Your Perfect Year(104)

“Excellent. Staggering up and down the Reeperbahn along with a million other people is my ideal way of spending an evening. You’ll have a blast with a mineral water and slice of lemon, and I’m bound to find the red-haired woman in the seething crowds at Hans Albers Square. Unfortunately, I won’t be falling at her feet at the end, because there’s nothing I hate more in this world than prawns.” He peered at the open page. “Anyway, my friend, you’re looking at the entry for September 22. That’s hardly the day after tomorrow.”

“Careful—sense of humor failure!”

“Have a look at a closer date.”

“I’m on it.”

Leopold leafed back to March 16, and they slowly worked their way forward, heads bent over the book. Every so often, Leopold laughed out loud at an entry that particularly appealed to him.

“Look here. This fits you like a glove: Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become deeds. Watch your deeds; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become your character. Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny. From the Talmud, or so it says here.”

“And how is that relevant to me?”

“Think about it!”

“I have, and I can’t say it’s any clearer.”

“Who said ‘Hmph’ when I suggested you could still become a father?”

“And who was the vagrant who ran off in the middle of the night a few weeks ago with a bunch of bottles?” Jonathan retorted indignantly.

“With the emphasis on ‘was.’”

“Let’s find something else,” Jonathan said before they could descend into another argument.

They had now left April behind—including the particularly morbid instruction on April 1 to write their own funeral eulogy, which Jonathan took for an April Fool’s joke, while Leopold thought it an excellent idea.

“Think about it,” he said again, “All the things you’d especially want to hear at your own funeral! How do you want to have lived, what do you want to have done? What do you regret not having done?”

“Not throwing you into the Isebek Canal,” Jonathan replied through gritted teeth. “Turn the page, will you?”

And then, at last! Finally, finally, finally, they came up with something useful. A specific instruction on May 11: “Go to the shop at Eppendorfer Landstrasse 28c,” Jonathan read with excitement. “Something will be waiting for you there. If you pick it up, you’ll get something else as well.”

“I wonder what that means?”

“We’ll soon find out! We’re going there now. It’s just around the corner.”

“But it’s not May 11 yet!” Leopold objected.

“You sound like the old Jonathan.”

“Huh?”

“The new Jonathan doesn’t care about such things anymore.” He stood and strode off. Leopold followed, matching Jonathan’s purposeful gait only with difficulty.

Ten minutes later, they reached Eppendorfer Landstrasse 28c. They saw with surprise that it was a small jewelry store. They also saw that the store had closed at six; they were seven minutes too late.

“What bad luck!” Jonathan said as he looked for a doorbell. Finding none, he knocked hard on the display window.

“What are you doing?”

“Someone might still be there.”

“Yes,” said Leopold. “The alarm system. And you’ll set it off if you keep bashing at the window like that.”

Jonathan lowered his hand. “You’re right. Even the new Jonathan wouldn’t want to risk that. Let’s come back tomorrow.”

“That wouldn’t do any good.” Leopold indicated the sign on the door. “They’re closed on Saturdays, and won’t be open again until Monday at ten.”

“Damn!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Leopold said matter-of-factly. “If we’re talking about the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, a couple of days won’t make any difference.”

“Ha ha.”

“I can’t help wondering what’s been left here for you. A pair of cuff links?”

“You’re forgetting that it wasn’t actually intended for me.”

“True again. A pair of elegant diamanté earrings, perhaps? I imagine you’d look rather fetching in those.”

“This doesn’t seem like that kind of place.”

They looked at the display, which consisted of a variety of hammered gold and silver pieces. Small signs stated that they were handmade, each one unique. Jonathan didn’t have much idea about jewelry, but he liked them. They were tasteful and refined, not at all the kind of showy bling found in the expensive city-center shops. At the same time, he had to admit (through clenched teeth) that he had often bought such flashy trinkets for Tina in the past. Or sent Renate Krug to buy them.

Tina had given back the jewelry after their divorce, saying she’d never particularly liked the stuff anyway. Well, Jonathan thought cynically, she was saved from such tasteless impositions now, since Thomas probably showered her with plastic imitations from gumball machines.

Get your act together! he told himself. He thought he’d at last put all that behind him on the bench by the Isebek Canal, leaving himself well balanced and at peace as he considered his new life and the realization that his divorce was more a matter of wounded pride than a broken heart.