Distractions. Part 19

"It's incredible; there are no words to describe what I am feeling right now."

"Violet, I'm sorry for earlier. I was out of line. I didn't mean to say that about you; you're not broken. If anyone is, it's me. That's still not an excuse, though. I was wrong."

He walked to the edge of the deck with his hands laced in his hair, breathing out deeply. I knew he was struggling just as much as I was. Our emotions were running out of control and we were taking them out on each other. Stepping softly behind him, I placed my hand in between his shoulder blades and pressed lightly. His head dropped before he turned around and held the sides of my face in his hands.

He dipped slightly and held his lips against my forehead. "Thank you." As he reached down to hold my hand, we started to walk towards the balcony.

"Where are we going?"

Shepard started to laugh as he led me out of the house and over to the small path next door.

"Next door to my neighbor, Ingrid's. I ran over there to pick up my mail and she doesn't believe I have a girl with me. I told her we would come over, so I hope you don't mind. She wants us to join her for dinner."

Trusting that Shepard wouldn't put me into another panic inducing situation, I didn't resist. He didn't knock as we came around to the door, simply yelling that we were there. A small older blond woman with sparkling blue eyes rounded the corner with enthusiasm. Looking me up and down, she turned to Shepard and wagged her eyebrows.

"You brought me a live one. Come, let's get some coffee."

I instantly loved her. She was warm and inviting, the way you imagine every grandmother should be. Her house was covered wall to wall with photos of her loved ones. Handcrafted quilts folded delicately were placed across the arms of her sofa and rocking chair. Two fluffy cats slept curled up together in a basket full of yarn skeins. The smell of simmering tomatoes permeated the air, causing my stomach to rumble. Shepard moved about the kitchen with her, grabbing dishes to set the table.

"This is why your kitchen doesn't look like it's ever been used." Giving a wink, I picked up a piece of cheese that was set on a platter along with sliced meat and fresh pretzels.

Ingrid laughed heartily at my observation. After pinching his hips, she walked over to the table and placed her hand on my shoulder. "I enjoy having his handsome face over for dinner every night. He keeps me company since my children have all moved away. My granddaughter, Margaret, will be devastated to know she has lost her boyfriend."

Glancing at Shepard, I didn't correct her a.s.sumption about me. I just inquired about who Margaret was. She plucked a photo from her refrigerator of Shepard and a small girl of about four, blowing bubbles in the suns.h.i.+ne. He looked so happy; my heart was overflowing, seeing him with her. I cradled the photo in my hand lovingly. It brought me peace to know that Ingrid and Shepard had each other. She doted on him as if she were his own mother; their interactions were as natural as breathing. I placed the photo back in its spot after dinner and helped Ingrid clear the table and wash the dishes. As I was drying the last pan, she wrapped her hand around my waist and looked directly at Shepard.

"There's something special about this one, I hope I get to see her again."

Giving a small smile, I turned back around to the sink, feeling my eyes start to water. Using my shoulders to wipe the tears, I tried to be discreet. He came up behind me and rubbed small circles in my back to comfort me. Just then, Ingrid pulled a clear bottle with a cork out of a cupboard and set it on the table with three shot gla.s.ses.

"What's that?" I asked excitedly.

She replied with only one word, "Schnapps." Giving me a wicked smile, both she and Shepard had an expression on their faces, indicating that I was about to have my a.s.s handed to me.

Pouring the liquor to the brim, we lifted the gla.s.ses, toasting, "prost", then slugged them down. My face puckered in pain. Slapping the top of the table repeatedly, I bounced on my tiptoes, making the two of them crackup hysterically. "That's effing moons.h.i.+ne! Schnapps, my a.s.s, that's Austrian hooch! No wonder the hills are alive; you are all trashed."

She spilled some of the liquid on the table, pouring another round while still finding humor in my reaction.

I eyed the gla.s.s hesitantly, but Shepard pushed it towards me with a grin. "Your a.s.s is taking care of me, remember that." The second one went down a little better, yet still burned like h.e.l.l. I failed to taste the blueberries she said it was distilled with.

Still holding his second shot in his hands, Shepard leaned near to my ear and whispered throatily.

"I like taking care of you, remember?"

Fire from the alcohol began to course through my body, causing my cheeks to flush. This stuff was dangerous, just like the situation I was walking into. Ingrid poured another shot and turned to Shepard. Holding up a finger to indicate one more, we toasted again for the last time before I started to feel the effects. I knew I needed to get to sleep before I pa.s.sed out at the table. Noticing I was weaving a little, he excused us for the evening.

Ingrid hugged me tightly where I could smell her soap and the odor of the braciole she made us. Shepard kissed her on the cheek and said his good night. A tinge of sadness overcame me, thinking that this could be my life. I remained quiet as we walked through the house up to the top level. I had yet to see his bedroom and I was ready to pa.s.s out. Opening the French doors, a large platform bed was against the wall, facing towards the window. The view was comparable to that from the deck. A simple wardrobe was against the other wall with two shelves, serving as night stands on the sides of the bed. I didn't notice it at first, but there it was. Resting on the floor next to a music stand was his violin. Bending down to pick it up, my finger lightly touched the metal strings. It looked a little dusty, like it hadn't been played in a while. Plucking a cord, I could hear it was out of tune.

Without saying a word, Shepard reached behind my head and pulled me into a deep kiss. The room began to spin as we collided into each other. At first, I responded with everything I had been holding back, then jerked away as quickly. He gave me a confused look, but I started to shake my head.

"Shepard, I can't; it's too soon."

His hands went over his face, rubbing his eyes. I knew this probably just frustrated the c.r.a.p out of him, and it wasn't that my body wasn't screaming to let him tear me apart. I could see it in his eyes and feel it in his fingers, but time had made us strangers, and I had to treat him like one. The past two days had created more turmoil in my soul than I had felt in the past six years. I wanted to believe Shepard would never hurt me, but now I wasn't so sure. I walked into the living room and curled up on the sofa. Shepard followed me and held his hand out to lead me back into the bedroom. Crawling onto one side, he turned out the lights, leaving me to undress in the dark. After a while, his breathing regulated with a light snore.

Before turning my back, I whispered aloud the small voice in my heart. "You are going to be the death of me."

Chapter 35 - The Big Picture.

Dawn was beginning to crawl over the mountains when I found Shepard sitting on the deck, wrapped in a thick fleece blanket, watching the city come to life.

Rubbing my crossed arms up and down, I walked towards the semi-reclined chair.

"Do you have another blanket somewhere so I can join you?"

Smiling playfully, he opened up the coc.o.o.n he created around his body and motioned for me to join him in the chair. He sighed contently while holding me snugly in his lap. I knew we would have to get on the road soon in order to make it to Lindau by nightfall, but for now, I would soak in this moment to catalog in my memory bank. The noise of morning traffic floated up the hillside, intermingling with birdsong and the shallow breathing of Shepard against my neck.

I could smell his spicy shampoo and the strong coffee sitting in the mug next to his chair, which meant he had been up for some time. I waited for the moment when he would break the silence, but it never came. For nearly an hour, we rested against one another and greeted the new day with hesitancy. Each sunrise meant one day closer to going our separate ways. There was an unspoken agreement that we would not discuss the future; I think because we didn't want to admit the truth. As his lips touched my shoulder, I leaned my head against his. I wanted this every morning; it was cruel knowing I may only have this one, yet I savored every minute.

Before heading out on the road, we drove back down to the city center and parked near a bakery. Grabbing a handful of the delectable pastries out of the case and a coffee to go, we took a leisurely stroll into the square and up the hill to the fortress. Looking down over St. Peters Abbey and the statue of the large golden sphere in the Kapitelplatz, I could still make out the figure of the small man standing on top and the human chessboard.

"We are all p.a.w.ns in someone's game, aren't we? Lucky him, he doesn't have to be a part of it." I turned to Shepard, hoping some inkling of emotion would give him away, but there was nothing.

"He's not so lucky; how do you know he doesn't feel helpless, watching it all go on in front of him and there is nothing he can do about it?"

My brow furrowed at how ridiculous that sounded. "Of course he can do something; he can see everything! He could shout down what people need to do in order to win." Taking a sip of my coffee, I started down the hill while looking out across the expanse of history in front of me.

"Even if he told them, they wouldn't listen. He's different; he's not part of the game."

Stopping, I turned around. "What are you talking about?"

Shepard had stopped and leaned against the stone wall and pointed towards the chessboard.

"The man above them a no one would listen, they can't see the truth. They are so wrapped up in trying to figure out what their opponent's next move is, they can't conceive that maybe there is someone who can see the big picture. He can see every piece on the board, and every game that is played. It's not just about him shouting down; they have to let him know they can hear him, and trust him. But submission is a very hard thing for most people. They need to feel like they are in control, even if it is an illusion."

My heart started to beat faster; I could see Shepard's pupils dilate as his hand pushed the rogue strands of hair back behind my ears and down my neck. I closed my heavy lids as the tingle of electricity caused by his fingertips trailed straight to my center.

"It could be so much easier, Violet, if they would just stop for a second and listen." I felt his lips brush against my forehead gently before he backed away and continued walking down the hill, leaving me speechless.

The smile didn't leave his face the rest of the morning. After a few hours, we stopped in the town of Ettal. A brick wall lined the street, deceiving the pa.s.serby as to what rested behind it. Set against the Bavarian Mountains was the stunning Ettal Abbey. Several monks were taking a stroll in the courtyard as I headed slowly towards the entrance of the ma.s.sive white church. It was unlike anything I had seen before; I couldn't contain my excitement. Inside the wooden doorway was an ancient stone entryway into the church. Shepard simply followed me as I took it all in, nervously approaching the quiet sanctuary. A priest stood by the door, greeting us in German much faster than I could translate internally.

As Shepard began to play interpreter, the priest intervened and began to speak in English. I winked at Shepard and began to follow the sweet old man who took me on a tour of the breathtaking chapel. It was started in 1330 on the fulfillment of an oath by a saint, the stone entry part of the original church. Over the centuries, it had been added upon, which reflected the period. I hadn't noticed the varied architecture until it was pointed out. In the center of the ma.s.sive dome was a beautiful white dove, descending down through the circle of painted saints. I pictured in my mind a man lying on his back or crouched upon perilous scaffolding to create these incredible works of art. Although I was overwhelmed by the grandiose of the church in Munich, this somehow was different to me.

Running my hands along the worn wooden pews, I could feel the years of prayers sent up to heaven and the weight 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 Pa.s.sion Play, based on the life and death of Jesus. They made a promise to G.o.d 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 a 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 s.p.a.cious 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 p.i.s.s 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 a 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 brus.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.sion, 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. .h.i.tting 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 gla.s.s and took a sip before starting.

"My grandfather was stationed here right after World War II. They told the soldiers not to embark on relations.h.i.+ps 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 pet.i.tioned 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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 alb.u.ms and a few bottles of wine.

After pulling the cork from the second bottle, she set her gla.s.s down and looked me square in the eyes. It was eerily like looking into a trick mirror at a carnival. Her head c.o.c.ked to one side, idly flipping through the alb.u.ms with me.

"Now what is it that we need to discuss, Violet?"

Chapter 36 - Can You Hear Me Now?.

I was unsure how late it was when I finally crawled into bed. Shepard had a small night light on, antic.i.p.ating I would be too intoxicated to find the bed in the dark. I knew I wasn't being quiet, because I kept telling myself to stop giggling. I swore at one point, I told Shepard to shut up and go back to sleep, but I can't be for sure. I remember watching him sleep for a while a how his face twitched while he dreamed, and how wonderful his perfect skin smelled. I was sure if he were to wake and catch me with my face in his elbow, he would think I really did lose it.