by Jae
Chapter 13
Drumbeats and the sounds of trumpets and trombones drifted into the store when Susanne opened the door to drag in the carousels of greeting cards.
Anja looked up from the ink bottles she was restocking.
“Did you see that?” Susanne pointed outside. “A coven of witches is checking out our paper boats.”
Anja stepped next to her and peered through the glass door.
Half a dozen witches in costumes and carved wooden masks had paused in front of the paper boats they had set up on the Bächle across the street that morning. One of them pulled out a handful of confetti and sprinkled it over the boats before the group moved on toward the Schwabentor. The medieval gate was the meeting place for the marching bands and carnival groups gathering for the Rosenmontag parade. The huge carnival parade was held every year on the Monday before Ash Wednesday, but it had been a couple of years since Anja had attended—mostly because watching alone wasn’t much fun.
Anja and Susanne grinned at each other.
“I guess now we can say that both swans and witches like our boats,” Susanne said.
Nobby shook his head. “There is no carnival group dressing up as swans.”
“We know.” Anja patted his shoulder. The swan incident was hard to explain, and the recounting probably wouldn’t be as funny as watching Susanne’s face when the swan had escaped with her boat. “It’s an inside joke.”
Never in a million years would she have thought that she and Susanne would one day have inside jokes that only they understood. She had never had that with anyone but Miri.
“Guess I’m too old to understand it,” Nobby muttered. “You two should get out of here if you don’t want to miss the start of the parade. I’ll finish up.”
Susanne wheeled the carousels farther into the store. “I’m not going to the parade.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” Nobby said. “All the other stores in the city center are closing for the rest of the day too, so there’s no way I’ll let you keep working. That stuff you do on the computer can wait until tomorrow. Anja, get her out of here and take her to see the parade.”
Well, an afternoon off would be a nice change of pace, especially if she got to spend a part of it with Susanne. Anja got their coats and pressed Susanne’s into her hands. “Come on. I’ve got to do what my boss says. You don’t want to get me fired, do you?”
Susanne snorted but put on her coat and followed her to the door.
“Thanks, Nobby,” Anja called over her shoulder.
“You don’t need to show me the parade,” Susanne said when they got outside. “It’s not like we don’t have carnival parades in Berlin. Well, they aren’t as big or as popular, and there won’t be one this year, but that doesn’t mean we have to go see the parade here. You can just go home, if you want.”
“Actually, I can’t. I left my bike at home this morning because last year at carnival someone decorated it with paper streamers, and it took me half an hour to get it all off.”
“What about the streetcar?”
“They aren’t running until after the parade, so I’m stuck here for the next three hours.”
Susanne sighed. “Guess that means I’m stuck too, hmm?”
Anja glanced up at her. Would it really be so bad for Susanne to spend some time with her away from work? The thought stabbed her chest like a sharp needle. “No. Not if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly fine watching the parade on my own.”
A twinkle entered Susanne’s eyes. “Nah. Someone has to protect you from all those witches.”
“Oh, so you’re going to take on the role of my protector?”
Susanne shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to have to face Nobby and tell him I let his best employee be witch-napped.”
“And that’s the only reason you’ll go to the parade with me?” Anja had meant to make it a teasing joke, but her tone was much more serious than she had intended.
They looked at each other, then both glanced away.
“No,” Susanne said so quietly that Anja almost didn’t hear her over the sound of the trombones. “I also really like spending time with you.”
A slow smile curled Anja’s lips, then grew into an ear-to-ear grin. “I enjoy your company too. Very much so. I…”
Two people in cat costumes rushed past, probably late for the parade. The jingling of the bells around their wrists interrupted Anja before she could say more—and maybe that was a good thing. Susanne had made it clear from day one that she wouldn’t be staying, so getting too attached to her was guaranteed to end in heartache.
Susanne placed a hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. “Come on, or we’ll miss the best candy.”
“I think they hand out candy mainly to the kids.”
“To kids and to people with an irresistible smile,” Susanne shot back.
Anja nudged her. “God, you sure aren’t suffering from an inferiority complex.” Of course, she secretly had to agree. Susanne did have an irresistible smile.
“Who said I was talking about me?”
Anja’s stride faltered. Heat rose up her chest and fanned out over her cheeks. “Oh.”
Laughing, Susanne led her down the street, with her hand still on Anja’s back.
Anja peeked over at her. Did Susanne really think her smile was irresistible?
Nonsense, she told herself. So far, she has managed to resist it just fine, hasn’t she?
By the time they made it to the Schwabentor, the parade had already started, and they ended up squeezing in among the crowd lined up at the side of the street, watching the costumed groups, marching bands, and the occasional carnival float pass by.
Since Anja was shorter than most of the people around them, she chose a spot in the front, where she could see all the costumes. It didn’t take long to dawn on her that it probably hadn’t been the best idea. The kids in front of her grabbed all the candy, and as the first adult in the crowd behind them, she was the target of all the practical jokes.
A sailor marching alongside a horse-drawn boat on wheels painted a lipstick heart on her cheek, a bunny rubbed its giant stuffed carrot over her head until her hair was a mess, and a devil in a fiery-red costume tickled her nose with a horse tail on a stick.
Anja whirled around to her self-appointed protector, who was bent over with laughter. “You’re a complete failure as a bodyguard.” She had to lean close and shout to be heard over the loud music from the marching bands. “Everyone is picking on me. Why am I the only one who’s getting singled out?”
Grinning, Susanne plucked a bit of confetti from Anja’s hair. “It’s because you look cute and approachable. I’m more intimidating.”
“Oh, if you’re so intimidating, then come here and do what you promised—protect me.” She pushed Susanne in front of her as a human shield, and Susanne let herself be dragged around with a laugh.
But now she blocked Anja’s view, so she peeked around her. Her cheek rested on Susanne’s shoulder, and when the crowd behind her surged forward to catch some candy being thrown, she had to grab hold of Susanne’s hips not to lose her balance.
It instantly reminded her of being pressed against her in the overly full train to the stationery fair, but at the same time, it felt different. In the two and a half weeks since Paperworld, she had really gotten to know Susanne. She wasn’t pressed up against an attractive woman she barely knew—this was Susanne, the person who had helped her climb a thirty-meter tower and who had gone to the lake with her to float paper boats.
Susanne glanced back at her. “You okay?” The mirth dancing in her eyes had been replaced by a look of concern.
Anja nodded, even though she wasn’t sure how okay she really was.
A squeak from the little girl in front of them directed her attention back to the parade.
Another group of witches marched past. The eyes carved into their wooden masks glowed an eerie green. One of them approached, swishing a broom over the feet of the people in the first
row, while his—or her—other hand slowly reached into one of the two canvas bags strapped to the costume.
Anja ducked behind Susanne’s back and grinned triumphantly. Finally, Susanne, who so far hadn’t been hit by a single bit of confetti, would get her share of it.
But when the witch’s hand reappeared, it held a piece of candy instead. “For you,” a female voice came from behind the mask. She knelt and offered it to the little girl, who took it and then ducked behind her mother.
Susanne laughed. The sound vibrated through Anja since she was still holding on to her hips.
The witch rose and stood toe-to-toe with Susanne.
Anja held her breath. She knew there was nothing to fear; the practical jokes were all in good fun. But suddenly, a wave of protectiveness swept over her and she regretted putting Susanne in the line of fire.
Susanne stood without squirming, staring into the glowing green eyes.
The witch reached into the other bag and pulled out a handful of pink confetti.
Anja tried to drag Susanne back, but with the crowd surrounding them, there was nowhere to go.
The sorceress took a step forward. Instead of tossing the confetti at Susanne, the gloved hand reached around her and deposited it on Anja’s head.
“Hey!” A bit of confetti trickled into her collar, making her hunch her shoulders.
The witch tapped her long, wooden nose as if to mock Anja and continued on her merry way.
Anja shook herself like a dog trying to get rid of fleas, but that only dislodged more confetti from her head and made it slide down her back. “Why me again?”
Susanne’s laughter, loud and unrestrained, drowned out the drums and trumpets for a moment. “Well, you love paper, so…”
Anja pulled a bit of confetti from her hair and flicked it at her. “I love it on my desk, not in my hair.”
Another witch approached, but this one sidestepped Susanne too and tossed confetti at the person next to her.
“See?” Susanne grinned. “They’re scared of me.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’m not.” Two quick steps, then Anja reached into the witch’s bag, pulled out a handful of confetti, and dragged Susanne down by her unbuttoned coat. Without pausing to think about what she was doing, she stuffed it into Susanne’s collar.
Her knuckles brushed the warm skin on Susanne’s upper chest.
Anja froze. Oh my God. I’ve got my hand down her shirt.
Susanne stood without moving, not backing away. Her pupils were wide as she stared at Anja.
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to, um…” Anja withdrew her hand and let go of Susanne’s coat.
Still, Susanne made no move to step back or to get rid of the confetti that was now probably trickling down her chest, down her flat belly, and maybe even finding its way—
A tap on her shoulder stopped Anja’s mind from imagining exactly where that confetti might end up.
When she turned, she came face to face—or rather face to mask—with the witch whose confetti she had just stolen. The sorceress or sorcerer towered over her and reached into one of the bags.
Uh-oh. Anja prepared for yet another confetti shower. Well, she deserved it.
But instead, the witch pulled out a piece of candy and held it out to her.
Dazed, Anja took it and stared after the witch, who ran off to catch up with the rest of the group. For a second, she wanted to run too, but she knew she had to face Susanne. Slowly, she turned back toward her. “Sorry. That went a little far.”
“It’s okay. I was asking for it.”
“Were you?” Anja murmured, more to herself than to Susanne.
When Susanne shrugged, a bit of confetti trickled out of her pant leg.
Anja tried hard not to imagine all the places it had touched in between. Lucky confetti.
Grimacing, Susanne pulled her blouse from her slacks and shook out as much of the confetti as she could. “Come on. I think we both got as much carnival as we can take.”
“The streetcars still aren’t running,” Anja said.
“Then come home with me.”
The words and a bit of huskiness in Susanne’s voice made shivers run up and down Anja’s body.
Susanne laughed and nudged her, easing the tension between them a little. “To work. Get your mind out of the gutter! I was talking about us writing another blog post, and since I live within walking distance, we might as well do it at my apartment. I can drive you home once we’re done.”
“I knew what you meant,” Anja said, even though her head was spinning and she didn’t know much of anything anymore. Work, work, work, she told herself every step they took toward Susanne’s apartment. They were just going to work.
Right?
Susanne was very aware of Anja’s presence behind her as she unlocked the door to her apartment. Her body was still buzzing from the brush of Anja’s fingers along her chest.
When she took Anja’s coat from her to hang it on a hook next to her own, the fleeting touch of their fingers sent heat coiling through her. Get yourself together. She’s not some woman you’re taking home to have sex with.
It didn’t feel like it either—she had never cared much what the women she had occasionally taken home thought about her apartment, but Anja’s opinion mattered.
As she led her through the hall and into the dining room, she tried to see her temporary home through Anja’s eyes. She hadn’t hung any pictures or added other little touches that would have made the place feel more homey. The only piece of furniture she had bought since moving in had been a couch so Franzi would have a place to sleep. The dining room, however, was still as bare as ever, and the kitchen hadn’t gotten much use either.
Compared to Anja’s small but cozy home, her apartment was seriously depressing.
“Um, I didn’t see the point of buying a lot of furniture since I…” Her voice echoed through the nearly empty dining room, making her return to Berlin sound like something threatening instead of something to look forward to. She forced herself to say it anyway. “Since I’m not staying much longer.”
Anja said nothing. She followed Susanne into the living room, which thankfully looked a little homier. Since there were only three pieces of furniture—the recliner, the coffee table, and the couch—it wasn’t as if Anja needed long to take it all in, but to Susanne the seconds seemed to tick by slowly.
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her slacks and watched while awaiting Anja’s final judgment.
“Is that why we always meet in the café or go to my apartment when we work on promotional stuff?” Anja asked. “Because you don’t have much furniture?”
Susanne nodded, even though deep down, she knew it wasn’t the only reason. Inviting Anja into her apartment felt like giving her even more insight into her life and personality, adding one more layer of intimacy, and that was probably not a good idea.
Yeah? So then why bring her here now? They could have gone to a café in the city center and passed the time until the streetcars were running again.
Anja bent over the coffee table and studied the framed photo that Franzi had brought as a housewarming gift. “Oh my God, that’s so cute! Is that you and your sister?”
Susanne groaned. This was exactly why she had never let colleagues visit her apartment. But then again, Anja was more than just someone she worked with, wasn’t she? “Yes. Please ignore the hair.”
“What happened? Don’t tell me you cut each other’s hair!”
“That’s what it looks like, right?” In the photo, their bangs almost reached their hairline, and one side was shorter than the other. “But, no. That was the year my father thought he could make money selling Atari consoles, even though the video game industry was crashing for a couple of years in the eighties, and my mother tried to make up for it and save money by giving us haircuts instead of sending us to the hairdresser. She couldn’t get the bangs right and kept trying to even them out, so they became shorter and shorter.”
Anja gig
gled. “How old were you?”
“About four or so. Too young to defend myself against this accidental mullet.”
Still grinning, Anja traced the crooked line of four-year-old Susanne’s bangs with her index finger, a gesture that looked so tender that adult Susanne shivered.
Cut it out, idiot!
Anja directed her attention to Susanne’s parents, who stood behind them in the picture.
Both of them were smiling, even though Susanne remembered the fight they’d had over the haircuts gone wrong.
“You really look a lot like your father,” Anja commented.
Susanne heard that a lot, but she could never see it. Or maybe she didn’t want to see it. “I guess.”
Anja turned away from the photo and studied her instead. “That’s not a bad thing, is it? He’s a good-looking guy.”
“So you think I’m good-looking too, hmm?” That almost made up for being compared to her father.
Anja’s cheeks flamed a bright pink, but she held Susanne’s gaze. “You don’t like being compared to him, do you?”
A sigh worked its way up Susanne’s throat. “I don’t hate him or anything, but whenever my mother points out that I’m like him in some way, she doesn’t mean it as a compliment.”
“If he’s anything like Nobby, he can’t be all bad, can he? I mean, your parents went through a divorce. Has it ever occurred to you that your mother isn’t totally objective when it comes to your father?”
“Yes, of course,” Susanne said, but it was more of an automatic response. Then, when Anja kept looking at her with that patient, understanding gaze, she paused and took a moment to think about it. “I know that. But maybe you’re right. He’s got a great sense of humor, he’s not afraid to venture off the beaten track, and he probably has other positive traits too. Maybe I should remind myself of that more often.”
Anja nodded. “Maybe you should.”
Their gazes connected and held.