy directions as they headed off to the airport.
Just as they got on the Autobahn, Greta got a text from Tobias: Sorry to have bad news but your mother has severe motion sickness. Dehydration maybe?
“ Schei?e ,” Greta said. She counted backward in her head; it was ten o’clock at night in California.
“What’s wrong?” Emmi said.
“It’s your grandmother,” Greta said. “She’s sick on the boat.”
She started to text him back but then decided to call instead.
“Oh good, Greta,” he said. “I hate to worry you.”
“Is she okay?”
“ Nein ,” he said. “We’ve only had two days on the boat, but it’s not going well. Lillian is seekrank .”
Greta shook her head. “How seasick is she?”
“She’s feeling wretched. Nauseous and shaky. She took Dramamine, and I told her to give it another day, but she wants to disembark as soon as possible.”
“Okay,” said Greta, “and then what?”
“She says she’ll fly home. I can get her to Los Angeles, and I wondered if you could meet her at the marina.” A seagull squawked in the background.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Greta said. “Can you put her on?”
“She can’t talk right now,” he said. “She’s currently… throwing up.”
“Poor thing,” said Greta. “Can you take her to a hotel to recover?”
“I can’t leave the boat that long,” he said. “I was thinking since Dallas isn’t that far—”
“I’m nowhere near Dallas,” Greta said.
“Oh,” he said. “New York?”
“Berlin,” she said flatly. “I can’t get there for probably…” She tried to do the math. “Fifteen hours.”
That silenced him a moment, and Greta had no solution to propose either. Even if she called Otto, he wouldn’t be able to get there until the next day.
“Maybe she’ll get her sea legs after all,” he said, weak hope in his voice.
“Unlikely,” Greta said. “All I can do is get on a plane and get there as soon as I can. But you can’t leave my mom alone in some port.”
“Of course not,” he said. “She can stay on the boat as long as necessary. Just let me know how soon someone can get here to meet her.”
“I’ll call you back,” she said, and hung up.
She looked out the window at the passing cars, feeling utterly helpless.
“What does your mom need?” Lucy said.
“Dry land,” said Greta. “She needs to be picked up at a marina in LA and taken to the airport or a hotel. I don’t know. The friend she’s with can’t leave his boat.”
“That sounds complicated,” Lucy said.
“She’ll just have to stay put until I can get there,” said Greta.
As they drove, she looked for connecting flights from Dallas to LAX, wondering how her mother would cope in the intervening hours, if maybe the Dramamine would kick in.
Lucy pulled up in front of the international terminal and put the car in park. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and then turned to Greta. “It’s not ideal,” she said, “but I might have a way to help your mom.”