Saving Anna

by Sharon Struth

  “Where’s the woman who comes each morning?”

  For a minute she looked confused. “Oh, I guess she’s late.”

  He got out his phone and called Johann to let him know his mother had a problem. Luckily, her son worked five minutes away and said he’d be right over.

  Josef turned to find Mrs. Freudenberger sitting on the sofa and watching the television, Sinbad curled on her lap like a multicolored ball of yarn.

  “Johann is on his way over. He’ll find out why your helper did not show.” The clock ticked, escalating his anxiety over his drive to Villa Von Essen. “Will you be okay if I leave?”

  She glanced at him for a split second before returning to her program. “Oh yes. My show is on.”

  But he couldn’t move. He slipped his hand in his pocket and wrapped the metal key in his fingers. An involuntary shiver coursed through him, the object invoking as much fear as a drop of plutonium.

  There was still time to take the tram to the Von Essens’ to meet his new client. The idea withered almost immediately. Soon enough he’d be in the car and driving this person places. Claudia had said the client might need to travel distances. On the highways. A tremor rumbled through him.

  No tram. He needed to practice in the car. Alone.

  He stepped to the door. “Enjoy your show, then. Bye, Sinbad.” The cat ignored him, but his neighbor tossed him a wave.

  Josef walked out of the complex, gripping his cane, feeling as vulnerable as he imagined his aging neighbor did with her fading memory. Getting old wasn’t easy, but better than the alternative of not being alive.

  Like Lily.

  Guilt flowed through his veins, cold as an icy stream in winter, leaving him numb, drowning in sadness over her death once again. Though he’d known her less than a day, she’d spent the last moments of her life with him.

  If only he could somehow have a do-over, change the domino of events that put them in that car. Maybe he would’ve come home during his week off instead of staying in Avignon, France, where his last tour had ended. Or when he and Lily started kissing while they’d danced at the club, he might have changed his mind about asking the pretty stranger back to his hotel. The next morning, what if he’d said no when she suggested they drive to Nice to hang out with her friends, instead of happily joining her?

  A simple change of plans, and Lily would be alive.

  He stabbed the ground with the cane. Angry stabs. Harder and harder the closer he got to the car. What was he so angry about? The doctors’ prognosis about his injury? Or at himself, for not knowing what he’d done to cause that accident?

  He reached his car and got inside. Holding his breath, he turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred, and he thought of Lily’s Fiat. Closing his eyes, he tried to awaken those last moments before impact, when his world went blank…

  Nothing. Again.

  The wheels of his mind were stuck in the mud. He sighed.

  Time to go to the Von Essens’ guesthouse where he’d be greeted by the usual suspects, always happy to see him—and he them. They’d corner him, beg to hear a story of Josef’s travels. So he’d slip on the mask of confidence they all loved to see. The one that got him through the day when he ran into old friends. Where he’d act a part and re-live his prior adventures while clinging to the hope he’d soon return to his old life.

  But first, he had to drive there. An adventure of a different kind.

  He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly while placing his hands on the wheel. Thump. Thump. Thump. His pulse, pounding in his ears. A foreboding sound. Like he should escape from the car and run while he could.

  He concentrated on breathing and shifted his focus. A few years ago, he’d taken a leap with a bungee cord. The same pounding had gone on inside him. An excited pulse. Not terror, but exhilaration. Drawing from that feeling, he gripped the gearshift with determination, kicking his resolve into high gear. He could do this. It was merely a car drive!

  He gently placed his foot on the gas pedal and slowly backed up. After taking a deep breath, he shifted into drive. His arms tensed, and he clung tight to the wheel, blood racing as if the car were about to plunge into the Grand Canyon. He lifted his foot off the brake and pushed the gas pedal, easing out onto the street with more trepidation than he’d ever had in his life.

  * * * *

  The neighborhood streets around the guesthouse were lined with trees, apartment buildings, single-family homes, and plenty of shops. Homier than the busy part of the city Joachim had driven them through on the way from the airport. Anna stopped at a bakery, purchased a delicious sandwich filled with meat, cheese, and veggies for a late lunch, and enjoyed eating while walking alongside the sparkling river toward the guesthouse.

  When she arrived, she searched the main floor for Joachim or his wife, Regina, to ask if her guide had arrived. Anna walked toward the sound of laughter in the dining room. Several of the hotel’s guests sat at one of the round tables, listening to a man she didn’t know. A sideboard near the table held a cake, coffee carafe, and china cups. The afternoon Kaffee und Kuchen Joachim had mentioned during breakfast.

  The stranger wrangled the attention of all the men she’d met a breakfast, who seemed spellbound by his words. Even Lucy and Ricky sat quietly next to Max, their eyes focused on the speaker.

  Anna stopped at the entryway to listen, drawn to the passion in the stranger’s voice. He orchestrated like a conductor, his large hands with long fingers moving with exaggerated actions, and subtle lifts and drops of his light brown brows animated his face. At times his square jaw jutted out to emphasize words she couldn’t understand. His short brown hair carried a hint of red, also visible in his mustache and close-trimmed beard. She stared longer than polite at his eyes, the blue-green hue enhanced when they sparkled as he laughed at something Max said.

  The relaxed posture of his long, slender body spoke to his confidence. A man who, no doubt, adored this audience. Any audience. That same kind of self-assurance had drawn her to Patrick the night she’d seen him performing karaoke at a bar in Seattle.

  As he continued talking, the man glanced to the doorway and their eyes met. He went silent as his gaze flicked over her face for a beat then traveled her body.

  He smiled. “Hallo, willst du hereinkommen?”

  She straightened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You are not.” His brows furrowed, a split second where he seemed confused, then he said, “I asked if you would like to come in.”

  “Anna, please join us.” Joachim waved her over and pulled out an empty chair at his side. “Josef, this is the young lady who needs your assistance while in the country.” He glanced at Anna. “I get you some cake.” He stood and hurried over to the sideboard.

  She smiled at her guide while he stared at her, his eyes lingering with a look she could only describe as uncertainty.

  He finally pushed out a stiff smile. “Hello, Anna.”

  She nodded. “Josef.”

  Joachim placed a slice of cake and fork in front of her and returned to his seat. “Finish the story, Josef.”

  “Yes. In English, for Anna, bitte.” Max leaned forward and ran a hand along his dogs’ heads. “Lucy is waiting to hear what Borneo is like.”

  Lucy did seem interested in Josef. The piece of cake on a plate in front of him probably explained why.

  He smiled at the dog and leaned over to give her a good scratch behind the ear. “Borneo was beautiful. A lush island, with some of the richest equatorial rainforest in the world.” He sat back but kept an eye on Lucy. “Did you know it is the third largest non-continental island in the world?”

  Anna was a little relieved the dog didn’t answer, but Max said, “Nein, I did not.”

  Josef took a bite of his cake as he looked at Max. “What about Ricky? Does he have questions?”

  Max
glanced at the other dog. “Just more details, because at his age, he will never see Borneo.”

  “Then the details you will get.” Josef smiled, kindly, as if he enjoyed playing along with Max. “My trip to Borneo was a special assignment, given to me in my third year of working at Wanderlust Excursions. This trip was for a group of German politicians who wanted a different kind of vacation. The excursion owner is a childhood friend and she knows I love anything new and different, so she gave me first shot at running the tour. A different path for our company, but one that opened the door to the adventure tour division I expanded…”

  So this was her guide. A man who’d been to Borneo, who was the go-to guy at Wanderlust for action-oriented tours? Why would he want to haul her around? Spend days in the car driving to locations for research, or to meet possible men who matched Gunther’s description?

  As he finished his story, the coffee carafe was passed around. She listened to the conversation at the table, more questions about the trip, spoken in a mix of German and English. Every so often she’d glance Josef’s way to find him watching her, his perusal filled with curiosity. Or was it suspicion? Was she just paranoid because she’d spent the past two years of her life guessing what her husband might be thinking? Fearful he might strike her over the slightest misstep, innocent as it might be?

  Florian complained about having to get back to work and left for the kitchen. Joachim collected cake plates. Otto and Max lingered a little longer, but when Josef finally stood and walked his plate toward a bin near the kitchen door, the other two men got up but didn’t leave.

  Josef moved slowly, his frame tall and lean, his jeans a little loose and his long-sleeved pullover fit snug to his broad chest. To her surprise, he limped.

  Before returning to the table, Josef lifted a wooden cane leaning against the wall and returned without using it. He rested it on the tabletop, then slowly squatted down to pet Max’s dogs.

  Before coming here, Anna had considered German a harsh language, certainly not a romance language like Italian. But there was nothing severe about the exchange as Josef talked to the dogs. Each strong consonant—for the language definitely emphasized those—was cushioned by his gentle tone, and the dogs wagged their tails in response.

  Max joined the canine conversation, and they went on like that for a minute before Josef took a seat and continued conversing.

  She felt awkward, even a little ignored, so she stared out the patio windows. Would he be this indifferent to her during their drives? Did it matter? Or maybe they were chatting in their native tongue because it was easier, what they did more naturally. It didn’t mean they were intentionally ignoring her. Two years with Patrick had groomed her to hone in on subtle nuances of interactions that she often internalized. Even her sister once said Anna had become overly sensitive.

  The men went silent, then Josef glanced Anna’s way. “I was just telling Max my sister was thinking of getting a dachshund.”

  “Oh.” The uncomfortable feeling lifted. “They are nice dogs.”

  Max finally grunted as he rose from his chair and turned to her. “Maybe you would help me walk the dogs later, Anna? My knee is under doctor’s care right now.”

  “I’d be happy to. I need to stay awake.”

  He nodded and walked off, Otto saying goodbye and leaving right behind him.

  She turned to Josef. He watched her, a flash of discomfort zipping across his eyes.

  “So where do we begin?” She took the seat Max had just left. She smiled brightly, enough to soften even the hardest soul.

  He ran his hand along his chin and his lips wavered with a slight smile. “Some specifics on exactly why you need my services would be a good start.”

  “Well, I’m searching for a man. All I know is his name and where he lived back in 1938, but he’s no longer there.”

  “I see. Have you done any additional research?”

  “I’m afraid not.” She debated telling him that her hosts had reached out to him too early, but she didn’t want to sound as though she hadn’t appreciated the effort.

  “Then you may need me to drive you in a search of public records?” He raised a brow, but with far less enthusiasm than he’d shown during his talk about Borneo.

  “I guess. To be honest, I’m not certain how to go about finding someone in Germany with only dated information. I tried a little after breakfast today but didn’t get very far. I think I’m just tired.”

  “I see.” Tension tugged at his jaw, making the lines of his handsome face harden.

  “Oh, wait. I have an envelope upstairs with a photograph of the man. Should I get it?”

  “Sure.” He stood and grabbed his cane. “I’m going outside for a smoke while you do.”

  He slipped on his jacket and walked carefully on the tile floor toward the patio doors.

  He didn’t seem thrilled to be working with her. Heck, she wasn’t sure if she’d want to work with him. He was like two sides of a coin, one friendly that loved playing to an audience, the other tense and a bit direct. Even somewhat moody. Same as Patrick. But why? She hadn’t done anything to him.

  A knot formed in her belly as she hurried up the staircase. She’d never done anything to provoke Patrick, either. Yet she’d felt his fury more times than she could count. She wanted to crawl inside herself, never get into a car with this man. What if he hurt her, too? Even crossing the Atlantic couldn’t get her away from horrible men.

  Panic enveloped her as she neared her door. She stopped, took a deep breath, stopped her ridiculous thinking. Assuming that because a man was lukewarm toward her he might hurt her only proved she was overly sensitive. Obstacles like this could haunt her for the rest of her life. It gave Patrick control, even when he wasn’t around.

  But only if she let it.

  She’d get in Josef’s car and try not to take everything so darn personally. Patrick’s treatment was personal. But she should give others a fair shake. Like Josef. If he became intolerable, then she’d find another way to search for Gunther. A new guide.

  No, that would be all wrong. The act of a scared woman.

  Instead, she’d become the woman she wanted to be. One who asserted herself and asked people if something was wrong. Didn’t retreat into her shell in the presence of a moody man. And above all else, demanded to be treated with respect. The way she should’ve in her marriage, after the first time Patrick’s rage appeared.

  Chapter 5

  A ghost. He’d seen a bloody ghost. Or so he’d thought. For a few minuscule seconds.

  Josef leaned his cane against the wall of the guesthouse, reached into his jacket pocket, and removed a cigarette.

  After lighting it, he took a drag and vowed to quit again. Soon. The nicotine flooded his blood stream but didn’t calm his nerves.

  He’d looked up to the doorway, and there she’d stood. Lily. His body had gone cold, but the second she spoke, he’d been jolted back to reality. Lily was French and spoke English with a very strong accent. This woman appeared to be one hundred percent American. Of course, upon closer look, she’d borne only a slight resemblance to Lily. Hell, he’d known the French woman less than twenty-four hours and images of her in his mind blurred more with each passing day.

  The American stared at him as he’d tried to gather his better senses and continue talking like nothing had been wrong. Only the worst was yet to come. Joachim had introduced her as the traveler he’d been hired to drive around. He’d sat there, stunned. Plunked right into a nightmare come to life. He could barely get behind the car’s steering wheel alone, but put a woman in the passenger’s seat who happened to resemble Lily….

  Verdammt!

  He took a long drag from the cigarette and blew out a slow stream of smoke. Both women had the same heart-shaped face surrounded by dark, loose, wavy hair. They had pretty eyes, black as opals and mysterious as the unknown. But Anna had
a pert nose, turned up ever so slightly. Lily’s was straight and Grecian. And she’d been taller, her hair a bit longer. Hadn’t she?

  He laughed at his foolishness. A ghost. What next? Zombies and werewolves?

  He wouldn’t have accepted this job if he’d known they looked similar, though. Or maybe he would have. The boredom found in office work had left him restless. Mornings lately he had to force himself to rise from bed. So what if he had to chauffeur a ghost around town?

  But the idea sent a little chill up his spine as he considered the awful drive over here.

  He inhaled another drag, slowly letting the smoke swirl in ringlets that eventually broke apart and drifted away, much like his memories of what had occurred in that damn crash.

  Uncertainty pummeled him as he paced the patio. How could he get into a car with her—Anna? If anything happened, he’d end up living his nightmare all over again.

  Maybe he should call it quits, end this charade before it started. He searched for ways to back out. Before he could get too far, though, he realized this opportunity could be a gift in disguise.

  Driving a woman who looked similar to Lily might stir the details about the accident his mind had blocked. Those irretrievable moments right before impact that held all the answers to one big question: Why had he swerved? And if driving Anna kicked off any memory, this nightmare of blaming himself for Lily’s death might end. He could move on, not wake each day asking himself the same answerless questions. Of course, the return of his memory might show his culpability in her death, but he couldn’t feel any worse than he did now.

  He stamped out the cigarette in an ashtray on a table. The near-constant ache in his leg flared on his way inside. He patted his pockets only to realize he’d left his pain medication at home. New over-the-counter meds, less potent than his prescription, but the doctor insisted he wean himself off the harder stuff during the day.