by Beth Rinyu
“Evan! I thought you had that big meeting today,” I sat up in bed and exclaimed upon seeing him standing in the doorway of our bedroom with a bouquet of daisies cradled in his arm and a brown paper bag in the other hand.
“I did, but I was able to escape a little early.” He walked in farther and then took a seat on the bed. “I come with flowers and chicken soup. The perfect antidote for what ails you.”
“Please, don’t get too close. Trust me, you do not want to catch this.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, loosening his tie and then resting his lips on my forehead. “You’re burning up. When was the last time you took some Tylenol?”
I shrugged. “It was at least four hours ago.”
“I’ll be right back.” He placed the bag on the nightstand along with the flowers before standing up and exiting the bedroom. I picked up the bouquet and smiled. Daisies were my favorites. Oddly, I detested the smell of roses, also the fact that they were so clichéd. Daisies were my favorites, so whimsical, yet pretty without being overstated. Evan knew so many of my little quirks, so I was certain there were no traces of carrots in that chicken soup inside the bag. It was little things like that he just understood, silly little things that no man would ever know about me. Things I would never care to let any man know about me ever again.
CHAPTER 4
I AWOKE FROM my nap feeling somewhat refreshed, but if given the choice, I would fall back into bed and sleep for a full eight hours. I had forced breakfast down my throat, experienced my first Christmas market in Munich, and tried my first glühwein, which I wasn’t really impressed with. I held out until two and then parted ways with DeAndre and Theo when they were venturing off to Hofbrauhaus to sample their first German beer.
Kate and I headed back to the hotel, and together we were able to navigate the Munich subway system that the guys seemed to have mastered so well on the way there. Over breakfast, I had learned a little more about Kate and Theo. Turned out they weren’t husband and wife after all, they were brother and sister. We all got a good laugh over it when I had revealed my assumptions, the same way we had gotten a chuckle at Theo’s over DeAndre and me.
Theo worked for a telecommunications company and Kate was an architectural assistant. A pain shot through my heart, knowing she shared a career that closely mirrored my late husband’s, a fact I kept to myself in order to avoid a subject I didn’t want to talk about. To these people I was just a woman on vacation by herself. Not one who had lost her husband tragically. Not one who hated her life and herself every day since. I wanted to be someone who wasn’t looked at and pitied. Someone who appeared to have it together somewhat, if even for the next ten days.
I stood up and walked over to the hotel room window, taking in the partial view of the office building next door as well as the busy city street below. Pressing my head against the cool glass, I wondered what this street was like some eighty years ago when an evil regime overtook this place. Did the people just go on about their business the same way they were doing now? Did they live in constant fear that they’d be bombed and their lives would be taken away in a flash or with the longstanding terror that they may be turned in to the Gestapo for something that didn’t sit well with one of their neighbors?
Life would always be a matter of getting through one day at a time. It’s funny how that adage only applied in the bad times, never the good. It’s apparent when we are struggling that we must see each day as a victory, but why not when we’re happy as well? Why can’t we take each of the joyous days and savor each and every moment in the same way? Instead of realizing it too late.
I watched the people down below riding their bikes in the bitter cold, while others walked to get to their destination. I wondered where they were from, where they were going. Was their life happy or were they just merely getting by fairly unscathed? We all wished to be loved, and if lucky enough to be given the opportunity we’d love back with all we had. Then when that love faded away either by force or slowly over time, we all hurt in the same way. It was how we chose to deal with that pain that differed.
The daylight was gradually fading away, morphing into early evening, but my body and mind were still on New York time and the sleep I had missed out on the night prior. I yearned for my warm bed that had become the only safety I had known over the past few months. Just thinking about it got me homesick. What was I trying to prove by coming here? Did I think I was paying homage to Evan by going on a vacation we had planned together? Did I think that maybe he was somewhere watching over me, smiling at my courage to come here without him? In my mind that’s what I had hoped, instead of the alternative that was more than likely reality—he was hating me.
I stood staring aimlessly for some time until the last bits of daylight had faded away and the only light down below were the headlights of the cars. The meet-and-greet dinner was less than an hour away. My stomach churned with just the mere thought of it. I wasn’t sure if finding the psychical strength to shower and make myself presentable or gathering the emotional fortitude to be social with my fellow travelers would be harder.
The warm water from the shower streaming over my body made me feel somewhat human again. I towel dried my hair, allowing it to air dry in loose waves while I did my best to conceal my imperfections with a little makeup. I didn’t want to overdo it. I only planned on slipping downstairs, grabbing a bite to eat, saying the required “hellos,” then sneaking back to my room and into my pajamas for an early night. I grabbed the first pair of jeans I could locate in my suitcase, pairing them with my navy blue cable knit sweater. I gave myself one last look in the mirror, not really caring one way or the other, and made my way out of the room.
When I stepped off the elevator, Nino was standing outside the door of a room I could only assume dinner would be taking place in. “Welcome!” he said. Funny how an Italian accent on a man seemed like it could charm the pants off any woman. He was old enough to be my father, maybe even grandfather for that matter, yet I still found it appealing. “Grab yourself a glass of wine if you’d like.” He pointed to the table just outside the room containing a tray of glasses filled with white and red wine.
I decided on a glass of white and headed into the room where my fellow travelers awaited. It wasn’t fancy like I had excepted, more like a conference room set up for a luncheon. Six large round tables covered with white linen tablecloths filled the area. I didn’t count, but I’d estimate that there were ten chairs around each table with almost half of them filled. I scanned the area, trying to find the best place to sit. Table one consisted of a group of five girls who looked to be around my age along with a couple who were a painful reminder of who was supposed to be on this trip with me. I walked right past that table and examined the next.
A middle-aged woman with a girl in her early twenties, who I assumed was her daughter. Three sets of couples who appeared to have traveled together in a group and who weren’t willing to let anyone else into their conversation, as they excluded the presumed mother and daughter from it. I decided I’d take a seat there. I’d blend in and have casual conversation with these two ladies. That was until I heard DeAndre calling my name and theatrically waving his hands in the air—just when I was hoping to keep it low-key. I flashed the middle-aged woman whose table I was approaching an apologetic smile and headed toward DeAndre.
“Girl, you clean up well!” he shouted, giving the two older couples at his table a slight chuckle. He stood up and planted a kiss on my cheek, then pulled my chair out for me. My face heated and I wasn’t sure if it was from the few sips of wine I had taken or the unwanted attention DeAndre had cast upon me.
“Hello,” I gave a communal greeting to the couples at the table.
“This is Jillian,” DeAndre introduced before I could get any other words out. “Jillian, this is Mary and Chris.” He pointed to the dark-haired woman and the gray-haired man. “And this is Jean and Bob,” he advised, directing his attention to the short-haired woman with glasses and her hu
sband.
“So nice to meet all of you.” DeAndre finally allowed me to speak.
“And if you have any trouble remembering the names of my wife and I, just remember Merry Christmas,” the man named Chris said with a chuckle.
“That’s a really good way to remember.” I smiled, already knowing there was something about these two couples I really liked. “Let me guess…are you from Chicago?” His accent was a dead giveaway.
“Close. Wisconsin,” his wife, Mary, replied. “And you?”
“New York.”
“Oh, so you and DeAndre are both from New York,” the woman who was introduced as Jean chimed in as she took a sip of her wine. She was an older woman who exuded confidence.
“Yes.” I placed my hand on DeAndre’s shoulder and continued. “But DeAndre here is from the city…I am not.” I looked at him and grinned.
“Got ya!” Jean nodded as if she too knew the secret code of native New Yorkers like DeAndre.
I looked at the empty seat beside me, imagining that Evan was sitting there, wondering if he’d be drinking red or white wine. He’d always switch it up, never being partial to one over the other. He would no doubt be adding to the conversation, taking away from the awkwardness I always felt when engaging with strangers. I could see his smile and hear his deep laughter over something someone would say. He’d place his hand on my thigh underneath the table, offering me reassurance to gather up the courage to add to the discussion. Why couldn’t I see when he was here that we were okay as just a couple? We were once so happy with us being just two. Sure, I wanted a child more than anything, but why couldn’t I just accept that it wasn’t in the cards for us and have been content with the life I had been given with him? I came to that realization a little too late. Maybe it wasn’t Evan I had grown tired with but instead maybe it was with myself.
“Theo!” DeAndre bellowed, breaking me from my daydream as I stared up at Theo with a glass of red wine in his hand. He was dressed in a black button-up shirt and khaki pants. His unruly curls looking a little tamer than they had when I last saw him earlier that morning.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, locking eyes with me.
It took me a moment to reply because it was taken, but only in my heart. “Nope,” I finally answered. “Where’s Kate?” I asked once he sat down.
He paused anxiously, averting his gaze to the door. “She…umm, should be coming down. She wasn’t feeling too well.”
“Oh, no. I hope she’s not coming down with something. That would be an awful way to start a vacation.”
“I suppose it would.” His voice cracked. “But…” He shook his head. “I don’t think she is.” There was a sadness to his voice and his eyes. The same sadness I saw earlier when Kate had stepped out of the ladies’ room seeming out of sorts.
Theo introduced himself to our table mates and immediately struck up a conversation with them, the same way I had imagined Evan would’ve done. He seemed to have that same charisma Evan had possessed, the kind that captivated his audience and made everyone immediately feel comfortable in his company.
Dinner was a lot better than expected. As I thought from my first impression, the two older couples were a lot of fun. The two women were sisters, and this was the tenth trip they were traveling on together. I admired their sense of adventure, traveling to places I would’ve never dreamed of going, just for my fear of the unknown and my lack of adventure. But it was something Mary’s husband said that really got me thinking. “You only live once, you may as well see all you can while you can and not be afraid to take a chance on something new.”
He was right. My whole life I had lived by a rulebook. Go to college, get a job, get married, buy a house, have a child, live happily ever after. I had checked off all on my list except for two. I knew one of them would never be checked and I needed to accept that, but was it still possible for me to get a happily ever after, without Evan? Maybe my happily ever after didn’t need to include a husband and a child, maybe I could fall in love with traveling or a hobby. Maybe happily ever afters came in different forms than my preconceived notions. I liked to hold on to that. It gave me hope that maybe there was still a chance for me.
Kate hadn’t ventured down until we were well past dinner and on to dessert. She grabbed a cup of tea from the dessert table and sat in the empty seat next to her brother. Theo once again was caring and compassionate to his sister’s needs, asking her if she’d like something to eat. She shook her head and took a sip of her tea. DeAndre played table host, introducing her to everyone. I was certain that if something happened to the tour guide on this trip, DeAndre would be able to run the show with no problem with his vivacious personality.
Surprisingly, by the time dinner was over, I had gotten a second wind. My exhaustion from earlier had faded, and as I stood by the elevator waiting for the doors to open, I wasn’t ready to go back up to my room. I surveyed the small bar to the left of me and abandoned the elevator doors as they opened, heading to the bar instead. The area was pretty much empty with just one older man sitting around one of the small tables, plugging away on his laptop. The fireplace in the distance roared as silver bells played over the speakers, instantly putting me a little in the Christmas spirit, something I didn’t think possible this year…or any year going forward. Even though Evan and I weren’t in a good place in our marriage last Christmas, at least he was still here, living and breathing.
“Hello, what can I get you?” a pretty redhead with her hair slicked back in a tight bun asked with a thick German accent.
“Oh hello, I’ll have a pinot grigio, please.” I placed my phone on the bar as I waited for my wine and scrolled through Facebook. I hadn’t actively been on in months; with the exception of the travel group I had joined for solo travelers of the tour company I was using for this trip. It had been a godsend with answering questions and giving me the courage to move forward on this trip alone. I hadn’t realized that there were so many people who traveled alone. Just in our group there were five of us.
“Danke,” I said to the woman behind the bar as she placed my drink in front of me.
I was engrossed in a post from my friend Aimee when Kate took a seat next to me. “Care if I join you?” she asked.
“Oh no, not at all.” I put my phone back in my purse, happy to have some company. “How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Much better.” She ordered herself a club soda with lime, then continued. “I really passed out when we got back to the hotel, and now I’m wide awake.”
“Same here.” I lifted my glass to my lips and took a sip. “I didn’t want to even get up to come down for dinner, but now I have a second wind. I don’t know how people who travel a lot deal with this whole ‘time change’ stuff.”
“I was lucky in that respect; it was only an hour difference for me.”
“So, I’m assuming you’re from the same part of England as your brother?”
“Not too far. I work in London, so I’m a little bit closer than he is.”
“Doesn’t your brother work in London as well?”
“He does, but when his job doesn’t have him traveling the globe, he gets to work from home a lot.”
“Ah, the benefits of working remotely. It saves me from having to go into Manhattan so much.”
“I wish I had that luxury.” She stabbed the plastic stirrer into the lime in her drink. “But I suppose if I didn’t have to go into work, I’d never get out of my yoga pants.”
I gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “Is that a bad thing?” We both laughed.
“It also gives me an outlet for some adult conversation. I love my yoga pants and my baby, but sometimes it’s nice to get a little break from both.”
“Oh, you have a baby?” I creased my forehead, surprised by that news.
“I do,” she said solemnly.
“How old?”
“He just turned fourteen months.” She pulled her phone from her purse and tapped around on the screen. Her face lit up an
d she held her phone out to show me a photo of an auburn-haired little boy with rosy round cheeks and a huge smile.
“He’s a doll!”
“Thank you,” she whispered as she put her phone away.
In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder who was taking care of her child while she was here. Was her husband at home watching over him? Parents? I wanted to ask, but it wasn’t my business. The same way my personal life wasn’t any of hers. We were to be mere acquaintances for the next ten days and after that we would go back to our lives and never hear from each other again. So, I was perfectly fine with casual conversation. Beyond that, I didn’t really need or care to know.
“So, have you ever been to America?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“I have three times actually. Twice to New York and once to Los Angeles.”
After finishing my first glass of wine, I ordered another. Kate finished her club soda, then ordered a glass of wine as well. As the time passed, I found myself opening up to her in ways I said I wasn’t going to do. I told her about my father leaving me as a child, and how I never quite felt like I fit in with my new family, which consisted of my mother, stepfather, and the two children she had with him. I went even further by telling her how my father had come back into my life a few years ago expecting a reunion, and how I fiercely rejected him. I had shared more with her than I normally would with anyone, but my guard was still up with the most important part of my life—my marriage. That was something I wasn’t willing to speak of with anyone. I was thankful she didn’t ask, allowing me to divulge only what I chose to her. I was certain the wine was aiding in my endless chatter, but there was something about Kate that made me feel so comfortable in her presence. She divulged a little about herself to me as well. She was twenty-nine years old and a single mom. Like me, her father left when she was very young, and her mother passed away when she was fourteen. Her brother, who was nine years older than her, had stepped up and become more of a parent figure to her.
