Tess informed her mother that recently she had sold for a very good price a painting she had made of the little nuns cloister on the small island amidst the lake, on which shores her family lived since three generations in an old, wind whipped Art Nouveau Villa. The little corpulent woman nodded without showing any passion or recognition and said: „Well… Nice… Barbara, the niece of our neighbour Tom, can paint so wonderful! Oh, what beautiful pictures she creates! She could earn a real fortune with them!“
Tess tried to swallow a harsh reply. This was so familiar to her since her early childhood days. She could not remember one single sign of love, of motherly pride, not one word of praise. Every time she tried to tell about her successes mother countered in that damned emotionless way: „Well… Nice… But … does all those things – painting, travelling, writing, driving, teaching, etc. – in a much better way than you…“
It was late afternoon, and the sun slowly slid towards the horizon line of the lake and turned the color of the softly playing waves into gold. Tess overlooked the beautiful scenery without realising it, full of frustration she clenchend her fists. „I cannot bear it any longer!“, she murmured between her teeth.
Mother called: „It‘s time for a cocktail, Tess. Would you make me a Mimosa?“
The slim and tall middle-aged woman went into the garage. She always had loved to help her father fixing electric devices, or bicycles, or the aged family car. She had been Daddies girl, but he had died some years ago after a heavy stroke. Tess still knew by heart what was properly stuffed in all the drawers of the large wooden closet on the left side of the garage, and had not to search long before she found what she was looking for…
… Her mother took a small sip of the mild sparkling Cocktail. „Well… Nice… But a little bitter… Your cousin Mathilda can mix cocktails! Wow! The finest Mimosas I ever drank in my life!“
Tess smiled mildly. „The little bitter taste will fade away soon, Mum. I bet that this finally will be the absolutely best drink you ever had.“
She went out on the terrace watching the sun touching the far horizon, the veil of filigrane clouds above it were exploding in a firework of gold, red and violet. Dusk laid its soft and summer warm cloak over the lake and the sandy shore.
Tess heard her mother croak: „Darling! Help me, please! I feel so bad…“ A strangeled gargling followed. And then the sound of a corpulent old body flopping liveless to the floor.