Wait for Me in Vienna

by May, Lana N.

  Johanna looked at him questioningly.

  “Well, I loved to go scuba diving. My logic went something like this: I couldn’t possibly eat what I wanted to see underwater, because if I ate it, it wouldn’t be there anymore. What would I be able to see underwater then?”

  “Very logical for a child . . .”

  “Well, as I slurped up my spaghetti, I laughed for some unknown reason, which made the noodles stick in my throat.” He paused briefly. “After that, everything went south. I couldn’t breathe, which was quite perplexing to me, and then I threw up. The table, which had been beautifully decorated with violets, was covered in spaghetti-sauce vomit.” He told the story succinctly, leaving out extraneous details. “The noodles came out through my nose.”

  Johanna tried desperately to keep herself from laughing, but she couldn’t; tears of laughter streamed down her face.

  “Well, no one knew what to say or whether they should laugh or not. I think my parents were mortified. But I was just a kid, and as you know, you have to indulge children no matter what!”

  Johanna laughed until her sides ached and she started to snort, which attracted the attention of other guests to their table. She could imagine Thomas as a little boy with messy hair and a rascally smile who ran around constantly or climbed trees, who sometimes got a scratch but never cried. She gazed at his dimples and his flawless teeth. He could be in an ad for an orthodontist’s office. Honestly, Thomas was so handsome that she asked herself what he wanted from her. He’s the type who could have a model as a girlfriend, she thought anxiously, and knocked over her glass of water.

  “Thank goodness, just water! Wait a second; we’ll take care of it right away.” He pulled out a handkerchief from his black leather briefcase, then carefully dabbed her arm and the surface of the table.

  As he did, she noticed his fingers weren’t perfect. They seemed to be slightly misshapen. Johanna was relieved to have found at least one little flaw, but other than that, she thought he was perfect. If asked, he could have pointed out several of his other flaws immediately: his ears stuck out a little, almost imperceptibly, but they weren’t perfect. His hair had a tendency to be oily, so he had to wash it every day. He had a scar on his right knee from an accident—that was the defect that bothered Thomas the least, but naturally, Johanna didn’t notice it. Thomas was perfect just the way he was.

  “So, what else do you do?” asked Thomas as he took out a second handkerchief to stop the water from running off the tabletop.

  “Actually not much, I haven’t been here very long. I got sick of living in the country and decided to move to the city,” Johanna explained, knowing that this wasn’t entirely truthful, but she didn’t want to talk about her past.

  She wasn’t in the mood to tell her tale of woe right now, and she didn’t want to be labeled as a poor, pitiful thing. They were having a fun, relaxing evening, and it wasn’t the right time to talk about such tragedies. Their date was going so well, not at all boring like it had been in the beginning. They were having an excellent time together. Thomas hadn’t had this kind of rapport with a woman in a long time.

  “Well, I mean, what do you do in your free time?”

  Johanna thought it over. Except for cooking, she didn’t have any other real hobbies. She thought that was somewhat sad.

  “Cooking,” she said, and laughed.

  Suddenly, Thomas’s phone started ringing, and the other patrons looked at them irritably. He’d left it set to a reasonable volume, but it seemed loud as it blared through the quiet café. Thomas peeked at the display. It was Clarissa. He turned off the ringer.

  “How would you like to go to a concert with me, so that you have something to do besides cook?” He had two tickets for a Travis concert, and Clarissa wasn’t in town.

  “When?”

  “In two days,” he said as he gazed at her expectantly.

  Johanna paused deliberately, biting back the desire to answer like a bullet shooting out of a gun.

  After a few suspenseful moments, she finally said yes.

  Less than two minutes later, they exchanged cell phone numbers.

  16

  Those were two of the slowest days of Johanna’s life. But for Thomas, they went quickly, too quickly. Johanna didn’t have much to do. She reviewed the entire evening with Thomas while she organized and cleaned the apartment’s bookshelf five times. She cleaned the kitchen three times and took ten minutes to iron Martin’s shirt. She made her bed three times. She tried to imagine Thomas and what he did, what he thought about her, whether he wanted to kiss her, whether he was a good kisser. She closed her eyes. She had to lie down on the bed for a moment. Her daydream took her away, and she wanted to enjoy it completely. She forgot all about Daniel and thought only about Thomas.

  Thomas called Martin to help him test-drive a new car, a BMW.

  “Damn, this thing just flies!” Martin exclaimed. “It’s a pretty cool car, really sharp.”

  Thomas was excited. He liked the BMW; the design suited his tastes exactly.

  “I think I’m going to get it,” he grinned as he accelerated, easily overtaking the slower cars on the highway that seemed to be creeping along; maybe they all had boring, law-abiding drivers behind the wheel.

  “Linda and I are thinking of going to a spa next weekend. You and Clarissa want to come?”

  Thomas stepped on the gas. “I don’t know exactly what to say. I don’t think Clarissa and I are going to be together much longer,” he said.

  Martin looked at him with astonishment. “The other girl?”

  Thomas nodded. “Possibly, but I don’t know her that well yet. I’m taking her to a concert tomorrow. I like her; she’s got something that’s really attractive to me.”

  Thomas put on his turn signal and headed for a rest stop.

  “You mean her appearance?”

  “No. It’s really just how she moves, how she speaks, her smile, her eyes. I can’t quite tell you exactly what it is. She’s just the total package.”

  “But you know that you’re putting everything you have with Clarissa at risk. I mean, if you break up with her and the new relationship doesn’t go anywhere, then you’ll be all alone. Don’t rush into anything.”

  Thomas sighed. He knew all that.

  “Besides, there are always lulls in any relationship; things can’t go well all the time. Maybe you and Clarissa just need a change of scenery, a vacation.”

  At the rest stop, they swapped places so that Martin could drive a bit. Thomas thought about it. He’d had a stable relationship with Clarissa for over two years now, but was that a good enough reason to stay with her when he wasn’t happy? He wasn’t that old and set in his ways yet. Sex wasn’t everything, either. He still had time to take some risks and do something new and daring. He was no coward.

  “Wow, this thing drives so well. I’d love to get one, too.” Martin started to mentally extrapolate how he would finance the car over ten years. Once he did the math, he instantly discarded the idea of purchasing the new, hot car and decided to stick with his old Audi for a while. He was pretty attached to it, it was reliable, and rejecting it based on old age alone didn’t make financial sense.

  “You can borrow it any time.”

  They traded places again, then Thomas took another spin around the city. He managed to make it back to the dealership without getting a ticket.

  “Looks like I’m going to buy it!” Thomas said to the car salesman. He signed all the necessary paperwork, paid, and got the keys.

  “So, things didn’t work out with Daniel?” Linda asked in amazement. She had called Johanna.

  “No, the night was kind of a bust, and we haven’t been in contact since then. He’s not right for me.”

  “I’m sorry about that. How are you dealing with it?”

  “Pretty well.”

  Linda was worried beca
use it wasn’t easy to lure Johanna out of her shell. Daniel seemed to have done it to some extent because Johanna certainly seemed happier and in a better mood these days. Linda decided to talk to Martin about it; she was afraid his sister might get depressed again.

  “Are you going to celebrate All Saints’ with Martin and me? We’re going back home.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Linda in surprise.

  “We wanted to put some candles on the graves over at the cemetery.”

  “Oh, okay, um, Martin hadn’t mentioned that. I don’t know whether that’s going to work, since I should really drive out to see my parents. I’ll talk it over with Martin.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll see each other this week, right?”

  “Of course, I’m coming over tomorrow evening.”

  “I won’t be there tomorrow. I’m going to a concert.”

  “Oh, no problem. Have a great evening.”

  “You, too. Ciao.”

  17

  Thomas had just gotten off the phone with Clarissa when his uncle came into his office.

  “I’d like to speak with you, Thomas,” Mr. Lehmann said.

  “Sure, what’s going on? Wait a second, I just need to save a document . . .”

  His uncle sat on Thomas’s luxurious couch, prominently placed in his office. The brown velvet couch was very comfortable and stood out in the otherwise modest office. Thomas had spotted it while on vacation in Italy and had it shipped back. He found that Italian designs, both in clothing and in furniture, almost always suited his sophisticated tastes.

  “Okay, all set,” Thomas said, and sat down on the upholstered chair across from his uncle.

  “The company’s doing really well these days . . .”

  Thomas nodded; he knew that.

  “And in order to stay competitive, we must expand.” He paused briefly, touched his designer horn-rimmed glasses, and went on. “As we’ve already talked about, I would like to open a branch office in New York.”

  This wasn’t a surprise to Thomas. It had been a hot topic around the company for a while now.

  “I would like you to open the new office, Thomas, and stay there for a while until everything’s running smoothly. Of course, you could stay permanently if you’d like, but this is your decision. I believe your mother would take exception if I forced you to stay abroad, and I would prefer not to tangle with her.”

  Thomas nodded pensively.

  “Tomorrow we’re having a presentation about suitable office sites. I can show you the market-research results; they are unambiguous. It’s time for us to expand; we can significantly increase our annual gross revenue. And if we don’t do it within the next six months, our competitors will. Sooner or later, we’ll start to lose market share.”

  “Yes, I understand completely.”

  “Isn’t Clarissa already in New York?”

  “Well, she’s in Barcelona right now, but I believe she’s got work lined up in New York after that.”

  “Wonderful. I’m sure she can be persuaded to stay a while longer.”

  Thomas knew what that meant. He had a bad feeling about all this; his stomach started to ache.

  The afternoon before her concert date, Johanna was so excited she could barely sit still. She rode her bike through the city center. The leaves on the street were wet and soggy. After a long absence, the sun hung low in the autumn sky. It had been a long, energy-sapping haul without sunshine. Most mornings started out shrouded in fog, then the mist would partially dissipate around ten o’clock, leaving Vienna looking quite gloomy—like the perfect backdrop for a thriller. Johanna hoped that the mild weather would continue for a while. She often became quite depressed during the winter, and late November could be terrible, too, with fog hanging over the landscape and endless days without a ray of sunlight. A doctor had written her a prescription for antidepressants, but she just couldn’t bring herself to take them. She could manage without them, and at that time of year, survival was the best she could hope for. She simply endured the cold, dark winters. Christmas was the hardest part.

  Johanna finished up her shopping for the cooking school and took everything over to Paolo’s place. He would take the supplies to work with him later.

  “Chef Geyer said she wants to give you more hours!” he blurted out; he’d been dying to tell her.

  “Really?” Johanna was thrilled, especially since she needed the money right now. Her savings were being rapidly depleted, she had plenty of free time, and she really liked working at the cooking school.

  “Yes! She’s going to talk to you about it tomorrow. Of course, I immediately told her I was in favor of it,” Paolo said as he took the second shopping bag Johanna handed him. “Do you want to come in?”

  She’d never been to his place before; she ventured inside. The apartment was far more normal than she had expected. She’d envisioned unusual pieces of furniture: glittery décor, silk fabrics, and ultramodern, shiny metal alloys.

  “Welcome to my modest little kingdom,” he said and showed her around. “This is my pride and joy,” he said as he pointed to a dark-brown wooden table in the middle of the dining room. It could seat six easily.

  “Of course, my kitchen is nothing to sneeze at. I call it my Porsche kitchen,” he exclaimed proudly. “Everything’s laid out just right.” He showed off his organized kitchen by opening cabinet doors and drawers.

  Johanna nodded as she admired his splendidly equipped kitchen.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  She nodded and sat down on one of the comfortably padded wooden chairs. Paolo offered her some cookies, too.

  “Sorry, not homemade. How was your date?” he asked as he stirred two teaspoons of sugar into his small orange ceramic cup.

  Johanna smiled. “Good.”

  “Don’t make me drag it out of you. Did you see Daniel again?”

  “No, somebody else. Daniel is out of the picture.”

  “What? Really? So fast? So you went out with a new guy? Oh, I wish things like that would happen to me once in a while; I can only dream about them these days.”

  Paolo felt depressed as he took a sip of his hot coffee, burning his tongue. He made this mistake on a regular basis; he just couldn’t bring himself to wait until his coffee cooled off a bit. Maybe he should check the settings on his coffee machine; the water did seem abnormally hot.

  “Take a cookie, it won’t hurt you.”

  Johanna took one.

  “You know, I’m currently watching my weight. I’ve gained about five pounds that I’d like to lose,” Paolo said, his face darkening as he pushed away the enemy—the plate of cookies. “That always happens to me when I’m single . . . oh well. So what’s up with this new guy?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Johanna said as she took a second cookie. “But we’re going to a concert tonight,” she squealed, unable to hide her excitement any longer.

  Thomas furrowed his brow as he spun around again in his office chair. New York, a chance that he’d been waiting for all his life. He imagined himself working on exciting projects there. He had an entrepreneurial spirit; practically everything he touched turned to gold. Mr. Lehmann didn’t believe in nepotism. He offered jobs and promotions based on his employees’ abilities and nothing else. He’d offered his nephew the New York position because he knew about his aptitude for business.

  Right now, though, living with Clarissa in New York seemed like a terrible plan. But Thomas didn’t know Johanna very well, either. Should he give up a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity for a new woman? Maybe he should break up with Clarissa, then get a fresh start in New York, which would also mean that he shouldn’t start anything with Johanna. It was a sensible plan, but for some reason, it didn’t make him happy.

  “We should make sure to leave at a decent hour tomorrow morning,” Johanna said to Martin. He had pro
mised her that they would take a trip to the cemetery for the holiday.

  “Okay. Linda’s not coming; she’s going home to see her folks. But we’ll have a nice day together. Sound good?”

  “Yes, sounds good,” she trilled nervously.

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a date with someone this evening.”

  “Who?”

  “A very nice man.”

  “Daniel?”

  Johanna shook her head emphatically.

  “Somebody else?”

  “Yes.”

  Martin was getting on her nerves. My brother should have become a detective, she thought, ducking out of the room to escape further interrogation.

  “Okay, okay. You can tell me tomorrow how your evening went.”

  Martin was glad there was someone new in his sister’s life. He’d never seen her in such high spirits. He’d been worried, because Linda had expressed her concerns to him about Johanna and Daniel’s last evening together, but maybe things were looking up.

  Outside the concert hall, a long, colorfully coiffed line of people formed, reflecting the kaleidoscope of hues on L’Oreal’s hair color chart. At the front of the line, young teenage couples were entwined like live bait on a hook, gazing at each other or kissing like there was no tomorrow. Their worried parents looked on disapprovingly, hoping they wouldn’t become grandparents too soon and unsure if they should purchase expensive last-minute concert tickets for themselves so they could chaperone. Behind them were slightly older concertgoers: older teenagers, young adults, and double-income-no-kids couples. Those couples acted in a more civilized, if less passionate, manner. Thomas stood inconspicuously amid the old and young crowds.