Yes, yes, Anna mollified her friend. Big surprise. She gave Mary a mechanical hug of thanks and then talked herself silently through the situation. Okay, Anna, you can manage this. It’s been a good, good day. I can manage this. I can be thankful for this.
Anna scanned the room. Ursula was there as well as Daniela and David, Margrith and Hans and their daughter Suzanne and her husband Guido, neither of whom Anna knew well but who until last year had lived in the cottage behind Hans’s barn with their three little girls, who had also come to the party. Bruno and Anna’s neighbors Monika and Beat were there and Edith and Otto as well. Most of the people from Anna’s German class including Nancy and Ed and the Australian couple she rarely spoke to and the French lady who always smoked during break and the Asians who kept to themselves and who had, in fact, never once uttered a conversant word to Anna had come to the house. And Roland. And Archie. And Karl.
A FACE SEEN OUT of context creates confusion. And most paranoiacs have reason to be.
14
IT’S TRUE: A FACE SEEN OUT OF CONTEXT CREATES CONFUSION. A momentary blip of disorientation. Transitory befuddlement. Personal perception is called into question. Like being in a bar when a priest and a rabbi actually walk in. Is this a joke? you ask yourself. The answer is yes. The answer is no. The answer is both.
Is this a joke? Anna asked herself. Nearly every person in her house that night was divorced from his or her circumstance. Anna’s bearings faltered as the floor beneath her tried to shift and she fought the onslaught of a literal swoon. Mary beamed. She was pleased with herself and still under the impression that when Anna had said Do nothing for my birthday what she really meant was I want you to throw me a party. A blush rose from Anna’s chest to her face. “I know you said you didn’t want a fuss, but really it was no trouble at all!” Mary waited for a response. Anna offered a weak, tactful smile. “And I wanted to do this! You’re my best friend!”
Mary drew Anna into the living room and put a paper crown on her head. It was pink and sparkly, made for a child. Anna immediately removed it. Bruno shook hands with the men he knew and before long, Bruno, Guido, Otto, Beat, David, and Karl had beers in their hands and were moving toward the door. When they passed Anna, each wished her happy birthday and gave her a quick hug and the customary three-cheek kiss. When Karl came in for his Anna hissed into his ear, Why are you here? To which Karl responded, “She invited Daniela and David and they invited me.” Bruno led the group outside, the children following along. Edith sidled up to Anna and handed her a glass of sparkling wine.
She smirked. “This is rare, Anna.” Anna was inclined to agree. Anna downed the champagne in two quick swallows and handed the glass back to Edith with a face that read Now go and get me a real drink. Edith laughed her Edith laugh and slid away into the kitchen.
A moment later she returned with a Scotch. Anna sipped it. The whiskey was peaty and smooth. “Where’d this come from?” She didn’t need to ask.
“He brought it.” Edith gestured toward the other side of the room where Archie stood with Roland and Ed. Anna started to say something but thought better of it. Edith, too, opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the arrival of Mary. Anna introduced them. Mary and Edith were, respectively, effusive and detached. This was not unexpected, but at the moment, Anna didn’t have the heart to referee disputing personalities. She excused herself under the pretense of wanting to change out of the clothes she’d worn on the boat ride and slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaving Mary and Edith to discover how little they had in common all on their own.
Anna found a nicer sweater and changed into it. She checked her face—it was still flushed. I’ll blame it on the Scotch, Anna thought, and then, reexamining herself, This will have to do. A knock on the door startled her, “Who is it?”
“It’s Arch.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Anna huffed to the door, jerked it open, and yanked him inside.
“Anna—,” Archie started, but Anna held up her hand.
“Why are you here?”
“Mary invited me.” Mary was every present problem’s lynchpin. “It would have seemed odd if I hadn’t shown up.”
“Really, Archie?” Anna said. “Go tell that to my tall Swiss husband with his beefy Swiss friends getting drunk in my Swiss front yard.” Anna couldn’t stop saying the word “Swiss” but she didn’t know why. Anna was angry. She had worked very hard to keep her secret life—lives—separate. “I need to get back.” Anna opened the door and shoved past him into the hall. Am I the only one my secrets make sense to? Anna asked herself before remembering that she was the only one who knew the secrets in the first place.