Twist of Fate

by Faver, JD

  “No need for thanks, Helmut.” Sunny shrugged. “You’ve always come through for me.”

  “Where are the students? Why are they not here?”

  “Neither one could come tonight. There’s a big game and both boys are athletes. You remember that, don’t you Helmut?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I remember.”

  How well he remembered his days as a football player when he had been intimately involved with a succession of cheerleaders, Sunny among them.

  “So, you came here to milk my cows for me?”

  Sunny flashed a wide smile, suddenly looking less like the hard-working dairy farmer and more like the carefree cheerleader she’d once been. “Who else? Somebody had to do it.”

  He tried to swallow the huge lump in his throat. When he spoke, his voice sounded rough and gritty. “Thank you for your help. I will milk my own cows tonight.”

  Sunny let out another indelicate snort. “You look like hell. Come on. I’ll help you and we’ll get done faster.”

  Helmut stared down at her solemnly and then nodded. “Let me get a shirt on. I will meet you in the barn.”

  Sunny turned toward the outbuilding with Helmut watching her departure. He felt somewhat guilty when he was with Sunny. Guilty for having slept with her as a teen-ager. Guilty for not being able to love her. Guilty for feeling guilty.

  He pulled on a faded cotton shirt and managed to shove a couple of the buttons through the buttonholes as he trudged to the barn. He hoped that getting back into the familiar routine might sooth the pain in his chest. That it might help him forget the woman who had so unexpectedly appeared in his life and who had so irreparably turned it upside down.

  The well-known odors assailed his nostrils as he entered the barn. The smell of hay and animals wrapped around him like a blanket, but he drew no comfort from it.

  He felt alone. Totally alone and he had only himself to blame for it.

  Sunny was sterilizing the milking equipment so he stepped out to lead the first of his beloved Guernsey’s into the milking station.

  With Sunny helping, the task didn’t so much go faster as it went smoother. The same number of cows took the same amount of time to milk, but with Sunny assisting him, the cows were milked and penned up safely for the night.

  He considered that, had he married Sunny, they would probably have been doing this very chore together for a number of years.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Even for the sake of convenience and friendship, he couldn’t consider marriage without the feelings he felt for Mel. The deep and powerful love was a requisite, no matter how one-sided it might be.

  When Sunny climbed in her truck and drove away, Helmut felt relieved. He wanted to be alone to grieve for the love he’d thrown away. He needed privacy to examine his feelings and ask himself why he’d been such a fool. Most of all, he didn’t want anyone to bear witness to his mourning.

  #

  Two days later, Mel arrived back in the city.

  The ordeal of explaining to Alain that Helmut had bailed on her had been surprisingly easy. She’d expected him to fly into a rage over the departure of his star, but Alain amazed her by turning his sympathetic gaze on her and holding out his arms. “Ah, mon petit. I am so sorry for your pain. Alain is here for you.”

  Mel was also surprised that she could draw comfort from her former lover. He seemed to think that Helmut’s leaving meant that she would return to him and their previous relationship would reignite.

  That would never happen.

  The only thing she wanted was for this shoot to be over and done with and to be back in New York City where she could crawl into her bed and cry without an audience.

  She’d had to bear the scrutiny of the crew. Layla didn’t even try to hide her amusement, but the others appeared to be genuinely sorry to learn of Helmut’s exodus.

  Mel slogged her way through the rest of the shoot and when the taxi delivered her to her apartment building, she could hardly wait to lock herself inside her home.

  She checked her answering machine, but found no messages from Helmut. That, in itself, made her even sadder.

  After she walked to the corner drugstore and returned with the pregnancy test that confirmed her worst fears, she went catatonic. She lay on top of her comforter and stared at the ceiling.

  A baby? How could Mel Hannigan, successful commercial photographer and independent career girl function as a mother?

  She imagined herself at nine months pregnant, waddling around with a camera, trying to maintain her professional image and produce quality photographs for her clients. She saw herself with a baby on her hip, and spit-up on her shoulder, trying to make it to a location with a diaper bag slung over her shoulder.

  She cast back in her mind to see if she had ever envisioned a future in which motherhood had a place. Sadly, she shook her head.

  And what of Helmut?

  How would she tell him? Should she tell him? Would he care? Yes, undoubtedly he would care, but she couldn’t gage his reaction. Since he seemed to consider her a complete slut, this might color his feelings about fathering a child with her.

  She reached for the phone and then drew her hand back. This wasn’t the kind of thing she could tell him over the phone. She would have to face him. Tomorrow, she would drive up to give him the news. Today, she would sleep, alone in her bed...and cry.

  #

  Helmut poured a second cup of coffee. He’d finished his morning chores and sat at his kitchen table trying to remember what his life had been like before Mel.

  He regarded his new kitchen. It was gleaming with high-end appliances and a polished granite countertop. He was certain that Mel would have loved it.

  The sadness in his chest was so heavy it felt like concrete. It weighed him down, slowed his movement, dulled his senses.

  It was all about trust. A man should be able to trust the woman he was in love with.

  He tried to isolate the specific thing that made him so angry. It was simply that she had not told him about her relationship with Alain; that they had been lovers. That they might still be lovers. It made him feel that the two of them had conspired against him.

  Had it been so important for her to take his pictures for Alain that she would seduce him to accomplish her goals? Had Alain and Mel laughed while Helmut followed her around like a puppy dog? Did everyone know except him?

  Helmut got up from the table and went into his newly added master bedroom suite. A clutch of pain in his chest caused him to quickly pass through to the bathroom with the spa tub and glassed in shower. He touched the make-up mirror at the counter with the upholstered bench he had ordered to please Mel.

  He hadn’t been able to sleep in his plush Master suite since his return from Mexico. He had continued to sleep in his old room, haunted by dreams of Mel nestled against him. The rooms that could be used for children...He felt his back teeth grind together.

  He had been a complete fool to ever imagine that he could change her. She had never intended to be his wife and he couldn’t see her wanting to have children. His children.

  He swallowed hard.

  Mel had never represented herself as being anything else but a city girl. That was where she belonged. The opera and ballet and art openings; that was her milieu. And he belonged here on his farm, where he knew what to expect from the land, from the four seasons, from the people in his world.

  And now he was a country man with a remodeled house he didn’t need. Every time he looked at the changes, his sadness increased.

  He gathered a few things together and threw them in a bag. Tonight, after milking he would go to the old cabin on the mountain where his grandfather had taken him hunting. He should be able to get a good night’s sleep in a place where Mel Hannigan had never made memories with him.

  #

  Mel was nervous when she climbed into her car. She had always felt joy and great anticipation when heading up to see Helmut. This time she was filled with dread. She w
anted to see him, but hoped his anger had cooled. The wounded rage reflected in his eyes had made her feel guilty.

  There was no way she could justify her actions, but she never intended to hurt him. Never thought that her past would come creeping up to sabotage their relationship. But somehow, she’d known that he would care; that he wouldn’t want her to associate with a former lover. It was a sin of omission.

  She hoped he would see her. She really needed to feel his arms around her and his lips on hers.

  Taking a deep breath, she started the motor and listened to it purr. The Boxter was consistent. Even if nothing else in her life worked, this vehicle was a symphony of precision-built machinery.

  Escaping the city usually made her heart feel light with anticipation, but this time, her stomach was tied in a knot of fear. Fear of rejection was uppermost on her list. She pictured Helmut as she had last seen him, hurt and disappointment etched on his face and finally anger.

  Would he send her away? Would he disbelieve her? She couldn’t anticipate his reaction.

  They were poles apart. She couldn’t guess how he would react to a given situation, particularly one as difficult as this one.

  “Hi Helmut,” she said aloud. “I know you broke up with me because you think I’m a total slut, but I happen to be carrying your child.” She sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek. “And, by the way, I love you.”

  Mel broke free of city traffic, completely oblivious to the beautiful scenic countryside rolling by. She replayed scenes in her head in which Helmut professed his love.

  Could he forget about loving her in so few days? Would he forgive her for not telling him about her history with Alain? Mel shook her head. Perhaps it wasn’t about Alain at all. Maybe he’d dumped her for some other reason. Something she didn’t know about.

  She stopped to fill her gas tank and use the rest room. She’d heard that pregnant women had tiny bladders but wasn’t sure why. Maybe she was just nervous about facing Helmut. She climbed back into the car and resumed her trip.

  Nothing she could do would change the outcome. It was all up to Helmut. He would decide if they had a future together and if he wanted to be a father to her child. If he turned his back on her, she would survive. There were plenty of single mothers out there. Single mothers with careers. She could figure it out.

  It was late afternoon by the time she turned onto Helmut’s property. She was in a crazed state. Her gut snarled in panic, her heart pulsing against her ribs. What would she say? What would he do when he saw her?

  Mel turned the steering wheel and rolled to a stop in front of his house. She didn’t see Helmut, but the dog came out to greet her. Sitting in the car, she tried to control her trembling hands as she reached for the door handle.

  Please love me.

  She walked slowly to the house and stepped up onto the wooden porch. Her footsteps sounded like hammer blows to her own ears. If Helmut was inside, she had already announced herself. Standing outside his door, she raised her fist and knocked. The sound reverberated inside.

  Cautiously, she twisted the knob and the door opened.

  “Hello?” she called. “Helmut, it’s Mel.” She chastised herself for her inane greeting. The door swung back to reveal the entire front room. Mel sucked in a breath as she viewed the major changes to the interior. At one end of the long space, a neat living room with upholstered furniture had been arranged. The heavy wood dining furniture in the middle and the kitchen on the opposite end. She stepped inside the house, drawn to the kitchen. A free-standing black granite bar separated the kitchen from the dining room. Sleek black appliances took the place of the pump and wood stove.

  She tried to swallow the tears gathered in her throat. He did this for me. Oh, my God! He did this for me.

  “Helmut!” she called out shakily. No response.

  Mel checked out the bedrooms and found them the same as before, but two new doors off the living room opened into a new addition. There was a half bath with all the modern conveniences and another bedroom, larger than the others with a bathroom and huge closet.

  Tears spilled over as she gazed about her. He had done this for her. He had brought her world into his so she would be more comfortable.

  The dressing table with a lighted make-up mirror was the last straw. Mel collapsed on the velvet covered bench and gave in to the tears that had been crowding her.

  How could she have lost such a wonderful man? It had taken her being totally selfish, trying to cram him into her world and smother him with her acquaintances. He’d finally had enough and returned to the place where he belonged. No amount of pressure could shape Helmut Engle into the sleek metro-man her photographs made him out to be. He was his own man...and he had been hers until she managed to drive him away.

  “Helmut!” she gasped. She had to find him, to tell him how sorry she was and to beg his forgiveness.

  Mel rose from the bench and made her way outside. She strode to the barn. He must be inside the barn. The dog fell into step beside her.

  The barn was dark after walking in the bright sunlight and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The two white horses were in their stalls. The milking barn was empty, shining and immaculate. Both his tractor and his truck were in place. She gazed out over the fields but didn’t see any sign of Helmut.

  Where could he be?

  She walked back to the porch and sank into one of the wooden rockers to wait. He has to return to me. He can’t be gone.

  #

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Helmut lit the oil lamp and set it on the rustic table. It smelled dank and musty inside the cabin. He opened the windows to air it out before dark.

  He knew this was a brief respite. Early in the morning, he’d go back down the mountain to milk his cows. But for the moment, he only wanted to sleep in a bed he hadn’t shared, or hoped to share forever, with Mel Hannigan. He’d brought fresh bedding and food and coffee for the morning.

  He cleared off the table and arranged his supplies beside the oil lamp.

  He went out onto the porch and sat in one of the sturdy wooden chairs crafted by his grandfather. He’d gathered a stack of firewood the last time he’d been here, before he’d first met Mel.

  He frowned.

  Why did everything come back to Mel? Did his entire life start the moment he met her?

  Helmut winced as a stab of pain sliced through his chest. He acknowledged that Mel had jump-started his life. She had thrust herself into his orderly existence and upset his carefully choreographed routine. She’d brought him both joy and pain. Wanting her had become his entire focus but now they were apart.

  His fault.

  If he’d been a worldlier, more broad-minded man he might have been able to interact with the man who had preceded him as her lover. He might have been able to accept that the affair had been meaningless, as she claimed. He might have been able to carry on with the elaborate charade, pretending he could become what she wanted him to be.

  He groaned, the sound unwillingly wrenched from his throat. The painful truth was that she didn’t want him the way he was. She wanted him to be different and he could no longer pretend to be someone else. He was his own man.

  She wanted him to wear city clothes and accompany her to parties and bars. She wanted him to dance and listen to mindless drivel for hours on end. She did not want Helmut as he was. She wanted Helmut, revised.

  He massaged the back of his neck. He found it ironic that quite a few women had wanted him just the way he was, but the one woman he wanted, the one he could actually envision a future with, that woman wanted to change him into an unrecognizable version of himself.

  She’d chosen his clothes and told him how to wear his hair. She’d plastered his photographs all over the world. Helmut was an internationally famous model, and for what?

  His bank account had never been so flush, but after remodeling the house, he had no need for additional funds.

  He was a farmer. He made a good living as a farme
r. He had no need to smile for the camera, even if the person taking the pictures was the woman he loved.

  He was startled out of his introspection when a wolf howled nearby. A lonely, mournful sound, it resonated on the still air. It echoed his emotions. He’d allowed the wolves to roam free on the mountain, as long as they didn’t come down to feed on the livestock. He respected nature and knew that the wolves had their place in the overall scheme of things.

  Some of his fellow farmers would shoot them on sight, but he had adapted a live-and-let-live philosophy. Another wolf joined in and howled in a slightly different voice. Their intermingled wails sent a chill down his spine. Loneliness washed over him like the waves on the Mexican beach.

  He shoved out of the chair and gathered an armload of logs to build a fire in the fireplace. It would be dark soon and cold when the sun set behind the mountain.

  #

  Mel rocked in the high backed wooden rocker on Helmut’s porch. With every passing moment, her alarm grew.

  Where is Helmut? Why isn’t he here?

  She entertained a brief fantasy that he might have gone into the city to make up with her, but quickly dismissed that thought because his truck was parked in its space. Even if he’d taken the train, he would have driven the truck to the station.

  She sighed aloud and the dog laid his head on her knee. She stroked his head and had to smile in spite of her misery when he licked her arm with his warm, velvety tongue.

  “Thanks, I needed that.”

  The sound of an approaching motor stirred her heart. She held her breath and forced herself to remain seated, not wanting to appear too desperate when Helmut first saw her.

  But the white pick-up truck turning into the drive was not driven by Helmut. The blonde woman behind the wheel regarded her with anything but warmth. Sunny Van Ness parked and alit from her truck.

  “Haven’t seen you around for a while,” she said.

  Mel took a shaky breath. “I haven’t been here for a while.”

  Sunny looked around expectantly. “Where’s Helmut?”