Love Is Pink!

“Papa, you forgot my apple pie. She ate that, too,” Emma added.

I felt my cheeks flush and no longer knew where to look. To make the nightmare even more complete, a small burp escaped my mouth at that very moment.

Emma clapped with delight. “You liked it, Michelle! I told you so!”

David obviously noticed how embarrassed I was and decided to rescue me. As though nothing had happened, he pushed himself up with both hands and said, “I’ll bring you another apple pie, Emma. And I think Michelle and I will need a coffee now.”

“A coffee would be perfect,” I answered faintly, not daring to look up. “But without sugar, please—”

“And with low-fat milk, I know,” David finished as he walked away.

While her father stood at the counter, Emma and I played with the silly little toys that served as advertising bait for the food. The spring-loaded plastic figures hopped amusingly across the table, and Emma and I had fun goofing around with them.

Soon, David was back, and a steaming hot coffee sat before me. Emma bit into her apple pie. She declared it too hot, put it down, and said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

David got up immediately, but Emma grabbed his arm. “No, Papa, you’re not allowed in there. I’m going with Michelle. She’s a girl, like me.”

This was really the last thing that I wanted to do in life—accompany a five-year-old to the toilet. I was about to say something when I looked into Emma’s expectant eyes.

“Of course,” I heard a voice say. “Let’s go to the bathroom.” The voice was mine.

Emma’s small, greasy fingers—full of salt from the fries and sticky from all the other unspeakable stuff—closed around my hand and pulled me along. Just as we reached the restroom, the door opened. A young lady came out. She looked at Emma and me, and a smile came over her face. “What a charming daughter you have. A real petit chou!”

I thanked her with a nod. And I was almost sure that I let her believe I was Emma’s mother simply out of politeness.





10


The night, the cold, and the snow had us in their grips again. The Citro?n droned unremittingly as we pressed on. Emma had chattered animatedly for the first few minutes, but, soon after, exhaustion got the better of her and she fell asleep.

So that she wouldn’t freeze, I took off my ski jacket and lay it over her. The sweater I was wearing was warm enough, and the car’s heater was functioning rather well.

The snow had started again, and a white wall enveloped us.

“We can’t keep driving in this weather tonight,” David said. “We’d better look for a hotel.”

I sighed. “I’m sure it’ll be difficult for you to find an appropriate one.”

He glanced at me before focusing on the road again.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, because you really don’t have that much money,” I said.

I could see the muscles in his cheeks tighten.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,” I added, even though that did not at all correspond with my true opinion on the matter. “Look for a place just for you and Emma. I can sleep in the car.”

“You’d do that?”

I pretended to be interested in the view through the windshield. “I’ll just get some warm things out of my suitcases. I’ll manage somehow.”

David moved the stick shift lever next to the steering wheel. The gear put up a fight, then the car moved forward dutifully.

“We’ll see,” David said, falling silent. All that remained were the sounds of the engine and the one functioning windshield wiper.

I enjoyed gliding through the darkness without knowing exactly where we were going. I also enjoyed the quiet. With Valentin, I talked constantly. Mostly because he was a highly intelligent conversation partner. But David and I experienced these pauses, which in no way seemed unpleasant or embarrassing. Strange.

We drove past three hotels that seemed too fancy. Then we came upon a two-story house with a modest sign promising an overnight stay with breakfast.

“Shall we try here?” David asked.

I murmured approvingly as we pulled up in front of the entrance.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, climbing out of the still-running car. He rang the doorbell. Just when I thought no one would answer, the door swung in and an older man appeared. David exchanged a few words with him and entered the house. It wasn’t too long before he came back. He summoned me with a wave.

I turned off the engine, and it stopped with a predictable bang. I pulled out the key and stepped out of the car to join David.

“Take Emma upstairs with you,” he said.

“I can easily stay downstairs.”

“No, no,” he said, breezing past me. “We got the last room. It’s a family room. Three beds. I’ll get the suitcases.”

I opened the car’s rear door as quietly as possible. I carefully grabbed hold of Emma and picked her up, making sure that she stayed wrapped in my ski jacket.