Distractions (39 page)

of those looking for peace. I did not

offer up a prayer of my own. I didn’t

need to; they were all being answered.

A short drive away from the

monastery, we stopped for lunch in

another

small

town

called

Oberammergau. Shepard explained that

the town was famous for performing the

Passion Play, based on the life and death

of Jesus. They made a promise to God in

the 1600s, that if spared from the

suffering of the plague, they would fulfill

a promise to perform the play every ten

years.

“They still do it?” My eyes grew

large as we walked through the idyllic

town, full of shops with wooden

carvings and sculptures. A Christmas

themed shop caught all of my senses

with a strong cinnamon scent wafting

outward, cuckoo clocks chiming, and

delicate ornaments hanging from heavily

decorated faux pines. Touching several

pieces tenderly, my heart dropped at

never having a tree – not even lights.

That time of year stopped being special

long ago. I cradled a small wooden

angel with both hands. She was simple

and had brown hair like mine, holding a

heart with the word hoffen inscribed

upon it.

“Do you know what that means,

Violet?” His finger traced along the tiny

words.

Shaking my head “no”, I waited for

his response.

“It means hope.”

He gently took the angel out of my

hands and walked to the register where

the woman boxed it up tightly with white

tissue paper.

Sitting in the car on the final leg of

the trip, I pulled the angel out of the box

and gently unwrapped her. Laughing

lightly, I said, “I don’t even have a tree.”

“Well, now you have a reason to

get one.” He smiled brightly at me as I

continued to explore the handcrafted

ornament.

A few hours later, we arrived in the

waterside town of Lindau, which was

near the border of Switzerland on the

Lake of Constance. My aunt chose to

live there after meeting her husband

Joachim nearly twenty years earlier. The

GPS system made it simple to navigate

and made me wonder how I ever

traveled without one.

As we arrived at the chalet

structured home, they both greeted us

warmly outside. She startled Shepard by

pulling him into a hug as well. Joachim

chuckled at the expression on his face

when she let him go. They led us into the

spacious home and to the guest room on

the upper level of the house. She began

to lead Shepard down the hall to a futon,

but I said that wasn’t necessary. Eyeing

us strangely, she gave a knowing smile

before closing the door.

“How do you know I don’t like

futons?” He was already removing his

shoes and belt while asking the question.

“You are free to sleep there tonight;

I was just being nice.”

Wrapping his arms around my

shoulders, he gave me a quick peck on

the cheek. “Well, aren’t you sweet.”

I knew he was being sarcastic. I

wanted more of the playful Shepard. I

smacked my rear and blew a kiss. “Like

sugar, watch out so you don’t get a

cavity.”

He must have been in a very playful

mood, because I was not prepared to be

tackled and slammed on the ground,

being tickled so hard I wanted to piss in

my pants. When I screamed loudly, my

aunt came to the door in a panic.

Realizing we were just messing around,

she closed the door again, leaving me at

his mercy. Once again, he pinned me to

the ground, but I didn’t fight this time.

My chest was heaving heavily

beneath him, remaining still until he

decided to free me. He wanted to see if I

would submit – trust him not to hurt me. I

was not afraid like before; a different set

of emotions were running wild within

me. He was breaking my resolve.

One more day, Violet, just one

more day…

He leaned down with his lips

hovering over mine, so close I could

almost taste him. I wanted to taste him;

all I had to do was lift my head a

fraction of a centimeter. Twisting his

hips to grind ever so slightly between

my legs forced a moan from deep in my

throat. My body deceived me and arched

back into him. Every fiber in my being

started to hum with desire, engaged in a

new battle, not with him but with myself.

His mouth moved and lightly grazed the

soft skin above my collar bone, the soft

whiskers brushing along my cheek. His

tongue dipped into the hollow beneath

my throat, causing me to shudder and

whine softly.

“Tell me to stop, Violet, and I

will.” His husky voice was low and

quiet, barely a whisper in my ear.

I could hear myself cracking as his

name came out. “Shepard.” Stopping to

look down at me, wild and full of

passion, he began to retreat when he saw

my face, almost looking ashamed.

“Please stop.”

His hands released me and he

rolled to the side flat on his back,

breathing out deeply. He was hitting his

breaking point, too. I could see the

tendons in his neck and jaws tighten as

he clenched his teeth, staring at the

ceiling. I had to diffuse him, and I only

knew one way how. “Shepard, wait.” I

was asking him to do something that was

killing me. Threading my fingers through

his chocolate hued hair, I crashed my

lips down over his and inhaled hard,

stealing the breath from his lungs.

It’s just a kiss, just one kiss. I can

give him this, it won’t ruin anything.

I was terrible at lying to myself. I

was sinking quickly and I knew it. Just

as his tongue set out to devour every part

of me, a quiet knock came at the door.

Her voice was soft, as if she knew

what was transpiring behind the closed

doors. “Violet, it’s time to eat.”

Despite

Shepard’s

obvious

irritation at the interruption, her timing

couldn’t have been more perfect. “We’ll

be right down!” I smiled at the frustrated

man trapped between my thighs and

shrugged my shoulders. Leaning down

gently, I placed a soft kiss on his lips,

coaxing him out of his suddenly bad

mood. “It’s not that I don’t want to; I just

can’t. I won’t be able to survive another

heartbreak…what’s

left

is

barely

holding together.”

Moving off to the side, I knelt one

last time to kiss him deeply. His hand

reached up and caressed the side of my

face in understanding. This would have

to be enough for now.

He rolled over and reached out his

arm for me to pull him off the floor.

Once standing, he laced his fingers

through mine and brought my hand to his

lips. I turned his hand to kiss the palm

and held it to my chest. “I’m trying to

listen, okay?”

He nodded his head and opened the

door to walk behind me. Once

downstairs, my aunt and uncle both

smiled deliberately, yet didn’t say a

word about it. Instead, they proceeded to

grill Shepard about what he did, how we

knew each other, and his favorite soccer

team. They had prepared small dishes

full of ingredients to cook in a small

oven-like device with little cast iron

trays.

“What is this?” I held the trays

curiously and likened it to a child’s play

oven.

Hannalore started to load a tray

with small finger potatoes, peppers and

a slice of cheese, and then placed it into

one of the slots as a demonstration.

“It’s called raclette; it’s Swiss.

You put the food onto here and cook for,

I dunno, three, four minutes. It cooks

fast.” Her English always impressed me

for being her second language. She

explained that most German children

learn English in school, yet in some

areas, it is not as important. Talking to

me gave her the chance to use it more. I

could tell Shepard was confused as he

listened to them conversing. Finally, it

must have bothered him enough to

address it.

“Wait, you’re German? How is she

your aunt? I mean, you look dead on like

each other, but I don’t understand,

though.” As he looked back between us

both, Hannalore turned towards me.

“You didn’t tell him?”

It honestly had slipped my mind; I

didn’t really think about it. It was a huge

deal for me to be here, but sharing it

with Shepard was an afterthought.

Shaking my head back and forth, I picked

up my wine glass and took a sip before

starting.

“My grandfather was stationed here

right after World War II. They told the

soldiers not to embark on relationships

with the German women, because they

would not acknowledge their children.

They were occupational children. My

grandpa found out later that his German

girlfriend was pregnant after he received

orders to return home, but she gave

Hannalore up for adoption. When he did

find out, he had already met and married

my grandmother. They petitioned the

German government and were granted

custody. By then she was already four

years old. They didn’t warn the adoptive

mother that they were coming to get her;

they just showed up. The woman had a

heart attack, and my grandmother refused

to take her. My grandpa was furious, but

this was her home. These people had

raised her from the day she was born,

and in a moment, she would have been

gone. My grandma didn’t want to leave

her, but she felt it was the right thing to

do. Unfortunately, she didn’t know she

was adopted until she was fourteen. It

was only ten years ago she found her

father, and now he’s gone.”

My aunt had started to tear up and

held my hand as I told Shepard the story.

While she dabbed her eyes, she looked

to him and grinned widely.

“And Violet is the first to come

here to see me. She sends me pictures

and calls me on the phone; it is nice. I go

to America many times, but no one

comes here. I am very happy right now.”

I cannot help but hold her as we

weep into each other’s arms. This

brilliant woman who I was a nearly

identical to had lived an entire life time

as a stranger. I couldn’t imagine

knowing what it was like to never know

who you were. My presence gave her

something over fifty years of longing

could not replace.

My eyes caught sight of the long

curly hazel branch suspended above the

dining room table. I noticed she had

small ornaments hanging off of it with

fishing line. I turned to Shepard who

immediately knew what I was thinking

and nodded in approval. Running up to

the room, I pulled the small white box

from the suitcase and came back down.

“It’s from both of us.” I winked at

Shepard and watched her gingerly open

the package. Unfolding the tissue paper

to reveal the fragile wooden angel, she

brought her hand to her mouth and held it

up for Joachim to see it. She smiled as

she hung the ornament from the branch

and leaned over to hug each of us.

Shepard kissed the top of my head

and excused himself to sleep, knowing

that my aunt and I would be awake for

many more hours, catching up before we

had to leave the next day. Once I was

sure that he was fast asleep, I settled into

a chair by the small fireplace with stacks

of photo albums and a few bottles of

wine.

After pulling the cork from the

second bottle, she set her glass down

and looked me square in the eyes. It was

eerily like looking into a trick mirror at

a carnival. Her head cocked to one side,

idly flipping through the albums with me.

“Now what is it that we need to