The Ring

by Steel, Danielle

  But there had been something tragic about her as well, as though there was something missing. And when Noel had questioned her seriously about it once, she had said, You're right. My family is missing, Noel. My father lives in his own world None of us matters to him ' only ' the past ' the others ' the people he lost in another lifetime' . We, the living ' we don't count. Not to him. And then she had said something cynical and funny, but he had never forgotten the look in her eyes it was an expression of sorrow and loss and desolation well beyond her years. And now Noel wanted to see her, and he was bitterly disappointed when he learned that she was out of town.

  As a consolation he took himself out for a big dinner, with drinks at La Tour d'Argent, and dinner at Maxim's. He had promised himself he'd do that before he left Paris, and now he wasn't going to be able to do it with Brigitte. But now the had the extra leisure time for the fancy dinner, and he enjoyed it thoroughly as he watched the elegant French women and their rather dapper-looking men. He noticed how different the styles were here, how much more cosmopolitan people seemed. He liked the looks of the women, the way they moved, the way they dressed, the way they did their hair. In a way, they reminded him of his mother. There was a finished quality about the way they put themselves together that pleased the eye, an extra touch, a something subtle but sexy, like a flower hidden in a garden; it didn't assault the senses, but one sensed instantly that it was there. Noel liked the subtlety of these women; it evoked something in him that he had never known was really there.

  The next morning he left for Orly very early, caught his flight to Berlin, and landed at Tempelhof airport, his heart beating with excitement and anticipation. It wasn't a sensation of homecoming, but of discovery, of finding the answers to secrets long unspoken, of tracing people who had long since vanished, where they had been, where they had lived, what they had been and meant to each other. Somehow, Noel knew that the answers would all be there.

  He left his things at the Hotel Kempinski, where he had made a reservation, and as he walked out of the lobby, he looked up and down the Kurf++rstendamm for a long time. This was the street Max had told him about where writers and artists and intellectuals had congregated for decades. Around him he could see caf+!s and shops, and swirls of people walking along arm in arm. There was a festive feeling around him, as though they had all been waiting, as though it had been time for him to come.

  With a map and a rented car he set out slowly. He had already seen the remains of the Maria Regina Kirche where he knew his parents had been married. What was left of it still stood there, pointing emptily at the sky. He remembered his mother's description of when they had bombed it, and now it remained, a shattered memory of another time. Most of Berlin showed none of the scars, the damage had all been repaired, but here and there were shells of buildings, monuments to that troubled time. He drove slowly past the Anhalter Station, which also stood in ruins, too, then on to the Philharmonic Hall, and then he walked through the Tiergarten to the Victory Column, which stood as it always had, and Bellevue Palace just beyond it, which was as beautiful as Max said it was. And then beyond that Noel came to a sudden halt. There it stood, gleaming in the sunlight, the Reichstag, which had been Nazi headquarters, located on what they now called the Strasse des 17 Tury, the building his father had died defending. Around him, other tourists also gazed at it in silent awe.

  To Noel this was no monument to the Nazis; this had nothing to do with history, or politics, or a little man with a mustache who had had an insatiable desire to control the world. This had to do with a man whom Noel had always suspected had been very much like him, the man who had loved his mother, and whom Noel had never known. He remembered his mother's description of that morning ' the explosions, the soldiers, the refugees, and the destruction of the bombs ' and then she had seen his father dead. As Noel stood there, a quiet path of tears coursed down his face. He cried for himself and for Ariana, feeling her pain as she had stood there, looking into his father's lifeless face lying in a stack of bodies on the gutted street. How in God's name had she survived it?

  Noel quietly walked away from the Reichstag, and it was then that he caught his first glimpse of the Wall; solid, intransigent, determined, it wended its way across Berlin, to one side of the Reichstag and cutting right through the Brandenburg Gate, turning the once flourishing Unter den Linden into a dead end. He looked at it in interested silence, curious about what lay beyond. This was something that neither Max nor his mother had ever experienced, the Wall that had left a divided Berlin. Later in his stay he would go there, to see the Marienkirche, the City Hall, and the Dom. He understood that there were many untouched ruins there, too. But first there were other places he wanted to visit, places he had come to see.

  With his map on the seat of the Volkswagen he'd rented, he drove from the heart of the city around the Olympic stadium, out to Charlottenburg, where he stopped for a moment by the lake and looked at the schloss. And though he could not know it, this was exactly the place where thirty-five years before his grandmother Kassandra von Gotthard had stood with the man she loved, Dolff Sterne.

  From Charlottenburg he drove to Spandau, staring at the great citadel in fascination and getting out to inspect the famous doors. There, the helmets of countless wars were carved in great detail, from the Middle Ages until the last panel, which bore the legend 1939. The prison held only one prisoner, Rudolf Hess, who was costing the city government more than four hundred thousand dollars a year to keep. And from Spandau he drove to Grunewald, driving along the lake, looking at all the houses, and searching for the address he had gotten from Max. He had wanted to ask his mother, but when the time had come, he hadn't dared. Max had given him the directions and told him briefly how lovely the house had been, and once again he had told him the story of how Noel's grandfather had saved Max's life when he was fleeing the country, how he had cut the two priceless paintings from the walls where they hung, rolled them up, and handed them to his friend.

  At first Noel thought he had missed it, but then suddenly he saw the gates. They had changed not at all from Max's description, and as Noel got out of the car and peered in, a gardener waved.

  Bitte? Noel's German was very rusty. He knew only what he had learned at Harvard in three semesters several years before. But somehow he managed to explain to the old man tending the gardens that long ago this had been his grandfather's house.

  Ja? The man eyed him with interest.

  Ja. Walmar von Gotthard. Noel said it proudly end the man smiled, shrugging. He had never heard the name. An old woman appeared, admonishing the gardener to hurry, the madam would be back from her trip the next evening.

  Smiling, the old man explained to his wife why Noel had come there, and looking at him with suspicion, she then stared back at the old man. At first the woman hesitated, but after a moment she grudgingly nodded her head and gestured toward Noel. He looked at the old man questioning, not sure he had understood them.

  But the old man was smiling as he took Noel's arm. She will let you look around.

  Inside the house?

  Yes. The old man smiled gently. He understood. It was nice that this young American cared enough about his grandfather's country to come back. So many of them had forgotten where they came from. So many of them knew nothing of what had happened before the war. But this one seemed different, and it pleased the old man.

  In some ways the house looked very different than he had expected, and in others it looked precisely like Ariana's memories of when she was a child, memories she had shared with him constantly through the years. The third floor, where she had lived with her nurse and her brother, still looked as she had described it. The large room that had been their playroom, the two bedrooms, the large bathroom the children had shared. Now it stood made into guestrooms, but Noel could still see exactly where his mother had lived. On the floor beneath that, much seemed to have changed. There seemed to be lots of smaller bedrooms, sitting rooms, libraries, a sewing room, and a small room fille
d with toys. Obviously the house had been remodeled, and there was little trace of the past. The downstairs still remained impressive and somewhat stuffy. But Noel could more easily imagine his grandfather presiding over the large dining room table in huge hall. He thought fleetingly of a Nazi general cavorting there with his girls, but quickly dismissed the image from his mind.

  He thanked the old couple profusely before he left them, and took a photograph of the house from the spot where he had left his car. Maybe he could get Tammy to do a sketch from the photograph, and he could give it to his mother sometime. The thought pleased him as he drove along to the Grunewald cemetery, where it took him a long time to find the family plot. But there they were, the aunts and the uncles, the great-grandparents; all with names and histories he did not know. The only one that was familiar was that of his grandmother Kassandra von Gotthard. It touched him that she had been only thirty and he wondered briefly how she had died.

  There were things that his mother still had not told him things that he did not need to know. Like the truth about her mother's suicide, which was something that had always disturbed Ariana a great deal. And the fact that she herself had briefly been married to Paul Liebman. She didn't feel Noel needed to know that either. By the time he was old enough to understand things, she and Max had decided that it was a closed chapter in Ariana's life, and one of which her son did not need to be apprised.

  Noel wandered slowly through the cemetery, looking at the peaceful green mounds, and then at last he got back into his car and drove out toward Wannsee, but this time he struck out. The house whose address he still vaguely remembered from his mother's stories was no longer there. Instead, there were neat rows of modern buildings. The house where she had lived with Manfred was gone.

  He stayed on in Berlin for another three days then, journeying back to Grunewald once, and to Wannsee, but spending most of his time on the other side of the Wall. The eastern side of Berlin fascinated Noel how different the people were, how barren their faces, how bleak their stores. It was his first and only view of communism, and this was far more real to him than the faded ghosts of the Nazis, which some had attempted to keep alive.

  After Berlin he went to Dresden, and went to the few places he knew of there. Mostly he was interested in the schloss for which his mother had been given restitution. He knew only that it was used now as a small country museum where they gave occasional tours. On the day that he reached it, it was all but deserted, blessed with only one sleeping guard. It was dark and somewhat dreary, the furnishings sparse, most having been removed, a plaque said, during the war. But here again, as he had in Grunewald, he could reach out and touch the same walls that his father had touched as a boy. It was a strange, thrilling feeling to look out the same windows, stand in the same doorways, touch the same doorknobs, breathe the same air. This might have been the house of his boyhood, if he had not lived instead on East Seventy-seventh Street in New York. And as he left the house, the guard smiled at Noel from the chair where he sat watching.

  Auf Wiedersehen.

  Without thinking, Noel smiled at him and murmured, Goodbye.

  But instead of being depressed by his visits, in an odd, wonderful way, he felt finally free. Free of the questions, of the empty places that they had seen and he hadn't. Now he had seen them all, too. He had seen them as they were now, as part of the present, as part of his times, not of theirs, not as they had been. Now they were a part of his life, and he felt he understood them, and now he felt freer than ever to be himself.

  He had the time he needed to put the past into perspective, to understand his mother even more, how much she had endured, how strong she was. He vowed he'd do all he could to make her proud of him for the rest of his life.

  He got off the plane at Kennedy Airport, looking relaxed and happy, and for a long moment held his mother tightly in his arms. No matter what he had seen, or how much some of it had meant to him, there was no doubt in his mind whatever, this was home.

  Chapter 47

  Well, guys, when's the wedding? On his return Noel had found his own apartment, in the east Fifties, over, looking the East River, and cozily located near an assortment of friendly neighborhood bars. He still liked to go drinking with his law school buddies, and his playtime hadn't entirely come to an end, even with his first job. But he was not quite twenty-six yet, and Max and Ariana knew he had time to settle down. Have you set a date yet? It was the first dinner they had shared since he had moved out, and Max's bathrobe had been appearing more regularly on the back of Ariana's bedroom door.

  Well. She smiled at Max and then at Noel. We were thinking about Christmas. How does that sound to you?

  Wonderful. We can do it before my birthday. And then he smiled shyly. Will it be a big wedding?

  No, of course not. Ariana shook her head, laughing. Not at our age. Just a few friends. But as she said it, there was a faraway look in her eye. For the third time in her life, she was getting married and the memories of her lost family flashed across her heart and her mind. Noel looked at her and seemed to sense her thoughts. Since his trip to Europe they had been even closer than before. It was as though now he knew. They seldom spoke of it, but the new bond was there.

  I was wondering if I could bring a friend to the wedding, Mother. Would that be all right?

  Of course, darling. Ariana was instantly smiling. Anyone we know?

  Yes. You met her this summer, at my graduation. Remember Tammy? He tried so desperately to look nonchalant, but instead looked so nervous as he said it that Max couldn't suppress a laugh.

  The ravishing Rapunzel with the long black hair, if I'm not mistaken. Tamara, yes?

  Yes. He looked gratefully at Max and his mother smiled.

  I remember her, too. The young law student she was just finishing her first year.

  Right Well, shell be down to see her parents over Christmas, and I just thought ' I mean ' she'd enjoy the wedding.

  Of course, Noel. Of course. Max got him off the hook quickly by changing the subject, but the look on Noel's face had not escaped Ariana. That night she turned to Max before they went to bed.

  You don't suppose he's serious, do you? She looked worried, and Max smiled gently and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  He might be, but I doubt it I don't really think he's ready to settle down.

  I hope not. He isn't even twenty-six. Max Thomas grinned at the woman he was soon to marry.

  And how old were you when you had him?

  That was different, Max. I may only have been twenty, but that was wartime, and

  Do you really think you would have stayed single until you were twenty-six if there hadn't been a war? On the contrary, I think you'd have married in no time at all.

  Oh, Max, that was another world. Another life! For a long moment they said nothing and then quietly she joined him in the bed and took him in her arms. She needed him now, to ward off the memories and the pain. And he knew it too. Tell me, Ariana, after all these years, will you take my name?

  She looked at him in astonishment. Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?

  I don't know. He shrugged. These days women are so independent. I thought maybe you'd prefer to stay Ariana Tripp.

  I'd prefer to be your wife, Max, and to be Mrs. Thomas. And then she smiled slowly, It really is time.

  What I like about you, Ariana, he said gently as his hands caressed her body beneath the sheets, is that you make such quick decisions. It's only taken you twenty-five years. But then she laughed softly at him. The tinkling laugh of crystal had not changed since she was a girl, nor had the passion with which she received him, startled as always by the thrust of his desire as he took her and held her and filled her with his love.

  Chapter 48

  And do you, Maximilian, take this woman to be ' The ceremony was brief and lovely, and Noel watched them with tears in his eyes, grateful that, as tall as he was, few people could notice if his lashes were damp. You may kiss the bride. They kissed for a long moment, obv
iously enjoying it more than they should. The friends they had invited giggled, and Noel tapped Max on the shoulder and smiled.

  Okay, you two, break it up. The honeymoon is in Italy. This is only the reception. Max turned to him with a long smile of amusement and Ariana grinned and smoothed a hand over her hair.

  They had decided to hold the wedding and the reception at the Carlyle. It was close to the house and there was a lovely room available that was just the right size. They had, in the end, invited almost forty people for the ceremony and a formal luncheon, and a small quartet was already playing for those who wanted to dance.

  May I, Mother? I think the first dance is supposed to be between the bride and her father, but maybe you'll accept this modern variation on the theme.

  I'd be delighted. He bowed and she took his arm and slowly they moved onto the floor for a graceful waltz. He danced as impeccably as had his father, and Ariana wondered if it was simply in his genes. The boy had a fluid grace of movement that was irresistible to almost any female watching him make his way smoothly around the floor. As she looked happily past him at her new husband, Ariana saw Tammy, standing quietly in a corner, her black hair wound neatly in a knot, wearing small diamond earrings and a pretty black wool dress.

  Will you look at those two? Noel was smiling at his mother as Tammy stood by. She felt faintly uncomfortable in the crowd of strangers, but she was always happy at Noel's side. It was odd to see him here though. She was so used to seeing him in blue jeans and turtleneck sweaters, playing touch football with his friends in Harvard Yard. He had already been up to see her twice this winter, and she had just told him what she had in mind.

  What do you think, Noel?

  About what? He was smiling distractedly at his mother from where he stood.

  You know about what.

  About your transferring to Columbia? I think you're out of your mind. You have a chance at a Harvard Law degree, kiddo. That's quite a piece of paper to throw away for a piece of ass.