She was tired, yet strangely excited. One more hour, and she should be there. Once she was back on the freeway toward Zurich, she increased her speed on the near empty road, although she couldn’t quite drive as fast as she had in Germany. No need to push it. Cruising at a steady 140 kmh, Helene saw on the Merc’s GPS that she’d arrive just shortly after two a.m.
Maybe I should stop at Würenlos for a coffee? Take some fresh air, walk a bit. Then again, that’s so close to Zurich that I might as well keep going, and so she did.
After she passed Zurich, Helene left the freeway and reached the village another twenty minutes later. There wasn’t a soul on any of the sidewalks.
I’m amazed they don’t roll them up at night, she thought. Two more blocks, and I’m there. She had been there so many times that she easily recognized the streets. When she pulled up in front of the large house that her father-in-law had built, she suddenly realized that she wasn’t sure how to proceed from here.
If she used the doorbell, she would wake the kids. She parked behind Mike’s Lexus in the driveway, and quietly, as if her every move might be overheard, she climbed out of the car, grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, and walked up to the front door.
She couldn’t use the bell, but if she walked around the house, she could knock on Dan and Sascha’s window.
As she hurried around the house, her face flushed, and she felt like a burglar. When she got to the window she had been looking for, Helene peeked in, just to be sure, but she couldn’t see much in the dark. So she knocked and waited.
* * * * *
Helene
Dan heard the knock on their bedroom window and thought he was dreaming. Without so much as a move, he opened his eyes and tried to adjust to the darkness. A figure stood outside the window, barely visible in the pale light of the street lamps.
Someone’s trying to break in. All of a sudden, Dan was wide awake, confused. What the fuck! Where are my shorts? He turned on the night lamp next to the bed, hoping that might scare the burglar away, then looked again and was stunned. Helene?
He shook Sascha, trying to wake him up.
“Hon, Helene is here.”
“No, let me sleep, I’m tired. Helene is at her parents’ house. Turn of the frickin’ light. Go to sleep.”
“Sascha, look, she’s standing right here, outside our window, and I’m not wearing a thing. Would you mind? You’re closer to the bathroom. Go grab a towel or something.”
Dan was both annoyed and embarrassed. He just couldn’t get out of bed, naked, and walk over to the window. The whole situation was too surreal.
Next to him, Sascha turned and stared at the woman outside their bedroom window. “Helene, what the fuck?”
Sascha rolled out of bed, covered his crotch with one hand, waved the other at Helene, and hoped she would have the decency not to stare at his ass while he found some clothes to put on. He slipped on a pair of briefs and headed to the window.
“What on earth are you doing here, Helene? Let me open the door for you, okay?”
“Thanks, Sascha.” She sounded stunned, unable to say more.
A few minutes later, Helene sat in the kitchen, with a cup of coffee in her hands. Sascha sat beside her, still in his briefs, and Dan wore a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
“Do you want me to go get Mike?” Dan asked.
“No, I’ll go upstairs to him in a minute,” Helene replied. “Listen, boys, I’m dead tired. I’ve just spent more than five hours on the freeway driving down here. Mind if I go to bed?”
“No, by all means, but what’s going on?” Sascha asked. “Did I say something to elicit this response from you?”
“Actually, your call was just the final drop that tipped the balance. I had been thinking about phoning Mike for some time, and I’ve done a lot of soul searching. And when you mentioned the meeting with the lawyer tomorrow, I knew I had to be here.”
Sascha gave Dan a worried look. “So what’s the lawyer got to do with you and Mike?”
This doesn’t bode well. Sascha’s mind was racing, he almost panicked. What is going on here? Fuck, I knew I should’ve paid more attention to the business. I knew I couldn’t trust Mike to handle things on his own.
“Sascha, trust me, okay? But I need to get to bed, now.” Helene got up, hugged Dan, and kissed Sascha on the forehead. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to work out just fine. Goodnight, boys. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, and disappeared upstairs.
Sascha and Dan looked at each other, not saying anything. Eventually, Dan broke the standoff by walking over to Sascha, pulling him from the chair, hugging him, and pulling him back toward their bedroom.
“Hon, it’s almost three in the morning. I’m tired, and we both could use the rest.” Dan kept on his shorts when he climbed back into bed.
You never know, he thought. You never know in this family.
* * * * *
Mike and Helene
Helene noticed the lights on in Mike’s bedroom through the small space between the carpet and the door. Quietly, she pushed the handle, opened the door, and peeked inside. Mike sat at his desk, back to her, half-slumped in a chair, working. Helene’s heart warmed to the sight of him, always working hard to provide for his family.
She approached the desk, her steps silent on the carpet, then she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Herz, I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his ear.
Mike flew from his half-slumber. “Helene?”
“Does anyone else do this to you?” She felt a sudden stab of pain as the memory of the reason for their separation once again returned to her mind.
“What are you doing here? What? Sascha said you’d be calling in the morning.”
“Herz,” she said, using heart as a term of endearment, as she had for more than a dozen years. “We need to talk, and we have a lot to talk about. But I just got here, I left the kids with Oma, and I’m dead tired. Mind if we postpone this for a couple of hours and get some sleep first?”
Mike was at a loss for words, so he shrugged and walked back to bed. Helene disappeared into the bathroom and returned minutes later in a nightgown, switched off the lights, and snuggled into bed next to him.
“Goodnight, try to sleep, Herz,” she said and rested her head against his shoulder.
* * * * *
Downstairs
Sleep eluded Sascha for the rest of the night. Next to him, Dan was turned toward the window, his deep slumber eliciting a tinge of envy from Sascha, who tossed, turned, but couldn’t find the peace to fall asleep. Too many thoughts rushed through his mind. What exactly is it that has me so worried? He knew Helene well enough to realize that she was more than capable of a stunt like the one she’d just pulled. He realized that she would fight for her marriage, fight for what was rightfully hers, fight for her family, her children. But why was her attendance at tomorrow’s meeting with the lawyer so imperative? Why? Sascha was unable to make any sense of it.
Instead, his mind kept wandering, back to his own relationship, to his beautiful husband, and some of the trials they had faced over the years.
* * * * *
Sex
“Why is sex so important to us humans?” Dan had asked after a particularly intense session with Sascha at the small apartment they shared in Kloten, the suburb mostly known for hosting Zurich’s international airport.
Dan had moved in with him six months earlier. After his winter break at college was over, he had transferred to Switzerland, where he planned to finish his education, living with his new husband.
“You want to hear the biological, the sociological, or the psychological explanation?” Sascha asked. “Or do you just want to know why I think you’re the hottest piece of ass on the planet?”
“That’ll do just fine.” Dan laughed, and they once again kissed passionately.
Carefully, Dan tried to approach the subject at his heart. “We’ve been together for almost a year, and I’ve been patient, you know tha
t. But don’t you think I deserve to know why you are so afraid of fucking? I mean, I love you, and I will never leave you, so don’t I deserve an answer?”
Sascha froze in his arms, stiffening at the old argument. “Man, not again. We’ve talked about this so many times. I just don’t like to fuck, never have, and I certainly don’t need your nine inches poking inside me. You know you can go out and fuck your brains out. I really don’t mind, but it’s something I won’t do. I don’t feel comfortable, I just don’t. Please, Dan, please don’t push me.”
“Whatever.” Dan was disappointed. “I can see how you would be a top, but I’d be happy to bottom for you, I just want to be close to you, Hon, don’t you see that? You know how much I love you. ”
Sascha turned into Dan’s embrace and kissed him.
“I love you, too. Can you believe that without me poking around in your ass?”
Dan was defeated, and he knew it. Any argument from now on would consist of an implied questioning of Sascha’s love, and he was smarter than to set off that trap again. Dan resigned to kissing Sascha, the argument settled for the time being.
***
Sascha felt ashamed as he thought back to that discussion. He knew that Dan loved him, and that he hadn’t always been honest to him about his reasons, but the shame from the events in Australia and the consequences of that had left such a deep wound in Sascha’s soul that he couldn’t bring himself to talk to Dan about it.
Besides, if he knew what a slut I really am, he’ll leave me. No question about that. He’ll just get up, grab the boys, and leave me. Sascha knew he wouldn’t be able to cope with that.
Why is sex so important? Sascha thought, mulling his husband’s question from all those years ago in his mind. Why do we spend so much time pursuing people for those few seconds an orgasm will last?
Being a psychologist, Sascha was well aware of all the theories and had a fairly good grasp on the research and on the approaches by Freud, Jung, and all the others who had tried to answer this question that had followed humanity since the dawn of time.
Sex had always been a controversial topic, in literature, religion, and philosophy. Not to mention the modern sciences like medicine and psychology. As a gay man, Sascha was aware that he was at the focal point of much of the debate going on in society, and while there had been much progress in awarding people like him equal civil rights in many countries, he understood that for most ordinary people out there, what he and Dan did in bed was odd, weird, an abomination even. Those people could not look beyond the sex, could not understand the love they shared, or how similar their feelings really were to just about every other human being.
To Sascha, sex was about intimacy, sure, but it was also about communication. He had treated so many patients, sitting in his office, either on a chair or in the sofa, dressed in nice clothes, dressed up even, lying right to him. He had attended business meetings where men in starched shirts, ties, and suits had lied to each other across conference rooms or lunch tables.
Yet when he was in bed with a man, lying naked, huddled together, lies were always far away. Instead, there was a sense of complete honesty between two human beings, at least for the instant.
It’s as if clothes gave them permission to be dishonest, shielding them from the truth, from the obligation to be truthful to one another. Sascha had since learned to mask his own honesty when talking to Dan when they lay naked in bed, at least when it came down to that one tricky subject.
* * * * *
Breakfast
At some point, Sascha must have dozed off after all. He woke to the sound of the shower from the adjacent bathroom, where Dan was getting ready for the day. A sense of happiness trickled down Sascha’s spine at the thought of his husband showering while he lay in their bed, barely awake.
My beautiful man, our amazing boys! With a smile, Sascha sat up and rubbed his eyes.
The bedroom door opened, and there stood Pascal.
“Morning, Daddy. I’m hungry.” Pascal jumped onto the bed and hugged him.
Shit, my morning wood! Sascha thought and caught the boy just before he landed where no son should ever land.
“Hey there, son, did you sleep okay? Is Shane up already?” Then he thought about Helene. “We have a little surprise for you boys.”
“Surprise? What, Daddy, what?” Pascal shouted.
“You’ll find out. Go get Shane, and I’ll see you in the kitchen in a minute. Daddy just needs to get some clothes on, okay?
Pascal trotted out of the bedroom again, and Sascha slipped out from under the covers, into the bathroom, where he felt the twinge of a bladder that needed emptying.
Dan had just climbed out of the shower. He gave Sascha a puzzled look. “Morning, handsome. Boys up?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We need to hurry, before they wreck the place.”
* * * * *
Upstairs
Mike woke up disoriented. At first he thought that his mind had played tricks on him, that he had merely dreamed about Helene’s arrival, but when we woke up, her head still on his shoulder, her sweet scent in his nostrils, he couldn’t believe his luck.
What have I done to deserve this woman? he thought. I’ll never fuck up, never again. From now on, I’ll do whatever she wants, whatever it takes to make her and the kids happy.
He tried to wiggle himself free, but at the first movement, Helene turned around and opened her eyes.
“You’re not getting away so easily.” Her right arm moved in on his crotch and easily found his morning erection. “I need you, Herz,” she whispered. “I want you, and I want you now.”
Mike didn’t need a second invitation. Their lovemaking was intense, passionate, rough even, their bodies eager after having been separated for such a long time. They knew each other well, knew exactly how to pleasure each other. Soon, Helene’s breathing became heavy, her moans louder, and Mike joined her.
They lay next to each other, relaxed and spent. Mike’s mind was in turmoil. He felt guilty and happy, remorseful, and even a little sad.
“Herz, we need to talk,” she said.
Here it comes, he thought. I’m doomed.
“Sure,” he said, and watched her face carefully for a clue of what was coming next.
“I’ve been thinking, and I’m not so sure anymore that this Indian girl was all your fault,” Helene said. “Don’t get me wrong. I still need to work on that, and I think it was a horrible thing to do. After all, we’re married, and we’re not like those two horny boys downstairs. I expected more from you, and I’m disappointed.”
I’m so dead, he thought.
“But I think that maybe I may have exacerbated the situation. I may not have been as supportive of you as I could’ve been, particularly when it comes to my parents. I’m sorry for that.”
Mike was stunned. He had been ready to be served divorce papers, but this was unexpected. He looked at Helene, still not convinced that she wasn’t setting him up.
“I think we need a change of pace. I think we need to leave Darmstadt. I don’t think you’ll ever be truly happy with my father and his cronies looming all around you.”
“Are you serious?” he managed to ask.
She nodded. “That’s why I had to come here today, to the meeting. I have an idea.”
Helene then began to share with Mike the full details of her plan to rescue their marriage. Mike looked at the woman sitting next to him in bed, her long blond hair, her full breasts.
Those amazing breasts. Fuck. Focus, dude! It took every last ounce of concentration Mike had to listen to his wife and not just jump her again for some repeat action. Instead, he listened as she explained a plan that just might work.
* * * * *
The Kitchen
Dan was cutting oranges into halves while Sascha pressed the juice from them. It had become a sort of ritual whenever they visited the house to make fresh orange juice for breakfast. At home they would never do that. It was far too easy and cheap to buy fresh o
range juice from their local convenience store, but his mom’s old juice press, the one she had barely used, had become an anchor around which the Meyer family built their breakfast ritual. Today, that required many oranges.
From the living room came the sound of some cartoon on TV. The boys, both propped on their stomachs, focused on the screen, still in their pajamas. “No reason to change them before breakfast,” Dan had remarked. “They’ll just mess up another set of clothes.”
With the juice ready and eggs cooking, Dan excused himself to run down to the local bakery to get some bread. He looked forward to the exercise and the chance to get some fresh air to clear his mind.
Meanwhile, Sascha set the table for all six of them, suddenly realizing how quickly they had gotten accustomed to these new living arrangements in a house that was still technically his mother’s. They had laid her to rest less than twenty-four hours ago, he realized, and felt a wave of sadness.
He and Dan had stayed in his parents’ bedroom after his mother had moved to the nursing home. The second bedroom was perfect for the boys, and Mike and his family had taken over the upper floor. That had worked fine for them while their mother was still alive. It hadn’t seemed strange then, but today, that arrangement seemed so final, so definitive. Sascha felt the tears well up inside him and couldn’t stop himself from starting to cry.
Helene found him by the stove.
“You okay?” She took Sascha into her arms.
“It’s just Mom,” he whispered. “I was just struck by the fact that she’s gone.” The timer went off, and he broke away from her embrace.
Family Ties Page 12