Wait for Me in Vienna (28 page)

Thomas felt warmer, as though someone had turned up the heat. He loosened his tie.

New York, 5:00 p.m.: What does it look like?

Vienna, 11:03 p.m.: No comment.

Thomas wondered what she would have chosen. Something soft, not too sexy, with a little detail, probably elegant yet playful.

Johanna thought it over. She would probably want to wear something soft and sweet, with a modest neckline. Something elegant yet playful. Should she suggest that the only question now was who would stand next to her at the altar?

New York, 5:07 p.m.: Is Ms. Johanna always so reticent?

Vienna, 11:10 p.m.: She definitely is.

Thomas laughed.

Vienna, 11:15 p.m.: But you should be the one who unzips the dress.

New York, 5:18 p.m.: So, we’re still in a relationship? I feel so reassured.

“Silly man,” Johanna exclaimed into the telephone when he picked up. “Only you and no one else!”

“Well, now, I think that’s pretty good.”

“Pretty good?”

Thomas laughed again.

“You know what I mean. I would be totally depressed, crying in my beer, hassling strangers, and probably throwing myself off a bridge if I weren’t your one and only.”

Johanna felt reassured.

“Did Linda find a dress?”

“Yes, she did. It’s fantastic; it really suits her. You’ll see it soon. However, you’re not allowed to unzip it.”

“Okay, agreed . . . I wouldn’t want to unzip it, especially if you promise me that I can unzip yours one of these days.” He paused as he gazed at his calendar. “The end of September will be here before you know it,” he said.

“Martin and Linda chose a great month to get married,” Johanna said with a sigh. Time was flying by since she and Thomas had gotten back together. “Okay, let’s talk about something other than wedding dresses. What’s new in New York?” she said, changing the subject to relieve both their nerves.

They chatted for about an hour and discussed possible vacation plans and destinations; France and Italy ranked pretty high.

“We’ll need to discuss that later,” said Thomas. “I have to hang up now. Duty calls. I have a lot of work to finish before I jump back on that plane tomorrow.”

49

The sun shone brightly in the heavens. The pleasant temperatures of early June had given way to a mild heat wave. If it kept on going like this, Johanna would need an air conditioner in her apartment, or she’d be unable to bear the heat in July and August. She couldn’t imagine how much she would sweat as she sat melting in her living room, her feet in a bucket of ice water. At the cooking school, everyone talked about June’s abnormally high temperatures, dismissing them with “it’s unusual, but it’ll be over soon.”

It was June 19, the momentous day that Thomas would return. He nervously looked out of his airplane window onto the city below, searching for Johanna’s apartment. However, from this distance, the houses looked as small as peas. He had a vague idea where Johanna’s place was, but the airplane was too far away to pinpoint it. The seat-belt sign lit up, and a few minutes later, the pilot landed the plane safely. Some of the passengers clapped. Why did they do that? Would they clap when the dentist did a textbook job of pulling a tooth without killing his patient?

During the applause, Thomas unbuckled his seat belt at lightning speed and was the first to stand up, much to the annoyance of the gentleman sitting in the seat next to him. Typically, Thomas—Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected himself—waited patiently until all the passengers got up and moved slowly toward the exit. Only then would he pick up his carry-on and be one of the last guests to exit the aircraft. After all, his luggage wouldn’t be on the carousel any sooner without him. No need to hurry and bump into people. This time was different, though. Thomas became “The Shover” as restlessness and his overwhelming desire to see Johanna as soon as possible got the best of him.

She straightened her dress. She had worn the Desigual dress especially for today. It was the one Thomas liked so much. She brushed off two imaginary pieces of lint before the sliding glass door that led to baggage claim opened and the passengers walked out casually. Thomas wasn’t there yet; he was waiting impatiently at the carousel and looking repeatedly at the exit, hoping each time the doors opened to spot the object of his desire. The other object of his desire was the large black rolling suitcase with a crack on one side, which he hoped to spot on the conveyor belt. He was afraid that if he kept looking for Johanna, he might miss his suitcase and have to wait even longer as it took another lap. His patience was put to the test and the suitcase came out dead last—Murphy’s Law in action.

No surprise
, Thomas thought as he heaved the rugged suitcase from the conveyor belt and ran through the frosted doors to the airport lobby. As if he had sensed where she was, his eyes fell right on Johanna and hers on Thomas. As she grinned, she held her breath, then stopped counting the minutes and seconds until they were reunited. She let him take her into his arms.

“I missed you so much,” he said as he hugged her tightly, stroked her hair, then kissed her—all in a matter of seconds.

Johanna dug her fingers into his back and thought back to the farewell scene almost three weeks ago. She tried to block out thoughts of him leaving again, knowing he could stay only three days. Three short days. The thought distressed her, but she tried to be optimistic and told herself,
We have three full days just for us.

It was Thursday evening. Johanna didn’t have to work tomorrow, and Thomas had to fly back first thing Monday morning. They had eighty-six hours and fourteen minutes, she calculated as she stared at the clock in the airport lobby. It almost seemed as if the clock began counting down their time together as soon as they embraced.

“What should we do?” asked Thomas.

“Whatever you want,” she replied.

He was thrilled to be back. He gazed out of the taxi window, then back to Johanna, kissed her, looked out of the window again, took her hand, stroked her, and kissed her again. He would have done anything for her, but the most important thing was just that he was close to her once again.

“I didn’t make any plans for tonight,” she said as she pressed her body closer to his.

“Great. I like that.”

“Did you plan things for later?” she asked.

“Yes, first thing tomorrow morning and maybe for Saturday.”

“What?”

“I want to go see my parents again, with you, of course. They would love to have us over for dinner. Either tomorrow or Saturday, whatever works for you.”

Oh, yes, long overdue
, Johanna thought, but at the same time, she was nervous. Her last appearance there was still quite embarrassing to her, but it was better to try again sooner rather than later. She couldn’t hide from them forever.

“Why not? How about Saturday night?” She ran her fingers through Thomas’s hair and lightly massaged his scalp.

“That’ll work. I’ll call my parents right away. They’ll want to know that I landed safely.” Thomas turned on his cell phone.

As he made his call, Johanna scrutinized his hands and his pallid face. It seemed he had acquired some small wrinkles since she’d seen him last. Thomas looked exhausted and stressed out as he spoke to his mother on the phone. She apparently wanted to know all about New York, asking him about the weather, traffic, exchange rate, theater, and restaurants.

“Mama, we’ll talk all about this Saturday. Johanna’s sitting next to me; we just got a taxi.”

His mother immediately understood and said good-bye to him. She also told Thomas to send her fondest greetings to Johanna.

“Let me take a good look at you,” said Thomas as she walked through the apartment door. “You look beautiful as usual.”

“I do believe you’re flirting with me,” she teased.

“Indeed I am,” he replied as he pulled her closer.

“You look a little tired,” she said as she touched his weary face. “Weren’t you able to sleep on the airplane?”

“Yes, but not for very long. I was too excited to see you.”

“You’re the cutest,” she said as she took his hand.

“My plants look far better when you take care of them,” he said as he went through his apartment, making a cursory visual inspection.

“It’s no big deal. I just talked to them, sang to them, ate dinner with them, read them a bedtime story—the usual stuff. I’m an expert on plant care, but I can teach you how to do it, too.”

Thomas looked at Johanna and admired the small beauty mark on her left cheek. Why it caught his eye right now, he didn’t know, but he scrutinized it thoroughly.

“I like your beauty mark,” he said, when Johanna gave him a somewhat perplexed look as he continued to stare at her face.

“My beauty mark? You just now noticed it?” she asked.

“I guess so, I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s always been there, even before we knew each other.”

“Yes, but this is the first time I’ve really noticed it in all its glorious detail.”

As usual, Johanna had already prepared something delicious, and this time, they managed to eat it before hopping into bed and spending the rest of the night there. Their hearts throbbed with joy as they made love tenderly, passionately, longingly, and devotedly. The flame of love burned deep inside their souls.

It was dark outside, then daylight broke; people walked down the street or dashed to catch streetcars and subways. Some were walking their dogs, some were making their obligatory shopping runs at the Naschmarkt, and others met for breakfast in nice cafés. They chatted, told each other countless stories, and debated the existence of God as they tried to solve the world’s problems; they also discussed politics, the current economic situation, health problems, and the weather.

Above them all, in a penthouse apartment in the fourth district, two people were missing everything that was happening below. They lay fast asleep, feeling safe and sound, their limbs entwined around each other, unaware of the world outside their windows. Johanna and Thomas were as one again for the weekend, happily oblivious to everyday events. They only had eyes for each other. The world could have been coming to an end, and they probably would have been the last ones to know. Friday went by quickly; they inhaled and exhaled 17,280 times each, and went to the bathroom approximately six times each. They ate three times; drank about a half gallon of water, tea, and coffee; they showered once—together. They ate two-and-a-half large pieces of apple pie from the nearby bakery, took a nap on the couch around noon, said a thousand words, had sex twice, and fell asleep again around eleven in the evening. That was Friday.

50

“Stop it! Help! Stop!”

Thomas tickled Johanna and kissed her as though he had just won her in a championship game.

“Are you going to make me breakfast now?”

“No, you’re the one that bragged about your egg dishes in your e-mails, so it’s your turn. I already bought everything,” Johanna said. She continued to giggle as she tried to tickle Thomas back or at least free herself from his clutches.

Thomas grinned and let her go.

Well, good
, he thought as he stood up. He came back wearing his rabbit foot’s apron and chef’s hat.

“Whatever the signora
wants, because I make-a dee best-a egga-disha with-a so much amore for my girlfriend,” he said, then pursed his lips as he leaned against the door frame.

Johanna laughed and threw the blanket over her head. “I’m looking forward to it,” she cried in his direction as he left the bedroom.

He turned around one more time as he pointed a wooden spoon in her direction. “You’ll be on cloud nine when you taste my delicious meal.”

“Excellent,” she said after Thomas served the eggs.

“Certainly, you’re capable of doing other things as well,” Johanna noted as she chewed.

“You mean like vacuuming?” said Thomas.

“I mean cooking! But if you want to vacuum, I would have no problem with that. I’ll cook, you clean.”

Thomas looked puzzled. “But I’m paying a cleaning lady,” he said, and looked around the apartment just in case. He climbed on a chair and stroked the highest kitchen shelf with his index finger. He turned the clean finger around to scrutinize it more closely, then said, “Yes, my cleaning lady is a gem.”

The wonderful lady’s name was Silvia. She was from Bulgaria and was decades older than Thomas. Her face was wrinkly, and she was quite overweight, but she was also agile, reliable, and energetic when it came to cleaning. Nothing escaped her attention, not one piece of lint or speck of dust. There were no streaks on the windows, either. She’d come highly recommended by Gabriele.

On the way to see Thomas’s parents, Johanna tried to stay relaxed. Fine, so she hadn’t made the best first impression, but that just meant tonight would be a major improvement. Just in case, she took some vitamin C and immune-enhancing homeopathic drops to keep from getting sick again.

“So wonderful that you both could come,” Thomas’s mother exclaimed as she embraced her son. “Hello, Johanna! Come in, come in.” In her excitement, she barely made room for Karl to greet the couple.

They sat down at the big table; the wine and water glasses were set perfectly, the carefully folded linen napkins placed neatly on white plates. The table was also set with cutlery of every shape and size. It reminded Johanna of a scene from
Pretty Woman
. An eye-catching arrangement of white calla lilies adorned the middle of the table, on which a regal-looking linen tablecloth sat.

Gabriele brought the appetizer, smoked trout.

“This comes from an organic, sustainable fish farm in Styria,” Thomas’s mother explained proudly. “Thomas told me that you place great value on such things.”

Johanna nodded happily.

The fish was excellent.

“I trust that you’ve recovered from the last time you were here?” asked Henriette. She took a sip of water as she looked at Johanna.

“Yes, thank you, but it took a little while.”

“Yes, viruses can be so tenacious.”

“How was New York?” asked Karl.

Thomas gave a detailed report, perhaps too detailed, about the current business situation. Karl was very interested, and he and Thomas kept talking while Johanna and Henriette discussed the culinary arts.

After the main course—a delicious beef Wellington—Gabriele served a raspberry mousse for dessert.

“Just a little something light,” Henriette said as she picked up her dessert spoon. “How long have you lived in Vienna?” Henriette asked Johanna.

“Several months now.”

“Do you like the city?”

“Yes, it’s lovely. There’s so much to do here.”

“Oh, yes. It just received yet another award for being such a livable city,” said Henriette, her voice filled with pride. “I was born in Vienna; I couldn’t imagine living in a better place in the entire world.”

Of course! No one in their right mind would move away from such a beautiful home
,
Johanna thought.

“Oh, and Vienna is such a great place to raise children. As a child, Thomas spent all his time in the backyard. He would gather all the leaves together in a big pile so that the hedgehog would have a place to live,” Henriette reminisced. She was so proud of her son, because, as she always said, he had such a good heart.

Thomas thought about it. “Yes, that’s right, I gathered leaves for Mr. Quillhead,” he said as his parents grinned.

“You had a hedgehog named Mr. Quillhead?”

Thomas nodded. “Yes, he was very small and had lost his mother. We took him to the vet and bottle-fed him.”

“That’s so sweet,” Johanna exclaimed.
How touching
, she mused. She took a sip of her wine.

“Your family’s from the country?” Karl asked. He already knew because of Martin.

“Yes, that’s right,” she said, though actually her town had grown over the years, and it wasn’t all that rural anymore. She thought for a moment how sad it was that she and Martin were the only family left now.

“We were so sorry to hear about your parents’ accident,” Henriette said softly.

“Please accept our deepest condolences,” Karl said sincerely.

“Thank you,” Johanna replied, smiling bravely. “You kind words mean a lot to me.”

Karl nodded, then quickly changed the subject.

“I’d like to smoke a cigar. Thomas, would you like to join me?”

The men excused themselves.

“I can show you Thomas’s baby albums; he was such a sweet boy. I mean, he still is, but whenever I call him ‘sweet,’ he gets a bit snippy. He’s a grown man now, but in a mother’s eyes, her children will always be her babies.” Henriette snatched up one of the eight blue photo books from the bookshelf.

“We took so many photos, but I’ll just show you my favorite album,” she said as she started to leaf through it: Thomas in the bathtub, Thomas dressed up like a ghost, Thomas blowing out the candles on his birthday cake, Thomas in his swimsuit on the beach, Thomas screaming with his mouth wide open, Thomas having a temper tantrum because he wasn’t allowed to have ice cream, Thomas kissing a little girl on the cheek, and tons of other snapshots from his childhood.

Johanna liked one of the shots in particular. It was a photograph of Thomas as a groom; next to him was a little blonde girl wrapped up in a lace curtain. Johanna pointed at the picture.

Henriette laughed.

“Was that for Mardi Gras?”

“Oh, no. That’s a cute story. He was marrying Bettina there because she promised to give him her
Mickey Mouse
magazine collection. The extortion attempt was successful, so we had to hold a marriage ceremony in the garden, with music, dancing, cake, and the whole hubbub.”

Johanna found the story quite entertaining.

“They even took a honeymoon in the kiddie pool.” Henriette laughed as she recalled the entire wedding as if it were happening before her eyes.

“What happened to Bettina? Does she still live in Vienna?”

“No, she moved away many years ago. She lives in Tyrol. She’s married with two children. As a mother, you sometimes wish your kids would never grow up and move out. Unfortunately, it’s inevitable. Sometime or other, children have to leave the nest,” Henriette said, a touch of sadness in her voice.

At that moment, Johanna missed her mother and her father more than ever. Their family photo albums ended abruptly when she hit fifteen.

The evening went well. They stayed till midnight, when fatigue set in for everyone.

“We should probably head back now,” Thomas said as he patted around for his car keys in his jacket pocket.

“Good idea. I’m getting kind of tired.”

“I’m so happy you both came!” Henriette said as she hugged her son.

“Yeah, it was nice to spend less time in the bathroom,” Johanna joked.

Henriette seized the opportunity to give her maybe-future-daughter-in-law a hug.

Karl was a bit more distant when he said his good-byes, but later he told his wife that Johanna’s sweet spirit thoroughly charmed him.

“They definitely like you,” Thomas said with satisfaction after they climbed into the car.

“Did you expect anything else?” Johanna teased.

“No, you should have let me finish my sentence, because I was about to add that I expected nothing less!”

Johanna nodded cheerfully as Thomas put the car in reverse to back out of the driveway. “I like them, too.”