“You'll see him again soon,” Christianna said confidently as they both walked to work, after saying goodbye to the team. Laure headed toward the office, and Christianna toward the hut, where she visited the AIDS ward every morning.
“So he says,” Laure muttered under her breath, and Christianna grinned.
She found Mary doing rounds with Parker when she went in. He had just finished examining a young mother whose baby had contracted AIDS. Further conversation with her revealed that she hadn't used the formula they'd given her and had given the infant the breast instead. She said her husband had been suspicious of the formula, thought it might make the baby sick, and had thrown it away. It was a tragedy Mary saw every day. AIDS and malnutrition were the curses she was constantly fighting there.
Christianna moved quietly past them to visit the women and children she knew. She didn't want to disturb Parker or Mary, and went about her business in silence, whispering gently in the bits of Tigrinya and Tigre that she had already learned. Both languages accounted for ninety percent of what was spoken in Eritrea. There was some Arabic spoken as well, although Christianna hadn't learned any yet. She was working hard learning the other two, and Fiona was helping her as she was fluent in both, given her extensive work in the field delivering the babies of the local women. The women Christianna spoke to in the AIDS ward had names like Mwanaiuma, which meant “Friday,” Wekesa, which she had been told meant “harvest time,” Nsonowa (seventh born), Abeni, Monifa, Chiumbo, Dada, and Ife, which meant “love.” Christianna loved the sound of their names. The women laughed at her efforts in Tigre, which she didn't speak as well yet, and nodded their approval as she tried to master at least the rudiments of Tigrinya. They certainly weren't languages she'd ever speak again once she left. But they were useful here, for her work with the local women and children, and whenever she moved around Senafe. And the women loved her for the effort she made, even when she made embarrassing mistakes. When she did, everyone giggled in the ward. After she had finished delivering baskets of fruit to each of them, and set out two vases of flowers she'd picked herself, she went to her office to meet with half a dozen young women, to teach them the AIDS prevention course she'd designed.
She was just finishing with the women when Parker walked in, just in time to see her hand each of the women a ballpoint pen and several pencils as they left.
“What was that about? The pens I mean.” He was looking at her with admiration. He had been touched earlier by how kind and attentive she was to everyone in the ward. And he thought the AIDS prevention class she had designed was very impressive.
Christianna smiled before she answered. He was wearing baggy shorts to his knees, and his white coat over a T-shirt. Everything was informal here. “I don't know why, but everyone here loves pens and pencils. I buy them by the case in town.” Actually, Samuel and Max did, and gave them to her when they came back, so she could give them out, on nearly every visit to the ward, and to everyone after each class. “They'd rather have a pen than almost anything except food.” The entire country was fighting a battle with malnutrition. Food was the greatest gift, and the center handed out a lot of it. It was their most important supply.
“I'll have to remember that,” Parker said, watching her. She seemed to have learned a lot in the short time she was there. He had been particularly impressed by her efforts to speak to them in their native tongue. Their languages sounded nearly impossible to pick up to him. He couldn't even imagine managing as well as she did after being there little more than a month. Christianna had been working hard with her translator to learn essential words and phrases in the most common local dialects. “Are you heading over to the tent for lunch?” he asked with a friendly smile. She wondered if he was lonely now that the visiting medical team was gone.
“I teach a class in a few minutes,” she explained, “with Ushi in the classroom. The kids are really cute.”
“Do you speak the local dialects to them, too?” he asked with interest.
“I try to, but they usually laugh at me, a lot more than the women.” She smiled thinking about it. The kids always erupted in gales of giggles whenever she said the wrong thing, which she did often. But she was determined to learn their language so she could speak to them directly.
“Do you give them pens, too?” He was beginning to find her intriguing. She had a kind of quiet, gracious poise that appealed to him, more than he wanted it to. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved with someone here. It would be a lot simpler to just be friends, and he had the impression she'd be good at that, too. She was a good listener, and seemed interested in people.
“Yes, I do,” she said in answer to his question. “Max and Sam buy them for me in cases. Colored pens are always a big hit.”
“I'll have to buy some, too, to give to patients. You'd think they'd want something more useful.”
“Pens are a big status symbol here. They suggest education, and that you have important things to write down. Maggie told me about it when I came.”
“What about lunch?” It was six hours since they'd last eaten, and he was starving. He was holding a nutrition clinic with Geoff that afternoon, where they were going to be giving out food.
“I don't have time,” she said honestly. “I'll grab something on my way to class. I usually just eat fruit at lunch. But they put sandwiches out every day, not just when the visiting team is here.” He was still new to the camp and its habits.
“I was hoping they would. I get so hungry here, it must be the air.” Or how hard they worked, they all did, and he had, too. She had also liked his manner with people. He seemed gentle and competent, and deeply interested in every case. He seemed to respond easily to the warmth of the people he treated. It was easy to see that he was good at what he did. He exuded quiet confidence, and had a manner that assured people he knew what he was doing.
They walked over to the dining tent side by side, and once there, Christianna grabbed a handful of fruit from an enormous basket. There were yogurts there, too, which the camp cook bought in Senafe, but she never touched them. She stayed away from dairy products in Africa. A lot of people got very sick, not just from the major diseases that plagued the area, but also from simple dysentery. She hadn't suffered from it yet, and was hoping to keep it that way. Parker helped himself to two sandwiches, wrapped them in a napkin, and took a banana.
“Since you won't have lunch with me, Cricky”—he smiled—“I guess I'll take mine back to work, too.” The others had come and gone. None of the workers ever lingered at lunchtime. He walked her to the classroom where she and Ushi taught, and then went back to the other hut, to discuss a number of their cases with Mary. “See you later,” he said pleasantly, and then wandered off, looking casual and happy. It was obvious to Christianna that he was trying to make friends, but Ushi didn't think so. She thought he had something a little more personal in mind.
“A lunch date?” Ushi teased her.
“No. I didn't have time. I think he's just lonely without his friends.”
“I think it might be more than that.” Ushi had been watching him for days, and actually found him very attractive herself, but like Christianna and most of the others, she didn't want the complications of a camp romance. And he seemed far more interested in Cricky than in her, she realized. He had made that pretty clear through his friendly overtures to her, and had barely said a word to Ushi.
“I don't have time for more than that, nor the interest,” Christianna said firmly. “Besides, Americans are that way. They're friendly. I'll bet you that in spite of the scheming in the camp, he's not even remotely interested in romance. Just like the rest of us, he's here to work.”
“That doesn't mean you can't have a little fun, too,” Ushi said with a smile. She liked going out with men, but had met no eligible ones for her here. Parker was the first truly attractive candidate who had come along, other than the visiting team every month, although she thought he was too young for her. He was the same age as Max
and Samuel, whom she had overlooked romantically for the same reason. She knew from seeing Parker's records in the office that he was thirty-two years old. Ushi was forty-two. Age didn't matter here, and most of the time they hung out as a group. But she had a gut feeling he was interested in Christianna, although there was no serious evidence of it yet, despite his seemingly casual efforts to make friends. She had noticed Parker watching Christianna quietly at dinner, although she seemed oblivious to it. She didn't have romance on her mind, only work, and she had a polite, somewhat reserved, conservative style about her, particularly with men, almost as though she were constantly aware of not exposing herself in any way. She was far more relaxed and outspoken with the women. “I think he has a crush on you,” Ushi finally said openly, and Christianna firmly shook her head.
“Don't be silly,” she brushed off the suggestion, and a moment later they went back to work, but Ushi was convinced her assessment was correct.
She and Fiona chatted about it idly a few days later, as Parker continued to chat with Christianna at every opportunity and had started borrowing books from her, and consulting her about several of the AIDS patients, whom she seemed to have come to know well. He always seemed to have something he needed to ask her about, tell her, lend her, borrow from her. And at her suggestion, he had started handing out pens to everyone he saw. The patients loved him for it, and he became much loved by all within weeks of his arrival, for his gentle ways. He stayed up late at night in the men's tent, poring over the notes he made for his research project. Fiona often saw his portion of the tent lit up when she came home late from deliveries nearby. Often when he heard her, he came out and said hello to her, and they chatted for a few minutes, even at three and four in the morning. And remarkably, he always seemed fresh and good humored the next day.
He often invited Christianna to go on walks with him at the end of their workdays. She saw no harm in doing so, enjoyed his company, and together they discovered new paths and fresh terrain previously undiscovered. They agreed that they both loved Africa, its people, the atmosphere, the excitement of being able to improve conditions for people who were invariably so kind and open to them, and so desperately needed their help.
“I feel as though my life finally has some meaning to it,” she said one day, as they sat on a log before turning back. There was no tree overhead, and she had told him about her experience with Laure when the snake fell out of the tree, some months back. It was nearly April by then, and Laure was getting ready to leave any day. Her correspondence with Antoine had flourished, and she was looking forward to seeing him in Geneva in June. They had already made plans to meet again. “I never felt that way before,” Christianna continued. “I always felt as though I was wasting my time, and never did anything useful for anyone … until that night in Russia … and when I came here.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself,” Parker said generously. “You just finished school, Cricky. No one your age has set fire to the world yet, or cured all its ills. I'm nearly ten years older than you are, and I'm just getting started myself. Helping people is a life's work, and it looks to me like you're off to a hell of a good start here. Is there something like this you can do in Liechtenstein when you go back?” Although they both knew that there were few opportunities in a lifetime like the one they were experiencing here.
She laughed wryly at his question, forgetting for a moment that he didn't know who she was. Talking to Parker was like talking to a brother, though not necessarily her own. “Are you kidding? All I do at home is cut ribbons and go to dinner parties with my father. I was leading a totally stupid life before I came here. It was driving me insane,” she said, sounding frustrated again, just thinking about it.
“What kind of ribbons?” he asked, looking puzzled. “Cutting ribbons” meant nothing to him. The concept of a princess cutting a ribbon to open a hospital or a children's home was inconceivable to him and the farthest thing from his mind. “Is your father in the ribbon business? I thought he was in politics and PR,” and even that explanation had been vague.
Christianna laughed out loud in spite of herself. “I'm sorry … that made no sense. It doesn't matter. I just go on the jobs he sends me on … you know, like an opening ceremony for a shopping mall. Sometimes he sends me in his place when he's too busy. That's the PR part. The political side is more complicated to explain.” She was momentarily horrified that she had almost slipped and spilled the beans.
“It doesn't sound like fun to me,” he said sympathetically. He had felt the same way about joining his father's practice in San Francisco. He much preferred the research project he was working on at Harvard, and now the time he was spending here. Christianna had explained many things to him, and had been very kind about introducing him to life in Senafe, and the others had been equally helpful and hospitable.
“It isn't fun,” she said honestly, looking pensive for a moment, as she thought about her father and the dutiful life she led in Vaduz. She had talked to him the day before. Freddy had finally come back from China a few weeks earlier, in March, as planned, and according to her father, he was already getting restless. He'd been staying at Palace Liechtenstein in Vienna and giving parties there. He said he'd go mad if he had to stay in Vaduz. She suspected, as her father did, that once Freddy inherited the throne, he would probably move the court back to Vienna, where it used to be, for generations before them. It was far more accessible and sophisticated, and he had a lot more fun there. Though once he was the reigning prince, he would have to be far more serious than he had ever been. She was thinking about all of it with a quiet frown, while Parker watched her.
“What were you thinking about just then?” he asked quietly. She had been silent for several minutes.
“I was just thinking about my brother. He's so impossible at times, and he always upsets my father. I love him, but he's just not a responsible person. He got back from China a few weeks ago, and he's already in Vienna, playing and giving parties. We all worry about him in the family. He just refuses to grow up, and for now he doesn't have to. But one day he will, and if he doesn't, it will be just terrible.” She was going to add “for our country,” but she caught herself and didn't.
“I assume that's why so much is expected of you, and why you feel you have to go home and help your father with the business. What if you didn't go home, and stopped enabling your brother? Maybe then he would have to grow up and take some responsibility off you.” It was a sensible solution, and an unfamiliar subject to him. His own brother had been a remarkable student, and was a highly respected physician with a wife and three children. It was hard for him to relate to the tales she told him about her brother.
“You don't know my brother,” she said, smiling sadly. “I'm not sure he'll ever grow up. I was only five when my mother died, he was fifteen, and I think it upset him very badly. I think he runs away from everything he feels. He refuses to be serious or responsible about anything.”
“I was fifteen when my mother died. It was terrible for all three of us, and you could be right. My brother went a little crazy for a while, but he settled down in college. Some people just take a long time to grow up, your brother may be one of those. But I don't see why you have to sacrifice your life for him.”
“I owe it to my father,” she said simply, and he could see that it was a bond and duty she felt strongly about. He admired her for it, and was also surprised she had been able to come here. He asked her about it, and she explained that her father had finally relented, after endless badgering from her, and given her six months to a year with the Red Cross, before coming home to her responsibilities in Vaduz.
“You're too young to have all those expectations put on you,” Parker said, looking concerned as her eyes met his. There was something deep within them that spoke of things he didn't know, and the look of sadness in her eyes touched him profoundly. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand in his own. He suddenly wanted to protect her from all the intolerable burdens put on h
er, and shield her from all those who might hurt her. His eyes never wavered and hers never left his, and almost as though it had been meant to be that way since time began, he leaned over and kissed her. She almost felt as though someone else had made the decision for her. There had been no decision, no choice, there was no fear. She just melted into his arms and they kissed until they were breathless. It was comfort, desire, and passion blended into something very heady that dizzied both of them. They sat looking at each other afterward in the hot African sun, as though seeing each other for the first time.
“I didn't expect that,” Christianna said quietly, still holding his hand, as he looked at her ever more gently. There was something about her that reached deep into his heart, and had almost since the day they met.
“Neither did I,” he said honestly. “I've admired you a lot ever since I met you. I love the way you speak to people, and play with the children. I love the way you seem to take care of everyone, and always respect who they are.” She was both grace and gentleness itself.
It was a lovely thing to say about her and she was touched, but even as they began something that might turn out to be beautiful, she was fully aware that if it had a beginning, it would have an end, too. Whatever they decided to share could only exist here in Africa. Their lives were too different, and would be surely once they got home. There was no way she would ever be allowed to pursue a relationship with him. She was just old enough now to be under constant scrutiny, at home and in the press. And a young American doctor, however intelligent or respectable, would never fit the rigid criteria set by the reigning prince for her. He wanted her to marry nothing less than a prince. When the time came for all that, if she was to follow her parents' wishes and family tradition that had existed till now, she would be obliged to ally herself with someone of noble birth. Given his antiquated and rigid ideas, her father would never tolerate a commoner as an acceptable husband for her. So whatever they started now could live only as long as they were both in Senafe. Carrying it beyond that would start a war with her father, which was the last thing she wanted. His approval meant the world to her, and she didn't want to upset him. Freddy did enough of that, and their father didn't deserve that after all he'd sacrificed for them. Christianna had been convinced for years that he had never remarried because of her and Freddy, which had been a sacrifice for him, maybe even a big one. Given how her father felt, once home again, her relationship with Parker would become forbidden fruit for her. It was not just about following rigid guidelines her father set for her. For Christianna it was also about respecting hundreds of years of tradition, however old-fashioned, and the country she loved so much, and even about respecting her father's promise to her dying mother.
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