Forbidden Passion

by Ruth Gogoll

  Kim didn’t know what to say at first. She was surprised by Sonja’s suggestion. “Yes.” She looked at the clock. “It’s almost noon. I didn’t even realize that.”

  “Understandable. But I’m a creature of habit. I get hungry promptly at twelve o’clock.” Sonja laughed lightly.

  “I don’t get up as early as you do. But I’ll join you nonetheless.” Kim was still surprised at Sonja’s open approach. “I can’t be there for another half hour, though; I have to drive over from here first.”

  “I’ll meet you in front of the cafeteria.” Sonja hung up.

  Kim just sat there for a moment, feeling slightly overwhelmed. First the crisis with Rolf, and now Sonja in such a convivial mood – Kim was feeling thoroughly discombobulated.

  But she was glad. She felt her desire to see Sonja grow. There was a tingling . . .

  But we’ve gotten past that, haven’t we? an internal voice asked.

  You know she’s not expecting the same things you are, don’t you? She associates nothing with this invitation but lunch – and perhaps a good conversation.

  “I know.” Kim sighed. But still. She had missed Sonja, had gone without her beauty and presence for so long, that any encounter was a reason to celebrate.

  Sonja was waiting for her outside the cafeteria entrance. She smiled as Kim approached.

  “You look rested.” Indeed, Sonja looked miles better than she had yesterday. “Amazing, what a little sleep can accomplish . . .”

  “Oh, yes.” Sonja smiled even more. Kim didn’t know where she ought to look. That smile could drive her right over the edge. “I slept superbly in your apartment. It’s so calm and peaceful there.”

  Kim laughed. “When the neighbors’ children are in school! It can get pretty loud on the weekends.”

  “I probably wouldn’t even have noticed. I slept like a log.”

  “I’m glad.” Kim smiled. “That was the point, after all.”

  “Shall we go in?” Sonja went ahead toward the executive cafeteria, and Kim followed her. Kim didn’t typically eat there, because she spent her lunch break with the rest of her team. The rank-and-file cafeteria had to suffice for them.

  The executive lunchroom was a separate area that operated more like a restaurant, with table service by a waitress.

  They sat down at a table, and the waitress came over with a large bottle of water.

  “Thank you,” Sonja said. Obviously, that was her usual lunchtime beverage, and the waitress knew that. “What would you like to drink?” Sonja asked. “Water as the only beverage isn’t to every man’s taste.”

  Kim chuckled. “Or every woman’s either. At lunchtime, definitely something non-alcoholic. Otherwise we can forget about getting any work done in the afternoon.” She addressed the waitress: “Orange juice. Freshly squeezed, if possible.”

  “Of course.” The waitress disappeared.

  “Perhaps now I can finish thanking you.” Sonja smiled. “The way I wanted to this morning.”

  “Not necessary. It was nothing special.”

  “No, I think it was.” Sonja gave her a curious look. “Yes, indeed,” she added, reaffirming.

  Kim laughed rather stiffly. “You’re welcome back anytime.”

  Sonja looked at her anew, and there was something in her eyes that Kim couldn’t decipher. “I hardly think so,” she declined the invitation. “But yesterday . . . yesterday, I was very glad about it.”

  “That’s what Jo told me.” Kim laughed. “And I was very happy to hear that you were feeling much better in the afternoon than you were in the morning.”

  “Those jungle drums. Why do I even need to tell you anything? You already know it all.” Sonja looked rather wary.

  “Just that you were doing better in the afternoon,” Kim qualified quickly. “Jo didn’t tell my any more than that. She was very taken with you.”

  “I thought I wasn’t her type?”

  “Oh, why did I ever tell you that?” Kim groaned. “I shouldn’t have. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Sonja agreed. “It was pleasant for me, too, yesterday afternoon, not to feel like Ms. Mayrhofer hates me for once.”

  “She doesn’t hate you!” Kim looked appalled.

  “No?” Sonja arched her brows. “I had that impression.”

  “No, no.” Kim shook her head. “You’re her boss, and she wants her work to meet with your approval, that’s all. If you’re not happy, she’s not happy, either. That’s completely normal.”

  “Presumably.” Sonja stared out the window.

  “Your orange juice.” The waitress set a large glass in front of Kim.

  “Thanks.” Kim picked up the menu, a little leaflet printed by the in-house printer. “I’ll have the spaghetti.” The food in the executive lunchroom was no different than that available to the rest of the staff. It was just presented more appealingly and in more attractive surroundings.

  “The usual salad for you, Mrs. Kantner?” the server asked.

  “Yes.” Sonja nodded.

  “Ah, salad,” Kim said. “I never even thought of that. It’s not on the menu.”

  “There’s always salad,” Sonja said absently.

  “You’re much more health-conscious than I am.” Kim laughed.

  “If I ate what was on the menu, I’d probably have to buy some new clothes pretty soon.”

  “Oh, I’d say . . . a few more ounces . . . do you really think that would be so terrible?” This was not a good subject to be on. It made Kim start thinking about what she could do with those few ounces. She felt rather warm. “You’re really quite . . . slender.” She tried to keep her swallow unnoticeable.

  “Thank you. But that’s the hard work. And lately, I haven’t had much opportunity to eat in peace.”

  “The reorganization project?”

  “Yes.” Sonja stretched the word a little and looked at Kim. “It’s lots of work.”

  And your husband? Kim wanted to ask. Does he keep you from eating, too, perhaps? Obviously, Sonja’s answer had been incomplete. But it would be better to avoid any insinuations, as much as possible.

  The waitress returned with their lunch and set the plates down in front of them, as well as bottles of oil and vinegar for Sonja. Apparently, she didn’t like premade dressings.

  While Sonja poured her salad dressing, Kim observed her out of the corner of her eye. Why had Sonja invited her to lunch? Well, okay, less “invited” than taken along, but that wasn’t important. She must’ve had a reason.

  “And you think Rolf is going to get better soon?” Sonja asked suddenly.

  Aha, she was changing the subject. “I don’t know.” Kim shrugged. “I hope so. For his sake and for Margit’s. Of course, she’s deeply shaken. When you’ve been married for that long . . .”

  “Yes. It must be awful.” Sonja picked up a fork and started to eat.

  “I think a person gets very used to being with a partner over such a long time. It must be hard to imagine living without him.”

  “Probably.” Sonja’s attention stayed focused on her salad.

  Probably? Sonja had been married for a few years by now. Really, she ought to have experienced the same thing herself. Even if she and her husband weren’t getting along well now, at some point . . . at some point, they must’ve loved each other.

  Kim tried to make herself drop the subject. In any case, it wasn’t one she wanted to spend much time thinking about.

  “Margit is devastated,” Kim said, “and I’m sure Rolf would’ve been, too, if she had been the one to have the heart attack. Even if she’s not a very good cook.”

  “That’s not what matters,” Sonja mused. She seemed to be pondering something.

  “No, certainly not.” Kim laughed once more. “In that case, Rolf would’ve gotten a divorce long ago!”

  Sonja turned her head toward her. “A divorce isn’t always that easy.”

  “But not Rolf and Margit! They’re the couple of the century, if not the w
hole millennium. They still love each other, you can see it in everything they do, how they are with each other.”

  “Yes, they treat each other very lovingly.” Sonja’s voice sounded as if she were quoting a newspaper article. Stating a fact that had nothing to do with her whatsoever.

  “People should always treat each other like that,” Kim said. “Those two are excellent role models.”

  “What if he dies?” Sonja asked abruptly. “What will she do then?”

  “That would be terrible!” At this thought Kim got a heavy feeling in her stomach. How must Margit feel?

  “Yes, that would be terrible,” Sonja repeated. “To live with one person for so long, who suddenly isn’t there anymore – Margit’s whole life is built around Rolf. And all at once to be alone. Old and alone. How can she adapt? How could she get used to that? She’s too old to start fresh at anything. The best part of her life is behind her.”

  “Sonja!” Kim stared at her, aghast. “You’re predicting Rolf’s death?”

  “Oh, no.” Sonja appeared to wake from a dream. “No.” She laid her fork aside. “Nothing is farther from my mind. I hope he gets well again. And that he lives a long, long time. Together with Margit.”

  “Yes.” Kim took a breath. Sonja had described the scenario after Rolf’s death so realistically; it felt like it had already happened.

  “I’m sorry,” Sonja said. “I guess I’m not quite up to snuff yet. A few hours of sleep weren’t enough, after all.”

  “Couldn’t you sleep last night? Sleep disturbances can be awful. I’m glad that I don’t have that problem.”

  “Sleep disturbances . . . Yes, awful. It’s hard to catch up.”

  “Have you seen a doctor about it?” Kim asked. “Isn’t there anything that will help?”

  “A doctor?” Sonja looked at her as though that were a completely absurd idea.

  “Well, you know, when it persists like this . . . There must be a reason for it.”

  “A reason.” Sonja looked out the window again. Then she turned her gaze back to Kim. “Yes, there must be a reason.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to grill you,” Kim said. “Am I getting too personal? I mean, sleep disturbances . . . lots of people suffer from those. There are plenty of ways and means –”

  “Of course,” Sonja interrupted her. “There are ways and means of remedying sleep disturbances. You’re quite right. You weren’t getting too personal. I’m just . . . well, like I said, not quite up to snuff.”

  “I have some vitamins in my office. Do you want to try that?”

  Sonja’s lips curled into a semblance of a smile. “No, thanks.” She waved to the waitress. “My coffee, please.”

  The waitress nodded and looked inquiringly at Kim.

  “Yes, me too, please.” When the waitress had gone, Kim went on. “I read in the company newsletter that the reorganization project is supposed to be finished soon. I’m sure you’ll have some quiet again after that’s over.”

  “If they don’t find something else for me to do.” Sonja looked at Kim with her head tilted. “And if a certain colleague hadn’t made suggestions that just set the whole thing on its ear.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It was just a spontaneous idea. You don’t have to incorporate it.”

  “Yes, I do. It’s too good. I’m annoyed with myself for not coming up with it first.”

  “You were probably just too tired.” Kim smiled. “I can’t think in that state, either.”

  “Yes, I was probably just too tired,” Sonja confirmed. But it sounded like she didn’t really believe it.

  “Sonja, I –” Kim gazed up at the ceiling, then started over. “Sonja, I . . . I’m so glad that we can talk to each other again.”

  The coffee arrived.

  Sonja didn’t answer, but waited until the waitress had left. She dropped two tablets of sweetener into her coffee and stirred them around.

  “If you . . . if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand,” Kim said, abashed. “I accept it. It’s just . . . I wanted to tell you that.”

  Sonja wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, peering into the cup as though she sought an answer there. Then she raised her head. “When I said yesterday that I’m familiar with the situation, I meant exactly that. It’s not the first time that . . .” she hesitated, “. . . someone,” she continued, “believed he had a claim on me because of . . .” she hesitated again, “. . . an indulgence I had granted him. But one thing has nothing to do with the other. I believe I’ve made that clear already.”

  Kim looked at her, and she wished so dearly to be able to touch her, if only to show Sonja that she didn’t need to worry about Kim or be afraid of her. That she could trust her. “You have. I accept it. But unfortunately, it doesn’t change anything about my feelings for you, and I also have to come to terms with that. But I won’t burden you anymore, you can count on that. I’ll never mention it again.”

  Sonja silently considered Kim’s face. “Can you do that? Come to terms with it?” she asked after a while.

  Kim almost had to laugh. “Oh, lesbians are used to having to come to terms with our feelings for straight women. That’s a situation that I’m familiar with.”

  “Is that so.” Sonja leaned back as though she were astonished. “Does it happen so often?”

  “The ratio is nine to one. I think that says it all.”

  “I never thought about it that way. That means that almost every woman you fall in love with is . . . well, like me?”

  Now Kim really had to laugh. “No. It’s not quite that bad. Most of the women I get to know well are lesbians. And by the way –” she leaned in closer, “not one of them so far has been like you.”

  “Kim, please . . .” Sonja made a face. “What did you just promise me?”

  “Something else,” Kim said. “You’re unique. I’m sure I can still say that.”

  “Ow.” Again, Sonja grimaced. “Can’t you . . . cut back a little on that, on that sort of comment? I really can’t deal with that, and . . . well, we were going to –”

  “All right. You needn’t be afraid. That was the last time I’ll say something like that. Now you know.” Kim smiled crookedly.

  Sonja frowned. “What I don’t know is whether I’m up to it. I thought I – the situation was simply untenable. I didn’t want that.”

  “Neither did I,” Kim said gently. “Now it’s much better.” She laughed. “We should eat together more often!”

  “We can,” Sonja said, completely unexpectedly. “When I’m in the building at lunchtime, I have no objection.”

  Kim looked at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Why not?” Sonja shrugged. “I hate talking about work during lunch. These are the only few minutes of the day I have for myself. That’s why I don’t like to eat with colleagues – they usually can’t talk about anything but work.” She smiled. “Except for Rolf. He was always different. A family man.”

  Kim sighed. “I think the fact that he and Margit don’t have any children was a great sadness to them. They always wanted some.”

  “Yes.” Sonja’s expression hardened. She glanced at the clock. “I have to get back. Do you want to meet at the same time tomorrow, outside the cafeteria?” She stood up to leave.

  Even though Sonja had said she’d be happy to have lunch with Kim again, Kim was still very much taken by surprise. She just sat there. “Sure. If you want.”

  “See you tomorrow, then.” Sonja turned around, and a moment later she was out of sight.

  Kim shook her head. Sonja’s departure felt like a cold shower that tingled pleasantly at the same time. She made promises – perhaps these, too, were only promises Kim imagined – that were hedged with stinging prickles. The prickles, on the other hand, appeared so soft, so silky, that they made a person want to pet them.

  If I do that, will I get stabbed? Kim wondered. Or will she retract those stingers?

  In the ensuing days Kim and Sonja saw ea
ch other every day, usually for lunch. It became a regular habit.

  Work was a taboo subject between them, as was everything that had happened in the hotel, but they found a number of other subjects they could talk about. Music, literature, movies, and even food. And of course, Rolf’s convalescence, which was proceeding slowly, but positively.

  “I’m so glad that he can stand up again now,” Kim said. “A couple of days ago, I couldn’t imagine it.”

  “I saw him yesterday afternoon,” Sonja replied. “He really looks good. He’s already telling jokes again.”

  “Then we must’ve just missed each other when we were there,” Kim marveled. “If you’d said something, we could’ve gone together.”

  “I was just in the neighborhood. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

  Spur-of-the-moment? Sonja? Hadn’t she denied that categorically? “Hmm,” Kim said. “Margit is still very worried. Did you see her?”

  “Yes. She’s at the hospital practically all day.”

  “Rolf’s heart attack was such a huge shock, and all this convalescence . . . She won’t get over it quickly, even though he’s doing so much better.”

  “Well, he’ll have to watch out.” Sonja grinned. “Margit announced she’s going to bake him a cake soon.”

  Kim had to laugh. “Good grief! That’d be grounds for a second heart attack.”

  “Hopefully not.” But Sonja smiled, too. Neither of them meant it seriously.

  “Well, maybe his heart attack did have its good side,” Kim said. “Rolf has been spared Margit’s cooking for several days.”

  “That’s a harsh cure. Just to avoid eating her cooking.”

  “Her cooking is gruesome.” Kim made a face. “I don’t know what she puts in there.”

  “I do. Concrete and a ton of sugar.”

  Kim laughed again. “That describes it perfectly!”

  Sonja poked at her salad. “I finished the new concept for the project.”

  Kim looked up. Talking about work? Wasn’t that taboo?

  “I was wondering –” She looked up, then back at her salad, took a little dressing, and stirred it into the lettuce. “I was wondering if I might be able to requisition you as a collaborator on the project. Not full time. Just as much as you can fit in alongside your other work. You have to fill in for Rolf now, after all.”