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“I, yeah man, sure!” Bella fidgets around like an excited puppy for a few moments, then takes a deep breath. “All right, let me just disinfect the room one more time…”
“Or you can take compartment two.” I point to the center sliding door. “Because I had just gotten that one ready to show Ms. … Celine how we handle this.”
“Really? Cool, that’s sweet of you!” Bella shoos Jelisaweta into the compartment, then disappears into hers to get her materials.
I’m more upset by the whole thing than I’d like to admit. I plop down on the chair and catch Ms.… Celine’s questioning look. “Mhm?” I wordlessly invite her to talk and put my feet up.
She wriggles about on the sofa, chewing on her lower lip with her teeth. “It… that…” Her eyelids flutter, the subtle mascara touching her cheeks like the flap of a butterfly’s wing.
I’m already getting ready to jump up in case she faints again.
But her gaze catches me, she looks at me. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all the commotion I caused.”
Damn it! Why can’t I think of a suitable response?On the face of it, the innocent look of this sweetness has bamboozled me completely. Or rather, the so-unexpectedly-perceived concern for her well-being.
“…how I can ever make this up?” I overhear and start to listen to her more attentively. “After all, we were going to continue working on your, uh, your business plan after the tour—and now I’ve completely screwed that up. I’m such a chicken! A stupid, stupid, dumb chicken! After all, I know I can’t stand the sight of blood. But no, instead of admitting that to myself and just not watching, I had to give in to my stupid curiosity and…” She doesn’t continue talking, letting the rest of the sentence hang in the air between us.
“And?” I ask back, and she rolls her eyes toward the ceiling. Since she doesn’t seem to want to elaborate on her thoughts, I shrug. “I don’t see anything wrong with curiosity. On the contrary. Besides, you have to reexamine your limits from time to time. After all, if you don’t do that, you’re left with no room to grow.”
“That sounds very wise,” she notes with a small smile. “And like you’ve had as much life experience as my Aunt Mareike has accumulated in her nearly seventy years of life.”
What am I supposed to say in response?Memories fly by, and I tense up so as not to feed them. “It matters less to fill life with years than to fill the years with life.”
She pauses in her head movement and fixes her eyes on me, and her pupils dilate.
Fuck! Shit! What kind of bullshit am I babbling?Surely the remark about her relative sounded patronizing to her. “So, for me, then. Just for me personally.” I want to say more, but rather shut up before I verbally get myself into more shit.
But she just leans forward and puts her fingers on my hand. “I understand.”
Whew.I grimace in relief and jump up because I can’t take the internal tension anymore while sitting down. “More coffee, too?”
She sighs. “I’d love one…” Her hand rests on her stomach. “However, I have to admit that the whole thing took a lot out of me. Would… you mind if we had a sit-down again at another time?”
“Nah, nah. It’s all right.”
“Oh my Go—” She swallows the final consonant, and I have to smirk, remembering the word banter last week. “That, well… I didn’t even consider that you took the half day off specifically for our appointment. I… If it’s more convenient for you, we can get together after you get off work sometime.”
I hesitate, which she apparently misinterprets because she unleashes a muddled mass of words at me:
“Of course, completely at no extra cost! The fault is mine alone, and of course, I would then provide suitable food so that we—”
“Agreed,” I interrupt her, enjoying the irritated quiver of her lips. “When would be convenient for you? The day after tomorrow?”
“The day after tomo—?” She gasps briefly. “Sure thing, no problem!” she replies glibly, examining me with a glint in her eye. Then she visibly collects herself and sits up straighter. “But now I’d better be on my way…” She stands up briskly and takes two steps. And slams her shin against the edge of the coffee table so hard that it clangs.
“Fuck!” I leap up, just barely catching her by the elbow before she loses her balance.
“Oopsie,” she giggles, leaning against my chest with a gurgling laugh. “What was that? Anyway, I… where did I put my thingamajig?”
What does she mean?“Your purse?” I ask.
“Yes. I need it.” She giggles again. “And my file junk. Because…” She takes a deep breath and puts her head back in her neck to look up at me, but this instantly throws her off balance again.
I put my arm around her, gently guiding her to the back area. “Could it be,” I inquire, “that vodka drained all in one go doesn’t typically represent your snack for the 10 o’clock break?”
“That’s…” She giggles, but dutifully allows me to lead her to the back. “True. But maybe I shoulddo that moroften?”
Holy shit! No way!The alcohol seems to have its full effect on her now, her pronunciation washes out with each further syllable.
