Jamie arrived 10 minutes too early, which shifted me into absolute panic, because I still stood at the stove with the cook spoon in my hand, the frayed short Jeans and my ‘At-home-feel-fine-shirt’, I was straight on the way in the bedroom in order to change, when she rang at the doorbell. Jamie held a merrily multicolored bouquet at the long stretched arm towards me, in the other hand a bottle of red wine. “I hope you like flowers?” “Thanks, very much. I’m sorry, I did not change yet.” “That’s okay, you look sweet nevertheless.” This compliment was nonplussing to me. “I have to apologize, because I am too early. I did not intent to confound your planning.” “You didn’t.” “Why don’t you simply go to change, while I will open the bottle meanwhile?” “Yes, the screw is in the second drawer from downside, glasses are top left in the cupboard. I‘ll be back in an instant.” “Just take your time.”

There I was standing now in front of the large ‘empty’ wardrobe and in my kitchen the first woman for over two years, which entered this house – well, except Dana and the others – and in my belly it prickled, as if it would be my first time and that although I did not even know whether there would be anything happening at all. I decided for something casual, something in which I was able to breathe, in which I would feel neither naked nor constricted.
When I returned from the bedroom, Jamie stood right in front of the sideboard and looked at the painting with a woman. “You like it?” Without looking at me, gazing straight ahead on the painting, Jamie handed me a glass of wine,” “I’m not sure yet.” “It is the favorite painting of Bette.” “Bette? Who is Bette?” “Oh, sorry, Bette is my ex. I thought I told you of her.” “No, you haven’t. Is this her house?” “Our house, it belongs to us both.” “And where is she now?” “That’s a long story.” “Well, I don’t intend to leave that soon. She left the house to you?” “Well, not directly. She disappeared simply over night more than two years ago. She packed a few things together, got into her car and drove off. I don’t know where to, I haven’t heard anything from her since then.” “And you still live here nevertheless?” “As said, it is our house. At the beginning I thought of course Bette would return one day, just as fast and quietly as she went away. Then I stopped waiting and thought: Why should I give up everything here, it’s my home. I always felt comfortable and safe here. And it wouldn’t be any good for anyone if I gave up the house now. I can’t sell it, because it belongs to Bette too and for hire, no, the idea never came up to me.” “However you left everything the way it used to be already more than two years ago, haven’t you?” “Yes, I have. But there’s a lot of me put in here. I furnished it, brought my fantasies in, all this here is also me.” “And everything here is a memory of your life with Bette.” Jamie was right, but I couldn’t and didn’t want to admit. To confess was the conceivably most unfavorable way for me to arrange the evening nicely and perhaps also romantic. „Believe me, Jamie, Bette’s spirit has not been floating around here for a long time. Don’t bother.” “Sure?” Unbelievable, but I looked in Jamie’s eyes, completely firm and consistently, and lied to her in a convincing way. “Yes, sure.”