* * *
He noticed right away that Charlotte had bought new perfume on her trip. He couldn't figure out if the dominant scent was jasmine or orange blossoms. She looked good, fit. They hugged and he kissed her on the cheek. She laughed at his bloodshot eyes, and he told her he'd been out with the guys from his office and they had forced him to do shots. She stroked his cheek. He sped up. It looked like it was going to be nice weather. They talked about how he needed to cut the grass, and about their mutual friends who were coming for dinner and would stay overnight. They decided to make curried lamb with the meat they had in the freezer.
She had bought new sheets in London. Sateen. And three pairs of shoes. The show had gone well for her. He turned up the soft, ambient music, she stopped talking and relaxed. Suddenly he remembered that the woman had been wearing a garter belt. Now he remembered that he had stripped her panties off her. It was going to be a wonderful Easter. Their brother and his children might come on Sunday. Then he'll hide Easter eggs in the garden and be fun and avuncular. He smiled and looked for his sunglasses. The sky was cloudless and the spring light was so bright it almost blinded him.
* * *
That evening they got cozy on the futon couch with their blankets. She had made cardamom tea. He watched the news on three different stations, she read magazines. They gossiped about their mother and laughed. He felt tired and warm.
The next morning he went for a run on the beach. There was nearly no wind. The sand was wet from the rain during the night. He enjoyed the cold salt air, he felt strong and at ease and decided to sprint the final leg; lyme grass and sand as far as the eye could see.
* * *
When he got back, Charlotte was setting out lunch on the patio. He did his exercises on a yoga mat in the hallway, stretching at the wall bar. They ate. He put more logs in the fireplace. She hummed in the kitchen while kneading dough. He rested. Then he went to cut the grass. The neighbor looked over the fence and greeted them. Charlotte waved from the kitchen; now she had a towel on her head and her face was covered with a white facial mask. She looked like a clown. When he was finished with the lawn he drank a cold beer. It's useless to rake up clippings when they're wet. Then they started to make dinner, and at six o'clock Stine and Jakob arrived with Emily in a bassinet. They both knew Jakob from elementary school, and he had also gone to high school with him. Charlotte had hung small gold and silver eggs from a bouquet of birch branches. The meal was well prepared and the wine, delicious. The women talked about Charlotte's boutique and how difficult it was to find a good au pair. He told Jakob that he had to hire two casting directors for a new TV show on homes of the rich and famous. Jakob asked if people weren't tired of such programs but he said that they'd found a whole new spin on the subject. At around midnight, when Stine and Jakob retired to the guest wing, Charlotte also went to bed. He relaxed in the living room with a glass of cognac and noticed the light from the kitchen pouring out the open door onto the wall bar in the entryway, illuminating it so that it shone, red and warm. And suddenly he saw Maja, his ex-girlfriend, leaning against it, one evening when she had been lying seductively on the bed, but he had wanted to take her standing. And so she held onto the wall bar with both hands, and it was only because his thigh muscles were so strong that they could do it in that position. The thought had crossed his mind right before he came, and was maybe even part of the pleasure. He laughed at the thought, emptied his glass, and got up to do the dishes.
* * *
The next morning was the first time he noticed the mosquito bite. It itched on his left buttock. He must have gotten it when he was cutting the grass. They waved good-bye to Stine and Jakob and went for a long walk. Charlotte said that it was so wonderful to take time off. She really needed it, moving the shop to a better and larger location had really taken its toll on her. She looked sweet in her green rain jacket, like when they were children. He could smell himself. They went through the pine forest, where it was dark and slate gray, the dampness rose from the ground, Charlotte looked at him and said something, but her eyes had changed to dark holes, she looked like a skeleton, he thought, stopping to take a piss.
In the evening he noticed there was an opening in the mosquito bite. He had obviously scratched it. It was Saturday. They watched a movie and drank the rest of the wine. Charlotte fell asleep during it, snoring lightly with her mouth open. Suddenly he remembered that the woman with the shiny boots had rolled a joint in bed. But he still couldn't remember if they'd had sex. He shook his head, irritated.
* * *
But the bite was really tender and swollen when he showered on Sunday morning. He got Charlotte to look at it. She washed it with some rubbing alcohol and he winced and she said he was a baby and slapped his behind; he pretended to faint, then sprang up and howled like a wild animal and she hunted him down through the house; they laughed. A horn sounded in the driveway loud and long, then the door opened and Pete, their brother, sauntered into the living room, ruddycheeked and loud. The children had already run out to the yard to climb the trees. He went outside to bring them in for lunch, one in each arm, both of them squirming and squealing with delight.
They had herring and schnapps. Charlotte made an effort to be friendly to the children. But they were out of control, running from the table constantly, peeling the painted eggs, knocking over a beer, crawling up on his lap and pulling at his beard. He thought it was pleasant to have a little warm kid sitting on his lap, but Charlotte was clearly not amused. As she used to say, she didn't like children, and now she looked obviously put off. In contrast, Peter didn't seem to notice the commotion. He talked about the divorce, getting himself all worked up, until finally he was forced to signal to him that children with their big ears were nearby. Charlotte got up and helped them into their jackets and they ran right out and started throwing the newly cut grass at each other. As Peter was talking, he realized that he'd never hid Easter eggs. If he left right now, maybe he'd still be able to buy some. But he didn't feel like it, and it really didn't matter now. Peter poured some more schnapps. He'd always been so damned impulsive. He was never in control of anything. And now his wife had had enough. Peter's eyes looked wild, he pushed his chair back, stretched his legs, and hit the table with his fist, "It's fucking bullshit that she'll only let me see the children on the weekends!" And then at last it came out that she'd already met someone else. To top it all off, it was an old geezer with a shitload of money, as he put it. Charlotte seemed like she was going to give him a lecture, then suddenly she looked bored. She went into the kitchen to make coffee. The mosquito bite was fucking painful now. He felt around and noticed a large bump. It had evidently not helped to clean it. Peter calmed down, then began to cry. Charlotte came in the door rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she was drying a green glass bowl. He promised that he would try to help Peter find a better apartment. Maybe there was someone in the office who knew of something. He'd make a few calls. Peter blew his nose in the napkin. Then the children came bursting in completely covered in wet grass and mud.
* * *
In the middle of the night he woke up feeling miserable. His buttock was throbbing. He woke up Charlotte, who reluctantly got out of bed and turned on the light. She could see that there was an infection and the bump was hard and red. "It looks like it's turning into a boil," she said, yawning. Then he made her get a pin, hold it in the flame of the gas burner, and prick a hole in it. She pressed out the puss, shouting, "Yuck, disgusting!" He clenched his jaw. She told him he could get some aspirin in the bathroom, and then she turned off the light. The next day they cleaned and locked up the house. He carried their bags out to the car and closed the trunk. A blackbird belted its song from the tall birch tree near the driveway, and he caught sight of a whole bunch of snowdrops shining white on the wet black ground. An unusual feeling of loss, emptiness, sadness — he couldn't put his finger on it — welled up in him. But there was also joy. The blackbird, the flowers, and the sun, which was already low in the gray sky, hidden behind passing clouds. Then Charlotte came out and began to talk about how he should hire a man to lay the paving stones she had ordered for him from Italy. "You'll enjoy the house more if you have a proper terrace," she said. When he got home there was a message from their mother. She really wanted to see them on Easter, but maybe next week? He erased the message and put on the Red Hot Chili Peppers, turning it up and opening the door to the roof terrace. The gold cupola atop the tower of the Church of Our Savior shone dimly in the dusk light. His buttock throbbed. It'll pass, he said to himself, it's nothing, it'll soon pass. Then he took a shower, got dressed, and went down to the local bar and got a couple of pints of draught beer, and his spirits quickly lifted talking to the bartender and some guys from a rival production company, and then he saw Heidi come in the door, loaded, accompanied by a fat girlfriend, and this suited him because the last time they were together was wonderful. So he got up from his rivals' table and shouted, "Hey gorgeous!" and she threw her arms around his neck. He could smell the liquor on her breath, an angel must've sent you.