Sun & Moon - a contemporary romance (The Minstrel Series #1)

by Strauss, Lee

  The locksmith showed up in the middle of their cleaning spree. She paid him when he finished replacing the handle and double-checked that the door was locked when he left.

  There wasn’t much in the cupboards, but Katja found enough to cook the three of them a simple pasta dish. It wasn’t anything compared to the meals Micah liked to prepare, but he’d taught her a few things, and at least the pasta was properly cooked.

  When the sheets were dry, she made the beds and tucked Sibylle in to sleep. Her sister looked up at Katja with wide, blue eyes. “You’ll still be here when I wake up?”

  Katja stroked her hair, tucking it behind her ears. “Yes. I’ll be here. I’m living here now. So don’t worry.”

  “You’ll sleep with me again?”

  “If you don’t mind. Or I could sleep on the sofa.”

  “No, stay with me. I don’t mind.”

  “Good. Sleep well, Schatz. I’ll come to bed soon.” She kissed the soft skin of the girl’s forehead, and closed the door behind her.

  Her mother was already in bed. Her medication stripped her of her normal energy, and the beating had exhausted her physically and emotionally. Katja had encouraged her to go, telling her she would take care of Sibylle.

  Now she sat on the sofa and waited. She had the police on speed dial. She nodded off, but sprung awake when she heard someone struggle with the door handle. The failed attempt was followed by loud cursing. Katja pushed the button on her phone for the police.

  “I’d like to report an incidence of domestic violence.”

  Katja gave the address and waited. Horst banged on the door, yelling for her mother to open it. Even though she was pretty certain Horst couldn’t knock the door open, his temper frightened her and she curled up on the sofa clutching a cushion to her belly.

  Sirens sounded outside. Her phone rang. “Yes, you have the right address,” she said. “His name is Horst Bergmann. He beat my mother this morning. Six months ago, he attacked me. No, I didn’t report it then, but I’m doing it now.”

  She heard the scuffle in the hallway as the police detained her drunk and aggressive stepfather. The verbal tirade faded as the officers guided him outside, and Katja watched through the window as Horst was moved into the backseat of the green and white cruiser. The neighbors were all out for the show, and she was glad for the witnesses. Horst hadn’t made himself any friends here.

  She stood at the window until the street was cleared and silence returned to the building. Then she slipped into bed with her sister and fell into a deep sleep.

  Micah called her several times the next day and left messages. Call me, please. Katja ignored them all. He could just go search for another hazel-eyed girl with long honey-blond hair for all she cared.

  It wasn’t true. The pain that mercilessly squeezed her heart testified to that. She’d had a chance against a dead girl, but Greta was now very much alive and she couldn’t compete against that. Everything the locked room stood for and all those years Micah spent chasing Greta were a big part of him. Always would be, even if he wouldn’t admit it right now.

  Katja woke her mother by gently rubbing her shoulder. “Mama? I’m walking Sibylle to school. When I get back, I’m taking you to the doctor. Get ready while I’m gone, okay?”

  Katja held Sibylle’s hand as they walked down the tree-lined street. There were shadows under her eyes that were concerning. Sibylle needed to eat better, and to sleep more. And to let go of the burdens that weren’t meant for her young shoulders.

  Katja hated to bring up the dreaded question, but she had to know. “Sibylle, did your daddy ever… hurt you?”

  Sibylle shook her head, and Katja let out a short breath of relief.

  “He scares me, though. I’m glad you locked him out.”

  Katja squeezed her hand. “He scares me, too.”

  A block from the school, Sibylle gently tugged her hand free. Katja spotted other kids walking, and smiled. Sibylle didn’t want to be seen holding her big sister’s hand. She understood.

  She stopped and said, “I think you can make it from here.”

  “I’ve been making the whole distance by myself all these years, Katja.”

  “I know. I just like walking with you.” And until she was sure Horst wasn’t a danger, she’d keep walking her. “I’ll see you after school, okay?”

  The late autumn morning chill was lifting, and Katja welcomed the warmth of the sun’s rays poking through the remnants of the clouds from yesterday’s storm. When she reached her building, she heard someone call her name. She recognized the voice and had wondered how long it would be until she ran into him.

  “Hi, Niklas,” she said, forcing a small smile. Niklas Reinhardt hadn’t changed much. Still thin with a scruffy beard on his chin. He wore work overalls and had grease marks on his arms and hands. A cigarette with a long ash hung out the side of his mouth.

  “I heard you were back,” he said. He tossed his cigarette and ground it with his boot. “Pulled a good one on your old man.”

  “Nice to see you, too.” She tugged on the door to her building.

  “Hey, wait, Katja. We should go out sometime. Like old times.” Niklas leaned against his van and flicked his hair back. He smiled crookedly. “Hey?”

  Katja couldn’t believe she spent two years of her life hanging onto this guy. That she actually let him touch her. She cringed inwardly. “I don’t think so.”

  Niklas huffed and opened his van door. “You go away for six months, and you’re a hot shot now?”

  “Too hot for you.” She went inside and headed upstairs with the sound of Niklas’s van roaring to life behind her. She took a deep breath, readying herself for her next task. Surprisingly, her mother was actually ready, dressed in a clean blouse and skirt. The swelling in her face had receded a little, but her skin remained a deep purple.

  Katja smiled. “You look good.” At least, as good as someone who got beat up the day before could look. “Before we go to the doctor we have to go to the police station. I know you don’t want to…”

  “I do, Katja.” She blinked back tears. “I heard him last night, pounding at the door. I was so afraid he’d get in and kill us all. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let anything else bad happen to you girls.”

  Katja took her mother by the arm. “Good. We’ll do this together.”

  They spent much of the morning filling out paperwork. An officer took several pictures of Gisela’s face to document the injuries. She looked so vulnerable, standing there, unsmiling as the camera flashed. Katja’s heart ached for her mother, sad for her hard life. They were doing the right thing by pressing charges. Things would get better for her family if they stayed strong, she was sure of it.

  “We’re going to the doctor next,” Katja informed the clerk. “I’ll have the physician forward her report.”

  Horst was in jail, and though Katja didn’t know how long he’d be detained, they now had a restraining order. Horst wasn’t allowed in the building where they lived or anywhere on that block. Katja was determined to make a point of letting all her neighbors know and to get them to promise her they’d call the police if they ever saw him again.

  They weren’t completely safe, but they were safer.

  They stopped at a small market to pick up a few groceries: buns, shaved meat and a block of cheese, a cucumber and a tomato, and they returned to their flat for a light lunch. Gisela was quiet, clearly drained from the morning excursion. Katja’s mind kept drifting to Micah despite her efforts to forget about him. She checked her phone and saw he’d called again and left three more text messages. Katja swallowed hard. A part of her wanted to call him back, but their breakup was for the best. She was needed here now. She erased all his messages.

  After lunch, Gisela lay down, and Katja decided she had enough time to visit a legal service agency before picking up Sibylle from school.

  It was a no-nonsense office on the bottom floor of an old three-story building. Katja told the receptionist why she was
there and was in turn told to take a seat. There was a stack of magazines on the end table, but she didn’t feel like reading. She checked her phone and stared at the two new messages since lunch. Eventually, he’d give up. He had to see that this was the best thing in the long run. For both of them.

  Certainly his mother must be ecstatic. Micah had said she hadn’t liked Greta either, but that was where the similarities ended, at least the ones that mattered to people like Frau Sturm. Greta came from a good home. Her family, though not as well off as the Sturms, had money. If Frau Sturm hadn’t liked Greta before, she’d probably had a change of heart since meeting Katja.

  “Frau Stoltz?”

  The lawyer was shorter than Katja, with short grey hair, a soft belly and a friendly smile. She held out her hand. “I’m Frau Fullermann.”

  Katja followed Frau Fullermann into her office and sat in the chair opposite the plain, tidy desk. “How can I assist you?” she asked.

  Katja relayed her family’s situation. “I’m concerned about my sister. I wouldn’t want her taken from us because of all of this.”

  “Horst Bergmann is her biological father?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suspect your sister will be assigned a social worker shortly. If you can prove that you and your mother have the financial means to support her, and that her dwelling place is acceptable and safe, then the social worker will most likely recommend that she remain where she is. Her father may demand to visit her, but we can put in a formal request that visitations occur away from the family home, and in a secure place with the accompaniment of the social worker.”

  Katja felt sure that with the apartment cleaned up, the dwelling requirements would be met. But finances were another thing. The main reason her mother had put up with Horst all these years was because he’d had a steady job. Now that he was unemployed, that money wasn’t coming in anyway. Katja pursed her lips. She had to get a job and quick.

  “Thank you, Frau Fullermann. You’ve given me the information I need.”

  “Don’t hesitate to contact me again should you need my services regarding this matter.”

  “I will.”

  Her mind raced as she began her trek to Sibylle’s school. The only job experience she had where she could hope for a good reference was from the café in Dresden. It was time to call Renata anyway. She needed to explain her situation and apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

  Katja arrived at Sibylle’s school just as it was letting out.“How was your day?” she asked when her sister appeared.

  Sibylle’s lips tugged down. “Fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” Katja said as they began the trek back. “Did something happen?”

  Sibylle’s upper lip quivered, but she remained quiet.

  “Sibylle, you can tell me. Were the kids talking about… us?”

  She nodded. “They heard about Papa getting hauled away by the police. They weren’t too kind about it.”

  Katja squeezed her shoulders. “Just ignore them. Tomorrow there’ll be more exciting bad news for them to gossip about. The thing you have to remember is that you’re not your papa. You’re you. You make your own choices in life about how you’re going to live it. You can’t let other people dictate that for you.”

  Sibylle tilted her head, looking up at Katja’s face.“Is that why you came back?”

  Katja blinked. “Yes. It was.”

  She unlocked the door to their flat when they arrived but didn’t go in with Sibylle. “I’m going to see Henni,” she said. “Lock the door, okay?”

  Katja continued up the stairwell to the next floor and tapped on the door of the flat directly above hers. Her stomach swooshed with a new round of nerves. She hadn’t seen her friend since she’d left for Dresden months ago, hadn’t called or sent any kind of message.

  Henni answered the door. She was petite with short, dark hair that had a streak of blue Katja hadn’t seen before. She considered Katja coolly.“I heard you were back.”

  “I’m sorry.” Katja nervously clasped her hands near her stomach. “I should’ve come to visit earlier. A lot’s been happening.”

  Henni waved her inside. “I heard about Horst.”

  Who hadn’t? When you lived in a complex like this one, everyone knew everybody else’s business. Bad news sprouted wings, flew along the halls, down the streets to the shops, and through the schools, apparently.

  Henni’s apartment was laid out exactly the same as Katja’s. All the flats were the same, only some were inverted from the others. She took in the familiar room with the same old furniture and wall décor it’d had for the last twenty years Katja had known Henni’s family. The lack of change both perturbed her and comforted her.

  “How are you?” Katja asked as she took a seat on the sofa. Henni’s teenage brother entered the room, nodded to Katja and turned on the TV.

  “Let’s go to my room to talk,” Henni said.

  Henni sat against her large, purple pillow near the wall, and grabbed a tattered stuffed bear that had made a home there since as long as Katja could remember. She lay across the foot of the bed and stared up at the string of little white lights Henni had hung over the window.

  She pushed out the words she knew she had to say.“I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”

  Henni twitched and held the bear tighter. “Yeah, about that.”

  Katja leaned up on one elbow, facing her friend. “It had to do with Horst.”

  Henni diverted her eyes. Katja was certain that her memory of finding Horst pinning her down with Katja fighting beneath him was as clear as if she’d witnessed it yesterday.

  “And my mother,” Katja continued. “She was so out of it with those pills and wouldn’t help me. I mean, I thought she wouldn’t. Now I know she couldn’t help. She wasn’t emotionally strong enough.” Katja sighed sadly. “It was a spontaneous decision on my part. I thought if I just left, I’d be one less problem for my mother to worry about, and I would be safe from any more unwanted attention from Horst. I didn’t mean to leave without telling you. I was in distress, and once I was gone… well it felt too late to look back.”

  Henni let out a long breath, and her eyes softened. “I knew things were hard for you, Katty. I just didn’t know how bad they were.”

  She tossed her bear to Katja and smiled a little. “So how was your time away? Where’d you go?”

  “Dresden.” The bear was lumpy with fur missing in patches, but Katja was glad that Henni hadn’t thrown it out. She stroked its bumpy head, a move that brought her a nostalgic sort of comfort. “I thought I could break into the music scene there. Make something of myself.”

  “And?” Henni pushed blue hair off her pixie face. “What happened? Why are you back?”

  Katja told her the whole story, not leaving anything out. How Micah picked her up on the street, his obsession with Greta, how one night went from being the happiest day to the worst within moments. She told the story right up to the phone call she received from Sibylle when she stood waiting at the train station.

  Henni stared at her with wide eyes and an opened mouth. “You fell in love?”

  Katja felt her face contort as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to well up behind her eyes. “Yeah, I did. But it was stupid, and I’m over it.”

  Henni moved onto her stomach, legs bent at the knees, feet in the air, her face only centimeters from Katja’s. “You don’t look over it.”

  “Well, I’m working on getting over it, so I’m going to stop talking about him. The important thing now is that my family needs me, and I have to do everything in my power to keep them safe and provide a stable environment for Sibylle. That’s where you come in.”

  “Me? What do you want me to do?”

  “When the time comes, I need you to testify. Tell the judge what you saw that day. How Horst attacked me.”

  Henni gulped, and Katja knew the idea of speaking out in public, in front of Horst,
would be frightening. If he didn’t go to jail, Horst could come after her. There was a moment when Katja thought Henni would decline, but then she slowly nodded her head.

  “I’ll do it. I hate what Horst did to you. I always hear him yelling, and I’ve been worried about what else he was capable of, that he might pick on Sibylle next. It broke my heart when I heard he’d beat up your mother.”

  “Thank you,” Katja said.

  Henni reached for her hand and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too.”

  A couple days later, Katja landed a full-time job at a neighborhood bakery and café. The position was in the bakery part, not the café, so instead of serving customers coffee and cake all day like she had at Renata’s café, she was in the kitchen washing dishes and scrubbing floors.

  Large, rectangular pans encrusted with the edges of almond and crème cake, apple strudel and poppyseed cake, sat in a pile by a commercial-sized stainless steel sink. Katja used a blade to ease the crusts away into the garbage pail and then scrubbed each pan until it was spotless. Herr Bauer was a hard taskmasker, and he didn’t balk at raising his voice to tell her when she fell short of his expectations.

  He could yell so long as he didn’t fire her. She needed this job.

  When she was finished with the dishes, she had to scrub the floors. Flour and batter stuck stubbornly to the tile, and Katja had to get down on her hands and knees and scrape with the blade to lift it so she could sweep it off. Then she’d mop it clean, the way it would remain until the baker’s shift began the next morning. By the time she was done, her back ached and her hands throbbed.

  The job kept her body busy, but her mind was free to roam. Maddeningly, it always took her back to Dresden, back to happier times with Micah. More than once her tears mixed in with the sudsy water in the sink. Today was no different, and she swiped her face angrily. Why couldn’t she just forget him!

  “Are you okay?”

  Katja stiffened at the voice of the boss's son, Matthias. He was around Micah’s age, and carried himself in the same manner. Money and privilege. He didn’t share Micah’s good looks, but he wasn’t homely, either. He was about her height with short, blond hair. He had a friendly face and on the few occasions she had seen him, he was always smiling.