Maggie began scratching herself all over. Her eyes bulged and she said very quietly, “Heroin is my love, my one true love. Not Tom. Not my family, even. No one can tell me what not to love. Didn’t you say that to me, Tante Eva?”
What could Eva say? Eva fumbled in her purse for a sleeping pill, just one, to calm her nerves. She quickly swallowed it, without any water, dry and chalky in her throat. She wanted to say, Then why did you call her and not me? Why did you call her? “You tell the cab where to go, if that’s what you need to do.”
Twenty minutes later, Eva found herself in Kreuzberg, outside a building not unlike the one Maggie and Tom lived in, just busier, drug addicts coming and going. She waited in the cab while her niece bought drugs. She’s an ingrate, thought Eva. My niece, who thinks so much of me, who has some of the socialist spirit, is really a spoiled and ungrateful child, thought Eva, as she watched the sad, stumbling people come and go, the door always opening and closing, opening and closing.
Chapter 29
It had been nearly three decades, or longer—Eva’s mind began to hum with panic that she wasn’t quite sure; how was it she wasn’t sure?—since she’d seen Liezel. Now, in this fancy hotel lobby on the Ku’damm, Eva waited nervously. It was far earlier than she usually woke, never mind actually being somewhere. She was so anxious she almost didn’t feel tired. The receptionist had called up to Liezel’s room; she was coming down. Eva wore the red dress and had carefully applied lipstick. But she was sweating from nerves, and she felt she could smell herself. Maybe she’d put on too much cologne, but at least it might cover up her smell, the smell of fear.
Why fear? On the one hand, it seemed natural. It had been so long, it was just a big moment. But on the other hand, it seemed wrong. This was her sister. Her sister. Eva began humming to herself that Billie Holiday song she liked, “Long Gone Blues.”
“Talking to yourself!” Liezel was there suddenly.
Eva stood. There she was, immediately with the criticism, pretending it was all in good fun. They hugged, and then it was all so sudden, the feel of her body, how it was the same body and yet different, very much older. The hug was tight but trembly. It was awkwardly long. Eva wasn’t sure when to let go, so she decided to wait for Liezel to. Finally, they looked, really looked, at each other. Liezel was middle-aged. Her eyes were the same brown doe eyes, but so much harder. How could this happen? Eva patted her own hair, all the nerves in her body lit.
“I was humming a song. From a record Maggie gave me.” Eva began laughing nervously. She covered her mouth, self-conscious of her nervousness, the feeding cycle of it all. She was nervous, then ashamed of being nervous, which made her do things that made her feel more nervous. Her sister was still beautiful, but her mouth had deep creases and her hair was gray. Eva wondered why she didn’t color it. That seemed odd, to not color your gray hair. Especially in America, where coloring your hair must be easy, like everything else. Like buying food, and driving a car, and having a big house.
Liezel was wearing a soft cotton blouse and thin wool trousers, both in subdued grays. Eva immediately felt loud. Her dress was loud. She’d done it again, thought things through the wrong way. She thought the dress would make her feel glamorous. But it was her sister who was glamorous, in her subtle, fine fabrics.
“Let’s have a coffee, Eva. You look great. I love your dress.”
She followed her sister into the dining room at the hotel. The tables were set with white linen, and waiters in vests and bow ties walked around. Eva couldn’t help but be excited to sit here, in this lovely place. She had brought some money, but she was hoping Liezel would pay.
The menu was small and very expensive. Even more expensive than Café Einstein.
“I feel I should ask all about you, but I really want to talk about Maggie,” Liezel said.
“You don’t need to ask all about me,” said Eva. “My life is very simple. So there wouldn’t be so much to say. Talk to me about Maggie.”
“She claims she won’t come back. Maybe you could help me convince her otherwise. She immediately has to disagree with anything I say. She has to make it look like she doesn’t need me. And believe me, I wish she didn’t. I had a child at her age. What is it with young people these days? It’s as if they stay teenagers their whole lives.”
“She’s a good girl, too. She’s not all bad.”
“She’s a drug addict.”
“Yes, but she’ll leave Tom, I think. I don’t think she’ll be taking him back.” Eva immediately thought of Hans and then banished the thought. She looked around the beautiful room. Mozart played gently in the background. Liezel stared at her.
“You knew.” Her sister’s face burned slightly. Anger, thought Eva. How it makes us glow. Like when we make love.
“You knew, Liezel. I want to help with Maggie. I want to help Maggie and help you. At first, I just had my suspicions and they weren’t strong enough to risk saying something that could or could not be true.”
“Okay,” Liezel said. “I’m sorry. I’m just so frustrated.”
Eva looked at her baby sister and saw her for what she was; an angry, desperate woman in middle age. Dry-skinned, jowly with worry, a life that hadn’t turned out as it should’ve. A
