An Uncommon Family (11 page)

“He lives in Peru. My sister was a single mother. She met Arturo on a trip to South America and ended up pregnant. He’s a good man. He offered to take Karla with him to Peru after her mother died. But we decided it would be too much of an upheaval for her. He tries to stay in touch, but how can you develop a relationship over such a distance?”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Jonas put down his glass. “It’s hard enough when your children are adults and move away. I couldn’t imagine not having them close when they’re little.”

“You’re still really close, aren’t you?” Anna said.

“Yes, we are, thank God.” He nodded, then pointed at the window. “It’s still snowing a little.”

“Isn’t the snow pretty at night?” Anna said. “We get sick of it by the end of winter, but it makes everything so peaceful.”

Jonas nodded then looked at the fire. It was quiet aside from the hissing of the pine logs and an occasional moaning of the wind. “Eva loved to watch the snow in the dark,” he said in a low voice and glanced at Anna. The reflection of the flames from the fire created dancing lights in his eyes. He turned his head and looked toward the fire again. Anna watched his strong profile, the high forehead, covered in part by a strand of thick white hair, the slightly aquiline nose, the neatly trimmed beard.

“I used to wake up in the middle of the night,” he continued in a low, dark voice. “The bed next to me was empty. And there she was, in the living room, wrapped in a blanket, gazing outside at the snowflakes.”

“How was she? Your wife?” Anna lifted her hand in an impulse to touch his arm but pulled it back instead and let it fall into her lap. “Sorry, I don’t want to intrude if it makes you sad.”

“That’s okay. Eva was wonderful. She was intelligent, beautiful, sexy, and independent.” Jonas gave a quick laugh, then his face clouded over. “Losing her independence when she was sick was the most devastating part of her illness.”

“Where did you meet her?” Anna got up and put another log on the fire. The flames flared up and the wood was hissing and spitting. She moved the fender a little closer to prevent the sparks from shooting out.

“We met in Zurich. She was studying to become an actress,” Jonas said.

“Did you already live in Switzerland then? I thought your family was Danish.”

Jonas nodded. “My father is Danish; my mother is Swiss. Years ago, my father worked for a Danish company in Zurich, where he met my mother. I was born here and I lived most of my life here. Later, my parents moved to Denmark.

“I studied art and had found a teaching job here in Zurich. And I met Eva, so I ended up staying. We eventually got married.”

Jonas gazed out the window, then gave a chuckle. “It almost didn’t happen. Eva was a freedom-loving person and I was a jealous young punk. We had quite a few rows while dating.”

Eva’s work as an actress brought her in touch with many men who flirted with her. She was a free spirit and somewhat of a flirt herself. “It doesn’t mean anything,” she used to tell Jonas. “It’s just a game.”

Jonas tried to be open-minded. He knew that Eva’s work brought with it invitations by influential men, who promised to further her career and hoped for a few intimate moments or hours in return.

“Don’t worry, I know how to keep them at bay,” Eva said as she was getting ready to go out with a film producer.

Jonas, racked by feelings of inferiority and fears of losing Eva—after all, he was merely a painting teacher and as yet an unknown artist—began to secretly follow her around. He watched her go into a restaurant with her escort. He waited across the street, hiding in a doorway until they came back out. He followed them as long as possible. Sometimes, they took a taxi and drove away. Jonas, deeply ashamed of his distrust and insecurities, hung his head and went home. Sometimes, though, the suspicions ate at him so much that he went to Eva’s apartment a few streets away from his own and waited there as well, wanting to check if she went into her place alone. One day, Eva caught him spying and it had almost cost Jonas the relationship.

It had been one of those gray and gloomy November days. Eva was in a play, which Jonas couldn’t attend since he had a class that night. Eva told him she might go out with a few of the actors after the play.

“Come and meet us afterward, we’ll probably have a drink at the bar next to the theater,” she said.

That evening, Jonas’s class at the Kunstgewerbeschule lasted longer than planned. He took the streetcar to the station next to the Kunsthaus, the main art museum of the city. Across the street were the theater and a bar. A few of the actors Jonas recognized were still there but there was no sign of Eva.

“She left about fifteen minutes ago with Ivor,” Karl, one of the actors, told him.

Jonas felt his heartbeat speed up. Ivor was a Swedish actor known for his womanizing. Jonas knew that he was after Eva. She had even told him laughingly one night. “He doesn’t interest me. He’s a good actor but a windbag.” So why did she leave with him?

“Have a drink.” Karl pointed at the empty chair next to him.

“No thanks, another time.” Jonas lifted his hand to wave good-bye. He stepped outside and stopped in front of the theater. There was a poster at the entrance with Eva’s picture on it. She had a part in
Mother Courage
by Bertolt Brecht. Jonas peered at the photo. She played a poor woman, dressed in rags, with dirty limp hair falling into her face, but even so she was beautiful. No wonder she turned every man’s head. A wave of anger flooded him, followed by shame.
I don’t deserve her
.

Outside, the cold, wet air of a gloomy November evening brushed across his face and a dank smell from wet leaves hung in the air. Jonas shivered and pulled up his coat collar and buried his hands in his pockets. He stopped, not sure what to do. Should he call her? Go by her place? What if she was with Ivor? He couldn’t bear it, but not knowing was even worse. He walked across the street to the tram station and boarded one of the blue-and-white streetcars. He sat down at the window and looked out into the darkening night. At the Zentral station, he got off and took a different tram, which brought him up to the University of Zurich. Eva lived in an apartment nearby.

It was one of the old houses, which dated back to the nineteenth century. It had been renovated several times and combined old-fashioned elegance with a few gestures toward modernity. The stone walls of the house had been painted a light yellow, and the green lacquered old-fashioned shutters gave the heavy building a cheerful touch.

Jonas stood in front of the house, looking up to Eva’s apartment. There was light in the living room; she must be home. Perhaps he was wrong. She may have just left at the same time as Ivor by accident, thinking Jonas wouldn’t come anymore. He saw someone walk by the balcony door. It was Eva. Just as Jonas was getting ready to ring the bell, he saw a second figure. He didn’t recognize who it was, since the person stood farther back from the window. Eva turned around and seemed to say something to the person. Then the two disappeared. Jonas waited, his heart beating fast. What should he do? Should he just go inside and confront her? But if it was Ivor, they’d just make up an excuse and Jonas would look like a fool. After all, Eva had the right to invite whomever she wanted into her apartment. Jonas waited for a while, hoping the guy—Jonas assumed it was a man—would step closer to the window, but nothing happened.

Jonas knew what he was about to do was wrong. Eva was somewhat of a flirt but she had never given him any real reason to distrust her. His suspicions clouded his mind, but he couldn’t help it. He took a deep breath and went into the small yard at the side of the house. A drainpipe led from the roof along the balcony to the ground. About two feet up from the ground, there was a slight protrusion in the wall, and another larger one somewhat higher up. From there, he could get a good look inside the apartment.

Jonas looked around, feeling like an intruder. He hesitated, then held on to the pipe and pulled himself up, holding the pipe with one hand and reaching for the first jutting stone with the other hand. He was just about to reach for the second one when he slipped. He held on to the pipe, but one of the clamps connecting the pipe to the wall came off and he slid down the wall, scratching his hand and ripping his pants. There was a loud metallic bang as he pushed against the pipe. He fell to the ground; his hand was bleeding and there was a tear in his pant leg.

The balcony door opened. Eva stepped outside and looked around. Jonas tried to find somewhere to hide but Eva spotted him right away.

“What’s going on? What happened to you?” She stared at him stunned.

“Nothing, I . . .”

The visitor stepped out onto the balcony. It was Eva’s mother. “Jonas? What a surprise. Why don’t you come in?”

Eva narrowed her eyes and her face was flooded with anger.

“Eva, I’m sorry, I can explain,” Jonas stuttered.

“Go away.” Eva grabbed her mother’s arm and tried to drag her inside.

“But Eva?” Her mother looked at her puzzled.

“Never mind, Mom. Come on.” Eva turned to Jonas. “Don’t try to contact me. Just leave me alone.”

“Eva, please . . .” But the balcony door was shut and Eva pulled the drapes.

Jonas slinked away like a beggar. His hand was bleeding, his pants were torn, his heart was crushed, and he felt like a complete fool.

Anna laughed after Jonas finished telling her the story. “You poor guy, that must have been horrible. But you obviously made up again.”

Jonas grinned. “Yeah, it took a while. Fortunately, Eva’s mother liked me and intervened on my behalf. But she took me aside one day and told me to get my feelings of jealousy under control or I would drive Eva away for good. Eva had been strong-willed and independent even as a child. The minute she felt tied down or trapped, she’d rebel. However, she was also a very loyal person.

“So I had to learn to trust her and it wasn’t always easy.” Jonas gave a wistful smile. “But it was worth it.”

Anna and Jonas were quiet for a while, gazing at the falling snow. Anna got up and extinguished a few of the candles that had burned down on the Christmas tree, then sat down again.

Jonas faced her. “What about you, Anna? You were married once, weren’t you?” He could almost feel the woman tense up. Her face hardened and she stared down at her hands. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Jonas hastened to say. He hesitated, then lightly touched her arm. She seemed to stiffen even more, but then relaxed and exhaled. “It’s a long . . . and intense story,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s obviously too painful for you.”

Anna’s shoulders slumped and she looked up at him. “I want to tell you one day, but not tonight.  I’d rather wait until we have more time. I’m getting a little tired.”

Jonas looked at the clock. “No wonder. It’s two o’clock in the morning.”

PART THREE

Chapter 23

Anna sat at her desk in front of the window, gazing at the signs of spring, the yellow and white crocuses, which had shot up spontaneously on the lawn in front of the house. The hazel bushes along the forest were in full bloom. It was a quiet morning. Karla was spending part of her spring break in the south of Switzerland with Lena and her friends. Lena had been a close friend of Karla’s mother when she and Karla still lived in the Ticino.

Anna was in the process of making up a list of new books she wanted to order for the library. She also prepared for a couple of events for the bookstore: a storytelling hour for children and their parents and a reading of new books in the evening for the adults.

Maintaining the bookstore was a constant struggle. It was the only one in town and well liked by the people of the small community. However, the village was only half an hour away from the city of Zurich and many people preferred to shop in the city, where there was a much greater choice of shops and stores. Anna had to constantly think of new ideas to attract customers. Her readings for adults and story hours for the kids were popular, particularly among the older generation and the young children. The adolescents, however, preferred the more glamorous environment of the city with its movie theaters and video stores.

So far, Anna had been able to make a small profit, but for her it was mainly a labor of love. Had it been for the money, she would have sold the store long ago.

It was a gloomy morning outside. In the north, gray-white clouds towered over the mountains. Anna got up to pour herself another cup of coffee when the phone rang. It was Jonas.

“They are playing
Cavalleria Rusticana
at the opera house. Would you be interested?”

Anna faltered for a moment. It was a piece of music she loved but it was associated with both a happy and an intensely sad time in her life.

“Yes, of course,” she finally said.

“You’re sure?” Jonas must have picked up on her hesitation.

“Yes, the name of the opera just reminded me of something . . . problematic in the past. But I love the piece.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up.”

After Anna hung up the phone, she sat at her desk, looking out the window, daydreaming. She was halfway aware of the gray-white sheets of fog floating by. Toward the south, patches of blue sky were visible.

What a coincidence
, she thought. It was during that very opera at the Lincoln Center back in New York City that Nico had kissed her for the first time. And ten years later, after a performance of the same opera, Anna’s life fell apart. Was it fate that Jonas invited her to the same piece of music? Was it a bad omen?

Jonas was different from Nico. He was a quieter person, not as sparkling as Nico had been. He was kind and gentle with people but intense and passionate about his work. Karla loved him, and Anna once in a while thought he would be a good substitute father for her.