by Calia Read
And madness was unpredictable.
Beautiful.
Of course I would snatch the chance to spend time with him.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. It seemed like the further we got from Garmisch, the more relaxed he became. A large hand gripped the steering wheel. And the other dangled over the gear shift. Sunglasses covered his eyes but I had no doubt they were as intense as ever.
“Going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked.
“No.”
“I think I know where we’re going.”
Mathias grinned. I loved when he grinned. That grin made my brain short circuit. “Do you now?”
I nodded.
“Where do you think the destination is?”
“A park.” It came out more as a question.
Mathias mulled over my words for a few seconds before he shook his head. And that’s how it went for a while. Me guessing. Him denying.
We played this game well. And we’d better; it was our reality.
We drove down alpine roads that were nothing but hairpin curves. On one side you would be against the gray slate of the mountain and on the other was nothing but a questionable barrier that kept you from plunging down the hillside. It wasn’t uncommon for people to pull over on these roads and take pictures, especially at this time of year when the trees were bursting with colors of burnt gold, red, and orange.
Plus, today was a rare treat. It was perfectly sunny, with only a few clouds that looked more like cotton balls.
I messed with the radio, and surprisingly, Mathias didn’t complain once. I found a song that I liked and sat back in my seat.
After a few seconds, Mathias frowned over at me. “What is this?”
“A song. A good song. Why? You don’t like it?”
“I hate all that Top 100 shit.”
“Liar.”
“I do.”
I shifted and faced him. “Let me guess … you like classical music?”
“You don’t?”
“I love all types of music as long as it makes me feel something.”
He nodded, seeming to understand exactly what I meant.
We passed a village and endless grass fields that went on for miles. To my right, a small, white church in the middle of nowhere appeared. I grinned at Mathias knowingly. At first I might have been clueless to our destination, but now I knew.
A few minutes later we drove into the village of Hohenschwangau. The flow of traffic became busier. Tour buses were parked to the left, with people gathering on the sidewalk to take pictures of Neuschwanstein. The Cinderella castle.
It was perched on top of a mountain, standing tall and proud. Even though I had lived in this area my whole life, I still appreciated this beautiful view.
Mathias pulled into a parking lot that was almost filled. He didn’t say a word, just parked. The room on my side was tight. I had to turn sideways and shuffle over to him.
Around us, people were bustling about. Parents strapped their kids into strollers. Dozens of groups huddled together, digging for their cameras and making sure they had everything.
“Please tell me you’ve been here before,” I said to Mathias.
Mathias tucked his hands into his pants and exhaled. It was cold enough that his breath appeared in front of him. He shrugged.
“My grandparents took me and my brothers here once when we were little.” He looked at the ground thoughtfully. “I think I was eight or nine.”
At the mention of his past, I perked up. “Did you visit your grandparents a lot?
“Not really. Maybe a handful of times.”
“What are your brothers like?” I asked.
We walked on the narrow, cobblestone sidewalk, sometimes having to walk on the edge of the road to dodge all the tourists. Souvenir shops ran the length of the main road, selling Bavarian flags, T-shirts, steins, magnets, pens, stuffed animals, all with King Ludwig or Neuschwanstein on the front.
“You never got the chance to meet them?”
“I think I’ve met them before. I just don’t remember.”
“Well, they’re completely different from me, so you’d probably like them,” he joked.
“Somehow I doubt that,” I said quietly.
Mathias looked away.
“Thayer graduated college this year,” he continued, “and got drafted into the NBA.” I heard a hint of pride in his voice. “Macsen … he’s graduating soon. Don’t know what he’s going to do after that.”
“You know so much about one brother and nothing about the other, why not?”
He looked at me, a single brow arched. “Has anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?”
“Not once.”
And it was true. I only asked questions if I was curious and wanted answers.
“When we’re in the studio, it’s nothing but music and keys. There’s never any room for anything else. But here?” I stepped away and lifted my hands into the air and smiled. “There’s freedom to talk about anything!”
He smiled again. That was the third time. This was a record.
I swallowed and pulled my eyes away from his stunning smile. I pointed to the ticket station. “Are we going to take the tours?”
“No.” Mathias nudged his head toward the path leading up to Neuschwanstein. “If you’ve had the tour once, there’s not much to really see after that.”
When we passed by the carriage with two horses attached. A few people sat in the back, waiting patiently to be taken up to Neuschwanstein.
Mathias looked back at the carriage and then at me. “You want to take that?”
I didn’t have to think very long over my answer. “No, let’s walk.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
I was never going to admit that I wanted all the time I could take with him alone, and sitting in a carriage with strangers, no matter how short of time, was the last thing I wanted.
Before we turned toward Neuschwanstein, I pointed to the right. “Look, Schloss Hohenschwangau! Or, as you Americans would call it, a castle!”
“My German isn’t as good as yours, but I know what schloss means.”
“Good to know.”
Mathias looked up at the castle. “I don’t remember it being there when I was here last time.”
“It’s been here the whole time, even before Mad Ludwig had Neuschwanstein constructed. This was his family’s summer residence.”
“Ahh…”
“And did you know that Mad Ludwig had a telescope on the second floor, so he could watch progress on Neuschwanstein?”
“Thank you, Professor Katja, for the history lesson.”
I stopped and mimed a small curtsy. His lips started to twitch. Did that count as half a smile?
I think it did.
“Can your brothers speak German too?”
“All of us do. Clearly, not as good as you. It’s the only thing Laurena insisted on.” His lips went into a flat line.
Laurena. The mother he refused to talk about. I stared down at the black top. “I see.”
I wanted to ask so many questions right now. All of them were running through my mind at such a fast pace it was impossible for me to settle on one.
Finally, I grabbed onto a subject that seemed harmless.
“Does she live in Germany?”
“Nope,” Mathias bit out. “Last I heard she lives in New York.”
I didn’t ask him any more questions after that.
We were halfway to the castle when we stopped at a small building tucked off the trail. It sold bratwurst, pretzels, and a whole assortment of food that made my stomach grumble.
“You hungry?” Mathias asked.
I nodded and we immediately veered off the path and waited in line, scanning the menu.
“What are you getting?” Mathias asked.
“Süsse Brezel.”
“Where’s that?”
I pointed at the menu. “Sweet pretzel? You’ve never had one?”
I gently nudged him with my elbow. “And you call yourself a German,” I said teasingly.
When the people in front of us took their food and left, I stepped forward. Mathias grabbed ahold of my hand and shook his head. He ordered and paid for the two of us and I didn’t stop him. Felt good. For a second I had a glimpse of what it would be like to be his.
Mathias handed me the drinks. He carried the pretzels and we sat down at one of the tables out in front of the stand. I sat across from him and instantly dug into my pretzel. I’m sure this would’ve been a great opportunity to talk and get to know him, but this was a süsse Brezel. I didn’t have them often. So conversation and anything else in the world could wait.
We sat there in a comfortable silence. Mathias looked around at the people and the impossibly tall trees. I was sneaking glances at him. I think this was the most relaxed I’d ever see him.
I pointed to Mathias’ now empty plate. “What did you think?”
“I think I want twenty more of those.” He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. Through his shirt, I could see the cut of his abs. I looked down at my pretzel, quickly tore off a piece and stuffed it in my mouth.
“So good, right?”
I sucked the sugar off the tips of my fingers. I went to take a drink, but before I did, I looked at Mathias beneath my lashes. My gaze collided with his. What I saw there made me instantly drop my hands into my lap.
He wasn’t sitting back in his chair. He was leaning in, fingers laced and resting on the table. One single brow was arched and the look in his eyes had enough heat to make me break out in a sweat. I’d seen that look before. I saw it when I first met him. It was a hungry look, as if I had a few seconds of a head start before Mathias came at me.
“It was good, right?” I repeated dumbly.
“Really good,” he replied.
It didn’t seem like we were talking about food anymore.
My hands started to shake. So I kept them busy and gathered my trash to throw away.
He’s your instructor, I told myself.
I brushed my hands together and gave what I hoped was a friendly smile. “Ready to go?”
Mathias stared at me a moment longer. Intensity was still brewing there. I stood there underneath his scrutiny for what felt like an eternity before he nodded and threw his trash away.
We continued to walk up the trail. The two of us didn’t say much, but it was a comfortable silence. The sun peeked out from the clouds, bright enough to make me squint and shade my eyes with my hand. Mathias put on his sunglasses. He tilted his head back and looked at the trees around us. I saw the line of his jaw, his strong neck. My thoughts started to drift into dangerous territory. Touching him. My fingers laced behind his neck as I straddled him…
He’s your instructor!
“Do you teach the piano in the States?” I asked, desperate to ignore my very bad thoughts.
Mathias shook his head. “I don’t.”
“What do you do then?”
He looked over at me. A small smirk played across his lips. “What do you think I do?”
“Motivational speaker?” I asked wearily.
Mathias laughed. The sound was genuine and made my gut twist.
“I work for my dad’s company,” he confessed.
“Really? A company that does what?”
“Sells farm equipment.”
My eyes widened.
“Not what you had pictured?”
“Not at all.”
He shrugged. “Went to college and got my business degree. It made sense to work for my dad. I’m the numbers man.”
“It doesn’t make sense at all,” I blurted. “You belong behind a piano and making music.”
Mathias never answered. There was a pretty good chance I had crossed that student/teacher line … again. But seeing him behind a desk, his fingers flying across a calculator instead of piano keys felt like a sin.
“Is being a concert pianist, touring the world, what you really want to do?” Mathias asked.
He was obviously changing the subject. I didn’t care. He had shed some light into his personal life. I could do the same. But no one had ever asked me that question.
I stared ahead, thinking over his question. “I think so.”
Mathias stopped short and lowered his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose. “You think so?”
“Don’t be so judgmental.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” I sighed loudly. “Look, I love the piano. I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t seated behind the piano. But I just want to be absolutely certain that this is something I want to do for the rest of my life.” I glanced at him. “Didn’t you feel that way when you were my age?”
“Well, first off: thanks for making me feel old. Do I need to remind you that I’m only seven years older than you?”
I cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Mathias grinned, completely unabashed. “I know. I was just kidding, but it was fun to watch your cheeks turn red.”
And it was fun for me to see Mathias like this. So carefree. At ease. If this was the interior of his heart, no wonder he hid it so much. It was beautiful.
“To answer your question. Yes, I did know what I wanted to do. I knew from a young age.”
I swallowed. “To be honest, I don’t know if I have any other passion. Opa said I loved to watch my mom play.”
“Was she good?”
I smiled sadly. “Everyone tells me she was amazing.”
“You don’t remember her?”
“Nein.” I sighed. “When they died I was five.”
Mathias was quiet. I was happy for that. Most people offered an ‘I’m sorry’. And there was nothing wrong with that. But was ‘I’m sorry’ going to bring them back? No. There was nothing anyone could do to change what happened.
In person, silence was the best.
“What happened to your parents?”
“They died in a plane crash.” My words were said without conviction. Like I was reading from a cue card. “I was staying with Oma and Opa and they were flying back to the States for a funeral on my dad’s side of the family.”
Mathias looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I shrugged emotionlessly. I wasn’t heartless, even though the gesture made it seem like I was. But it was instinctive when I heard those words.
“How did they meet?
“In Munich.” This story made me smile. Growing up, it was one that I asked my Oma to tell me multiple times before I went to bed. To me, it seemed like a fairytale. “My dad’s American. Did you know that?”
“I think Tobias told me once.”
“He was a government contractor that lived near Weiden for a few years. He met my mom in Munich. They fell in love instantly. Soon they were engaged. Then married. I arrived nine months and four days later.”
Mathias whistled. “Talk about a whirlwind romance.”
“It was.”
Mathias stared at me thoughtfully. I focused my gaze straight ahead. He was probably expecting some emotion and feeling when I talked about my parents. Hysteria or tears. I only had pictures and old family videos to go off of. The memories that I did have were vague, covered in a thin veil, so I could only see portions.
“So all this time I thought you were German born and bred. I had no idea that you were like me.”
I frowned. I never really thought about it. I had a lot more in common with Mathias than I ever realized.
“Are your parents still together?”
Mathias laughed as if I’d said the funniest joke. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, his laughter dying down. “No, not at all. They divorced when I was a kid.”
“I see.”
Going off his reaction to Laurena’s name being dropped, it didn’t sound like an amicable divorce. I stayed quiet; there was no way to navigate the conversation toward something l
ighter. That ship had set sail a mile back.
We reached the top of the trail. People were scattered across the cobblestone: sitting on benches, buying souvenirs, and glancing down at their map guides. In the midst of all the business were couples that had their picture taken, whether it was a selfie or by someone else.
If someone were to give Mathias and me a passing glimpse I was willing to bet we would be lumped in with the couples.
Secretly, my heart loved it.
I took a discreet step closer to Mathias. Our shoulders touched and Mathias didn’t pull away. The two of us looked straight ahead at the incredible view.
Neuschwanstein stood tall and imposing to our left. People craned their necks back and took pictures. For the passionate picture takers was a ledge where you could step out and take pictures of the mountains and the stream below. Not a lot of people walked out onto the observation ledge. Forget that it was made out of steel. If you can see the deep ravine beneath you then you’re seeing way too much. Most people took a few shots of the castle and hurried off.
Without a second thought I grabbed Mathias’ hand and dragged him toward that direction.
“Katja-”
“Come on,” I urged.
I’d been here so many times; the novelty of it should have been old. Yet a rush of excitement ran through me. Maybe it was the tourists or maybe it was the man next to me who gave me this feeling.
That man was now frozen in place like a block of ice. He stared down at the deep ravine as if it was the portal to hell.
“Mathias, come on.”
“Fuck no.”
He took a step back. I stepped onto the steel ledge. He turned white.
“Come out here and see the view.”
Mathias hands disappeared into his jean pockets. He rocked back on his heels, looking ready to bolt.
I couldn’t believe it. This man, who towered over most people, was afraid of heights.
“Come on,” I coaxed one more time. I couldn’t keep the small smile from my face. In my position, I don’t think anyone would blame me. It was nice to see that Mathias wasn’t perfect. He had flaws. He had fears.
“Katinka,” he warned.
“Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not scared,” he replied quickly.
I quirked a brow and gestured to the open space next to me. “Then come stand next to me.”