The Hottest Dishes of the Tartar Cuisine

The third husband

Sulfia planned to stay two weeks. She said any longer was impossible — she couldn’t leave Kalganow and his teacher of Russian and literature in a lurch. She had all the necessary paperwork for the marriage with her, though. She threw her arms around Dieter’s neck, stroked his cheek, and said how much she had missed him. Aminat likewise threw her arms around Sulfia’s neck and hung on her for a while, until I reprimanded her. Even a blind man could have seen how tired Sulfia was. She could barely keep herself upright.

I had cooked a chicken, potatoes, and vegetables and made a salad to go along with the meal. And for dessert I baked a torte. Sulfia didn’t eat much. She smiled the entire time, but I found her smile deplorable.

I wanted Sulfia first to marry and then to recuperate a little. She hadn’t had a vacation in so long. I gave her all my vitamins. Sulfia said thank you to everything. But she was listless. Even her own wedding didn’t interest her much. She lay down often. And then out of nowhere she told me she didn’t want to marry Dieter because she couldn’t be a good wife.

“You’re crazy,” I said. “You are the best wife ever.”

She squinted.

The appointment at City Hall was two days before her return flight.

Beforehand I had rummaged around a little in Sulfia’s suitcase. It was very messily packed. I took everything out, washed it all, ironed it, and folded it. By chance I had also found a cosmetic bag in which Sulfia kept all her medicines. There must have been a pound of one particular concoction, and a few others besides. I wrote down the names on the packages. That way I could take the names to one of my clients, a specialist in internal medicine, and show him what Sulfia was taking.

My employer, quite a good looking man with a goatee that made him look younger than his fifty-five years (I had cleaned up his home office many times and knew his birth date), shook his head and said that putting her on these medicines was negligent. The original drug, the one no longer manufactured in Russia, couldn’t be replaced with these. No wonder Sulfia was so listless.

“I need the correct medicine!” I said. “Is it available in Germany?”

Everything was available in Germany. My client wrote out a prescription for a one-year supply. I took his hand and kissed it. I was so happy that my work put me in touch with people like this.

Then he said it would be a good idea for Sulfia to have a thorough examination. I asked whether he could do it. He asked about her health insurance. I asked whether she might be able to come by his office. We could figure out the payment later; he should have a look at her. The man stroked his goatee. The kiss on the hand was perhaps a little too hasty. I prayed to God for help. It worked: the man gave me his business card and said I should make an appointment at his office.

The year’s supply of medicine cost more than the driving school and plane ticket combined. The pharmacy had to order it specially. I was very happy my job had allowed me to make so much money. I emptied all my envelopes. It didn’t matter. I could make more, because unlike Sulfia, I was healthy.

“You shouldn’t have done it, mother,” said Sulfia. But she immediately started taking the tablets and said they made her feel better.

What she didn’t want to do was to go to the doctor. She said that she didn’t have the time and that her travel insurance would cover only emergencies.

“Look at yourself — you’re a walking emergency,” I said.

But she was as stubborn as ten mules. I just couldn’t convince her to go to the doctor. I should have done it, but it was beyond me.

It was hard enough to get her to marry. For that I used Aminat. She needed to stay in Germany, and everything had its price.

I wanted to go shopping with Sulfia for the wedding. But she said she couldn’t manage it. She lay on the couch breathing heavily. I looked at her and wondered how she had managed back at home to take care of someone bedridden. I had a strong desire to fly to Russia and put a pillow over Kalganow’s face because barring that, I thought, Sulfia would never be at peace.

I went to a secondhand boutique and bought a cream-colored silk dress for Sulfia. It was a valuable, finely tailored piece of clothing. I didn’t buy anything new for myself. I planned to wear a striking red dress that showed off my legs.

The ceremony was set for ten in the morning. We got up at seven. I combed Sulfia’s hair and put it up, put makeup on her sallow skin and a little rouge on her cheeks. She looked a bit more alive that way. I touched up her eyelashes.

“You look pretty, mama,” said Aminat.

Sulfia smiled.

Dieter put on a gray suit that he’d probably inherited from his grandfather. We went by foot to City Hall in the little village where Dieter lived, thus forcing us to live there as well. It was a small wedding. Just the four of us. It took ten minutes.

Afterward we went to an ice cream parlor. Aminat had a huge sundae with strawberries; the rest of us had coffee.

I was proud of myself. My daughter Sulfia, once the ugliest girl on the block, had her third husband.

Two days later I took Sulfia, the wife of a German, to the airport in Dieter’s car. She seemed terribly sad. She said that since she’d been taking the medicine I got her she felt better. I hugged her and kissed her — almost willingly.

“A bachelor for a while again, eh?” I said to Dieter when I came home from the airport. Aminat was lying on her bed with her face pressed to the pillow. I couldn’t help wondering why she loved Sulfia so much. She could get everything she needed from me.

Dieter sat down next to Aminat and put his hand on her head. I watched from the hall. I wanted to make sure he didn’t forget who he had married.

I started working like a dog again. I had a goal. Only a blind person could fail to see how sick Sulfia was. I needed money for her treatment.

I had an address for a new client. He had a very nice name: John Taylor. I didn’t like Dieter’s name anymore. Just a normal German name. Sometimes I thought perhaps I shouldn’t have rushed it with Sulfia’s marriage.