Thirty minutes later, Ruth and Otto left to hear a lecture at the university. Anna ordered another cup of coffee and took in the view. She pushed aside her troubles in New York, always hovering close by, and people-watched, enjoying the way both young and old traversed the town square. Some in a hurry, others slow, like they had the day off.
Not too far away, a large tour group moved through the square. They all wore colorful, matching tie-dyed T-shirts, making them stand out against the rest of the crowd. She guessed they were retirees based on their appearances. A guide waved his hand for them to keep following as he spoke in English into a microphone about the square’s history. As they passed, Anna smiled at the words Woodstock Wanderers on the back of their shirts. Their ages and shirt design suddenly made sense.
Several minutes later, when the umbrella no longer offered shade, she reached into her purse for her sunglasses.
Her hand grazed her cell phone. She pulled it out, flicked on the roaming in case her sister had tried to call again. After last night’s call about Patrick’s visit halfway across the country to find her, she held her breath.
The pings of incoming messages made her heart race, but she bravely faced them as they popped onto the screen. All were from Patrick.
Please, Anna. I’m worried about you. Are you okay? Please call me.
I’ll go for help, I promise.
I still love you. All I want is to know you’re safe, hold you in my arms. Come on, babe. You know I love you.
He was worried? A brick dropped from the wall she’d built around her emotions on the day she’d filed for divorce. Just one brick. All it took to make her foundation shaky.
She didn’t want him worried about her. No matter what he’d done, she hated to add to another person’s grief.
She typed:
Please don’t worry about my safety. I am fine, but I need this time away.
For a very long minute she debated. She considered the outraged man who’d shown up at her sister’s house. But was this really about her safety or more manipulations so she’d give in to him? She erased the message and turned off the phone. This was how he’d always gotten her. Playing straight to her heart. Not this time.
As she tucked the phone back into her purse, she removed her wallet to pay the bill. She unzipped the coin pocket and fished out a euro, but one finger looped around a band. Her wedding band. Hidden away with Ruth’s encouragement and banished from the light of day since that evening.
She reluctantly removed the ring. The day Patrick had slipped this on her finger he’d stared longingly into her eyes. Oh, the power in those eyes, making her forget they were surrounded by family and friends while love inside her heart exploded with the joy of a fireworks finale.
The sounds of the nearby diners faded as she lowered the ring and secured it at the base of her finger. No fireworks this time. Only a reminder of what happened mere days after they’d returned from their honeymoon. The first time he lost control.
All over a jar of jelly she’d forgotten to add to her shopping list. He’d pinned her shoulders against the kitchen wall, demanding she go back out and buy some, refusing to release her as she cried out in pain. Not the worst thing he’d done to her, but the first step in both the mental and physical abuse he employed to tear down her self-esteem. One piece at a time, until she began to question herself.
A tear slid down her cheek. She yanked off the ring and stuffed it back in the purse compartment. One by one she ticked off the moments that had solidified her decision to file for divorce. Horrible memories that still made her belly tremble. The same moments that guided her to the lawyer’s office. And now he’d been served. She inhaled deeply, expanded her lungs to their fullest, owning every bit of the pride she deserved.
The next step? Facing him. Even though her lawyer assured her she wouldn’t have to talk to him if she chose not to, she needed to look him in the eyes. Bravely. Without fear. Otherwise, she’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, fearful he might appear.
A metamorphosis had started the day she walked out, though she wasn’t quite there. But she’d faced Josef and his moods when they’d first met. And she’d been strong enough to not respond to the pleas of Patrick each time he called or texted. Every day, she grew a little stronger, a little more like the woman she used to be. Yet what happened just now showed how easily what she’d built could come crumbling down.
* * * *
Josef blinked as he stared outside. What had he just seen?
“You haven’t been yourself since the accident,” Gabriel said, tuning Josef back to their conversation.
“Yes, but a therapist? As if my pain is all in my head and this stranger will make it go away.”
Again, Josef’s gaze drifted out to the patio. He hadn’t noticed Ruth, Otto, and Anna sitting out there until the older couple had stood to leave. Anna remained at the table alone, staring at her phone. Then she’d taken out a ring and slipped it on. As he watched her, she frowned and closed her eyes, so sad the pain seeped into his chest. The guilt of what he’d done to her this morning crawled back under his skin.
He slowly tuned back into his brother’s words. “What?”
“I said, I am sure it isn’t in your head, but…” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t even listening. I thought you wanted to talk about this.”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Gabriel pursed his lips. “Maybe what the physician said, it couldn’t hurt. Helga talked to me the other day.”
He again glanced out the window. Was she crying?
“….and our mental and physical well-being is often tied together.”
Josef snapped his attention back to his brother.
“The doctor’s advice could be sound. Why not give it a try? But if not a professional, talk to Helga or me whenever you need to. It’s never good to keep things bottled up. And maybe after a while, the idea of talking to a professional will feel more right.”
“A good point. Maybe I just need to get comfortable talking more. I really have been trying. Thanks for listening.”
Josef already felt better. Gabriel could be counted on for his honesty. He was as sensible as Josef was impulsive. Even in their attire, with Gabriel in his suit and Josef in khakis and a rugby shirt. And yet, the respect they had for each other bonded them.
Gabriel smiled and patted Josef’s shoulder. “It is what brothers are for. I have to get back to the office.” He stood and dug twenty euro from his wallet.
Josef held up his hand. “My treat. I’m going to stay and have another cup of coffee.”
“Thanks. Next time, I pay. Hey, don’t forget to let me know if you are bringing anyone to the wedding.”
“Tell her I’m coming alone.”
“I will. But if you change your mind, you have a little time before we notify the restaurant.”
Gabriel walked out and passed by Anna’s table. Josef’s gaze drifted to her as she wiped her cheeks with her fingers. She had been crying. He looked away, giving her the private moment. But restlessness over what he’d done to her today made him get up, gather the check, and pay the bill.
Once outside, he approached her table. From here he could see her puffy eyes. He briefly considered she might not want company, but a gravitational pull propelled him forward.
When he stopped at the table, she looked up.
“Oh. Hi.” She didn’t smile the way she usually would. “I didn’t expect to run into you here. Was everything okay this morning?”
“Yes. I—I…” Her somber expression ruffled something inside him, but he managed to say, “I was having lunch with my brother inside and saw you here. I came over to apologize for missing our appointment.”
The tense muscles of her face softened. “Well, thanks. Don’t worry about it.”
“I really am sorry.”
Her lips tightened, and she shook her head. “Trust me, I’m used to apologies, and yours sounded sincere.” Her eyes watered, and she blinked the wetness away. “You’re forgiven. You couldn’t help what happened.”
Used to apologies? What did that mean? “Mind if I have a seat?”
“Not at all. I’m finishing my coffee.”
As she looked out at the square while sipping her coffee, he sat and rested his cane on the ground. “Why are you used to apologies?”
She looked at him, her dark eyes perfectly still, giving away not a single hint about what she might be thinking.
Uncomfortable, he averted his eyes to the table. They stopped at her folded hands. The ring that caused tears had been removed. He flicked his gaze back to her face.
She narrowed her eyes. “What were you just looking at?”
“Nothing.” Though he expected she knew what he’d been looking at.
Her cheeks flushed pink. “Were you watching me from inside?”
She deserved his honesty. “Yes. I saw you put your ring on. Now I see it is off.”
She blew out a soft sigh. “I was thinking about my husband—you know, the soon be to ex. The ring came out of hiding in a moment of weakness. He sent me a text, begging for forgiveness. But he’s been sorry too many times in our marriage.” She immediately put her hand on his. “Your apology and reason for giving it was fine. I’m just a little burnt from hearing it so often from my husband. That’s all.”
“For what does he want forgiveness?”
She leaned back in the chair and sighed heavily. “He—well, he’d overreact to things all the time and… Our marriage just wasn’t happy.” Her eyes watered. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, he’ll be my ex soon.”
He nodded. “I see. I promise if I am going to be late again to let you know. The news I got today wasn’t great. Guess that is why I got lost in my own thoughts, forgot our appointment.”
The tenseness on her face softened. “I’m sorry you got bad news. Want to talk about it?”
Compassion in her voice almost made him want to talk. Yet, he couldn’t admit to her that a doctor just told him he was a head case. Besides, if he told her what had happened in the accident, she would never get in his car again. And he wanted her in his car. Those rides with her were helping him feel almost normal at times, at least behind the wheel.
“They are stumped why I’m not healing better,” he said, kind of half-truthfully. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“I’m sorry. Nothing is worse than not feeling like yourself. Believe me, I understand. I imagine you’re anxious to return to your old job. It’s hard not being able to do what we love.”
“Yes. What do you love to do?”
She smiled, a tender smile that reached her eyes. “Write. Luckily, it’s my job.”
“What is it you write?”
“A syndicated column, for several major market newspapers in the States, called Kindness Connects.”
As she talked about it, he pulled out his cigarettes, remembered their conversation about smoking two days ago and tucked them away.
“Anyway, writing the column has been very rewarding.”
“And now you are helping someone.”
She looked up and her brows rose. “Oh, you mean looking for Gunther?”
“Of course. Isaak is lucky to have you to do this for him.”
“I never thought about it that way. I’m more focused on what Gunther did for Isaak. Did I mention that I’m writing about this trip for my column?”
“No.”
“I’m pretty excited about the idea. I believe what happened years ago is a story worth sharing.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Something she’d said earlier still rang in his ears. “You mentioned that you don’t feel like yourself sometimes. Do you mind if I ask what you mean?”
She furrowed her brows, such deep concentration it seemed as if the question suddenly meant everything to her. “My life for a couple of years has left me disconnected and confused. Feeling like I have no control…” Her voice drifted and eyes watered. “Probably because I can now see that my husband held all the power in our lives. But now I’m taking my power back.”
“That must feel good.” He understood that need. Gabriel’s advice moments ago returned and Josef blurted out, “Control is what I am missing, too. Because of the accident.” The weight of the truth lodged in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “I—I do not remember what happened that caused the car to crash.”
“What do they think caused it?”
“I swerved, but they do not know why. They speculate to avoid something, but…” He stopped himself from telling her about Lily’s death. He liked that she’d opened up to him and hadn’t minded sharing some of his sorrows. But revealing he’d caused a death went a step too far. At least today, when so much more rested on his mind. “My hope is that if I remember, it will restore the loss of control I have felt since that day.”
The words, spoken aloud to someone who carried her own form of pain, helped him make sense of the frustration eating away at him since he woke from the crash.
She didn’t speak right away, only watched him with a thoughtful expression. “It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“How you want to remember, but I wish to forget.” Her eyes watered, and she looked down at her hand, the one that had held the ring.
He wanted to reach out, touch her pale cheek, make her feel better. Instead, he asked, “What do you want to forget?”
She looked his way, blinked away the wetness making her eyes glisten, and the corners of her mouth lifted. “Let’s talk about something else. I’ve got an idea. I’m about to look around town. Otto and Ruth suggested I see the Gutenberg Museum, the Mainz cathedral, and the stained glass windows at St. Stephen’s. Care to join me?”
In the short time he’d been talking to her, he’d forgotten all about the ache in his leg. “Sure. This is my hometown, you know. I’m happy to give you the deluxe tour.”
She smiled, more brightly than before. “The deluxe tour? Guess it’s my lucky day.”
He returned her smile but knew he was the one who was having a lucky day.
Chapter 14
Josef walked unsteadily from his bedroom to the kitchen as the ache in his leg pulsed with furious reminders of his injury, denying him the sleep he craved. He dumped two ibuprofen from a bottle and opened the refrigerator door.
A container of yesterday’s leftover pasta sat alone on the center shelf. He heated it up in the microwave and plunked down at the tall stool next to the peninsula with a fork, pushing the pills to the side.
As he ate, he gave in to thoughts about the rest of his day with Anna. Another reason he couldn’t sleep. Her enthusiasm as they went sightseeing made the Mainz cathedral holier, the Gutenberg Museum more impressive, and the Marc Chagall stained glass at St. Stephen’s glow with brighter blues.
Then dinner. Who’d suggested dinner? Right, it was him, when she’d asked him for recommendations on restaurants with authentic food of the region.
They’d gone to his favorite place in Mainz and devoured tender schnitzel with a bottle of dry local German wine. Surrounded by candlelight and rustic timber walls, they’d talked about themselves. An evening he’d never forget, so relaxing and filled with subtle intimacies.
Anna was a great listener and gave thoughtful responses to their topics of conversation. At times she offered wisdom he couldn’t see on his own. So insightful, and yet delivered with a gentle hand. It didn’t hurt the way she’d watch him with those mysterious dark eyes, and how her fingers twirled her loose curls, making him want to touch the strands to learn if they were as soft as they appeared. Her interest in his adventures made him feel ten feet tall, like he didn’t walk with a damn cane. He’d discovered a whole ot
her joy in her contagious laughter while he shared stories of the funnier things that had happened in his travels. At one point, it struck him how he hadn’t seen her laughing that much since she’d arrived.
And he’d loved hearing about her life. The passion she had for her work came through when she discussed her early columns, finding an agent, and eventually syndicating in newspapers all over the country. He’d learned about Washington State and where she grew up on Whidbey Island.
Any time he neared the subject of her husband or her marriage, though, she gave a vague answer, then steered him away skillfully as a cattle rancher shifting the direction of his herd.
He ate the last bite of pasta, pushed the plate aside, and pulled his laptop closer. In the search bar he typed Anna Abrams, thought for a moment, then added Kelly, the name Joachim had said was originally given to him.
Several listings flashed on the screen with her name. He clicked on a link to the Chicago Tribune. Anna’s photograph appeared on the top of the column. Same heart-shaped face, delicate as a porcelain doll’s. Yet the newspaper headshot showed life in her eyes. A glow he hadn’t seen until tonight at the restaurant.
A quote beneath the photo read Never underestimate the power inside of you to change someone’s day. He considered those words. Not once had he moved about his day thinking about his actions in these terms.
After each story heading, there was a quote about kindness or compassion from someone famous like the Dali Lama or Oprah. Anna wrote brilliant opening lines that neatly tied into a message at the story’s end.
Even as she spoke last night, one thing had been clear: Anna tried to search for the humanity in everyone she met.
Does she see anything in me?
The idea lingered, and he hoped the answer was yes.
Tomorrow they would visit another name on her list. He wished for her success, because he could see how much it meant to her.
And then a notion struck him smack dab in the forehead… Finding Gunther mattered to him. Her success would be his, too.
The story about Gunther’s heroism felt personal to Josef, in ways he couldn’t fully understand. Maybe because it mattered to Anna, to Gunther, and his family. But the search had taken a personal twist, leaving him curious and challenged. A new type of adventure.
Saving Anna Page 13