Wait for Me in Vienna

by May, Lana N.

Maybe my red dress . . . It looked fabulous. Johanna giggled nervously; she was half-naked and talking on the phone.

  “Good. Seven o’clock it is.”

  “Perfect, see you then. Oh, please send me your address. You don’t live with Martin anymore, right?”

  “No, but I’ll send you a text. See you soon.” Woo-hoo! We have a date.

  “Bye, Johanna!” Thank God, she said yes.

  The phone call had sounded very calm and relaxed. They had both expected it to be different, especially after such a long time, and it wasn’t as smart and vibrant as something out of the movies; after all, neither of them had a script.

  The rain lightly pelted Thomas’s windshield. He was on time, thanks to his navigation system, which led him easily to Johanna’s street. Without much traffic, it was only twelve minutes from his place. From a distance, he could see her already, but Johanna hadn’t spotted him yet. She didn’t know the kind of car he drove now, so she scrutinized each vehicle that drove by or stopped on her street. Thomas had exchanged the wrecked BMW for another one, the same model, but he didn’t get much for the wreck. He’d had to put down several thousand dollars and would be paying this one off for a while.

  Johanna’s jacket was wet from the light drizzle. She stood nervously at the edge of the road, chewing her fingernails down to the quick, then reminded herself again that she should relax and focus on the car that was slowly approaching. Thomas wanted to get out, but then decided to just reach over and open the front passenger door from the driver’s side because she was already standing there. Maybe I should’ve gotten out, he thought. He greeted her uncertainly.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello.”

  And then there was radio silence, the dreadful awkward pause. They didn’t know what to do; they didn’t exchange a little kiss, not even on the cheek. Johanna buckled up her seatbelt and Thomas put the car into first gear. The BMW rolled down the road. This new situation was something of a challenge. Being close to each other again felt normal, but it also didn’t. They had to straighten things out before they could figure out how to be together again. The past was like an old log that blocked their way; it wasn’t a huge log, but still an obstacle obstructing their ability to move forward.

  “Let’s get out of town. I know a great restaurant a few miles outside city limits, on the Danube.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “How long have you lived in your new place?”

  “For about two months. Living with Martin was just a way for me to jump-start my life. He and Linda needed their privacy again.”

  Johanna scrutinized Thomas’s right hand on the gearshift; his veins stood out a little, his hands looked tender, but not feminine—soft but masculine.

  “How’s Martin?”

  When Thomas asked that question, it suddenly occurred to Johanna that what happened the night of the party had caused a rift not only been between her and Thomas, but also between the two best friends. She hadn’t spoken with Martin about it, never questioned him on the topic. He just naturally and lovingly looked after his sister’s best interests.

  “He’s taken over a new project at work, and he’s having a lot of fun with it.” Johanna thought it would be best not to say much more and to ask Martin how he wanted to handle the situation.

  “Linda’s okay, too?”

  She nodded. “Yes, she’s doing very well.”

  Thomas became aware of Johanna’s perfume when she got warm and took off her jacket. He had offered to turn on the AC, but she declined. Thomas wasn’t familiar with the perfume. It smelled like a flower garden. He imagined a large meadow in Provence filled with wild, colorful flowers; in the middle of the field, he and Johanna were having a picnic, drinking Champagne that she’d brought especially for the occasion. They lay on a white cotton blanket; she laid her head on his legs and he lightly massaged her temples. She smelled so good and smiled at him . . .

  Where did such a corny fantasy come from? he asked himself. It was really out of character for him; normally, he wasn’t prone to these romantic flights of fancy.

  “So you never run into Martin?” Johanna asked, putting an end to Thomas’s ludicrous French daydream.

  “Sometimes, at parties, but I haven’t been very social the last few months. I had too much work to do.” Thomas changed the subject; it hurt him that his relationship with Martin had been so strained. “And you, Johanna? What have you been doing?”

  She began to tell him about her new duties in the cooking school, the move into her new place, and totally exciting weekends—none of which were really that spectacular. But she didn’t want Thomas to know that.

  Thomas was jealous. So she hasn’t missed me at all, he thought to himself. She was doing fine all along.

  The restaurant was idyllic, with couples tucked in private booths; it seemed to be fully booked.

  “Follow me,” said the hostess. She put them at the back of the restaurant, where they had a small separate area all to themselves.

  The menu was promising, and the selection was limited to three or four dishes in each category: appetizer, entrée, main course, and dessert. The ingredients were 100 percent organic and seasonal.

  “I thought you might like it,” Thomas said.

  “Yes, it looks lovely,” Johanna said demurely. She was excited. The restaurant was so charming, but she didn’t want to appear overly enthusiastic.

  “What shall we drink?”

  She looked at the wine list and opted for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

  “The same for me,” said Thomas when he gave his order to the waiter. Then he buried his face in the menu, peeking at Johanna, who was perusing the menu, too. They took a moment to quietly contemplate the restaurant’s offerings.

  “Did you find something?” asked Thomas after a while.

  He didn’t actually need to look at the menu, because he’d already inspected countless restaurants, along with their menus, photos, and reviews, on the Internet. As a result of his obsessive research, he’d practically memorized the menu.

  “Yes, I’m going to have the fish. And you?”

  “I’m going to order the filet mignon.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They raised their glasses tentatively and tapped them together.

  “Cheers.”

  “Yes, cheers.”

  Thomas wanted to toast to their future together, but he didn’t dare. There was a certain melancholy in the air, yet at the same time, an almost overpowering magnetic attraction between them.

  “What have you been doing besides working?” asked Johanna as she spread the freshly made vegan tomato spread on a slice of bread.

  “Like I said, mostly just working. Right now, we’re working on setting up a branch office in New York City. I’m responsible for the project, and there’s a lot that needs to get done. The plans for the new building have been drawn up, and problems are always arising. The whole thing has been running me ragged.” He bit into the bread smeared with tomato spread that Johanna had handed him.

  “Sounds interesting. In New York, you said?”

  Thomas nodded, and Johanna seemed quite pensive.

  “Other than that, I’ve been running a lot. I started swimming again, which is especially fun in the wintertime. I haven’t been going out very much. I missed a ton of parties because of work, and I haven’t really felt like going out. Most evenings, I’ve just wanted to stay home and kick back.”

  He sipped the Sauvignon Blanc, which he didn’t really like, but he wanted to follow Johanna’s lead. He wished he could have told her he’d been on a safari in Namibia, completely renovated his apartment, learned to play guitar, and invented something fantastic to benefit mankind, like a robot that could do all your work for you or a cure for AIDS. The only highlight of the last few months, however, was a four-day business trip to New York when he’
d been too busy to see much of the city at all. In fact, his life had been rather pathetic, as he’d already noted.

  Johanna relished the idea that he hadn’t gone out very much, that he had suffered, too. If she’d realized that earlier, she might not have spoken so enthusiastically about her “great” life when they were in the car. In reality, it hadn’t been nearly as great as she’d pretended. The waitress brought their food.

  “Mmm, that looks delicious.”

  “It makes me happy to see you happy,” Thomas said as he cut into his steak.

  This statement embarrassed Johanna, and her face got red. “How are your parents?”

  “Very well, thank you. Unfortunately, my mother’s friend passed away. It hit my parents pretty hard, but it hurt my mother the most.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you. They just left on vacation. It’ll be good for them to get away.” Thomas laughed suddenly. “They’re constantly on the go anyway, because they’re kind of complicated people. When it’s warm here, they fly someplace cold, and when it’s too cold here, they fly to Mauritius or the Maldives.”

  “They have time and money, so why not?”

  “Exactly,” he said.

  Johanna had never met his parents, but on their first date at the café, it had been obvious that he was close with them. At that time, Johanna had been reticent in regard to her parents, and although Thomas had been curious and asked about them, she’d revealed little. Now that he knew she was Martin’s sister, Thomas was aware that her parents had died, but he didn’t know all the details, because Martin never talked about it very much. Johanna was looking forward to meeting his parents one day. Actually, she would have been thrilled to meet them back when she and Thomas met, because he spoke of them so fondly. But they had known each other for just a few short days then. Who knew where this evening would lead to; who knew what would happen after their lovely meal? She’d already decided to keep her heart at a safe distance. She held back the full force of her feelings to keep herself from being sucked into chaos once again. This time I will be much more cautious, she promised herself. However, it became increasingly difficult to stick to her plan, because the burden of the past became lighter with every passing minute she spent with Thomas. It became irrelevant, almost difficult to remember. Thomas put his hand on hers lightly, and she allowed him to do so. She enjoyed his warmth and the tingling feeling that pervaded her body.

  “Your skin is so soft; it feels so good.”

  “Yes, I use good hand cream,” Johanna said, giggling; she was trying to cover her embarrassment. “Tell me about your New York project,” she said, then ordered another glass of wine.

  The evening at the restaurant ended with dessert—a chocolate mousse, which they shared. An hour later, they drove back to the city. They listened to a band called Minor Alps. Thomas was familiar with the band, but Johanna had never even heard of them. He wasn’t the typical fan of Top 40 music, and she appreciated his taste in music and got accustomed to it fairly quickly. The band’s folksy musical style kind of suited him; she liked it for that reason alone. The evening had passed so quickly; the trees seemed threatening in the darkness. A half moon glowed in the sky, and the street was empty, eerily so. It was hard to imagine that, from Monday to Friday between seven and nine in the morning, desperate drivers sat in traffic here, trying to get to work on time.

  “Would you like to come up for a drink?” Johanna said, giggling with embarrassment. “I’ll show you my apartment,” she continued, then anxiously waited for Thomas’s response.

  It didn’t take him long to consider her proposal.

  “Absolutely,” he blurted. He didn’t actually want to say that. He wanted to simply smile and nod, because that would have been a somewhat cooler, more controlled response. But his euphoria won the day.

  Johanna’s beautiful lips parted in a broad smile. Thomas smiled back at her, unable to contain his delight.

  “You have a beautiful place here,” he said as he examined her living-room wall, on which a few select photos hung. “Where was this photo taken?” he asked fondly, pointing at a portrait of Johanna seen from behind. Before her lay the sea, the impressive play of colors varying from blue to shades of green. Johanna wore an airy pastel dress that blew in the wind. She looked so heavenly; she could have been a fairytale princess.

  “That was in Portugal.” She brought him a glass of white wine since she had no beer. She obviously wasn’t prepared to entertain gentlemen callers. “Or would you prefer juice?”

  Thomas shook his head. “No. I should be safe with one more glass of wine.”

  “That’s probably the only photo of me that I like.” She put down the glass and sat down on the couch.

  “Who did you go to Portugal with?”

  “I was there alone; I was just traveling around.”

  “All alone? Very brave of you.”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly dangerous!” She laughed as she tucked a large throw pillow under her arm for support. It was pretty much the only real trip she’d taken in years, and she’d wanted the experience all to herself. “Have you gone anywhere lately? I mean, besides New York.”

  “No, nowhere. Normally, I travel a lot, but I really haven’t lately.”

  Johanna knew that Clarissa was mostly likely in New York. The thought that Thomas had been in the same city didn’t sit well with her, but she dared not ask about that; she didn’t want to spoil the mood between them, not now when she was trying to get to know him again. It was going pretty well so far.

  “For my next trip, I’d really like to go back to Ireland,” Thomas said.

  “Oh, yes, I can totally understand why you’d want to go there.”

  “Does that mean you’d come with me?” he asked as he held up his glass in another toast.

  She scrutinized Thomas closely, examining his somewhat emaciated face, and thinking how some thick Irish stew would do him good; he could afford to put some meat back on his bones.

  Then she simply said, without weighing the numerous pros and cons, “Why not?”

  “Soon?”

  “How soon is soon?” A vacation with Thomas? Her pulse started to rise. Was she jumping the gun by agreeing to that so quickly?

  “We’ll see,” he said, secretly considering all his options as Johanna inched closer to him.

  She felt the need to be near him. If we were together on vacation, then . . . she thought, then . . . the possibilities would be endless.

  Thomas happily noticed her leaning toward him. He didn’t want to make Johanna feel rushed and kept a gentlemanly distance so as not to enter her personal space. Still, he was waiting for any hint that he should move closer. He was like a puppy that sat, patiently wagging his tail, at the front door before finally being allowed to come back inside the house. Seeing Johanna moving a tiny bit closer was definitely an invitation, a clear sign that she was ready for him to move closer. He knew he had to do something. So he took her hand in his and stroked it tenderly. Then she yawned—it seemed suspiciously contrived.

  “You can lay your head in my lap if you want to.”

  Johanna didn’t have to be asked twice. She laid her head on his thigh. He tenderly stroked her hair, which felt like precious silk in his hands. It was odd, but it was also miraculous that Johanna seemed to trust him this much. He never would have expected that. It almost seemed that his French daydream had come true. Suddenly, she sat up.

  “I have something I want to say to you, Thomas.”

  He looked at her in shock, then smiled in amusement as she continued.

  “You need to start eating again and get back to the old Thomas!”

  Thomas started to laugh, and Johanna punched him in the ribs. Luckily, it was a very gentle, ladylike swat.

  “I mean it!” she said. “Your legs are bony and uncomfortable. A little meat on your bones wo
uld do you good.” She lifted her fist for another punch.

  He held her hand tightly, she struggled, and then he held her face and carefully gave her a kiss. It was soulful at first, then passionate, just as it should be for two lovers who hadn’t kissed in months. They didn’t let each other go, and the kiss lasted, with a few short breaks, for at least an hour. They were both so lost in it that time seemed to stand still, as if the clock had stopped ticking altogether. The world could go on whether it rained or snowed, whether it was sunny or cloudy, whether a nightingale or lark sang, whether it was morning or night. They’d never know; they were lost forever in this kiss.

  They changed positions a few times due to stiff necks and numb toes and fingers. At first, she lay on top of him, then she lay beside him, then they sat up again. Then he kneeled next to her. He didn’t want to lie on top of her, because he thought that he would still be too heavy. Despite his recent weight loss, he still weighed 165 pounds compared to his former weight of 187 pounds. His former weight was exactly right for the athletic Thomas. He’d looked dashing, sexy, masculine, and he’d felt good. Despite his weight loss, he felt better than ever at this exact moment. They were both happy. The evening had led to the kiss, the countless kisses.

  27

  The next morning, both Thomas and Johanna woke up in their own beds. They’d thought it best to take things slowly. Johanna sprawled out over her bed and reached for the other side. It was empty; she knew that already, but she needed to convince herself again that Thomas wasn’t there. He wasn’t. He’d gone home the previous night. He would have loved to stay, and Johanna would have loved for him to as well. Despite their passionate kisses, they hadn’t been able to express their true desires or throw caution to the wind, especially after all they’d been through.

  Thomas couldn’t sleep at all that night. He was too agitated. His feelings were out of control. So, he went for a walk around five o’clock in the morning. He soaked in the beauty of the April morning, which he had never truly perceived before. A common redstart whistled his first tune, then robins, blackbirds, and wrens joined in. The great titmouse and the chaffinch completed the chorus, along with the sparrow, who sang the bass. The breeze blew in beneath the little birds’ wings, and they flew off. The leaves rustled quietly, accenting the song like yin and yang. Then came the sound of what seemed like a babbling brook, but in reality it was a fountain, water whispering over stone.