Heroine: The Husband's Cologne (8 page)

BOOK: Heroine: The Husband's Cologne
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My lord
, I thought. 
Doesn't this guy ever stop?

To my relief, Erich called it a night.  We woke Tanja up, put on whatever clothes were still to be found (I threw my torn thong into the trash), and shuffled upstairs.  Our guests took their leave, and this time, I spent what remained of the night in Erich's majestic bed.

 

Farewell in Frankfurt 

 

   I woke up around noon, roused by the sound of clattering dishes and the scent of fresh coffee.  Erich peered through the open door into the bedroom.  As he saw that I was awake, he disappeared briefly and came back with a large tray on which lay a full breakfast and half a bottle of Champagne, most probably left over from the previous night.

“How are you this morning?  How did you sleep?” He set the tray down on a side table, bent down to me and kissed me on the forehead.  His dark-blue bathrobe stood half open and brushed against my nose.  I felt utterly exhausted, and told him so.

“I'm not surprised, you were quite active last night,” he said laughing. 

“Active?  What do you mean?” I
asked, my voice hoarse.

“What do I mean?  You did me a great service and screwed Horst senseless.”

“Horst? Oh my god, I remember now.”  I shook my head, as the memory came rolling over me like a freight train: excitement, fear and shame all at once. 

We talked awhile, reliving moments from the previous night and enjoying breakfast.  But it was only after I had soothed my hangover with a glass of Champagne did the details from the night begin to return.  I didn't know what to make of it exactly; I had mixed feelings.  On the one hand, I was glad to have done something to help Erich, even though he hadn't reached his goal.  The images I could recall were alone enough to make me wet.  At the same time, I was ashamed at having let myself go like that.  Needless to say, I was torn. 

“When can we see each other again?” Erich asked, as he dropped me off at my door later that afternoon.

“Next week?”  I shrugged, without giving it any thought. 

“I'll call you,” Erich replied, “or you can call me, if there is anything you need.”

I nodded, feeling a little drowsy. 

“First I need a bed and plenty of rest,” I told him.

As I got into my flat, I wondered why I hadn't just stayed at Erich's place.  It was more comfortable there, and I could have easily settled in as his little playmate.  And with the money that he had...

But then I thought of the events of the previous night and shook my head again.

What Erich needs is a sex toy, not a girlfriend,
I thought angrily.  On the other hand, I was partly responsible for putting him in this situation.  I just didn't know whether or not I should feel used or whether I had enjoyed the night more than I was willing to admit to myself.  I would have to sleep on it. 

At some point later I was roused awake by the phone; I had dozed off on the couch.  It was Daniel.  Slowly I emerged from my slumber.

“Hi baby, how did your evening with Tanja go?” my husband inquired.

With Tanja?
  How did he know...? 
And then I remembered; I had called him from the restaurant in Bonn, telling him that I was out with a girlfriend.  My heart went from a pounding crescendo to a reasonable pulse within seconds, as I summarized my evening for him:

“Wow, it was quite a night.  We made the rounds of a
few bars and we were so buzzed that I ended up spending the night at her place.”

“Oh, that's why I couldn't reach you this morning.  I needed to talk to you.”

I was relieved to have thought of the Tanja story.  I don't think I would have been able to come up with an elaborate excuse in my condition.  And what Daniel had to say next was something I had sensed was coming, although it still left me breathless when he said it:

“I'm so sorry, but I have some bad news.  I'm ashamed to even say it, but I won't be coming home this weekend either.  I have to travel urgently to the U.S., to San Francisco.”

“What?  You're not coming home for the weekend,
again
?”  My fear and guilt had promptly vanished; now I was pissed off and insulted.  My husband was leaving me high and dry once again.  Why were we even married?

“Baby, it's as hard for me as it is for you,” I heard Daniel say, as if from afar.

“My boss has insisted I fly to California to lend a hand to our colleagues.  It's total chaos over there and we have to have the chips on the market by the end of the year.  I'm the only one who can oversee the procedure.”

“Chips, what kind of chips?”
  I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.  As if it mattered anyway; all I knew was that I was going to be alone for another week, at least.

“I thought you were working in electronics or something.  What do chips have to do with it?”

“They're electronic building blocks, they're known as chips.”  My husband's voice seemed anxious. 

“And how long are you going to be away?  Are you
coming home the following weekend?” 

I could hear him clear his throat over the phone.  I feared the worst.

“Please, don't get upset,” I heard his voice grow faint.  Now I did get upset.  “I have to stay there for at least three weeks.  My flight leaves tomorrow evening, from Frankfurt.  I'll be taking the train to Frankfurt, and then I'll go from there.”

I was so perplexed, that I didn't even know what to say.  Three weeks without Daniel?  At least!

“Does that mean it could be even longer before we see each other again?” I stammered into the receiver.  For a moment there was no answer.  Then he said:

“The plan is for three weeks.  If everything goes well, I'll be back then.”

It didn't sound very convincing. 

“Can we see each other once more before you leave?” I asked, dejected.  The feeling of abandonment, which had plagued me for months, was now slowly creeping back into me. 

“That's why I tried to reach you this morning.  I wanted to ask you to come to Frankfurt, so that we could hold each other once more before I have to go.”

I felt weak and helpless. Any strength I had ebbed from me.  There was a knot in my stomach, and where the previous night I had felt profound lust, now there was a spreading sense of pain. 

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” I whispered. 

We agreed to meet the following afternoon. I was to take the train to Frankfurt, get out at the airport and we would spend a couple of hours together before his flight.

I hung up and collapsed with cramps in my belly. I dragged myself to the bathroom and swallowed a painkiller.  It was too late to shower, and besides, I had already showered earlier in the day before leaving Erich's place.  As I recalled Erich's eyes on me when I was washing the soap from myself in the shower, I felt myself calm down a little.  I felt betrayed by Daniel, and I was happy to have someone like Erich around, whom I felt I could trust. 

That night I slept deeply and without dreams, until the alarm clock tore me from sleep the next morning.  The train was at 10 o'clock, which gave me an hour to wallow in my foul mood.  On top of this, I had started my period, which dragged me down even further.

 

When the sun is out, the ride through the Rhine Valley is remarkably beautiful.  Today the sun had granted me this favor, and slowly I emerged from my wistful mood. The train I was on made its way leisurely through the cities of Bonn, Koblenz and Mainz, and I was able to enjoy the view of the hillside castles and vineyards.  From time to time I dozed, and to my surprise, I dreamed of Norman. 

In Frankfurt I changed trains and boarded the rickety local train to the airport.  It was my first time in an airport.  My folks had never travelled farther than Austria, and taking an airplane had never been an option for us.  That's why I was a little frightened by the pandemonium that greeted me when I got there.  I wondered whether I would ever be able to find Daniel amid such confusion.  However, with the aid of the cell phone, we were in each other's arms in less than 15 minutes. 

We had two hours to kill before Daniel had to go
through security.  We used the time to talk at length and joke around.  I felt no trace of the abandonment I had felt the day before, and was simply happy to share the moment with Daniel.  In my mirthful mood I chatted away as if freshly in love, and to be honest, that's how I felt at that moment.  We didn't talk of anything deep, or of anything emotional for that matter.  He spoke to me of his chips, which I still imagined looked like potato chips, although I knew by now that they were small black pieces of plastic with lots of little gold-colored legs.  I sensed how proud he was to have been chosen to oversee this new assignment. 

In turn, I told him about my internship in a Bonn clinic, and the new semester that was beginning the following week. 

“Can't you move to Stuttgart and join me, when I'm back from this assignment?” he asked me quietly.  “I miss you so much, I can hardly sleep.”

“I miss you too,” I said instinctively. “I'll think about it.  They say the university down there is pretty good.  And I'm sure if I try hard enough, I'll be able to get along with the Bavarians,” I said with a brave face. 

Daniel laughed.  I looked at him puzzled.

“I think you'll have a hard time finding a Bavarian.  It's almost exclusively
Swabians down there.  I know the preconceptions the Cologne natives have about them, after all I'm from Cologne, too.  But Stuttgart is really a pleasant and beautiful city.  We're wrong about them.”

So we talked for a while, until it was time for him to board the plane.  Before he left, I asked Daniel if he could explain the ins and outs of the airport, since to me it looked all but impenetrable.  We went over to the check-
in counter then made our way to the security checkpoint.  We hugged for a few minutes, and then he was gone.  I was alone again.

On the way home I couldn't hold back my tears and burst out crying into a handful of tissues.  Until Koblenz, I was alone in the train compartment, and I drew the curtains closed so that no one from outside could see me.  The conductor came by a couple of times and gave me a sympathetic look, but didn't say anything.

When I got back to Cologne, I took a detour through the old market place and treated myself to a dinner in a small café, before trudging back to my apartment.  The stillness that greeted me was like a boulder landing on my head, and I decided to crawl into bed early.  I spent the next two days preparing for the start of the semester.  As I had already acquired the preparatory diploma, I now had to organize the internship, deal with the administrative formalities and discuss the seminars with my tutor.  The absences that I had permitted myself during the winter semester would not go unnoticed for much longer. 

On Friday afternoon Daniel called me from California.  He had arrived safely and had already settled into his workplace.  The firm was not actually in San Francisco but farther south in Palo Alto.  He spoke of the wonderful weather and sunshine and sounded so thrilled, that I couldn't do anything else but be happy for him. 

For my part, I took advantage of the weekend to drive back to my home town for the first time in a long while.  It was a sobering experience.  I found that nothing had changed, and I felt out of place, in spite of the fact that my father and neighbors welcomed me warmly and were evidently happy to see me.  Without Daniel at my side, I was simply the girl from the old days, and I didn't care for that anymore.

As I returned to my flat on Sunday evening, the phone rang.  My heart leaped with joy as I heard Erich's voice on the other end. 

“I was away for a few days.  I trust you're doing fine and aren't angry with me?” he asked, his voice hesitant. 

“Why should I be angry?” I asked, puzzled. 

“Well, because I might have overwhelmed you with my demands last Tuesday,” he sputtered like a young boy. 

I laughed out loud. 

“You didn't overwhelm me, I had fun and I was happy that I could help you in some way,” I countered.  I even surprised myself with this comment.  Where had my feelings of guilt suddenly gone? 

“I'm relieved to hear that.  So when can we see each other again?”

“Whenever you want, I have plenty of time.”

There was a pause. 

“Then why not tonight?  We can go out to dinner and chat a little.”

“Great,” I squeaked, “I'm excited.  When are you coming over?”

We made an appointment for 9 o'clock; enough time for me to shower and change clothes.  As I hung up the phone, I began having doubts.  Was it really me who had told him those things?  Where was the confusion and insecurity I had felt after the performance I had given the other night?  What about my guilty conscience regarding Daniel?  And yet I felt the guilt slowly re-emerging, and with it a tightening of my neck muscles. 

I'll call Daniel now, and tell him that everything is fine,
I thought to myself.  This thought seemed to put me at ease. 

Six p.m., my time
is  9 a.m., in California,
I thought to myself. 
I'll still be able to reach him. 

On the fifth ring he picked up.  Although it was Sunday, he was at the office and couldn't spare much time.  We reassured each other of our love, and I put down the phone.  I felt buoyed by the phone call, and after a leisurely shower I rummaged through my wardrobe. 

This time I'm toning it down. The Little Red  Riding  Hood outfit is out of the question.  For good.

BOOK: Heroine: The Husband's Cologne
3.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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