Wait for Me in Vienna (24 page)

33

The next morning, they started early. Last night had ended too late or too early, depending on how you want to look at it. They both loved Guinness—a little too much, in fact. They made a pub run around Dublin. Around three-thirty, they had to go back to the hotel. If the pubs hadn’t closed, they would have stuck it out longer. They were rather drunk when they went to bed shortly before four.

“My head hurts,” Johanna complained in the morning as she pulled the covers over her head.

“You just can’t hold your alcohol,” Thomas said. He had already showered and gotten dressed.

“How do you do that?” Johanna exclaimed as she cast off the covers, threw him a disdainful look, and pulled the blankets over her head once more.

Rays of sunlight streamed into the room, moving precariously closer to where she lay.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Well, you’re in a good mood, you already took a shower, and now you’re up and ready to go. You really are Iron Man. You don’t have a headache?”

Thomas shook his head; he’d been a student once and was well versed in the art of drinking.

“We’re going sightseeing today,” Thomas announced as he pulled the covers off Johanna, exposing her tender body wrapped in a silk nightgown. “I hadn’t realized what a sexy nightie you were wearing,” he said, admiring her sexy, slender form. He wouldn’t have minded stripping off his jeans again.

“Yes, but that’ll have to wait, because I need to put something in my stomach,” she said, and jumped out of bed with ease, as if she’d slept for ten hours. “Ham and eggs it is.”

Thomas nodded as he handed her her jeans.

“Wait a sec; I have to take a shower.”

She disappeared into the spacious bathroom, then peered at herself in the mirror. She looked a little pale, so she slapped her cheeks to bring a little color to her face. In a flash, her cheeks looked naturally rosy.

After breakfast, they took off on a walk, taking in Dublin’s many priceless attractions. They took photo after photo of themselves making silly faces in front of landmarks and sculptures.

“But we can’t tell anybody.”

“What?” Johanna asked as they entered a small restaurant whose house specialty was Irish stew.

“Well, we’ve already taken almost two hundred photos in just two days—one-and-a-half days, to be exact. People are going to think we’re crazy!”

“You’re funny. Well, okay. I promise you that I won’t tell anyone. Word of honor.” She smirked as she sat down at one of the wooden tables on which patrons had carved their initials.

Some of them were easy to read, while others were practically unintelligible.

“Tomorrow, I think we should take a drive along the coast. What do you think?” Thomas ordered the Irish stew.

“Do you think the weather will be okay? I mean, it’s pretty cold out right now.”

“Yes, but the coast is breathtaking. I think we can even take the train if you’d like.”

“Well then, let’s do it.” Johanna examined the carved names on her side of the table; some were framed with a heart, others stood alone, other were cool and distant in the corner; there were several band names carved into the table, too. She traced her fingers over a large, pristine, artfully carved heart and pointed it out to Thomas. “Look.”

“Interesting,” he said as he dug out a Swiss Army knife from his pants. “I have just the thing,” he said.

As Johanna swooned, Thomas smiled and painstakingly carved their initials inside the heart.

“After we eat, let’s go see Trinity College. That’s not far from here, right?” she asked as she picked up her fork and knife. The server who brought their meals had smiled and nodded when he noticed the freshly carved “J + T” on the table.

“Yes, of course, and then we can go to the brewery.”

“Yes, to Guinness.”

“But don’t blame me tomorrow morning.”

“Thomas,” she said as he looked at her, “I have to make a confession.”

“All right. What is it?”

“Well, I told Martin about us, and of course Linda, too.”

“Okay. So how did they take it? I mean, it was just a matter of time. After all, he’s your brother.”

She took a bite of her stew. “He took it pretty well. I invited both of them for dinner at my house this week, a kind of a double date.”

“Okay. When exactly?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“I have to fly to New York on Thursday, but any time before that will work.”

“Good. Then I’ll just check with Martin and Linda. Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me; it’s my pleasure. I look forward to it.”

34

The weekend in Dublin went by very quickly; they both would have liked to stay a few more days. They were interested in the same things, laughed a lot, and took countless photos—305, to be exact. They bought some nice souvenirs and discovered their unrivaled love for Guinness, or at least Johanna did.

“I wasn’t so crazy about the food there,” Johanna told Paolo when he asked her about Dublin. “But the Guinness was outstanding.”

“And how did things go with Thomas? I mean, it was your first vacation together!”

“Weekend trip,” Johanna corrected, because in her opinion, there was a clear distinction between the two. Vacations lasted longer than two nights, and you had to go to the ocean or to the mountains. Vacations were supposed to be a kind of test for couples in the early stages of their relationship. Of course, Johanna didn’t know that firsthand, since she’d never had a serious relationship or traveled with a boyfriend before.

Thomas, on the other hand, had been a globetrotter, especially when he was with Clarissa. They’d gone to the United States, Egypt, Croatia, Turkey, Italy, Spain, Portugal, the United Arab Emirates, Mauritius, and Malta. Johanna knew about some of their travels because her brother had told her. Thomas had always had to indulge Clarissa. She had decided where to eat, when she wanted to go back to the hotel from the beach, what sights they would see, what activities they’d take part in, and even how long they stayed. It hadn’t been a proper test of their relationship but, rather, a perpetual yielding by Thomas to Clarissa’s desires. “It’s your own fault,” Clarissa would say if he complained about anything. “You’re the one who planned the trip, aren’t you?”

“Well, was it lovely?” asked Paolo.

“Yes, totally. Dublin is really worth seeing; though it’s a little too cold for my tastes this time of year.”

“Well, the island certainly isn’t famous for its sunbathing. But I’m not terribly interested in the weather; I’m interested in you and Thomas . . .”

The plans for New York became more and more concrete.

“We’ll be sending you over in two months, and it’s looking like you should plan to stay for a while,” his uncle said as he read the latest progress reports on the new branch.

Thomas knew what that would mean.

“Do you want to do this? You seem so pensive.”

“Yes, I do, but I have a new girlfriend, and I don’t know how this is going to work with me over there and her here . . .”

“Can’t you take her with you?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I have to talk to her; she doesn’t know anything about it yet.”

“You should do that soon. Is the relationship serious?”

Thomas nodded, then said, “Definitely.”

“Then there’s no choice but to talk it over with her.”

35

Johanna invited Martin and Linda over for dinner on Wednesday. Thomas arrived in the late afternoon to help her set the table and wash the salad greens. She wanted take care of the entrée herself.

“I feel like such an amateur next to you,” Thomas complained.

“At least in one area,” Johanna said as she mashed up some potatoes.

Thomas took a sip from his beer, which he had brought since Johanna never had any around.

“Are you nervous?”

“What makes you think that? Because I’m drinking a beer?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“That’s so sweet!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t say ‘sweet.’ A man’s not supposed to be sweet,” he said, tickling her.

“Stop, we have a lot to do.”

“You have a lot to do, but my salad is ready and the table’s all set.”

“Okay, then get out of my kitchen.”

“I’m already gone,” Thomas declared.

He looked out the living-room window onto the street below to catch a glimpse of Martin and Linda’s imminent arrival. Once they reached the parking lot, it would be less than three minutes until they rang the doorbell.

Johanna had put the white wine on ice, and she checked to see that it was cooling properly, very important since she and Linda were wine drinkers. She still wasn’t crazy about beer other than Guinness.

“They’re coming,” Thomas shouted to the kitchen from his guard post.

“Great. No problem. It’s going to be a lovely evening.” Johanna hoped she was right about that.

“Hello, Thomas,” said Martin warmly to his old friend.

“So great to see you,” Thomas said. They gave each other a high five, a greeting they’d used since their student days.

“I brought a bottle of wine,” Linda said as she surrendered a little wine bag to Johanna.

“And for you or for both of us, we brought beer. It’s already cold,” said Martin.

“You know what’s kind of funny?” Johanna asked as she looked at both men. “Thomas brought beer, too.”

Johanna had acquired the chef’s habit of inspecting her plates to see that she’d arranged the food just right before sending them out to the table. She would tilt her head left, then right, nod when she was satisfied, and then pick up the next plate. The disadvantage to this ritual was that the food would sometimes get cold, but that didn’t matter to her because she had a penchant for culinary perfection that was stronger than the desire for a warm dish. She had such a talent for food styling that Thomas had once suggested that she start a career in it. Johanna had no idea what he was talking about. Thanks to Google, though, she would close that knowledge gap in a very short time.

“Wow, you’ve outdone yourself, Johanna,” gushed Linda, who had saved her appetite all day.

“You two were in Dublin?” Martin asked Thomas, and he started to tell them about their short trip. Martin was familiar with the city because he’d gone there with Thomas and a few other friends years back, kind of a boys’ trip. Martin was one of the guys who’d thrown up.

“Oh, the lovely poteen,” he sighed, and left it at that, as if to say that what happened in Dublin would stay in Dublin.

“Did you see the game the day before yesterday? It was awesome, wasn’t it?”

Thomas nodded. In order to see it, he’d left work early and watched it for a few hours without Johanna around. In hindsight, it had been a wise decision, as the soccer game was indeed awesome. Thomas pulled out his smartphone, and the two men watched clips of the best goals. They got so excited that they almost decided to watch the whole match again—just as Johanna was serving dessert. She shot Thomas a look, waving the mango cream right under his nose. He got the message immediately.

“Let’s watch that a little later. How are the wedding plans coming along?” Thomas asked.

At first, Linda was a bit reticent, but she became more enthusiastic as she opened up about her plans. She shared her ideas about potential venues, which she had come up with practically single-handedly.

Martin only nodded.

“Our wonderful florist recommended purple flowers.”

Martin nodded.

“The bridesmaids will wear pale yellow.”

Martin nodded.

“We haven’t decided on my dress yet, but we’ll figure that out next, right?” Linda looked at Johanna.

Martin nodded.

Thomas looked at Martin. “Are you planning to go, too?”

Martin started to nod absentmindedly, but caught the joke in time. He hated wedding planning, but he loved Linda; he trusted her to make the right decisions for a perfect day.

“Yes, next week we’ll go look at some wedding dresses,” Johanna said as she wiped some mango cream off Thomas’s chin.

Linda and Martin left a little before midnight.

“It was such a lovely, relaxed evening, don’t you think?” Johanna asked as she washed the dishes.

“Yes, it was quite lovely,” Thomas said. He was pretty tipsy and Johanna was, too; she and Linda had split almost two bottles of wine.

“They thought your cooking was delicious. Sweetheart, you are a gifted cook,” Thomas said proudly, then kissed her and held her close.

“Thank you,
sweetheart
.”
Since when does he use a word like “sweetheart”?
Johanna thought, and let him reach under her T-shirt.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You have to get up early tomorrow morning.”

“But we’re not going to be seeing each other for a couple of days,” Thomas said as he picked her up and brought her to bed.

Johanna couldn’t resist his deliciously erotic touches.

36

“Thomas, you have to get to the airport,” Johanna cried, and shook Thomas rudely from his dreams.

“It’s late. Shit!” he said as he sprang out of bed, stumbled over the mountain of clothes that had piled up next to their bed the night before, then disappeared into the bathroom to speed-brush his teeth. Then he tucked his toothbrush away in his overnight bag while Johanna, fast as lightning, threw some salami and ham into a sandwich roll and wrapped it in foil.

“Here,” she said. “Don’t forget your sandwich.”

It was no wonder they’d overslept; they’d stayed up way too late last night. Thomas grabbed his suitcase, stuffed a small bottle of mineral water from the fridge into his briefcase, and then kissed Johanna good-bye. Then an “I love you” burst out of his mouth. Johanna froze as he disappeared through the door. His unplanned profession of love hit him when he was in the taxi. He didn’t regret anything about it, though, because it was true. He was in love.

Johanna, meanwhile, was beside herself. It was still so early in their relationship for him to have said that. And worse, she hadn’t replied. Should she have said it, too? What if something happened to Thomas on his trip, and she hadn’t professed her love for him? Then her bland, unromantic last words, “Don’t forget your sandwich,” would be the last thing she ever said to him. Would Thomas be sitting in the taxi or at the airport, brooding over her silence? Hopefully, he knew that he’d run out of the house too fast for her to have a chance to respond appropriately. Besides, she felt the same way. She wasn’t just in love, she was
really
in love.