by JL Brooks
“Tell me to stop, Violet, and I will.” His husky voice was low and quiet, barely a whisper in my ear.
I could hear myself cracking as his name came out. “Shepard.” Stopping to look down at me, wild and full of passion, he began to retreat when he saw my face, almost looking ashamed. “Please stop.”
His hands released me and he rolled to the side flat on his back, breathing out deeply. He was hitting his breaking point, too. I could see the tendons in his neck and jaws tighten as he clenched his teeth, staring at the ceiling. I had to diffuse him, and I only knew one way how. “Shepard, wait.” I was asking him to do something that was killing me. Threading my fingers through his chocolate hued hair, I crashed my lips down over his and inhaled hard, stealing the breath from his lungs.
It’s just a kiss, just one kiss. I can give him this, it won’t ruin anything.
I was terrible at lying to myself. I was sinking quickly and I knew it. Just as his tongue set out to devour every part of me, a quiet knock came at the door.
Her voice was soft, as if she knew what was transpiring behind the closed doors. “Violet, it’s time to eat.”
Despite Shepard’s obvious irritation at the interruption, her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. “We’ll be right down!” I smiled at the frustrated man trapped between my thighs and shrugged my shoulders. Leaning down gently, I placed a soft kiss on his lips, coaxing him out of his suddenly bad mood. “It’s not that I don’t want to; I just can’t. I won’t be able to survive another heartbreak…what’s left is barely holding together.”
Moving off to the side, I knelt one last time to kiss him deeply. His hand reached up and caressed the side of my face in understanding. This would have to be enough for now.
He rolled over and reached out his arm for me to pull him off the floor. Once standing, he laced his fingers through mine and brought my hand to his lips. I turned his hand to kiss the palm and held it to my chest. “I’m trying to listen, okay?”
He nodded his head and opened the door to walk behind me. Once downstairs, my aunt and uncle both smiled deliberately, yet didn’t say a word about it. Instead, they proceeded to grill Shepard about what he did, how we knew each other, and his favorite soccer team. They had prepared small dishes full of ingredients to cook in a small oven-like device with little cast iron trays.
“What is this?” I held the trays curiously and likened it to a child’s play oven.
Hannalore started to load a tray with small finger potatoes, peppers and a slice of cheese, and then placed it into one of the slots as a demonstration.
“It’s called raclette; it’s Swiss. You put the food onto here and cook for, I dunno, three, four minutes. It cooks fast.” Her English always impressed me for being her second language. She explained that most German children learn English in school, yet in some areas, it is not as important. Talking to me gave her the chance to use it more. I could tell Shepard was confused as he listened to them conversing. Finally, it must have bothered him enough to address it.
“Wait, you’re German? How is she your aunt? I mean, you look dead on like each other, but I don’t understand, though.” As he looked back between us both, Hannalore turned towards me.
“You didn’t tell him?”
It honestly had slipped my mind; I didn’t really think about it. It was a huge deal for me to be here, but sharing it with Shepard was an afterthought. Shaking my head back and forth, I picked up my wine glass and took a sip before starting.
“My grandfather was stationed here right after World War II. They told the soldiers not to embark on relationships with the German women, because they would not acknowledge their children. They were occupational children. My grandpa found out later that his German girlfriend was pregnant after he received orders to return home, but she gave Hannalore up for adoption. When he did find out, he had already met and married my grandmother. They petitioned the German government and were granted custody. By then she was already four years old. They didn’t warn the adoptive mother that they were coming to get her; they just showed up. The woman had a heart attack, and my grandmother refused to take her. My grandpa was furious, but this was her home. These people had raised her from the day she was born, and in a moment, she would have been gone. My grandma didn’t want to leave her, but she felt it was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, she didn’t know she was adopted until she was fourteen. It was only ten years ago she found her father, and now he’s gone.”
My aunt had started to tear up and held my hand as I told Shepard the story. While she dabbed her eyes, she looked to him and grinned widely.
“And Violet is the first to come here to see me. She sends me pictures and calls me on the phone; it is nice. I go to America many times, but no one comes here. I am very happy right now.”
I cannot help but hold her as we weep into each other’s arms. This brilliant woman who I was a nearly identical to had lived an entire life time as a stranger. I couldn’t imagine knowing what it was like to never know who you were. My presence gave her something over fifty years of longing could not replace.
My eyes caught sight of the long curly hazel branch suspended above the dining room table. I noticed she had small ornaments hanging off of it with fishing line. I turned to Shepard who immediately knew what I was thinking and nodded in approval. Running up to the room, I pulled the small white box from the suitcase and came back down.
“It’s from both of us.” I winked at Shepard and watched her gingerly open the package. Unfolding the tissue paper to reveal the fragile wooden angel, she brought her hand to her mouth and held it up for Joachim to see it. She smiled as she hung the ornament from the branch and leaned over to hug each of us.
Shepard kissed the top of my head and excused himself to sleep, knowing that my aunt and I would be awake for many more hours, catching up before we had to leave the next day. Once I was sure that he was fast asleep, I settled into a chair by the small fireplace with stacks of photo albums and a few bottles of wine.
After pulling the cork from the second bottle, she set her glass down and looked me square in the eyes. It was eerily like looking into a trick mirror at a carnival. Her head cocked to one side, idly flipping through the albums with me.
“Now what is it that we need to discuss, Violet?”
Chapter 36 - Can You Hear Me Now?
I was unsure how late it was when I finally crawled into bed. Shepard had a small night light on, anticipating I would be too intoxicated to find the bed in the dark. I knew I wasn’t being quiet, because I kept telling myself to stop giggling. I swore at one point, I told Shepard to shut up and go back to sleep, but I can’t be for sure. I remember watching him sleep for a while – how his face twitched while he dreamed, and how wonderful his perfect skin smelled. I was sure if he were to wake and catch me with my face in his elbow, he would think I really did lose it.
Within my wine induced bubble, I pushed as far as I could without waking him. The day old growth along his chin tickled my nose as I held my breath to drag it down his neck. My fingers raked delicately, back and forth inside his forearm, drawing out goose pimples. Finally, I could no longer stand it and lightly kissed along the dark trail beneath his navel, leading into his black trunks. If I didn’t stop now, I never would. Crawling back up to my side of the bed, I rolled to my side and closed my eyes. Just before I went to sleep, I felt Shepard reach over and pull me snugly against his chest and breathing out a sigh.
I awoke the next morning, still secure in Shepard’s vice grip embrace. I must have let him hold me all night, which kind of frightened me. Even if I was drunk, I normally never slept well with anything touching me, much less someone else. I felt his erection pressing into my back, so I decided to be a little naughty and innocently wiggled against him.
Tightening his grip even more, he murmured into my ear, “If you’re not going to finish what you start, you are not allowed to do that.” Quickly flipping me over, he used his knee to open my legs and pressed his hi
ps deeply, instantly making me hot. As he twisted side to side a little, he began to chuckle, “It’s not nice, is it?”
Rolling off the bed and leaving me flustered, he walked away into the bathroom, whistling. Getting dressed quickly, I tied my hair into a knot and held up the stragglers with my sunglasses. My aunt and uncle were already awake with a light breakfast on the table and fresh coffee made. Shepard strolled down the stairs, looking cheerful and mischievous. He walked over to the fire place and picked up a piece of a log from the small pile.
“Hey, I noticed you have a lot of wood still. Was the winter not that bad here?”
He then looked to me and winked where I mouthed back, “I am going to kill you.”
Coming up behind me, he leaned down and whispered into my ear, “Not if I kill you first.”
The stab in my chest momentarily took my breath away, but I shook it off. Our interactions had become nearly effortless, as if we had never been apart. I could tell by the way he was treated here that my aunt adored him. As we were saying our good-byes, she hugged Shepard once again and told him he needed to convince me to stay – that she would like having family close by. Smiling, he hugged my shoulder and said, “I’m trying.”
Without hesitation, she looked at him point blank and told him, “Try harder.”
Both of us allowed the tears to flow freely at the short time we were given. Even being here for only a day, I could see myself coming over often for coffee, or having them over to Ingrid’s for dinner someday. Shaking my head once again, the thoughts were not allowed room to grow today. As Shepard was starting the car, I had the sudden urge to drive and focus my mind on something else. I had nothing to lose by asking, so I did.
“May I take the wheel for a little while?”
He looked at me briefly as though I had three heads, and then turned the ignition off. Letting out an exaggerated breath, he held the door handle for a moment before opening it and stepping out. I hopped in the driver’s seat and began adjusting the mirrors and seat to be more comfortable. I suddenly felt like a teenager as he began to explain things to me.
“Okay, Violet, this is a Maserati MC Gran Tourismo, not a Honda. This car tops out at three hundred kilometers per hour. It goes from zero to sixty in four point eight seconds flat. You have to be careful.”
I smiled and played innocent, knowing full well what this car was capable of. I had never driven anything as nice as this, yet when I was younger, Connor used to drive his dad’s BMW M3, and he would let me speed along I-25 after parties. I followed his directions and drove exactly the speed limit until we reached the Autobahn. The moment I saw the sign indicating there were no restrictions on that portion of the road, I hit the gas and began to weave around the slower cars.
“Damn, Violet, slow down!” His hand was gripping the dashboard while I drove, laughing recklessly.
“Simmer down, don’t you trust me?” Keeping my eyes focused on the road, I could feel his eyes boring into me, yet he didn’t say a word. Leaning back, he watched as I maneuvered through traffic with precision. I knew he had had enough, so I pulled off at an exit and handed him the keys before going to the bathroom. By the time we reached Interlaken, I could feel the fight between us brewing even stronger. It was temporarily subdued after arriving at the base of the Alps in Lauterbrunnen.
The hills on the way in were dotted with cows and small farms. A large train station greeted us as we first entered the small town before pulling off to the left into our hotel. The side of the large yellow building with red shutters read Hotel Staubbach. Dark wood paneling and floors lined the reception area and led to the dining area and commons room. They gave us one of the heavy, old-style, metal skeleton keys for our room. After dropping off our luggage, we peeked around and walked by a small ice maker and tea stand.
“I bet you did this on purpose!” I slapped the side of his arm after “casually” passing by the refreshment table.
“What? I thought you would be thrilled with an ice machine, one of those American luxuries people take for granted.” He opened the small lid and popped one of the cubes in his mouth, smiling.
I slapped him again, making the cube fall out of his mouth and onto the floor. “You are so full of it, but you’re lucky because I do like this place.”
Bending over into mock bow, he swept his arm across the expanse of the room, “I’m glad princess approves of her sleeping quarters for the night. Heaven forbid it be some place beneath her standards.”
I gave him a scornful look and walked outside to look at the waterfalls in more detail. The sky was crystal blue without a cloud marring the view. Majestic snow covered mountains peeked through the valley opening, so grand that it appeared fake. Everything looked so perfect. Distracted by the beauty, I was startled when Shepard came up behind me and whispered in my ear, “I’m glad you like it, I hoped you would.” Wrapping his arms around my waist, he rested his chin on my shoulder, looking at the view with me.
“I do, thank you.” I nuzzled a little against his cheeks in appreciation.
“Good, because you haven’t seen anything, yet!” His arm tugged me towards the car and we drove a short distance away to a large parking lot.
Light shone brilliantly in his eyes. He couldn’t contain how excited he was – similar to how I felt in Ettal. He pulled our coats from the trunk and a few bottles of water, then led me to a ticket booth where he chose two passes to the Piz Gloria. Movie advertisements were everywhere, indicating a portion was filmed at the top where we were headed. As we waited in line to board the tram, Shepard opened one of the small brochures and talked a little about each of the stops. We would first go to the small town of Gimmelwald, and then Murren, before traveling all the way up to the top of the Schilthorn Peak where the Piz Gloria was.
As we slowly ascended the mountain, the larger peaks came into better view. “Oh my God, this is indescribable.” My eyes were not big enough to absorb everything they were taking in. I couldn’t stop snapping pictures with my phone so I could hope to capture a fraction of how incredible this sight was…the charm of the small wooden buildings and the farmers who sold their cheeses, and the quaint shops that carried souvenirs. The farther up we traveled and walked, the more breathtaking it was. Although we were up high, we didn’t need our jackets until we left Murren. It was fascinating seeing towns where there were no cars, perched precariously on the sides of the mountain, yet bustling with life. I was convinced it would be impossible to live there and be miserable. If there were a heaven, I was right on its doorstep.
Shepard was humored by my delight. I couldn’t get over it all. I was that annoying gawking tourist, moving at a snail’s pace. He eventually had to convince me to get back onto the tram so we could make the last seating for dinner. As we climbed even higher into the snow, I rested my back against his chest, sedated by wonder. I spent so much time peering into a microscope; it was nice to feel small for once. Our dinner was relatively quiet as we enjoyed each other’s company and the stunning vistas.
“This is the kind of place you bring someone when you want to ask them to marry you.” While I was taking a bite of chicken, right on cue, a man dropped to his knees at the table next to us and asked his girlfriend to be his bride.
I set my fork down to clap with the rest of the other patrons while staring blankly at the plate in front of me, no longer hungry. Sensing my sudden discomfort, Shepard asked for the check and pulled his coat on. I stepped out onto the overlook while he settled the bill and waited for him to join me. He leaned over the rail without speaking for a few minutes.
“Violet, why did that bother you back there?”
Rocking back and forth on my heels, I just shook my head. “I don’t know; it just did.”
I heard the audible exhale as he debated on how to reply. “I know you are not going to take the job, no matter what they offer you.”
Turning to face him, I tilted my head curiously. “Oh, how do you know?”
Laughing under his breath, he l
ooked out again towards the east. “You haven’t mentioned it once this week, except briefly last night. You might be here physically, but mentally you are a million miles away. I feel like you are going to walk out of my life and I never stood a chance. At least I know it’s genetic now.”
My blood started to boil in my veins; I could feel my lips starting to turn up into a snarl, ready to attack. “How dare you! My grandma did what she thought was right. It wasn’t easy, but she knew Hannalore was better off.”
Stepping closer to me with his chest puffed out aggressively, he was starting to seethe just as I was. “You honestly think she wouldn’t have chosen her family?”
“You don’t know anything about my family!”
“No, but I know what it’s like to grow up without one.”
With that, I closed my eyes and finally felt the pain he wanted to inflict on me. He did blame me, and now he had ammunition to fight harder. He was hurting, so he wanted me to hurt, too. He was either picking a fight to break me in hopes I would finally cave, or destroy me. Either way, we were both done.
“This isn’t about our families; it’s about you and me. You want to know? Hmm? You were right this week. Someone did break me. They left me in an emotional gutter to rot, and I was this close to ending it all.” I held my fingers together to emphasize my point. From the look on his face, he wasn’t prepared to handle what I was about to say.
“One beautiful little pill to make all the pain go away and rid the world of my destructive ass. I used to wonder what could possibly drive your father so far into making that choice, and you know what? I saw it. When you realize that you have destroyed everything good in your life, it’s easy to get lost in the dark.”
His head dropped and his voice became quiet. “What stopped you, Violet?”
The tears were burning behind my eyes, falling slowly down my cheeks and onto my jacket. I took off my glove and touched the side of Shepard’s face. “You did. I knew no matter how mad you were at me, the thought that I ended my life at the hands of an asshole would have not only made you sick, it would have devastated you. I knew I hurt you before, but I couldn’t do that to you.”