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Still being on the way home from Cologne I watched the first YouTube videos on paving, concreting curbs and planting trees, and shrubs. Celine had rightly insisted on driving.
I’m at that step right now, having already finished a larger patio just inside the corner of the building and a smaller one in the back corner of the property.
The workout is doing me good. In the evening, after a small snack, I fall into bed as if dead, then sleep deep, and most importantly, dreamlessly until the alarm clock rings.
Speaking of alarm clocks: Not only Celine came to terms with my actionism, but she also now brings perennials and green plants from the discount store. Also, ointment from the pharmacy for my aching muscles.
We are such a fucking good team.But after what happened in Cologne, she is more unattainable to me than ever. The rest of my self-respect that is left to me forbids me to strive for more than friendship with her.
My life is way too broken. Under no circumstances must I drag her down into the abyss with me.
I grip the pick handle tighter, swing the tool over my head, and strike. According to the YouTube video, the planting hole for the panicle hydrangeaLime Greenthat Celine insisted on buying must be at least twice as deep.
After an extended hot shower, I receive the first client of the day.
“Thank you for making the pre-meeting possible on such short notice.” She sinks into the meeting chair with a heartfelt sigh.
“That urgent?” I can’t suppress a smirk. “What’s it about?”
She tugs at her neckline, peering frantically over both shoulders. “This… I… Is there somewhere we can—?”
“In more privacy?” I stand up, motioning with my hand for her to rise as well. “Sure, come with me to the back…”
In the corner under the stairs, separated by cabinets, she unbuttons her blouse. Two doe twins, as tight as they are well made, almost jump into my face. She lifts them with both hands. “Can you do something about that?”
With the necessary professionalism, I bend down. “Sebastian?” I read off the squiggly letters. “I guess that means the gentleman is out of date?”Why do colleagues do this?I steadfastly refuse to tattoo the names of one’s life partners.
She nods, sniffling. “The asshole cheated on me! With my best friend!”
I struggle to keep a neutral expression. “And what exactly did you have in mind for a cover?”
After she has left, there is some time before the next client arrives. I saunter over to the grand piano, open the lid, and grab a few chords to get warmed up. Then I get going.
Bella comes out of her compartment, grinning at me. “You’re playingInkby Coldplay?” Full of fervor, she moves her hips to the beat. “Not seriously? You had another request for a name-of-the-ex-girlfriend cover-up?”
“Boyfriend,” I correct her and finish by sweeping two fingers across the keys once.
“Some people never learn…” she comments and goes back to her work.
If they would at least just take a pocket knife tobeautifythemselves with the name… Sure, cover-ups bring money into the cash register. But from an artistic point of view, it’s anything but satisfying…I sigh and grimace at my reflection in the shiny piano lacquer.Who would have thought that I would ever be able to allow myself such thoughts?
30. There is No More Time toWithdraw
Celine
After clearing the breakfast table, I’m stopped on my way to the bathroom by a knock. Discreet, but at the same time insistent, and my heart hops into the air. “Come in, Philipp!” I call in as expressionless a voice as possible and march into the wet room as if winded up. Clutching the handle of the hairbrush with both hands, I stare at myself in the mirror:What would he say if he caught me slobbering over him like one of his brightly colored tattooed groupies?
Which is what I’m doing. Actually, all the time. But especially in the last few weeks, since he revealed his innermost self to me at the funeral.
This vulnerable, wounded, humiliated side of his soul… It should scare me off, but it only makes him more desirable to me. Which should hardly be possible when I see him digging through tons of mud, dirt and rocks down in the backyard.
Fortunately for me—or unluckily? I can’t decide—it’s still too cold for scanty T-shirts or even topless work.
Otherwise, I couldn’t guarantee anything…
With a wry smile, I run the brush through my hair one last time.
Besides, I’ve sworn to myself that after the experience with Kevin, I should now first rearrange my life. And look for my own apartment.
