Life After Forty Read Free Page A

guess.”
    Bernd turned around and went back into the house. Maybe he was regretting his decision after all. I didn’t understand what had put him in such a bad mood; he usually seemed very happy not to have to see me in the house.
    When I rang Antje’s doorbell, Karola opened the door and flung herself around my neck.
    “You’re here at last! Are you better now? Is that for me? Can I open it now?”
    Answers weren’t necessary; the hallway was suddenly full of ten-year-old girls all shouting at once. I squeezed past them and went into the kitchen. Antje was standing in front of the stove and stirring a pot with a concentrated expression. She only raised her head briefly to nod at me.
    “Hi, Christina, how’s it going?”
    Then she buried her head back in the recipe next to her. I was amazed.
    “Hi, Antje. You know, nothing new. What’s up with you?”
    “Oh, you know what it’s like. These birthday parties always stress me out. I spent the whole afternoon running around town, my feet are sore, and Kathleen, that friend of Karola’s, the fat one, she’s got one heck of a voice on her.”
    She was chattering like a wind-up puppet, loud, banal sentences, not looking up at me even once. I went over to her and pushed the recipe away.
    “Have I done something to upset you?”
    “No, er, it’s just…nothing. So, it’s really great that you’ve got a terrace in your new place. That means you can take the wicker beach chair with you.”
    I suddenly went cold. First it was just a feeling, and then my brain started to work. She stared into the pot.
    “Antje?”
    She was silent, just stirring.
    I took my bag and my jacket and went into the children’s room to say goodbye to Karola. She was caught up with unwrapping her presents, smiling at her friends with her eyes sparkling.
    I left.

The Beginning
     
    I nes sat on her toolbox and uncapped her beer bottle with a cigarette lighter. She looked first at Dorothea, then me, with a triumphant smile.
    “Nine minutes.”
    Dorothea nodded at her and rubbed the blister on her forefinger.
    “Under ten—I knew it.”
    I’d come into the living room with a box full of books and had no idea what they were talking about.
    “What’s nine minutes?”
    Ines put the bottle to her mouth, took a few long swigs, put it down again, and then looked at me.
    “That’s a record. We just built the last Billy bookcase in under ten minutes.”
    Dorothea held up her forefinger for me to see.
    “Under ten. With this blister!”
    Years ago she’d been my brother Georg’s girlfriend. After a while their love had faded, but the friendship had stayed. And Dorothea, who had won our family’s hearts with her charm and wit, stayed too. She was very enthusiastic about my plan to move to Hamburg. She lived there as well.
    Ines put her lighter against another bottle of beer, opened it, and handed it to Dorothea. She pushed herself off from the wall, took a chair from where it was stacked, upturned against another, and sat down with a groan.
    “My back! And this blister. And you think I can drink after eight Billys?”
    “After eight Billys, it’s compulsory to have a drink. Want one too, Christine?”
    I looked around me. Everything was all over the place. Empty bookshelves, coats, cushions, and curtains all over the sofa, chairs stacked on top of one another, rolls of carpet and moving boxes everywhere.
    “It’s getting worse and worse in here.”
    My heart sank.
    “Well, Christine, I really think you could at least tidy up a little. You used to be so neat, and as soon as you’re in the big city, then bam—you let it all go!”
    Dorothea laughed heartily at her own joke. She tapped the bookshelf that was serving as a table, full of beer bottles, bags of licorice, cigarette ashes, bottle caps, and various screws.
    “I mean, at least put a tablecloth down; then it’ll have some style around here.”
    Ines laughed too.
    “And I’m sure you’ve got some coasters for the bottles. Not