Page 128 of Just Like Starting Over
We head to the hostess station and I add the reservations she’s requested. She bookmarks our website on her phone as I’m expressing my thanks for her business.
Elke takes a breath, squaring her shoulders. “And now we talk, while Michael is not here to blush.”
I smile and gesture to an empty table.
She sits and taps her nails on the table when I don’t sit. “Do not think this is easy for me. I had ideas from the moment I met Michael Cavendish, very appealing ideas, and they only became stronger the more I knew him. He is a good man.”
I have no idea where she’s going with this, so I just listen.
She gives me a look. “I tried, oh many times, to turn his thoughts in certain directions, but Michael was always a gentleman.” She indicates the seat opposite her and this time, I sit.
“You love Mike,” I say.
“And it is of no relevance, for admiration unreturned must be forgotten. Or at least ignored.” She smiles at me. “But I must tell you all of it. I was frustrated by his good manners, so finally I bought him schnapps. It was our first year of studying together. It was Christmas. He was leaving for Canada the next day and I feared he would not come back. I took my chance. I invited him to my apartment, certain I would succeed in making him forget to be a gentleman.” She shakes her head. “But Michael, he is not accustomed to schnapps, not even as I am, and he became drunk too fast.”
I know that Mike isn’t a big drinker and smile.
She raises her hands. “You would think a man of such size would have capacity, but no, not Michael.” She holds up two fingers. “We have two schnapps, I am feeling warm and amorous, and he falls asleep.”
Her outrage is so clear that I smile despite myself.
She drops her voice. “My little sister can drink more schnapps than this.”
I believe it.
Elke nods. “And then he talks. He does not make sense, not at first, but he talks and he talks and soon enough I understand. There is a woman who broke his heart, a woman he loved who left him, a woman he has lost forever. I could hear the violins. Such anguish.” She pauses for a moment, considering me with sparkling eyes. “Oh, to be this woman! To be this woman named Sylvia.”
I am so pleased by this story that I doubt I can hide it.
“Oh yes. I have despised you and I apologize for that. Even then, so many years ago, Michael was in love. And so, when I come here this time and his eyes light when he sees you, I know that you are not just any Sylvia. You arethisSylvia.”
“Schnapps Sylvia,” I say.
She leans closer. “You areMichael’sSylvia. Even when you were gone from his life, I could not compete with you. I am too smart to even try to do so when you are right here, perhaps even in his bed.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“I like the girl,” she says quietly. “I see Michael in her, but also you.”
“I’m proud of her.”
“You should be. She is clever like Michael but has a warmth that I think must come from you.” To my surprise, Elke offers her hand. “And so, we shall be friends, united in our admiration for Michael. If ever there is anything I can do to add to his happiness, you must tell me.”
I slip my hand into the cool strength of hers and she gives it a crisp shake. “I’d like that,” I say, only realizing that it is true when the words leave my lips.
She lifts a brow. “And if ever you break his heart again, you must promise to send him to me for consolation. I will take, as they say, crumbs from the table, and be glad of it.” She smiles but it’s a sad smile.
“I didn’t mean to break his heart.” I don’t want to do it again.
“I know. The child explains all. I understand.” She nods and stands, her manner brisk. “And so, I will be here in Canada each summer as is always the way, and you will not be fearful of my presence. We are allies, Sylvia.”
“Yes. Thank you, Elke.”
She smiles at me and I smile back, my heart squeezing tightly. “I have ordered a system from Holland for the small greenhouse to control the temperature and the water flow. It will be a good test case for us and should arrive Monday. Is the bistro open then? Will I be able to come and install it?”
“I’ll be here Monday. In my studio upstairs.”
Her brows rise. “Ah! You are an artist?”
