Enchanted in Time (Enchanted After Thirty #1)

Chapter 5

5

T he day flew by in a flash. Doing the laundry, tidying up the kitchen, cleaning the bathroom, dusting, cooking, tidying up the kitchen again, vacuuming, settling the children’s squabbles in between it all, folding laundry... Then an hour at the playground amid loud grumbling from Marco, who would have liked to stay home alone, except that Hannah had insisted he come along so he could get some fresh air. Practicing reading with Emi, and, finally, a game of Memory on the living room rug.

Just after five thirty, just as Hannah had collapsed onto the couch with a cup of coffee and put up her feet, the doorbell rang. Exhausted from the day, Hannah groaned. Who would be coming over now?

“Frieda!” Emi and Leon cried simultaneously, leaping up from their third game of Memory.

Hannah rolled her eyes and forced herself to get up. She trudged behind her two youngest children as she made her way over to the door. Yawning, she opened it—and froze.

There before her stood Frieda with a huge smile on her pointy, mouselike face and her half-moon glasses peeking out from beneath her curly gray locks. And there it was, draped across her outstretched arms. The dress.

It was a dream in warm, soft reds. The upper part was designed with a Carmen neckline. The waist was narrow and the skirt wide and swinging. The dream dress consisted of several layers of fine material overlaid with a berry-red lace fabric. It looked as if it had been created for a member of the royal family.

Hannah stared at the dress in disbelief and cautiously felt the material. “What is this? Silk? There’s no way you put this together from my old scraps.”

Frieda shrugged. “Oh, I still had a bit of this and that in my old clothing trunks. Do you like it?”

“Oh, Mommy, it looks like it was made for a real princess!”

Hannah gulped. Emi was right. The dress was absolutely gorgeous.

“You need to try it on now, Mrs. Meyer, in case I still have to adjust it.” And without further ado, Frieda shoved her way past Hannah and into the apartment.

Caught by surprise, Hannah stood still in front of the open door. How had her neighbor managed that? Not even a state-of-the-art dressmaker’s shop with multiple employees could have made a gown like that in so little time! She must have already had it. It had to have been in one of the clothing trunks she’d mentioned, and when Hannah had made the deal with her children that morning, Frieda must have already known about the dress and not told her.

“Mrs. Meyer, kindly shut the door—there’s a draft. We’re running out of time.”

Emi came running up, slammed the door, and pulled her mom into the bedroom. Frieda had already spread the dress out on the bed, and lying beside it was a small pouch sewn from the same material, with room for Hannah’s cell phone, keys, and some tissues.

Frieda was holding a little bag with needles and thread. “Come now, Mrs. Meyer, you need to get dressed. The coach will be here in less than two hours.”

“I’m not going to any ball!”

“Mommy!” Emi stood in front of her mother and made herself as tall as possible. “We made a deal. If Frieda brings you the dress, you’ll go to the ball.”

“A promise is a promise!” Leon added in his high little voice.

Hannah rolled her eyes. How could she get herself out of this mess? Well, maybe the dress wouldn’t fit her at all and Frieda wouldn’t be able to make the adjustments in time. Satisfied, Hannah nodded. That was extremely likely. She reached for the dress and disappeared behind the folding screen.

“Just call if you need help, Mrs. Meyer.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Hannah removed her jeans and shirt, slipped her socks off her feet, and gingerly stepped into the evening gown. She pulled it up over her shoulders. The material literally slid onto her body as though, by putting on this dress, she had slipped on a new skin. It was an indescribable feeling. She gently stroked the ball gown and smiled. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of feeling special. All dressed up. And precious.

“Let me help you with that zipper!” Frieda came trundling up behind the screen and pulled the zipper shut. “Fits like a glove! Come, Mrs. Meyer, come stand in front of the mirror.”

Hannah slowly came out from behind the screen and had to laugh when she saw Emi’s and Leon’s astonished faces. She stopped in front of the standing mirror, and then her jaw dropped as well.

The red dress fit as if it had been especially made for her—as if she’d had it custom-made. The Carmen neckline clung to her décolleté and ended in wide straps that extended over her shoulders. The gown was smooth along the waist and across her flat stomach, without a single wrinkle, as if the dressmaker had known what she had eaten that day. And the skirt puffed out from the hips to a fullness that she’d seen in older fairy-tale books. The outer lace fabric lay softly over the silken material and gave the gown the needed finishing touch.

“Frieda, where did you get this dress?”

“I told you. I made it for you.”

Hannah looked at her neighbor in disbelief. That clearly could not be true, but she didn’t probe any further. Maybe the dress was connected to a memory that Frieda would rather not reveal. Unlike her neighbor, Hannah knew exactly when to let someone have their privacy.

Emi came closer and stroked the delicate fabric excitedly. “Mommy, you look like a real princess!”

“You look so beautiful!” Leon agreed.

Curious, Marco also came shuffling up and peeked into the bedroom. His eyes widened on catching sight of his mother. “Wow, Mom, not bad. A little cheesy, but otherwise...”

“Thanks, big guy.” Hannah winked at him.

“So are you actually going to the ball?”

“I...”

“She promised!” Leon and Emi immediately started to whine.

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“Mrs. Meyer, if I may just say something?”

“Since when do you feel the need to ask for permission?”

Frieda chuckled as she raised her forefinger. “Now, Mrs. Meyer, please listen to me. Someone has gone to exceptional trouble to send you this enchanting invitation. If a coach should arrive at your door later on as well, you should not be so impolite as to ignore all this.”

Hannah was listening. “You’re not trying to set me up, are you, Frieda?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Mrs. Meyer. I’m merely here to help.”

The elderly neighbor’s smile seemed genuine, and Hannah sighed in resignation. She had made a promise to her children. And if there was one ironclad rule for this household and her parenting style, it was this: if we make a promise, we keep it. There was always a chance that the coach would fail to show.

“I’ll take a quick shower, and then I’ll try my hand at an updo. I haven’t done one of those in ages, but I’m sure I can find a tutorial or video on the web.”

“No need to worry, Mrs. Meyer, I shall take care of it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hannah stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from her shower. Wrapped in her bathrobe, she sat down on the chair that Frieda set out for her. Frieda, meanwhile, was already equipped with a comb, brush, hairpins, and Hannah’s antiquated curling iron.

Emi and Leon were sitting nearby on the bed and observing Frieda’s every move. “Where did you learn all this, Frieda?” asked Emi.

“Oh, I couldn’t really tell you anymore. But I will tell you one thing, my angel: no matter what time period they lived in, women have always liked to make themselves pretty.”

Emi nodded as if she already knew what her elderly neighbor meant. She had gotten her barrettes and headbands and was putting one after the other in her hair. Even Leon ended up wearing a pair of barrettes.

Frieda carefully brushed Hannah’s long hair, which was already showing a few gray strands. They weren’t obvious among her dark-blonde hairs, which was why Hannah hadn’t yet felt the need to color it. But it wouldn’t be long before she would have to give in.

Hopefully her elderly neighbor wouldn’t give her an embarrassingly old-fashioned hairstyle. Nervous, Hannah attempted to peer at Frieda’s hands, but she wasn’t at all successful in figuring out what the elderly lady was trying to do with her long hair. The standing mirror was behind her, so she couldn’t use that to take a peek.

Her neighbor’s hands moved through her hair as if she had already practiced the movements and done nothing but that for the past thirty years. The time just flew by. Just as Hannah was starting to relax under Frieda’s experienced hands and had almost fallen asleep, Frieda was suddenly standing before her and eyeing her critically. A moment later, her pointy face broke into a radiant smile. “I’m done, Mrs. Meyer,” she announced. “What do you think?”

Now Hannah really was getting nervous. Slowly, she rose from her chair, faced the full-length mirror, and turned to either side. Her hair had been curled and pinned to the back of her head, and Frieda had stuck in a couple of pins with white pearls. With a satisfied smile, Hannah surveyed the mountain of piled-up curls. The hairstyle wasn’t one of the fashionable kinds to be found in the latest magazines, but it was more than suitable for her dress and a ball. Hannah had to smile as she looked at herself. An unexpected feeling of anticipation welled up inside her.

“Now put on the dress. After that, we’ll turn to your face, just for a moment—and by then it will be seven o’clock!” Frieda clapped her hands. Since when had she taken over the high command?

Hannah put on the evening dress and took another look in the mirror. Astonished, she stood still. She hadn’t known she could still look like this. But when as a single mother could she even find time to get all done up, especially since there were no occasions in her life that would call for it?

Frieda, meanwhile, had steered her back to the chair, and as Hannah closed her eyes to let her do her makeup, she relaxed in a way that she hadn’t in a very long time. How good it felt to have somebody taking care of her, to not just be the one organizing and dressing others for once.

She sensed a little warmth in her breast, which of late had been feeling more and more frozen and cold. For weeks, if not months, she had felt a deep trembling inside, and it had grown stronger and stronger. Sometimes she thought she felt lifeless, as if she were merely going through the motions and nothing else mattered anymore. It had worried her in those few instants when she’d found the time to even notice it. But at the moment, under Frieda’s loving hands, it felt as if she still had a little warmth inside. A little bit of life.

What sort of evening was in store for her? What would be waiting for her at Lichtenberg Castle—or rather, at the Lichtenberg ruins? A real ball? Or someone? Did she have a secret admirer?

In reality, she didn’t care all that much. The simple act of getting dressed up a bit, of wearing a gown like this and having her hair done so beautifully—that was more than she expected of her life these days.

Not that she had any regrets. She loved her children, and she loved her life with them. It was just a hell of a lot of work to take care of her three sweet peas all by herself and to shoulder the entire burden without support. Still, she wasn’t yearning for a man at all. She had no time to yearn for one—let alone for a relationship! When was she supposed to meet someone? And where? And what if her children didn’t like him? Marco, above all, certainly wouldn’t accept another man by her side. It wasn’t worth the trouble.

She liked her routine, her rut, her chaos. But sometimes, something inside her would tug at her. And she would wonder... although she still loved Andrew and still saw him as the love of her life, sometimes she would wonder if that was all there would ever be...

“Oh, Mrs. Meyer, if I may say so, I have certainly outdone myself this time. Although you do make it easy with your delicate complexion and almond eyes. Quite enchanting. Have a look at yourself!”

As Hannah was opening her eyes, her children came bursting in. “Just like a princess!” Emi and Leon cried in unison.

Hannah laughed sheepishly. “What about you, big guy?”

“Not bad, Mom!”

“Now you listen to me, young man,” Frieda said as she settled her hands on her ample hips. “You can do better than that!”

“Pretty!” Marco added weakly.

Hannah winked at him. Then she turned toward the full-length mirror one more time, and right at that moment she got a faint inkling of the reasons why some women could spend hours looking at themselves in the mirror. She liked what she saw so much that she had to force herself to finally look away so she could focus on what was important.

“Kids, I know that we had a deal and I made you a promise.” She took Leon and Emi by the hand and pulled them close while looking at Marco. “But if I go out tonight, you’ll be all alone, and I won’t be here to put you to bed.”

“Frieda can do it!” Leon cried, as though he didn’t call for his mother five times a night under the pretext of not being able to fall asleep without her.

“How long till the coach comes?” Emi asked, hopping up and down. She also seemed to have no problem with the notion of falling asleep later on without her mother. Why couldn’t it be this easy on the nights when Frieda wasn’t around?

As the children kept stressing again and again that they wouldn’t miss Hannah at all, the doorbell rang. Hannah and the children froze.

“The coach?” Marco raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He apparently hadn’t believed it any more than Hannah had. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“They’re picking Mama up!” cried Leon.

Hannah’s heart sank, only to immediately start pounding like mad. Slowly, she walked into the living room and out onto the tiny balcony. With the children standing behind her, she looked out at the narrow street, which was flanked on either side by one apartment building after another. A car was trying to park in a space that was much too small. As she leaned over the railing and saw what was down on the road below, her jaw dropped.

There on the street—full of honking cars and modern people staring at their smartphones or holding them up to their ears and rushing by without looking up—there on this same street was a coach. It was shaped like an oversized pumpkin, though it was noble in appearance and its color a shimmering bluish white. The crest she had seen on the invitation was depicted on the door, and even the large wheels were a shimmering bluish white.

This magnificent coach was pulled by six horses. They were so white they shone like lights glowing against the gray of the street and the grimy building fa?ades. The old-fashioned vehicle was driven by an elderly gentleman who was sitting on the coach box and looking up at them. When he spotted Hannah, a smile appeared on his wizened face, and he waved at her to come down.

Hannah stepped back into the apartment. What if she was falling for some madman’s game? What if it was a trap someone had devised so he could assault her? She didn’t want to say it out loud so as not to frighten the children.

Frieda seemed to read her mind. “Mrs. Meyer, do have a little faith.” Her smile was so friendly and kind that Hannah simply had to smile back. She felt a little lighter and regarded her elderly neighbor thankfully. Whatever this evening might bring, the past few hours had shown her that suddenly someone was there who would help her, after all—someone with good intentions toward her and her children, someone who would stand by her side.

“Where did you come from all of a sudden, dear Frieda?” Hannah’s smile was full of gratitude. Why had she always reacted in such an annoyed and not particularly friendly way whenever she had encountered her neighbor over the past weeks and months? Why hadn’t she seen before that she was lonely and simply wanted to help in order to bring a little warmth into her own life?

Since Frieda had moved in next door nearly six months before, not once had Hannah seen anyone visit her—no friends or family. She was lonely, though seemingly not bitter about it. Instead, she had always approached Hannah and the kids in a friendly though admittedly somewhat meddlesome way and had tried to bring her and the children a bit of joy through small gestures.

“And you really will take good care of my sweet peas?” It was a rhetorical question. Hannah trusted her neighbor. The children liked her, and when Hannah listened to her inner voice, she felt she was doing the right thing.

“Of course, dear Mrs. Meyer!”

“Please call me Hannah.”

Frieda beamed, and her large front teeth peeked out. “And do please feel free to call me by my first name, Hannah.”

“Agreed!”

“But now you need to go. You don’t want to be too late getting to the ball!”

“We’ll take you down to the coach, Mommy!” Emi cried excitedly, already putting on her sandals. Leon was also slipping on his shoes, and even Marco was putting on his sneakers. The three of them raced ahead as Hannah hesitated and looked around. She had no matching shoes! Which of her well-worn high-heeled sandals would look best? The dress was so long that no one was likely to see what she wore on her feet. Even so, she heaved an inward sigh. She had no wish to embarrass herself at this event, to ruin this strange and wondrous experience with worn-out and inappropriate footwear!

Frieda pulled something out of the bag that held her sewing things. It was a pair of red velvet slippers—like something out of a fairy tale. They had a low heel and a pretty buckle that glowed in the same red as the shoes themselves and Hannah’s dress. They were simple and classic at the same time. “I brought these for you. Put them on, Hannah.”

“Where did you get these, Frieda? They’re not from this century, are they?”

Frieda chuckled and winked at her. “I have my sources. Now come try them on.”

Hannah took the slippers and put them on her feet. They fit like a glove. And they were so delightfully comfortable that she couldn’t help wondering how she would ever manage to wear another pair of shoes. She looked at her neighbor, beaming. “They fit perfectly, Frieda!”

Her elderly neighbor smiled and nodded in encouragement. Hannah felt a bit as if she were doing her neighbor a favor and not the other way around. She gave the elderly woman a hug. “Thank you.”

In her full dress, she could only take the high, narrow steps at a very slow pace. Frieda followed behind her and was helping to lift her skirt off the floor when something occurred to Hannah. “Sometimes at night, a couple of drunks will be wailing out on the street. That often startles Leon and Emi awake, and then they’ll cry out?—”

“I shall take care of them until you return, just as if they were my own children.”

Hannah sighed with relief.

As they stepped out onto the street, she paused. Astounded, she again surveyed the magnificent fairy-tale coach and six white horses. Her gaze fell upon the elderly gentleman who was sitting on the box and giving her a friendly look. He climbed down from the coach box, doffed his shiny top hat, and bowed deeply. As he did so, the few white hairs on his head blew back and forth in the wind. Then he opened the door to the coach. “My dear lady, if you would kindly step inside. We don’t want to be late.”

“Oh, Mommy, how magical!” Emi cried as she and Leon jumped up and down, each one outdoing the other.

Incredulous, Hannah looked at the coach, the coachman, and the horses and pinched her arm. Was all this really happening? Her arm hurt where she’d pinched it.

A loud honking sound came from behind the coach. A man in a dark sportscar was yelling out the window, “What are you doing? Keep moving, Grandpa! I’m in a hurry!”

So he could see the coach, too.

“One moment, please, dear sir!” the coachman called out in a kindly tone.

A group of teenagers, all hunched over their smartphones, was walking by on the other side of the street. One of the girls looked up and whacked her friend in the side. “That’s fire! Look, Kat, are they shooting a movie over there?”

“I’ll google it quick. Is the one in the red dress an actor?”

Hannah smiled and gave her two youngest children a big hug. “Now you listen to what Frieda tells you, all right? Promise?”

“Yeah!” Emi and Leon answered at one and the same time.

“You, too!” She turned to her oldest child and hugged him close.

Marco nodded.

“We’ll be fine!” Frieda exclaimed, beaming. “Your angels are in good hands with me, Mrs. Meyer—Hannah, I mean.”

Hannah smiled and hugged her neighbor, who laughed out loud. Then she turned to her three children, who hadn’t been out of her sight for a single day since Andrew’s death, and she hesitated. Should she really do this? Should she get in the coach?

The coachman held out his hand to help her climb in, and Frieda nudged her from behind. “Come now, off you go—a prince must not be made to wait!”