by Meg Lelvis
At that moment, she thrust the journal towards Jack. She turned, speaking to Sherk. He nodded. “Now she wants you to take it.” He lowered his voice. “She didn’t want the daughter to find out about it, and if you’re holding it, she won’t be rude and question a stranger about what’s in his hands.”
Jack shrugged. “Okay by me.”
“Monika will be here in a few minutes, and then we’ll visit Ariana. We’ll bid auf wiedersehn then.”
“Does Renate realize we’re heading back to Munich today?”
“Yes, and she wants to keep in touch, so I’ll give her my contact info.”
Grateful that Renate had given him the insight on his father, Jack would miss her charm and goodness. She reminded him of his little Irish grandmother who had died when he was a boy. The same gentle ways, same cheerful face, same coffee, similar cake, in that his grandma never made apple strudel.
Several minutes later, a knock followed with a chirpy “Hallo” prompted Renate to rise and walk to the door. ““Komm herein, mein Lieblig.”
Jack and Sherk both stood. An attractive dark-haired woman hugged Renate and glided into the living room. She chatted away with her and glanced at the men.
So, this was Monika. Jack’s first reaction was perhaps he’d like to stick around longer than planned. He took in her ivory satiny blouse and black tailored pants, the same slim body of Renate’s. She looked to be in her fifties, a little younger than Jack, but the right age if he were looking. And damn, why shouldn’t he look?
Renate nervously guided Monika into the room, introducing her to Sherk and then Jack. Monika shook their hands, and said to Jack, “It’s so good to meet you. Renate’s told me about you.”
“Same here.” He grinned. “It’s nice someone else speaks English.”
“I’ll bet it is. I learned it in school, and I use it on my job.”
Her brown sleek hair, gently threaded with gray, curtained her face; sapphire eyes gazed at Jack. She resembled Ariana except for her darker hair and something else Jack couldn’t pinpoint.
Renate directed them to sit down, arms waving about like a maestro conducting his orchestra. “Wer will Kaffee?” she sang, her cheeks flushed. Were her hands shaking?
Everyone declined her offer, either in German or English.
Jack wasn’t sure how long they’d sit conversing with Monika, but hell, she was easy on his eyes. No hurry as far as he was concerned. He noticed a ring on each hand, both with serious rocks that sparkled as she moved her hands on her thighs. He willed himself to use his brain. After all, she lived overseas, and with his luck, married. Nevertheless, he found her intriguing, but off-limits.
Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to be social, he said, “You mentioned you speak English in your job. What do you do?”
“I’ve worked for Mercedes for years,” she said, with barely a German accent. “You may know Mercedes is headquartered in Stuttgart, and I teach English to German executives, as well as German to Americans and other expats who locate here for a while.”
Jack nodded. “Interesting job. Have you been to the States?”
“A few times.” Her dark blue eyes held his gaze as if they saw right through him. “My father had cousins in Texas, and we visited them a couple times.”
His interest piqued. “Where in Texas? I lived near Houston for a few years.”
“Really? We were in Dallas. I also was in New York City for a business trip a while ago.” She brushed her hair behind her ears, raised her eyebrows in question. “According to Renate, you and Sherk are old friends of Ewald’s family?”
Jack had to remember the story. “Yeah, kind of shirttail relations of friends.”
She frowned. “Shirttail what?”
He gave a slight chuckle. “Oh, that means not real close relatives like parents and siblings, more like eighth cousins seven times removed, or something similar.” Jack expected his joke to prompt a laugh. Instead, Monika only looked confused.
After an awkward moment, she grinned. “Okay, I guess I still haven’t learned all the expressions of your language.”
“No worries.” Jack tried to look away but, damn, she was attractive. Her face had a subtle melancholy beauty, like her mother’s. He wished he could take her out for lunch, but figured that wouldn’t work. He’d have to drag Sherk along.
Just then, Sherk, who’d been engaged in conversation with Renate, turned to them. “Renate wants to see Ariana now, Jack. We can leave for the hotel after that.”
Monika stood and started toward the door, talking to Renate.
Jack held the journal on his lap. “I guess I’ll take this along?”
Sherk paused, lowered his voice. “Yeah, and then after Ariana’s, we’ll bid farewell and leave.”
Sherk gave Jack a sideways glance. Had Renate confided something else to him? What more could there possibly be to learn? With Monica in earshot, Jack kept quiet. He could use a score card for who spoke what language. He took the journal and followed the rest out the door.
Renate still seemed flustered as she led the way to Ariana’s unit, chatting with Monika.
“I hope Mutti’s having a good day,” Monika said, glancing backward at Jack. She adjusted the strap on her brown and black patterned bag. No doubt a designer purse. Jack wondered if her life was as manicured as her pale pink fingernails.
Chapter 30
When they reached Ariana’s apartment, Renate knocked softly on the door. A woman’s voice called, “Komm herein.”
Monika opened the door, and they all traipsed into the room behind her. A familiar rosewater fragrance floated from the room. Jack recognized the same nurse’s aide from several days ago, who bent close to Ariana, spoke to her in a child-like tone, and left the room. Renate bustled about, directing people where to sit.
Ariana sat perched on her bed, like a sparrow. Shiny silver hair framed her face. Jack thought of his father’s ‘peaches and cream’ comment in his journal. Wrinkles etched on her complexion failed to hide clear, smooth skin. Her doe-like eyes darted back and forth between Monika and Renate. Once again, she reminded Jack of an aging Ingrid Bergman.
Jack sat in a chair by the bed, placing the journal close to his side. He sat silently while the whole room chattered away, catching a word now and then he understood, like ‘Schröder, München, Haus’.
Monika sat by her mother, stroking her hands and speaking softly. Ariana seemed to recognize her daughter, smiling and nodding. Renate joined in the conversation in the same nervous-pitched voice.
Jack wondered what had happened to Renate’s calm, cheerful disposition, but since Monika understood English, he hesitated mentioning it Sherk.
Monika spoke to Renate, her words rising in question.
“Ach—” Renate went on chattering to Monika, who shrugged and looked at Jack. “I asked her why she seems nervous, but she insists everything’s fine.” She must’ve read Jack’s mind. They were already soul mates.
Renate turned to Sherk and spoke to him, clearing her throat now and then.
Sherk stood. “Jack, she wants me to step outside with her for a few minutes. She has questions about her husband’s Hahn relatives and wants to get our contact information before we leave.”
After Renate and Sherk left the room, Monika said, “I’m sure it’s confusing having people talking away in German non-stop.” She raised her eyebrows. “I wonder why Renate seems so high-strung today.”
Jack shrugged, and switched the journal by his other side, hoping Monika wouldn’t notice.
She sidled toward Jack’s chair, still holding her mother’s hand. “It’s been so hard to see her mind fade away,” she whisp
ered, as though out of respect for her mother’s long-lost sensibilities. “She seems a little worse every time I see her.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I had an uncle in Ireland who had Alzheimer’s, and it was tough to see.” He was amazed at how easily he could speak to Monika, like he’d known her for years.
“Yes, I figured you were Irish from your name. Have you been to Ireland?” She brushed imaginary lint from her pants.
Jack inwardly cringed, his thoughts flashing to twelve years ago. “Yeah.” He lowered his eyes.
Monika’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s okay. You didn’t pry, it was a bad time in my life, a long story.” He wouldn’t have minded telling her the story of Karen and Elizabeth, but now wasn’t the time. Having drinks in a quiet bar would be more suitable.
Monika nodded. “Yes, we all have stories, don’t we?” She turned to her mother, who began humming a tune vaguely familiar to Jack. “Ah, Mutti—” Monika continued speaking in German.
Something clicked in Jack’s brain. The humming melody sounded like a song Ariana mentioned in the journal. Might be his imagination, but damn, he couldn’t hint at anything. The journal was a secret. He clenched it tightly, in an automatic reflex.
“She used to sing that song a lot,” Monika glanced back at Jack. “She memorized all the words; it was popular during the war. She told me Bing Crosby sang it.”
Something tugged in Jack’s gut. “Yeah, it sounds a little familiar.”
Monika kept on talking about her mother and Renate’s closeness through the years, and her own life in Stuttgart, but she avoided personal subjects. No mention of a husband or kids, so—
“When do you go back to Chicago?” She shifted position on the bed.
Jack tried to read her body language, but no luck. Terrific. One more language he didn’t understand. “We leave in a few days, on Tuesday morning,” he replied.
Was Monika making polite conversation, or does she actually care?
“Oh, so soon?” She pouted, either mocking him or clearly disappointed. Jack chose the latter.
Before he could answer, the door opened and Renate and Sherk walked in, the usual German tongue filling the air. They both seemed anxious and ready to leave. Sherk brushed his hair from his forehead.
“We’ll be on our way now, Jack. Renate’s ready to go and give Monika some time alone with her mother.”
“Well, I guess, but—” Jack wondered why the hurry. He had been on the verge of inviting Monika for drinks later, assuming he’d get up the nerve.
Renate spoke to Ariana and gave her a quick hug.
Monika stood and straightened the collar of her silky blouse. “It was so nice meeting you two.” She shook Sherk’s hand, then Jack’s. He noted the warmth in her expression.
“Same here,” Jack said. Did she let her hand linger in his, or did he imagine it? “Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”
“I’d like that very much.” She let go of his hand, but, for a split second, not his eyes.
Sherk tried to drag him from the room, voicing their goodbyes. Jack glimpsed at Ariana, who looked at him, and hummed louder, with occasional words blended in. He followed Sherk’s lead and bent down close to her, whispering goodbye.
Ariana grasped Jack’s hand and stared at his face. “Die—die Drossel.” She moaned. “Die—die—” Her moaning persisted, mouth turned downward, eyes moistened.
Monika frowned. “Mutti, was meinst du—”
Sherk whispered to Jack that she asked Ariana what she meant by moaning about a bluebird.
Renate piped in and spoke to Monika. Again, Sherk told Jack that she claimed the groaning didn’t mean anything, and Ariana had said ‘bluebird’ before.
Renate tried to hustle the men towards the door, but Ariana’s grasp on Jack’s hand tightened. Monika gently pried it away.
She shrugged. “I wonder why she’s whining about a bluebird all of a sudden, except it was always her favorite.”
Jack’s brain clicked. Bluebird. Once again, he apparently triggered the memory.
Sherk said to Monika, “That’s the reason she mentioned it, then. Her favorite bird. Come on, Jack.” He turned. “Monika—” he spoke to her in German, and followed Renate out the door, Jack trailing behind, journal in hand. He turned toward Monika, reluctant, grappling for an excuse to stay one more minute, one more second. Probably making an ass of himself. The door swung closed behind him.
They reached Renate’s apartment, but only stayed a few minutes. She and Sherk spoke. She looked at the notebook in Jack’s hand.
“She wants you to keep it, Jack.” Sherk said. “She doesn’t plan to tell Monika about the affair with John. She insists it wouldn’t benefit her, and her promise to Ariana is a moot point, due to her mental state. I agree, not that my humble opinion matters.”
Jack sighed in relief. “Okay, great. Copies wouldn’t be the same as the real thing anyway.”
He took Renate’s hand and held it. “Thank you so much for everything.” Jack turned to Sherk. “She won’t understand me, so will you tell her how grateful I am that she told us her story and how it will help my brother and me understand our father.” He was turning into a nice guy.
“She knows, Jack.” He nodded to Renate. “Look at her.”
Jack turned to Renate, who beamed at him. “Leb wohl, bis wir uns wiedersehen.”
He returned her smile. “Auf Wiedersehen.” He leaned down and gave her a quick hug.
“Congratulations, my friend.” Sherk placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You’ve mastered the universal language of gratitude and farewell.”
She opened the door, and Jack sensed her watching as they walked down the corridor. His time with Renate was over.
Now all he had to do is figure out a way to see Monika again.
Chapter 31
“Seems this is my lucky day,” Jack said as he and Sherk drove to the hotel. “I get to keep the journal and I meet an interesting woman.”
Sherk didn’t answer, his eyes glued to the road.
“Everything okay?” Jack wondered if Sherk had bad news from Erica. Maybe she’d texted him earlier.
“Yeah, why?”
“You and Renate were acting like nervous cats. What gives?”
“Nothing.” Sherk looked straight ahead, jaw twitching.
Jack didn’t buy the comment, but he’d let it go. They drove in silence for several minutes. “Anyway, I enjoyed meeting Monika. Nice woman, and good looking too.”
“Yes, she’s very pleasant, but—” Sherk slowed down to turn into the parking lot of the Leonardo Hotel.
“But what?”
“Nothing.” Sherk parked the car and glanced out the window.
“You’re like a broken record. What’s on your mind?” Jack opened the door and stepped out.
“We’ll talk in the room,” Sherk said as they walked through circular front doors. “Then we’ll pack and take off.”
“Already?” He wanted to see Monika again. A quick drink before she left for Stuttgart?
“We need to get back to Munich.” They reached Sherk’s room. “Come on in.”
Jack sank down on the armchair by the TV. “I may be crazy, but I thought about talking to Monika again—”
Sherk sat on the bed. “Well, I’ll tell you, we need to—” He drew in a deep breath.
Jack’s eye twitched. “Yeah, right. But the first time in years I meet someone I want to see again, probably younger, but not by much, I can’t see—”
“Well, she
lives across the ocean from you, Jack.” Sherk’s mouth quivered at the sides.
“I’m aware of that.” Jack said, irritated. “What’s the big deal? Is she married? I never did find out.”
“It just isn’t a good idea. Ah, well, we must—” Frown lines appeared between his brows.
“Gotta tell ya, man, I’m losing what little patience I have. Why not tell me, ‘Gee, you finally meet a woman you like. Go ahead and see her again.’” Jack stood and walked to the window.
Sherk sighed. “Because it’s not a good idea—” He scratched his chin.
“You said that already. I got it the first time.” Jack’s blood pressure rose along with his voice. “Come on, spit it out. What’s your problem?” He started pacing.
“Okay, you can’t date Monika, Jack.”
“Why the hell not?” He almost shouted.
“Because—because—” He clenched his jaw.
“Come on, out with it, man. Because why?”
Sherk moved close to Jack and locked eyes with him.
“Because she’s your sister.”
Chapter 32
Jack stared back at Sherk. His fists clenched. “Huh?” He couldn’t register the words. Stunned, he squinted, shaking his head.
“Actually, she’s your half-sister, and I’ll tell you the story after you—”
“You’re fulla’ shit, man. That woman is younger than me, how did Pa—he left a year after the war, then Tommy—he never went back to Germany—” Jack’s blood drained from his face.
Sherk sighed. “Sit down, Jack, and take some deep breaths.” He reached for a mini whisky bottle on the cabinet. “Here, have a shot or two. Or a beer.”
Jack walked to the window and back. “Still it makes no sense, Monika is—” He swiped strands of hair off his temple.
“Actually, she’s a few months older than Tommy. She just looks younger, her skin—”