“I’m sorry to hear about her divorce. She was always a nice person, but she doesn’t need an old man with a cane at her side.”
Helga blurted out a laugh. “Oh stop! One, she is your age. And two, you will get better. Compared to when you first came home, you’ve improved in leaps and bounds.”
“I suppose, but I’m not perfect yet.”
Helga poked his side. “And you were perfect before?”
He pulled away, laughed. “You know what I mean. Able to do the things I love to do. On another topic, Claudia gave me an interesting assignment. An American visitor has hired me to help her while she’s here.”
“So you will take her on the sights of Rhineland?” His mother raised her brows. “How will you manage with your leg?”
“The sights around here aren’t so dangerous I cannot easily maneuver them, but she isn’t here as a tourist. She is here to find a man who helped her friend during the war.” He explained what he knew about Anna’s search.
Both women asked several questions he could not answer. He chuckled but only to hide how foolish he now felt at having asked Anna so little. But his leg had hurt. And the next day, driving took all his concentration. “You two are like the press. If she wanted me to know, she would have told me.”
Helga chuckled. “It’s called having a conversation. Or you were too busy thinking about yourself to ask?”
The remark had some truth to it and stung, but he kept the mood light and gently elbowed her. “Watch it, or I’ll take back my offer to take the boys for you so you can go to the spa with Regina.”
She tossed back her head and laughed. “Ja, Ja. I take everything back.”
His mother patted Josef’s shoulder. “Be nice, Helga. Josef is like his father. Just focused on other things.”
Ten years ago this past spring, his father had passed away. His mother still talked about Dad with great reverence, but a man who served himself first did not deserve such appreciation for eternity. Josef both admired and detested his father, leaving him conflicted even long after losing him.
Helga stood while raising a brow at Josef. “Maybe my brother can help me clean up, so Mutti can have some time with the boys.”
“Oh, Helga, let him relax.” His mother gave Helga a disapproving shake of the head. “With his leg, he shouldn’t be doing anything.”
Helga rolled her eyes while stacking her sons’ plates. “Oh, yes. We must spoil King Josef.”
Her tone mocked in a playful way, but deep down, Josef heard more.
Helga turned to him and winked. “Good thing I love you so much.”
Josef usually laughed off these exchanges, only this time the exchange didn’t seem so funny.
Maybe it was the talk about the likeness to his father. A man whose job as a reporter for the BBC had taken him to dangerous parts of the world. Assignments he happily took, as if he didn’t have a family back home, waiting and worrying about him.
But when Dad came home, Josef followed him everywhere, hung on his every word. The man loved an audience. By God, he defined self-absorbed, and yet Josef aspired to be just like him.
And he had.
The sacrifice? Commitment. A family of his own. With freedom, he pursued adventures knowing he’d never burden a wife or children with his absence. So he’d turned into a single version of his dad, but at least nobody at home ever felt disappointment each time he left.
The pattern of his life had made it easy to mostly think about his needs. Seeing himself in this light made his stomach turn.
His mother lifted her plate and started to stand, but Josef put a hand on her shoulder. “Relax and watch the boys play. I’ll help Helga clean up.” He stood.
“You are such a good boy, Josef.”
He took her plate and stacked it on his. “No. Not really, Mutti.”
She frowned.
He smiled to lighten the moment for her. “But I am lucky I have a sister who keeps me in line and mother who loves me so much.”
He walked towards the kitchen door carrying the plates but kept hearing his mother’s words. A good boy. No, good boys turned into grown men who drove carefully, with regard for other people’s lives. They took better care of those around them…
Blame sank into his chest, pulling him into a darkness he’d visited often in the past six months. As he walked into the kitchen, Helga stood at the sink washing out a pot. He went to her side and lowered the plates.
“I’ll dry.” He pulled a dish towel out of a drawer, his sadness lingering like a storm cloud. He fought it, tried to hold himself together.
She handed him the pot she’d just cleaned, carefully looking him over. “What’s wrong?”
The string holding all his emotions snapped. “I’m a mess, Helga.”
She scrubbed a platter and didn’t look at him. “You’ve been through a lot. You need to give yourself a break.”
A lump hardened in his throat, but he fought tears. Why couldn’t he give himself some slack? If only he could turn back the clock.
Quietly, he said, “I cannot stop thinking about the woman in the car with me.”
Helga stopped washing and let the platter sink into the water. “Lily?” she asked softly.
He nodded and the lump dissolved, but a tear ran along his cheek. “If I hadn’t crashed the car, she’d be alive.”
Helga wiped her hands on his dish towel then embraced his shoulders. “But, Josef, it was an accident.”
“Maybe. I have no memory of what happened. Not one damn thing. And now, a woman I barely knew is gone.”
“And it’s eating away at you. You look tired. I can tell you aren’t yourself.”
He dropped his head to hide tears sliding along his cheeks.
Helga drew him into a hug. Neither spoke. Josef stared at the tile floor but all he saw was the darkness of a single instant.
Finally, Helga leaned back and placed a hand on his forearm. He slowly looked up.
Helga’s eyes glistened. “Sometimes we are handed a bad circumstance. Like a test. We have to search deep to understand why whatever we faced has us so troubled and what we can do to make it better.”
“And what does that mean for me?”
“Dig deep, Josef. What’s really going on right now?”
“What you just said out there is true. I have been indulged by the people around me most of my life. It may be a family joke, but it holds some truth.”
“Yes, a little. But I tease—”
“No. I’ve always run a little too hard, a little too fast, with no regard for anybody but myself. Maybe I’d been doing that the day of the crash, too. Lately, I’m beginning to see the man I am and…” He looked to the counter because he didn’t want to see the agreement in his sister’s eyes when he made this confession. “I can be very selfish. Like Dad.”
“You are not selfish. Whenever I’ve needed you, you’ve come to my aid. And yes…” She lowered her voice. “A bit like Dad. But there are good things about that. When you walk in a room, everyone wants to be at your side. You’re friendly and interesting. Same as Dad.”
Same as Dad. A man blinded by his own interests, who couldn’t sustain any relationships because he’d forced himself to remain on the go. Recklessly pursuing adventures, not real-life moments with people he cared about. He lacked depth. The kind of consideration that most people gave to others. Like using caution while they hold the life of another in the palm of their hands
Josef had become all of the above. More tears spilled, and he closed his eyes.
Helga touched his shoulder and he jerked his gaze toward her. “When I said you were like him, I’d meant it in a good way. Everyone loved Dad, like they do you. But I can tell you’re not happy.”
“Because I would do anything to change what happened. Even give up…never mind.”
Helga frown
ed. He braced himself for a lecture to pull himself together, much like the one she’d given him at his hospital bedside in France, when he’d woken from the surgery on his leg.
Only this time, her face softened and she sighed. “You would have liked to have died, too?”
“Not too. Instead of.” He grabbed the dish towel only to realize nothing needed to be dried.
“Ah, I see. So you dying would make any of this better?” She shook her head. “Mein Gott, Josef. It was an accident. Even the police said so.”
“They don’t know what caused it. They are guessing. Maybe I could’ve prevented the accident if I’d been more careful.”
“You mean like our father?”
The words slammed into his gut like a sucker punch. His father’s death in Baghdad back in 2007 was unforgiveable in Josef’s eyes. Was the blame owning him since the crash coming from the same place?
He lowered the dish towel. “What happened to me is totally different.”
“Like I said to you the other day, maybe you’re seeking help from the wrong kind of doctor.”
Tobias banged open the screen door leading into the kitchen, heading straight for his mother.
“Mutti, I need a glass of water.”
“How do you ask?”
“Bitte?”
She nodded, retrieved a glass, and filled it from the tap.
Josef needed to get out of here, get his sister’s suggestion about a shrink out of his head. “How about I referee a game for you boys before I leave?”
Tobias’s eyes lit up. “Ja!”
Josef slipped out the kitchen door and didn’t look back, but Helga’s words about needing a therapist whispered in his ear.
Chapter 9
Anna walked behind Florian and Karen through a tree-lined path displaying banners for the wine festival in Stadtpark. Lively jazz music played in the distance, and the scent of grilled meat and smoke permeated the air.
She tried to enjoy the festive atmosphere, but Patrick’s last text rang in her ears. That’s it! I’m coming home! She pictured him in the brownstone, screaming her name and getting no answer, only to find the note and necklace she’d left on the counter. No doubt he’d race upstairs in a rage, see if she’d taken her clothes and suitcase. Her mouth went dry just imagining it, but without her there, he’d need another outlet for his anger.
They turned a corner and a clearing opened to the festival grounds. Strings of bright, white bulbs outlined tents stationed over long rows of picnic tables on the park’s well-manicured lawn. Additional lights in the surrounding trees and bushes glowed brighter as the sky darkened.
“There they are.” Florian glanced back at Anna then detoured toward one of the tents.
They neared a long table where many people she’d met at the hotel were already seated, including a new couple who’d arrived from the US that morning. Even Max had come, trusty canine companions at his side.
Ruth waved to them, her flashy pink hair a beacon amidst a sea of neutral colors. She pointed to an empty space between her and Otto, who waved his hands while he talked passionately with another guesthouse resident.
“I saved you a seat,” Ruth said loudly. “Florian told me you were joining us.”
“Thanks.” Anna settled onto the bench.
Otto, without missing a beat in his discussion, pushed an empty glass in front of her and filled it from one of the open bottles.
Conversation flowed. The atmosphere was relaxed, happy. There always seemed to be at least two bottles of wine being passed around while they nibbled on garlic bread, bratwurst, and currywurst.
“So tell me, Anna.” Ruth refilled her glass. “How did your column become syndicated in so many papers? That is no small feat.”
As she finished telling Ruth about her search for an agent, Anna heard loud laughter and looked up. Josef stood near the end of their table, talking to Joachim and Regina while several of his friends surrounded him. A second later, his friends headed off to another table, but he stayed behind. The rugged crags of his face softened as he smiled at something Regina said. A nice smile when he used it. He stood with his legs firmly planted, his hands tucked in the pocket of an unzipped khaki military jacket, making the broad shoulders on his slim frame seem wider, and a black T-shirt clung to his ribs.
“Josef!” yelled Otto. He held up a glass. “Wollen sie einen Drink?”
Josef pointed with his thumb toward the group he’d arrived with. “Nein Danke.”
Josef’s gaze panned the table and fell on her briefly. He gave her a quick nod, finished his conversation, and walked over to his group.
Ruth leaned close to Anna and quietly asked, “How did Josef do as your guide today?”
“Fine. I mean, he wasn’t really a guide. More like a chauffeur and translator, though only twice did I need his translating services.” Anna ended it there. Josef appeared to be friendly with many at the guesthouse, and she didn’t want to cross any line by sharing her personal observations about the man.
“Otto was happy to see him back at the guesthouse for the job with you. He’s kept to himself lately.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I first met Josef a few years ago, during one of our stays at the guesthouse. He liked to watch football in the biergarten with Joachim and Florian. Joachim told me he wasn’t always around much because of his job traveling, but I found Josef relaxed, quite likable. But this year, he has changed.”
“How so?”
“There is less life in his eyes, less spirit in his step. Joachim said he was hurt very badly in the car accident. It seems to have taken a toll on him.”
So he’d been in a car accident. It explained both his limp and his nervous driving—if they were related. After witnessing his stress firsthand, she wondered why he would have accepted this assignment. But he must’ve had a good reason. Maybe he was trying to face driving again. Face his fears. Wasn’t that what she was trying to do? Perhaps she and Josef had more in common than she’d first thought.
Otto turned to Ruth and asked her something in German. She gave him a sharp reprimand for interrupting, but after a quick apology to Anna, he continued to talk to his wife.
Anna gave them some privacy and people-watched.
Her gaze drifted to where Josef sat, and she surreptitiously watched him. One minute, he’d be engaged with his friends, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Then she’d catch a dark spark rushing past his distant eyes, gone in a flash when someone in the group called his name and he looked their way with a wide grin. This was a man with problems.
Sympathy tugged at her heart. Whatever ailed him, he wore it on his sleeve.
Her attention stayed on the changing faces of Josef, stirring an always present need she had to make things better. The same need that drove her to never give up on Patrick, until living with him became unbearable.
But Josef wasn’t Patrick. Maybe he needed to talk to someone. She considered approaching him. Before she could, he quickly rose from his seat and walked off without a word to his tablemates.
A short, spikey-haired blond woman sitting across from him watched as he left. She stood and followed him.
Good. He had a friend, possibly a girlfriend. He didn’t need Anna’s help, yet she kept an eye on the path where Josef and the woman had disappeared.
A few minutes into her vigil, she forced herself to stop. Josef had been hired to drive her around. Nothing more. Not even a minute later, though, her gaze drifted back to the footpath. The idea he had problems bothered her like an unscratched itch.
Her parents had raised her to be concerned about other people. They were very active in mission work at their Presbyterian church, and their daughters had done the same. But thinking about those days, she became aware how focusing on the needs of others often meant ignoring her own problems. Especially the year her parents n
ot only opened their hearts, but their home, to a stranger. Six months. Six long, stressful months. A knot tightened in her stomach. That time in her life had changed her, left her with a message: if someone was less fortunate, her needs didn’t matter. Had she let that rule her life with Patrick, too?
When members of her party starting singing, she let go of the memory and smiled as she listened until they were finished, and then she asked Ruth where she could find the ladies’ room.
Following signs reading Toiletten, she ended up in an open area overlooking the river where the bathroom building awaited. Once she finished, she walked to a railing along the path of the river. People mingled nearby, many carrying wine glasses and leaning on the railing like her. Lamppost lights cast a spotlight on the Rhine, making the black water glisten like a fine gem. On the opposite shore, Wiesbaden’s bright lights outlined the buildings.
She took a deep breath of the crisp air and stepped away to return to the festival grounds, nearing a man and woman who talked in the darkened shadows.
The man shouted, “Nein, Claudia.” He continued to talk loudly in German, then abruptly turned away from the woman and walked out into the light. She followed and both stopped right in Anna’s path.
She froze.
Josef stood still, head down, shoulders slumped, seemingly unaware of her presence while he mumbled words Anna didn’t understand. The woman he’d called Claudia moved to him, put an arm around him, and spoke quietly.
Anna didn’t move, stalled momentarily by curiosity. Just as Anna shook it off and managed to take a step away to give them some privacy, a noisy group came up behind her.
Claudia dropped her arms, then both she and Josef looked up. Josef’s gaze met Anna’s. She took in the agony etched on his face, so real that his deep torment infused her heart.
His brows furrowed. “Yes, Anna?” His eyes shifted, then went back to her, no doubt embarrassed to see her there. “What is it?”
Her cheeks burned. She wanted to ask if he was all right, but he obviously wasn’t. She felt like a fool staring at him, and felt horrible for eavesdropping. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Saving Anna Page 8