Falling Walls (III)

Chapter 24

"You should get dressed," Tom coquettishly grinned in my direction, wearing only a blue bath towel around his waist. Single drops of water dripped occasionally from his hair, making his torso glimmer under the bedroom light.
"Get dressed for what?" I was dressed. After returning home I put on some more comfortable clothes but I wasn't aware of any further plans.
"The talk."
The talk? Did he really think I'd leave the kids home alone? Alone in an apartment they have never been in? In a city they don't know? But then I noticed the hint of a suppressed grin play on his cheeks and I knew he was joking.
In response, I raised my brows at him.
"What?"
"What?"
"You what? Sam, Emma?" Now that grin spread wide over Tom's face.
"They can go down to Jan and he's going to keep an eye on them," he finally gave in.
"Are you sure," I clarified. "I know you're not keen on going. We can skip it. That's fine. Really."
"And I know how much you want to go. So we'll go."

I'm not sure what changed Tom's opinion on wanting to go. I had thought he'd take the first opportunity to bail. But what surprised me even more was that I didn't feel like going anymore. It was like there was no real point in it. But I had spent so much time persuading Tom to come along and he had organised that evening, that I couldn't say no anymore.

I jumped in the shower and put on some jeans and a blouse. After dinner with the twins and Jan, Tom and I made our way to the library we had only two days earlier passed. My heart beat loud and clearly, and I was certain if you'd only look closely enough, one could actually see it's outline beat against my blouse. Tom occasionally looked over at me from the driver seat with an expression I couldn't quite place. Was it a smile, was it pity or worry?

"This is for work, Lisa. It will be interesting. But it has nothing to do with me. You know that, right?"
"I know." There was enough evidence to know that. "I'm just excited. What this woman has been through. I just can't imagine."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The meeting room was more than half-full. I had never attended a Meet the Author session, so I didn't really know what to expect. We sat down on the aisle in one of the middle rows of the moon shaped seating arrangement. My eyes were fixed on the empty chair and desk at the front, sweeping over to the banner showcasing Eva holding her book. For a moment I wondered if her primary goal was still to spread the message about her son, or if maybe it all had become more of a matter of profit and advertising her newest book, which featured not only her own story, but also those of other victims of the socialist state. Someone in the row in front of me whispered to their neighbour that they had heard Eva's friend Mandy, who had lost her child through forced adoption shortly before Eva lost Max, was attending the evenings session. Why would she continue publishing new books? Wasn't one enough? As a mother, however, I couldn't imagine that and I immediately felt ashamed for just thinking it. As if anyone could read my mind I looked around with a, I was sure, fire red head.

A librarian in her fifties, I assumed, stepped forward and announced Eva's entrance by giving a short introduction to Eva's life story, her personal and work achievements. While my eyes were fixed on her, I felt Tom's hand gently and protectively close around mine, coming to a rest on my lap.

The fading applause of the audience announced Eva's entrance. With long strides and confidence she walked towards the desk, looking into the crowd, giving a small nod and smile to someone in the front row. I wondered if she had just spotted her friend Mandy.
If I wouldn't have known her story, I would never have guessed the tragedy this woman has lived through. This woman was elegant, powerful and vibrant. Only when she stood in front of the desk, choosing to lean against the brown table instead of sitting behind it, tuning in on the crowd, I believed to notice the sadness hidden behind her eyes.

My hand felt hot now in Tom's, and a feeling of numbness began to spread out. Wriggling my hand free, I placed it on top of Tom's. I was solely focused on Eva, and only felt his second hand close in on mine again from the top, his thumb stroking over my skin in small circles.

"Good evening everyone, and thank you so much for coming," Eva greeted the guests, her voice warm but strong. It was obvious that she had done this many times before. Eva began her talk filling the recount of her journey to Hamburg with a number of anecdotes which made the audience giggle more for appropriateness than their actual jocularity. Her own face didn't show any more amusement than a grin. As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished from her face and was replaced by a serious impression. "Most of you may have heard about my story. Maybe you have even read one of my books and are familiar with the tragedy I found myself facing. My latest publication goes beyond my personal experiences."

I had been entirely immersed in Eva's words that I couldn't tell when Tom's finger had stopped circling on the top of my hand. While Eva continued introducing her book to the audience, I risked a glace at Tom and wished immediately I hadn't. His head was leaning back against the head rest of his chair and his eyes were closed. I didn't think he was fully sleeping but was getting annoyed about his rudeness. My annoyance only lasted five seconds or so, until Tom's eyes opened. They opened wider and were more focused than I had ever seen them. They were zoomed in on Eva. His chest heaved heavily up and down from his deep breaths. I was no longer listening to Eva.

"Are you okay?" I whispered to Tom, freeing my hand from his and placing it protectively onto his shoulder. Tom didn't answer. He flinched, then turned his head, stared at me with the same wide eyes before focusing them back to the front. When I followed his gaze, I noticed that Eva was staring back in our direction. She stopped talking the minute that Tom stumbled from his chair into the aisle, walking with hasty strides towards the exit. Concerned, I followed Tom, mumbling an embarrassed apology which most likely nobody would have heard. I could already imagine the newspaper headlines the next day.