Boy from the Woods (9781311684776) (11 page)

Julia sighed
deeply
. “I can’t explain, but I
can
sense
it. I
know
it. He’s changed because of that accident. And
yet, I know I should be careful. Gaby’s been on my case the whole
time. She thinks I should stay away from him, and frankly I can’t
do anything but agree with her.”

“Just let it
flow,” G
ran said softly. “Stay away from
him, but let him come to
you
if he really wants to. How do
they say it these days? Your neighborhood, your rules.”

Julia snorted. “Gran, just
stop.
I
don’t even know what the rules are. Believe me, I
want
to be
all strong and independent, but for this guy, I’m willing to bend
the rules so much they look like a pretzel. And it’s pissing me
off. I don’t
want
him to have this effect on me
anymore.”

“He can only
have th
at effect on you if you want him
to,” the old woman said unperturbed. Julia was close to gritting
her teeth out of frustration because Gran was right. She
did
want
him to. She still did.

“So…
I’m going to hit the shower,” she said in the
ensuing silence.

She got up
and slogged upstairs. As the warm water pelted down on her head,
she thought about her grandmother
’s
words. Of course Gran was right – she had to let things flow and
follow her own heart. Common sense told her she should steer clear
of Michael, but her heart’s desire won over logic and reason.
Something was up with him, and she intended to find out what it
was.

After
she got back downstairs, Julia played some songs
on the piano while her grandmother was cleaning the kitchen. After
that, they each got a pair of hedge trimmers and attacked the
shrubs in the back yard. At two o’clock sharp, they set out to the
supermarket. Julia was saddled with the task of rolling the
‘old-ladies’-cart’ down the sidewalk – that’s what her grandma had
nicknamed the old-fashioned tartan-patterned trolley bag she used
for groceries.

“What time
will your mother be
coming?” Gran
inquired.

“No idea. After work, she said.”

“I’ll ask go
and ask her.” The old woman walked to the back of the store, where
a red door gave access to the storage area and the back
office.

Julia stopped
at some crates of tangerines, scanning the selection of fruit and
vegetables for fresh mangoes. Absent-mindedly, she picked up three
tangerines from the crate in front of her, staring at them
indecisively. She didn’t really want tangerines, but it looked like
the mangoes were sold out.

A modest cough startled her from her musings.
“Can I help you with anything?” a familiar-sounding voice
asked.

Julia looked
up, straight into Thorsten’s blue eyes. He was standing next
t
o her in a supermarket uniform, a
cheerful smile gracing his face.

“Uhm, hey,” she
fumbled.
“I had no idea you worked
here.”

“Since yesterday. Sabine told me your mother
worked here, so I thought, let’s ride her coattails and give it a
shot.”

“Well, it worked,” Julia chuckled. “How are
you liking it so far?”

“Just fine!”
His eyes darted to the three tangerines she was still
holding.
“I’ve actually been observing you for quite
some time. I was kind of hoping you’d start juggling with those.”
He smiled playfully, and Julia started to laugh.

“Oh,
and
that’s what you wanted to help me
with?” she asked in mock-bewilderment. “Maybe you’d better quit
this job and join the circus.”

Thorsten
’s face fell. “Please
don’t tease me with my red nose and floppy feet. It really hurts,
you know. I expected more from you.”

“No, you
misunderstand.
I’m not teasing you! It’s
good to know your strengths, right?”

“True, true.”
His gaze fell on the trolley bag. “Cute cart,” he continued with a
wink. “Do you always take that to the supermarket?”

“I’m here
with my grandma
, okay?” Julia retorted
defensively, glaring at him.

“I know.” He shot her a
half-smile.
“I saw the two of you come
in.”

Julia bit her
lip, suddenly wondering just how long Thorsten had been
watching her. He turned around to pick some
bruised peppers out of a vegetable crate, pausing for a moment.
“So, you got any plans for the weekend?” he asked, re-arranging the
cucumbers for no apparent reason. He didn’t look at her, and Julia
realized he sounded a bit nervous. Her stomach gave a lurch and she
swiveled around to put back her tangerine-juggling balls and hide
her red cheeks from view.

“Yeah, I’m working. I’m
starting at the bookstore tomorrow. Pretty cool.”
All the while, she was pondering Gaby’s
suggestion. She could ask Thorsten to join her and come to Shamrock
tomorrow night, surely. He would fit right in with her circle of
friends, but she felt a bit guilty for inviting him just to
distract her from Michael. He was way too nice for that. On the
other hand, what would be the harm in introducing him to new
people? He had just moved here, after all.

“Have you
made any friends our age in Salzburg yet?” she asked, getting her
act together. Thorsten shook his head, looking at her expectantly.
“Well, if you feel like it, you can come with me to the Shamrock
pub tomorrow night and you can meet my friends.
Hang
out.”

“Of course I feel like it,” he responded
enthusiastically. “Where’s Shamrock?”

As
Julia
told him which bus to take to get
to the pub, she saw her grandmother sidling up to them from the
corner of her eye.
Gran was careful not to interrupt
their conversation.

“Okay, see
you tomorrow then,” Thorsten said after saving her number
to his contacts.

“Yeah, see you! Enjoy
work!”
Julia waved at him as he strolled
off to stock some shelves in the cereals aisle.

“Who was that?” There was Gran’s inevitable
and curious question.

“Thorsten. He’s Sabine’s
brother.
You know, Sabine is Anne’s new
best friend.”

Grandma nodded
thoughtfully. “I see.”
She glanced in the
direction of the cereals aisle. “And what about him? Is he going to
be
your
new best friend?”

Julia turned red. “Gee,
Gran, I don’t know.
I just want to figure
out… I can’t just let Michael… I don’t think I’m ready for… he’s
nice, though.” Wow, so much for coherence. She sighed in
frustration.

“Well,
he
certainly likes you,” Gran said
casually, trotting off to the checkout with her trolley
bag.

“Huh? Why do you say
that?
Is this your sixth sense kicking in
again?”

“Oh, come on
now, you don’t need psychic powers to see that. His eyes tell the
whole story.”

Julia didn’t reply.
His eyes? She’d thought Michael’s eyes had told
her a story too, but it had made her none the wiser.
“Whatever.”

“Now, why so
surly? It’s just an observation. Ignore it if you want.”

Julia started
laughing. “I’
m sorry, Gran. Forget
it.”

Julia and her grandmother spent the rest of
the afternoon gardening, drinking tea and playing cards.

“I’d better go home,” Julia muttered, when
Gran put down a joker for the third time in one game of Mau
Mau.

The old woman winked. “Ha! I sent you running
for your life.”

Julia pouted
in mock disappointment, then got up and went to the bathroom to
change into her running clothes.
She hugged her
grandma in the hallway. “See you on Sunday.
We’ll be round for tea.”

The breeze
ruffled her hair
as she jogged back at a
relaxed pace. In the forest, the tree branches swept back and forth
like the waves of a wild sea. Julia breathed deeply in and out. The
familiar feeling of serenity had returned to the woods, as if the
strange and oppressive atmosphere of early morning had been blown
away by the wind that had picked up. She could sense it. Her mind
was empty when she left the forest trail and cut through the brush
to get to the oak tree. Maybe she’d be able to relax at ‘her’ spot
this time around.

A frown
appeared on Julia’s face, though, when she rounded a patch of trees
and spotted a lone figure sitting with his back against the oak.
Panting softly, she came to a halt, feeling a familiar knot forming
in her stomach. She recognized that figure.

What the hell
was
he
doing here?

Slowly, she
approached the oak tree. Michael didn’t seem to notice her – he was
sitting motionless with his eyes closed, resting his hands on his
knees.

This guy was
driving her insane, little by little. Ever since she’d decided
to
try and avoid Michael, she kept
tripping over him at every turn. Of course it was unreasonable to
blame
him
for her restlessness, but it bugged her to find Michael
here. It didn’t compute. This was
her
meditation spot – he
shouldn’t be here.

Just as she was about to turn around and
silently retreat into the woods, Michael opened his eyes.

“Julia,” he
said, turning his head and staring straight at her, almost as if
he’d sensed she was there.

“Hey,” she
replied curtly, a
tiny shiver running
through her body. How had he known?

He smiled, and the wind stirred the leaves of
the tree he was leaning against.

Julia
grudgingly walked toward him. She couldn’t in all decency just
storm off now.
After all, he’d greeted her kindly
enough.

“What are you doing here?” she asked a bit
too tartly.

Michael got
up, running a hand through his hair
.
“Thinking,” he replied softly, then looked around him. “This is
where it happened.”

Julia took in
his serious face, suddenly
feeling
ashamed for hating his presence here so much. He had every right to
visit the place where he’d almost met an untimely end. It was
obviously just coincidence it happened to be
her
special place,
too.

“Don’t you
have
bad memories associated with the
forest?” she asked cautiously.

Michael smiled broadly and shook his head. “I
feel at home here,” he answered. “More than… at home.”

Julia thought of his beautiful, expensive
mansion, of his wealthy parents who were mostly absent. A sudden
feeling of pity overwhelmed her.

“I’m sorry,”
she mumbled.

He shrugged. “I’m
not.
This is a beautiful place to feel at
home.” He took her hand as if it was the most normal thing in the
world. “And you come here a lot,” he continued, happiness showing
in his eyes.

“I do.” Julia stared at
her hand in his.
How did he know that,
actually? She hadn’t told Michael that much about herself in the
hours she’d spent with him in private. They’d been busier making
out than talking. Julia felt herself redden when she looked up and
became aware of his proximity. He was closer than she’d thought.
Her hand was growing hot in his palm. “I – I feel at peace here,”
she stuttered, shyly taking a step backward and releasing his hand.
“I come here to clear my head.”

“But I bet you come here for inspiration
too?”

Julia nodded mutely.
“Writing poems.
That kind of thing,” she
mumbled at last.

“Composing?”

She nodded again.

“You play the
piano, right?” He nonchalantly put both hands in the pockets of his
jeans.
“You should come over again.
That grand piano is just gathering dust in the living room
anyway. My mother never has time to play.”

Julia looked
at him in surprise. “Me? Playing that Steinway?” she stammered,
perplexed.

Michael moved
closer.
Julia felt the oak tree against
her back. She leaned back her head and looked up at him. Slowly, a
crooked smile crept across his face.

“Yes,” he replied
calmly.
“You. Playing that
Steinway.”

He was
way
too
close for her to feel comfortable. Why did her treacherous heart
still race when he was standing this close? She knew very well what
kind of person he was… or had been, at the very least.

“I
dunno,”
she hedged. “I’ll think about
it.”

“You should.
The invitation stands. That piano is gonna feel
lonely until you decide to grace it with a recital.”

Julia
swallowed hard. “So, I should be on my way…” She pointed vaguely in
the direction of the path, tiptoeing around Michael as if he would
stop her. “I have cooking duty.”