Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
This is what Shelly had dreamed of for a long time, the opportunity to explore a wonderful and amazing corner of the world.
Inside her, the tension over seeing Jonathan was building. He would be here tomorrow, and if all went according to plan, she would walk into a meeting room at nine o’clock in some little church in Heidelberg and freak the socks off her best friend. Shelly knew she was not going to sleep a wink until that moment. She imagined Jonathan going about his day, just like any other, planning to attend a staff meeting, just like any other. He had no idea his life was about to be radically shaken.
H
ere we are,” Jana said, unlocking large double doors, which were set like straight teeth, at the bottom of a tall, long building; a very old, tall, long building. Everything around them was old. Shelly couldn’t begin to guess how ancient, but below her feet were cobblestones. The original stones, she was sure.
When she leaned back and looked down the street, she saw nothing but the continuous pale yellow face of this block-long, three-story building. Above were rows of identical windows in straight lines and above them, jutting out of the rust-colored tile roof, were sets of protruding dormer windows wearing their brown-shingled caps.
How many years had this building looked down on the peasants and privileged who passed by on this street? How long had it stood its ground and watched the seasons change?
“This is like a European movie,” Meredith said as they
walked inside and found themselves facing a grand, white, winding staircase.
Jana chuckled. Shelly winced. Sometimes her sister sounded like such a ditz. First saying the castle looked like a postcard and now proclaiming that this house looked like something from a movie.
“It’s real,” Mike said softly so his voice wouldn’t echo off the high ceiling. “However, we occupy only this tiny corner apartment here.”
Jana unlocked a nondescript door that Shelly would have guessed to be the door to the broom closet. It opened into a fairly spacious living area with high ceilings circled by elegant plaster carvings.
“Wow,” Shelly said, looking up. “That’s beautiful.”
“Yes,” Jana said. “The ceiling is one of the nicest features of our little nest.” She took them on the grand tour. First they stepped into a kitchen that was the size of a walk-in closet, then two small bedrooms and a large bathroom that was all tile—tile floors, tile walls, tile ceilings, tile shower. And the tile was a bright blue, which was a bit overwhelming.
“Makes for easy cleanup,” Jana quipped. “I haven’t quite figured out how to hang any pictures in here, though.”
“Are you two thirsty? Hungry? What can I get you?” Mike asked.
“I could go for some water,” Shelly said.
“Sounds good,” Meredith agreed.
Mike disappeared for only a moment into the compact kitchen and returned with two bottles of mineral water.
“Oh, I meant just water, water,” Meredith said.
“We don’t drink our tap water,” Jana said. “Old plumbing, you know. Don’t let the reddish brown color surprise you when you take a shower. Besides, you might as well get used
to drinking the mineral water. Restaurants around here will charge you plenty and bring you what they call,
‘Wasser mit Gas.’ ”
Shelly lifted her bottle to their informative tour guide and said, “This will be fine.
Danke
.”
“Bitte
,” Jana replied. “I can see you two are going to be easy. I love it when Americans come to visit and they can just go with the flow rather than trying to change everything to make it familiar.”
“I told you my sister was a lot like me,” Meredith said.
Shelly hoped Jana and Mike would consider that a good thing.
“Please make yourselves completely at home,” Jana said. “The clean towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom. Just don’t be surprised if anything else tumbles out when you open the door. We’re a bit tight on storage around here.”
Meredith and Jana started to chat, and Mike went into their bedroom to make some phone calls. Shelly decided she would lie down, even though she knew better than to let her fatigued body think it was okay to fall asleep. If she didn’t stay up all day, she would never be able to sleep that night and convince her system to switch over to the time change.
In the privacy of the guest room, with the door closed, Shelly pulled a small book from her bag. It was her journal from the past few weeks and would now serve as her travel diary. On the first page she had copied word-for-word the poem Jonathan had sent her so long ago. Three pages later she had copied a poem she had found in the book of English poetry she had bought in San Francisco.
She urged her bleary eyes to scan the poem by Robert Herrick entitled, “To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time.”
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,
The higher he’s a-getting;
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.
That age is best, which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
Shelly had taken the words of this old lyric seriously when she first read them. The fear that she may become an old maid had hit her hard. She needed to get Jonathan back, and when she did, she needed to never let him go. It helped her to read the poem again, now that she was so close to seeing him. She gathered a new determination and purpose from the ancient exhortation. No more being coy. She would seize the day. Capture the moment. Use her time.
It seemed her pathway was being made clear, wonderfully clear. Confident that her destiny was sealed, Shelly took the rest of the day in stride.
Jana and Mike urged them to explore the local shops. With some money stuffed in their pockets, Shelly and Meredith ventured out onto the cobblestone streets in the crisp, autumn air.
“Just look at that, will you?” Meredith said, snapping a photo of the austere Heidelberg Castle wall that loomed above
them on a hill behind the town. “It’s so huge.”
“Look at those trees,” Shelly said. If she had had a camera with her, she would have photographed the rows of trees that lined the hillside on which the castle stood. The deciduous beauties were fully adorned in their finest golds, oranges, yellows, and bronzes. All the trees needed was one strong wind, and Shelly was sure they would be robbed of their glittering jewels, stripped bare and left to wait for the merciful white softness of winter’s snow to clothe their bare arms.
“Take a picture of the trees,” Shelly said.
“The trees?”
“Yes, look at them. They’re gorgeous.”
“Okay, but let’s go into the courtyard over there, and you can stand by the fountain with the trees in the background.”
Shelly adjusted the turned-up collar on her suede jacket and smiled her biggest smile. Tomorrow at this time she might be having her picture taken with Jonathan beside her. The thought made the back of her neck tingle. It would feel so good to have his arm around her once again. How could she have turned off all her thoughts and feelings for him so quickly when she left for Los Angeles? It scared her to realize how successfully she had buried her first love.
“First stop must be a pastry shop,” Meredith said, tucking the camera back into the big pocket of her jacket. “I saw one down the street when we drove in this way. Come on.” Meredith linked arms with Shelly and started to hoof it toward the main street.
Shelly laughed. “Boy, when it comes to pastry you are unstoppable!”
“Always,” Meredith said.
They laughed together and enjoyed the sun’s warmth on their faces. Shelly quickly realized that she didn’t need to wear her jacket on this glorious afternoon. It almost seemed to be
warmer outside than it was in Jana and Mike’s apartment.
Meredith pushed open the door to the tiny bakery. A fabulous, warm, yeast-laced-with-cinnamon scent rushed to greet them.
“Okay, I’m hungry now,” Shelly said. Her mouth started to water for her favorite snickerdoodles. The gleaming case of goodies boasted a wide variety of pastries, but no snickerdoodles. She selected a flat delicacy that looked like a long piece of dough wrapped round and round in the shape of a pinwheel and dusted with sugar. They both ordered coffee and stepped to the side of the shop to enjoy their feast. Three tall, round tables stood at the side of the shop next to the shelves stocked with chocolates, teas, and coffee mugs. No chairs. Shelly and Meredith followed the lead of the others in the shop and stood while they ate their baked goods and sipped their dark, robust coffee.
“You know what they need over here?” Shelly said, licking the sugar from her lips. “They need those flavored coffee creamers.”
Meredith laughed. “That’s really a kick in the pants when you think about it. They advertise them in the U.S. as international coffee creamers, but from the looks of things, international coffee is as dark as night and as strong as a mule.”
Shelly smiled. “You’re right. I wonder what other misconceptions of Europe you and I might have.”
“I have no misconceptions about their baked goods. Whatever this was, it’s a memorable experience.”
Shelly laughed softly, aware that they were talking louder than anyone else in the shop and in English, no less. There was no mistaking who the American tourists were.
“Meri, only you would describe the consumption of a muffin as a memorable experience.”
“Well, it was.” She tipped her white ceramic mug to capture
the last ounce of black coffee. Lowering her voice she added, “Next time I’m going to order tea, I think.”
“I think we’re spoiled by the Seattle coffee experience,” Shelly said. “You know, I’ve had so many lattes and mochas in my day, I don’t know what black coffee tastes like anymore.”
Meredith lifted her cup. “Drink and remember.”
Shelly preferred to finish her pastry rather than her coffee. She was swallowing the last bite when Meredith said, “So?”
“So, what?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to say something.”
“About the pastry? It’s wonderful.”
“No, you goose!” Meredith tucked her blond hair behind her ears. “About Jonathan! Aren’t you excited?”
“Of course I am.” Shelly subconsciously followed her sister’s example and looped her soft brown hair behind her ears, too. “I’m so excited I can hardly think straight.”
“You seem calm to me. Even when we found out he was coming here, you acted sedate, as if you already knew.”
Shelly shrugged. She slipped out of her warm jacket and hung it over her arm. “All I can say is that I feel at peace. Not at peace, more on center, if that makes sense. I’m ready to see him. The timing is perfect. Two months ago I wouldn’t have felt like this. I needed to work through my memories all these weeks. I’m ready now for the relationship he wanted before. It’s just perfect timing, that’s all.”
“God’s timing, if you ask me. Really, think about all this.”
“I have been.”
“What are you going to say when you see him?” Meredith asked.
“I don’t know. That’s the only part that makes my stomach tie into a knot. I want to apologize for how I acted the night we broke up. But somehow I feel he’s already forgiven me. I don’t know if I should dredge that up the first thing or if I should
just act natural and show him how glad I am to see him. Then, when it’s appropriate, I can tell him I’m sorry.”
“That sounds reasonable. You’re probably going to see him in a roomful of people,” Meredith surmised. “It might be embarrassing if the first thing you did was start apologizing to him in front of everyone.”
“You’re probably right.” Shelly felt a wonderful shiver zipping up her spine. “I’m going to see Jonathan! I still can’t believe it. I keep wondering if he’s changed. Jana said he was a doll.”
“He always was,” Meredith said with a sigh. “One of the last few heroes left on planet Earth. You know, I told him once that I never forgave his mother for having only one child. He needed a brother.”
“You mean you needed a brother,” Shelly said. “You had your pick of boyfriends all your life and still do. What you needed was a brother who would have roughed you up some and shaken that prissiness right out of you.”
“Oh, so now the truth comes out. You think I’m prissy?”
“Just a little.”
“Well, it just so happens you’ve turned a little prissy in your old age, too. Don’t think I didn’t notice that book of poems you left on the coffee table at home. Not to mention your long hair and that little thing you do now when you walk. You didn’t do that when you were a kid.”
“What little thing?”
Meredith stuck her chin up and swayed her shoulders as she demonstrated by sauntering over to the pastry counter and back. “That little thing. That’s definitely a feminine touch you’ve picked up. My guess is it came from all those trips up and down the narrow airplane aisles. You traded in your cowgirl swing for a soft little sway.”