Sun & Moon - a contemporary romance (The Minstrel Series #1)

by Strauss, Lee

  The groceries were barely put away before they ended up making out on the sofa. They moaned and giggled, and Katja was ready to give everything away to Micah. She’d never felt this strongly about anyone before, and the thought occurred to her that she was falling in love.

  Micah gently pushed her back, taking a deep breath.

  “I think we should slow things down a little.” He stroked her cheek with his finger and rested his forehead against hers. “The best things in life are savored, experienced gradually over time.”

  Katja smiled. Micah was right. Even though it was so tempting to eat a whole jar of candy in one sitting, no one was happy with how they felt afterward.

  Micah gestured to her guitar. “Play for me.”

  It was a simple request, but one that made Katja abnormally nervous. Micah had heard her play before, but always in a group setting at one of her gigs. She rarely practiced or wrote songs when he was home, not since her feelings for him had started to grow. It just felt… too vulnerable.

  “I don’t know,” she responded. “Why don’t you turn the stereo on instead?”

  “Katja, please.” He tilted his head, and grinned playfully. “Sing for me.”

  Katja hesitated, then removed her guitar from its case. She laid it across her lap and pressed her fingers to the strings, adjusting the tuning pegs to bring them in tune. Playing and singing was such a normal creative expression for her, but for some reason, today, alone with Micah, she felt like she was about to bare her soul.

  “What do you want to hear?”

  “Have you written anything new?”

  She nodded and her tongue reached for the ring in her lip. Was she ready to play it for Micah? He’d know the lyrics were about them. She strummed the first chord and dove in.

  It’s all in how you look at it,

  she said

  As if there were a hundred ways to walk a high wire

  Go on and try to let it go

  Close your eyes and

  Let your heart rule your head sometimes

  Some folks dig for gold

  and only scratch the surface

  You saw something more

  and it’s making you nervous

  Maybe he’d think it was about something else, and not about her deepening emotions about the man who stared so intently at every move she made with her fingers and every word that formed on her lips.

  She stopped suddenly, and glanced away. “That’s all I have for now.”

  “Katja, you are so talented, so artistic.” Micah said. His eyebrows jumped. “It’s very sexy.”

  She giggled and plucked out a random lick on the strings.

  “When did you know you wanted to be a musician?” He stroked her arm. “Tell me how it happened.”

  “I can’t remember a day when I didn’t love music,” she responded. “When I was young, before my father left, my mother always had music playing on the radio in our kitchen. Even as a baby I banged out rhythms on the table when I was supposed to be eating my Nutella toast.

  “Dad actually boasted about me to his friends, and one day he came home with a beat up guitar. I don’t know where he got it, flea market, likely. I guess I have my father to thank for something. My hands were too small, and I couldn’t do anything but mess around for a while, but I eventually grew into it. I never got any lessons. I figured out the basic chords and just taught myself by playing my favorite songs. There are a lot of guitar lessons posted on YouTube. Henni’s family had a computer, and I spent hours every Sunday afternoon practicing at her place, pretty much force feeding myself on those. That and the songwriting videos.”

  Katja paused to run a finger along the curves of her guitar. “I worked hard the summer I was sixteen, cooking bratwurst sausages at my neighbor’s stand in the park. I was too shy to sing in front of anyone at first, just played to myself in the privacy of my bedroom. I spent the summer evenings with Henni, watching the street musicians on Unter den Linden and how random strangers filled up their instrument cases with coins. I realized it was a way for me to make some money without standing on my feet all day in the summer heat.

  “The first time I did it was the result of a dare.” She glanced over her shoulder at the memory. “Henni and I were playing Truth or Dare with a bunch of the complex kids. She knew about my secret obsession and dared me to busk or to kiss chubby Bernhart Moser on the lips.”

  Micah laughed, and Katja hurried to conclude her story. “I chose busking, of course. She made me do it right that instant. I ran inside to get my guitar, and everyone followed me to the nearest pedestrians-only shopping street. I was scared to death but more afraid of kissing Bernhart. I closed my eyes and played and unbelievably, people tossed coins into my case. My friends cheered me on, and after that I was hooked. The next thing I knew I was trying out at all the open mic spots I could find. I met someone who helped me record in their home studio, and then I had CDs. It just kind of happened.”

  “Do you miss Berlin?”

  “The city? Sure.”

  “Not your family?”

  Katja closed her eyes, knowing where this conversation was headed. Micah continued before she could answer.

  “I have a business meeting coming up there next Saturday. I can go with my colleagues, Anna and Thomas, but…” He looked at her expectantly. “If you wanted to go, we could drive together. My meeting’s over at 1:00. We could swing by your home for an hour or so and be home that evening.”

  Katja’s heart jumped at the thought of going away with Micah, even if it was only a two hour drive north of Dresden, but then it plummeted again at the idea of going “home.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Katja.” His gaze softened, and he leaned closer. “It’s very difficult to have someone you care about go missing. Have you called your sister yet?”

  “Not yet, but I will.”

  “And you’ll go with me to Berlin?”

  Katja sighed. “Can I get back to you on that one?”

  Micah squeezed her knee. “Sure. Now sing me another song.”

  That night Micah entered the living room with clean sheets in his hands. “I’ve already changed the ones on my bed. Go ahead. I want you to sleep there.”

  Katja squinted. “Alone?”

  Micah smirked. “For now.”

  He was right, she supposed. It had taken them three months to get to their first kissing session, she shouldn’t expect him to sleep with her the first night they got together. Though she wouldn’t argue with him if he tried.

  “I can sleep here,” she said, pointing to the sofa. “I don’t want to kick you out of your bed.”

  Micah dropped the sheets and took her hand. “I want you in my bed. Believe me, it makes me very happy to know you’re there.”

  “But, why don’t you come, too?”

  Micah leaned back and ducked down. “Call me old-fashioned but I won’t sleep with a girl unless I’m committing my whole life. I don’t want a woman just for her body.”

  “Did you sleep with Greta?”

  Oh, God. Why did she just say that?

  Micah’s expression turned cold. He let her go. “I’m not the person I used to be. I thought you knew that.”

  He turned away, and she quickly reached for his hand. “Micah, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  His eyes grew soft, and he pulled her close again, resting his chin on her head. “It’s okay. Our situation is unusual.”

  No kidding.

  He tugged her to the sofa and pulled her on his lap. “Let me try to explain. After Greta disappeared, I did a lot of soul-searching. I took a long, hard look at myself, the kind of person I was, and I didn’t like what I saw. I quit drinking and doing drugs. Girls would come on to me, many of Greta’s friends, in fact. Why, I don’t know. Maybe to comfort me, but probably to conquer something that had belonged to a rival, but I wasn’t even tempted.”

  He shrugged. “I guess you could say I experienced a type of spiritual awakeni
ng. I prayed. I went to church. Somewhere along the line I’d heard this concept of soul ties.”

  “Soul ties?” Katja asked, feeling more confused than ever.

  “Yeah. People aren’t just flesh and blood. They’re soul and spirit, too. When two people join physically, they also join spiritually, creating a soul-tie with each other.”

  Katja couldn’t resist scoffing. “That’s crazy.”

  Micah’s expression stayed stoic. “I don’t think it is. In fact, it makes perfect sense to me. The more people you sleep with, the more soul ties you make. It explains why so many people are ridiculously screwed up, bringing a boatload of baggage into each new relationship. Think about it.”

  Katja was thinking about it, and she didn’t buy it.

  “What if I don’t believe in it?”

  “Then I hope you will be patient with me. Because I do.”

  Katja had no choice but to honor his beliefs. She agreed to go easy on him, though she wouldn’t stop him from doing anything if he tried. He had to exercise his own willpower.

  It was a peculiar kiss goodnight. Katja had changed into her nightshirt, and Micah wore his T-shirt and pajama pants. They were like two magnets with large, invisible hands trying to keep them apart, but their pull was so strong they kept snapping back together. They performed this awkward dance down the hall until they came to Micah’s room. She tugged on his shirt, but the doorway was like a force field Micah steadfastly refused to penetrate. He broke free of her grasp, leaving them both gasping like dying goldfish. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a loud raspy breath.

  “Goodnight, Katja!” He turned and practically ran down the hall until he disappeared.

  Katja held a hand to her chest. She didn’t know how they were going to survive night after night of this. It would take her a long time to calm down. She lay down and rolled over to face the other side of the bed.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room and landed on a sheet of paper attached to the wall. She recognized the size. It came from her sketch pad. She reached for the reading lamp and turned it on. She squinted and took in a short breath. It was her Sun & Moon drawing.

  Now that she knew what had been in the locked room, she understood why Micah had taken it down. That room represented Greta. The drawing represented her.

  He’d moved it to his room. Somehow it felt right. It made her glad.

  She felt her face pull into a relaxed smile, and eventually she fell asleep.

  Micah left early the next morning for work, before Katja was out of bed. This was normal, but she decided to wake earlier in the future so she could share breakfast with him and kiss him goodbye.

  She worked the nine-to-three shift at the coffee shop, and couldn’t have removed the smile from her face or the spring in her step to save her life.

  Renata laughed. “My guess is that handsome, young man is your boyfriend now.”

  Katja smiled like a fool. “He is, Renata, and I’m so happy. He’s kind, and thoughtful and a gentleman. And he’s hot!”

  Renata’s eyes sparkled, enjoying the bliss. “You’ve fallen hard, my young friend.”

  Katja wiped the counter with a damp cloth, trying to regain her composure, but the grin just wouldn’t leave her face. “I know. I’m in deep trouble.”

  Renata laughed louder.

  “What about you?” Katja ventured. Renata had told her about her failed marriage, but she’d been single for ten years.

  Renata shot her a puzzled look. “What about me?”

  “Isn’t it time you found love again?”

  Renata snorted. “Once is enough for me, thank you.”

  “But what if there was someone else? Wouldn’t you like to be in love again?”

  “Oh, goodness. I’m too old for that, I think.”

  “I don’t think so.” In fact, Katja had the perfect guy in mind. If only she could think of a way to introduce Renata to Maurice. “Just don’t rule it out. Life’s too short.”

  Renata laughed again and waved her away. “In love for one day, and now you’re the expert.”

  After work, Katja bought the groceries she and Micah needed for dinner. She put the food away, changed into clean clothes and freshened her makeup. Then she waited on the steps of the apartment building for Micah to arrive back from work. A warm flush of joy spread through her body when she spotted him walking toward her, and her face broke out into a huge smile. He sat beside her, and wove his fingers through hers before leaning in for a long, delicious kiss.

  It was a routine that repeated day after day. She’d wait for him on the building steps, and he’d sit with her and kiss her good on the lips until their famished state drove them inside. They’d have dinner and then make out on the sofa until they were panting and charged with so much chemistry and electricity that Katja thought they’d set the place on fire. She was certain Micah would break his personal vow and carry her to his room, but every night he stopped them before they went too far.

  She seriously wondered if she was going to have to wait for him to propose. Maybe she should move out (for real!), just for the sake of their sanity. Staying here with Micah night after night was torture.

  She almost brought up the idea, but the thought of leaving Micah’s flat was too painful. She’d just have to learn to deal.

  Katja had applied to participate in the folk music festival in Dresden a year ago. She knew they didn’t have a way of contacting her, so she used her new phone to call them, hoping to use the excuse that she wanted to update her contact info to remind them that she existed and to please, pretty please, let her play.

  She kept the begging to her imagination, but giving them her new phone number was a smart move. They called a week later. She was in.

  Katja excitedly told Micah about it when he got home from work. “Can you come?” she asked him.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “In fact, I’m going to invite my work colleagues.”

  “Are they musicians?” Katja asked.

  “You don’t have to be a musician to love music.”

  Katja realized she hadn’t even met any of Micah’s friends. He was new to Dresden, like she was, so he probably didn’t know a lot of people. And, until recently, he wasn’t exactly outgoing. She smiled to herself, knowing that she played a big part in his coming out of his shell. She liked this new Micah. Really, really liked him.

  Katja spent a few days stewing over what she should wear on stage. She didn’t have a large wardrobe and virtually no stage clothes, whatever that meant. A trip to the second hand store solved her problems. She found a great ankle-length, flouncy skirt and a white, cotton peasant blouse. She also picked up a head band and silver jewelry. With her leather strap sandals, she’d look the part of a seventies festival hippy, which, with her long, wavy hair, suited her and added to her artist brand.

  Micah grinned and pulled her into a frisky embrace when he saw her. “You’re my very own Janis Joplin.”

  The festival wasn’t within walking distance, so Micah drove them there, though they still had to park a good ways away. Micah offered to carry her guitar.

  “Man, this thing’s heavy!” he said, eyeing her. He reached for her biceps and squeezed, causing her to giggle and pull away.

  “That tickles!” she said.

  Micah smiled mischievously. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  When they arrived, they went through the special entrance just for artists and festival crew. Katja introduced herself and Micah to the organizer. He gave her an artist pass, and a plus-one pass for Micah, then filled her in on her time slot, and when she should be ready and waiting back stage.

  “This is kind of cool,” Micah said. “I feel like a groupie.”

  Katja threaded her arm through his. “You’re my groupie.”

  “That works for me,” he said. “From now on, you can introduce me as your personal groupie.”

  They entered the grounds with the rest of the festival goers and listened for a while to the act
playing on stage. It was a reggae band, and Katja grooved to the beat. Micah tugged on her arm and spoke into her ear. “Anna and Thomas are here.”

  In the throng of people, she couldn’t tell who he was pointing at. She followed him until they stopped in front of a guy and girl in their mid-twenties. For some reason Katja imagined Micah’s colleagues to be older and frumpier and boring.

  Thomas wore a tight shirt tucked into very slim pants. He shook Katja’s hand politely but his eyes didn’t register any interest. She got the impression he wasn’t into girls like her. Or girls at all, for that matter.

  Anna was young and stylish and not frumpy. She wore a very short summer dress with fashionable wedge-heeled sandals, and her auburn hair was pulled up in a high ponytail with a backcombed and heavily hair-sprayed bump on top.

  She looked like British royalty out to mingle with the common folk. Katja suddenly felt like the frumpy one and second-guessed her choice of wardrobe. What was she thinking?

  “Micah and I graduated from university in Hamburg together,” Anna said as she shook Katja’s hand. “Small world that we’d end up working at the same financial institution.” She smiled at Micah. “It’s so nice to have someone around everyday who enjoys talking about the markets.”

  Micah enjoys talking about the markets?

  Now, not only did she feel dressed like a peasant, she also felt uneducated. How long before Micah bored of their casual, lower-classed conversation? Micah came from wealth and academia. That was his world. She was from a different planet entirely.

  Suddenly her chest grew heavy like her ribs were caving in. No one else seemed aware of how the earth had just shifted. She refocused on the conversation between Micah and Anna, something about a business meeting in Berlin.

  Right. That was this Saturday.

  Anna laughed and patted Micah on the arm.

  “Micah and I are going together,” Katja heard herself say. “I have family there.”

  Anna’s face went blank. Micah glanced at Katja with interest. “So you’ve decided? For sure?”