by Jae
“Come on. You can start up swimming next week.”
“You were the one who said I have to get out more, meet new people, so I signed up for water volleyball after I swim my laps.”
Miri sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to postpone that and have brunch with us instead? Poor Susanne will sit there like an idiot while Franzi and I stare into each other’s eyes.”
The thought of Susanne feeling ignored and neglected almost made her give in, but then she strengthened her resolve. “No, thanks. You go have brunch; I’ll go swimming.” At least while she was swimming laps, she’d stop thinking about that moment up on the observation tower and imagining what might have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted.
Later that day, Franzi put down her cutlery, dabbed her lips with the red napkin the restaurant had provided, and leaned across the table. “What’s up with you, Sis? You haven’t said more than three words since we got here.”
Susanne looked up from where she had cut her salmon-spinach-and-potato gratin into little squares. “Nothing. Just focusing on my food.”
“Uh-huh. Are you angry because I kind of ignored you most of today?” Franzi covered her face with both hands and peeked through her fingers. “God, I’m the worst sister ever. I come here to spend time with you, and then I abandon you for Miri. It’s just that she’s fun and really great to talk to. I feel as if we’ve known each other for ages. But, of course, that’s no reason to just—”
“I’m not mad at you.” If anything, she was mad at herself for nearly kissing Anja.
Franzi lowered her hands to the table. “You’re not?”
“You know me. Is this,” Susanne pointed at herself, “my angry face?”
Her sister studied her carefully. “No.” She squinted and leaned even closer until Susanne squirmed. “This is your I’m-pining-over-a-woman face.”
“Nonsense!”
“The lady doth protest too much, me thinks. Wait!” Franzi shoved her half-eaten plate of Swiss raclette cheese away as if she’d lost her appetite. “Now I get it! That’s why you’re not mad at me for abandoning you today. Because you got to spend time alone with Anja. You like her.”
Susanne shrugged as casually as possible. “Not at first, but…yeah, she’s all right, I guess.”
Franzi shook her head. “No, I meant you like like her. As more than just a colleague.”
“You’re imagining things. You’re the one who gets crushes on people at the drop of a hat, not me.” But the conviction she’d aimed for wasn’t there.
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Susi. Remember, you’re talking to me—your womb mate. What’s going on between the two of you?”
Susanne sighed and pierced one of the gratin squares on her plate with her fork. “Nothing. She’s an employee.”
“Uncle Nobby’s employee, not yours.”
“Which still makes us colleagues, and you know I don’t mix business with pleasure. It always gets messy.”
“But you are interested in her?” Franzi asked.
“I’ll be gone in less than eight weeks.”
“So that’s a yes. I knew it.”
Susanne put her fork down with a clank. “That’s a big, fat no. Besides, I wasn’t even thinking about her right now.” It was the truth…if you left out the fact that she now wanted to save Paper Love for Anja as much as she wanted to save it for her uncle.
“What were you brooding about, then?”
Susanne sighed. “Money.”
Franzi sent her a worried gaze. “You’re not in financial trouble, are you? I know you’re not getting any money for helping out Uncle Nobby, and the rent in Freiburg is not exactly cheap. If you need help, I can—”
“No,” Susanne said firmly. “I’ve got enough money saved to keep me afloat even if I didn’t work for the rest of the year, if that’s what I wanted.”
“Why are you thinking about money, then?”
“Because Paper Love needs a website with an integrated webstore, plus a newsletter and plenty of online ads to survive.”
Franzi nodded and started eating again. “That makes sense.”
“Yeah, but a professionally designed and developed webstore will cost about ten thousand euros.”
Franzi nearly choked on a bite of potato. “Ten thousand?” she gasped out and took a large gulp of wine. “Wow. And people think dental work is overpriced.”
“There are cheaper options, but we’d have to upgrade eventually, so in the long run, we would just be wasting even more money.” Susanne forced herself to continue eating as she remembered Anja pointing out that she ate too little whenever she was stressed.
“Yeah. It’s the same in my job. If you go for cheap fillings, you’ll only end up paying more later.”
“The problem is that Uncle Norbert doesn’t have that kind of money. His savings are just about depleted.” Susanne took her time chewing a forkful of salmon. “I’m thinking about lending him the money.”
Franzi froze with her wineglass in hand. “You…you want to lend him ten thousand euros?” Her voice came out in a squeak.
“I don’t know if want is the right word, but I don’t see any other way to save Paper Love.”
“It’s not that I want to talk you out of it. I’m all for helping him. It’s just that you always said you’d never, ever make the same mistake that Mama made with Papa when she gave him all her money and cosigned his loans.”
“I know what I said. But this is different.” She wasn’t sure that it really was. She had promised herself to keep work and her private life separate, to never go into business with family or friends, and to never lend large amounts of money to anyone. Now it felt as if she was doing all three of these things.
“I agree. And you know what makes it different?” Franzi asked and then continued without waiting for a reply. “Mama was alone back then. You aren’t. I want to give you half of the money you need for the webstore.”
Susanne vehemently shook her head. “No. I’m not taking a cent from you.”
“Why not? I’m his niece too. Why should you carry all the risk alone?”
“Because you just had to replace a…” The correct word failed her, so she made a drilling sound.
“Actually, it was an automatic autoclave. Not that it matters. I still want to help out. So fifty-fifty?”
Susanne groaned. “Why do I have to have such a stubborn sister?”
“Genetics, dear womb mate.” Franzi winked at her. “Come on. Just say yes. You’ll have a much easier time selling this idea to Uncle Nobby if we’re sharing the costs.”
That much was true. “All right, you little pest.”
They finished the rest of their meal in companionable silence. Susanne was too deep in thought to say much. Somehow the unshakable rules and convictions she had lived her life by had been turned upside down within just three weeks. Less than a month ago, she had assumed her uncle was a sentimental fool for wanting to hold on to his little store, and now she was pumping her own personal money—and that of her sister—into it, with no guarantee that they’d get even one cent of it back.
This city was really messing with her head.
An unfamiliar noise ripped Susanne from the middle of a dream. She mumbled a protest. “Mmpf, Anja?”
Then the cobwebs of sleep receded. Of course it couldn’t be Anja, even though faint impressions of the dream she’d had still lingered. She and Anja had climbed a giant fountain pen, walking hand in hand as they had today, and when they had reached the golden nib at the top, she had pulled Anja close, threaded her fingers through her windblown hair, and—
And then nothing. Just as they had been about to kiss, something had woken her. She curled her empty hand into a fist. God, it had felt so real. She could still feel Anja’s hand in hers and her breath on her lips.
Yawning, she mentally cursed whatever had woken her. She couldn’t get involved with Anja in the waking world, so at least getting to kiss her while asleep would have been nice.
But her sister’s bad timing had ruined that. Had Franzi gone to the bathroom, and the unfamiliar noises of another person in the apartment had woken her up?
Susanne opened her eyes, now fully awake.
The room was dark except for the faint glow of her alarm clock, which revealed that it was three o’clock. She had left her door ajar in case her sister needed something, but in the hall leading to the living room, where Franzi slept on the new couch, everything was quiet.
The same couldn’t be said about her bedroom.
A rhythmic rrrrr-rrr-rrrrr sounded right next to her.
“What the…?” Susanne flicked on the lamp on the bedside table. Light flared on, blinding her for a moment.
Once her eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness, she could make out the cat that was perched in a sphinxlike position on the mattress right next to her.
“Muesli! What the hell are you doing here?”
The cat continued to purr.
Her bedroom window was closed, as were all the other windows in the apartment—at least they had been when she had gone to bed—so he couldn’t have sneaked in that way.
Susanne gritted her teeth. Franzi must have let him in. Earlier, when they had returned from the restaurant and Muesli had given his usual tap-and-meow concert on the other side of the French door, Franzi had voted for letting him in, but Susanne had refused. So much for her sister respecting her decision. Franzi had probably intended for him to sleep on the couch with her, but instead, Muesli had gone looking for Susanne.
It was strangely touching. Yeah, well, he probably thinks the bed is more comfy than the couch.
Should she pick him up and put him outside? It would be the right thing to do, or he would get attached to her and then end up being hurt when she left.
Muesli stretched out more comfortably on his side and kneaded the covers at her hip with his front paws.
The rhythmic touch and the soft purring were soothing and chased away the loneliness that had settled over her at the abrupt ending of the dream.
Loneliness. Bah. She scoffed. Since when do you get lonely? You’ve got work, and Franzi is in the next room.
But despite that pep talk, she couldn’t bring herself to climb out of her warm bed and put the cat outside. Besides, if she kicked him out now, he would probably keep her and Franzi awake with his tapping and yowling.
“Don’t get used to it,” she mumbled as she closed her eyes and curled around the small, warm body. She fell back asleep within seconds.
A wet tongue licked a path up her neck.
Susanne moaned. “Mmm, a little softer, honey.”
The rough licking stopped, then something pulled her hair.
“Ouch! What the fuck?” Susanne pulled her head away and opened her eyes.
The cat sat next to her pillow. When he saw that he had successfully woken her, he jumped off the bed and strutted to the half-open door, where he paused and looked back at her with a demanding “meow.”
Susanne sat up and wiped her neck. “You honestly think I’m gonna feed you as a reward for waking me up—again?”
“You talking to me?” Franzi asked from the kitchen. The hardwood floor in the hall creaked, then she stuck her head into the bedroom. “Ah. This is where he ended up. I thought so. I’m making coffee. You want a cup?”
“Yeah, in a second.” Before she could take her sister to task about letting the cat in, Franzi disappeared.
Muesli followed.
“Don’t feed him,” Susanne called after her.
“Why not? No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend if this is how you treat your overnight guests!”
“Haha.” With a grunt, Susanne tossed off the covers and padded to the kitchen.
Franzi rummaged through the cabinets, probably in search of something she could feed the cat.
“And if this is how you listen to the person you share living space with, it’s no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend…or a boyfriend either. I told you not to let him in or to feed him.”
Muesli circled them both, purring and meowing.
“Come on, Susi. Give him some tuna or something.”
Susanne shook her head. “You know I’m not staying. It would be mean to lead her on.”
Franzi leaned against the counter and studied her. “Her? Muesli is a male, isn’t he?”
Oh shit. Had she really said that? “Him. It would be mean to lead him on.”
A grin curled Franzi’s lips. “Why do I get the feeling it’s not the cat that’s on your mind?”
“Because you have an overactive imagination.” Susanne threw up her hands. “Fine. Give him the tuna. I need a shower.” She fled to the bathroom before her sister could start another discussion about Anja.
Chapter 12
“What do you think?” Anja peered across her kitchen table at Susanne. The article about gift ideas for stationery addicts was the tenth blog post Anja had written, but she still held her breath while she waited for Susanne’s judgment.
Or maybe it was the way Susanne looked that made her breathless.
Since it was Saturday, they had met at Anja’s apartment to prepare more blog posts for the website launch. Susanne had traded her power suit for faded jeans that clung to her in all the right places and a sweater with its sleeves pushed up, revealing her toned forearms. Her hair tumbled loosely onto her shoulders.
Susanne held up one finger in a give-me-a-minute gesture while her eyes flicked left and right over the laptop screen. A wrinkle of concentration formed between her brows. Finally, she looked up, and the wrinkle smoothed out when she smiled. “It’s great.”
“Really?” Anja couldn’t help beaming. Susanne’s praise warmed her more than the mug of hot chocolate she had made for them.
“Really,” Susanne said with a decisive nod. “It almost makes me want to buy a fountain pen.”
“Ooh. That’s high praise coming from a pen-clueless, digital-only snob like you.”
“I’m not pen-clueless. I’ll have you know that I can now tell a Lamy 600 from a Pelikan 2000.”
A giggle rose up in Anja’s chest. “It’s Lamy 2000 and Pelikan M600.”
“I knew that. I just wanted to make you laugh.”
Anja studied her. Had she really done it on purpose, just to hear her laugh?
Susanne tapped the edge of the laptop screen as if to direct Anja’s attention back to the blog post. “So I would keep the second half exactly as it is. But maybe you could revise the beginning a little.”
Anja slid her chair around the round table in her mini kitchen, closer to Susanne, so she could glance at the opening of the blog post. “It’s not working?”
“It is, but I think it would work even better if you could add a more personal touch. You keep saying that it’s what your…our customers want, right?”
“Right.” Anja rubbed her chin and tried to think of something but came up empty. “Any suggestions?”
“Maybe you could weave in a personal experience. Have you ever gotten stationery or writing instruments as a gift?”
Anja grimaced. “Yes. I once got a fountain pen from my first girlfriend, but I sold it a year later because it wasn’t working.”
“The pen?” Susanne asked. “Or the relationship?”
“Neither. It was stiff and about as bendable as a nail—and that’s true for both the nib and my ex.” Anja surprised herself by answering honestly. She had been the one to do all the compromising in the relationship, even contemplating moving halfway across the country to Hamburg, while her girlfriend hadn’t been willing to meet her halfway to make their life together work.
“That sucks.” Susanne gave her a compassionate look. “I hope it got better after that.”
“Are we talking about gifts or relationships?” Somehow she got the feeling Susanne was more interested in hearing about her relationships than about any stationery presents she might have received.
Susanne hesitated.
“It’s okay to be curious a
nd ask questions, you know?” And it really was okay, she realized. In the past four weeks, she had gotten more comfortable with Susanne. She didn’t even feel self-conscious about the size of her apartment anymore, maybe because Susanne really seemed to like it. “That’s what people do when they make new friends, right?”
Susanne’s gaze flicked over to her. “Are we? Friends, I mean?”
The memory of their almost kiss up on the tower flashed through Anja’s mind, as it had more often than she cared to admit in the week that had passed since then. It had been a decidedly more-than-friendly moment, but she ignored it. “We could be. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time with anyone, and we haven’t killed each other yet, so…”
“We’ve been too busy working to hatch murder schemes.” After a moment, Susanne cracked a smile. “But let’s assume I was asking about relationships. I mean, I could report them to the LGBT police if the lesbians and bi women down here in Freiburg are not treating you the way they should.”
Anja chuckled. “I didn’t have another girlfriend after her, so the lesbian and bi women in Freiburg are safe for now.”
Susanne’s eyes widened. She put down the mug she had just picked up without taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Wait. You mean bendable-as-a-nail woman was your first and only girlfriend?”
Anja’s defenses went up so fast that she could almost hear the metallic clank as the parts of her steel armor snapped into place. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I was just experimenting or confused or taking the easy way out because my two other relationships were with men.”
“Woah!” Susanne held up both hands, palms out. “I never said—or thought—any of that. Do you really think my sister would let me get away with such a stupid biphobic attitude?”
Anja’s cheeks flamed hot. “Sorry.” She averted her gaze and stared into her almost empty mug instead. “I’ve been faced with some pretty ridiculous assumptions when I told people about my relationship history. The last woman I was interested in didn’t want to date me after finding out I’m bi because she was convinced it wouldn’t be long until I’d cheat on her with a man.”