Sun & Moon: An Inspirational Contemporary Romance (A Guitar Girl Romance Book 1)

by Hope Franke

  They weren’t completely safe, but they were safer.

  They stopped at a small market to pick up a few groceries: buns, shaved meat and a block of cheese, a cucumber and a tomato, and they returned to their flat for a light lunch. Gisela was quiet, clearly drained from the morning excursion. Katja’s mind kept drifting to Micah despite her efforts to forget about him. She checked her phone and saw he’d called again and left three more text messages. Katja swallowed hard. A part of her wanted to call him back, but their breakup was for the best. She was needed here now. She erased all his messages.

  After lunch, Gisela lay down, and Katja decided she had enough time to visit a legal service agency before picking up Sibylle from school.

  It was a no-nonsense office on the bottom floor of an old three-story building. Katja told the receptionist why she was there and was in turn told to take a seat. There was a stack of magazines on the end table, but she didn’t feel like reading. She checked her phone and stared at the two new messages since lunch. Eventually, he’d give up. He had to see that this was the best thing in the long run. For both of them.

  Certainly his mother must be ecstatic. Micah had said she hadn’t liked Greta either, but that was where the similarities ended, at least the ones that mattered to people like Frau Sturm. Greta came from a good home. Her family, though not as well off as the Sturms, had money. If Frau Sturm hadn’t liked Greta before, she’d probably had a change of heart since meeting Katja.

  “Frau Stoltz?”

  The lawyer was shorter than Katja, with short grey hair, a soft belly and a friendly smile. She held out her hand. “I’m Frau Fullermann.”

  Katja followed Frau Fullermann into her office and sat in the chair opposite the plain, tidy desk. “How can I assist you?” she asked.

  Katja relayed her family’s situation. “I’m concerned about my sister. I wouldn’t want her taken from us because of all of this.”

  “Horst Bergmann is her biological father?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suspect your sister will be assigned a social worker shortly. If you can prove that you and your mother have the financial means to support her, and that her dwelling place is acceptable and safe, then the social worker will most likely recommend that she remain where she is. Her father may demand to visit her, but we can put in a formal request that visitations occur away from the family home, and in a secure place with the accompaniment of the social worker.”

  Katja felt sure that with the apartment cleaned up, the dwelling requirements would be met. But finances were another thing. The main reason her mother had put up with Horst all these years was because he’d had a steady job. Now that he was unemployed, that money wasn’t coming in anyway. Katja pursed her lips. She had to get a job and quick.

  “Thank you, Frau Fullermann. You’ve given me the information I need.”

  “Don’t hesitate to contact me again should you need my services regarding this matter.”

  “I will.”

  Her mind raced as she began her trek to Sibylle’s school. The only job experience she had where she could hope for a good reference was from the café in Dresden. It was time to call Renata anyway. She needed to explain her situation and apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

  Katja arrived at Sibylle’s school just as it was letting out.“How was your day?” she asked when her sister appeared.

  Sibylle’s lips tugged down. “Fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” Katja said as they began the trek back. “Did something happen?”

  Sibylle’s upper lip quivered, but she remained quiet.

  “Sibylle, you can tell me. Were the kids talking about… us?”

  She nodded. “They heard about Papa getting hauled away by the police. They weren’t too kind about it.”

  Katja squeezed her shoulders. “Just ignore them. Tomorrow there’ll be more exciting bad news for them to gossip about. The thing you have to remember is that you’re not your papa. You’re you. You make your own choices in life about how you’re going to live it. You can’t let other people dictate that for you.”

  Sibylle tilted her head, looking up at Katja’s face.“Is that why you came back?”

  Katja blinked. “Yes. It is.”

  She unlocked the door to their flat when they arrived but didn’t go in with Sibylle. “I’m going to see Henni,” she said. “Lock the door, okay?”

  Katja continued up the stairwell to the next floor and tapped on the door of the flat directly above hers. Her stomach swooshed with a new round of nerves. She hadn’t seen her friend since she’d left for Dresden months ago, hadn’t called or sent any kind of message.

  Henni answered the door. She was petite with short, dark hair that had a streak of blue Katja hadn’t seen before. She considered Katja coolly.“I heard you were back.”

  “I’m sorry.” Katja nervously clasped her hands near her stomach. “I should’ve come to visit earlier. A lot’s been happening.”

  Henni waved her inside. “I heard about Horst.”

  Who hadn’t? When you lived in a complex like this one, everyone knew everybody else’s business. Bad news sprouted wings, flew along the halls, down the streets to the shops, and through the schools, apparently.

  Henni’s apartment was laid out exactly the same as Katja’s. All the flats were the same, only some were inverted from the others. She took in the familiar room with the same old furniture and wall décor it’d had for the last twenty years Katja had known Henni’s family. The lack of change both perturbed her and comforted her.

  “How are you?” Katja asked. Henni’s teenage brother entered the room, nodded to Katja and turned on the TV.

  “Let’s go to my room to talk,” Henni said.

  Henni sat against her large, purple pillow near the wall, and grabbed a tattered stuffed bear that had made a home there since as long as Katja could remember. Katja lay across the foot of the bed and stared up at the string of little white lights Henni had hung over the window.

  She pushed out the words she knew she had to say.“I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”

  Henni twitched and held the bear tighter. “Yeah, about that.”

  Katja leaned up on one elbow, facing her friend. “It had to do with Horst.”

  Henni diverted her eyes. Katja was certain that her memory of finding Horst pinning her down with Katja fighting beneath him was as clear as if she’d witnessed it yesterday.

  “And my mother,” Katja continued. “She was so out of it with those pills and wouldn’t help me. I mean, I thought she wouldn’t. Now I know she couldn’t help. She wasn’t emotionally strong enough.” Katja sighed sadly. “It was a spontaneous decision on my part. I thought if I just left, I’d be one less problem for my mother to worry about, and I would be safe from any more unwanted attention from Horst. I didn’t mean to leave without telling you. I was in distress, and once I was gone… well it felt too late to look back.”

  Henni let out a long breath, and her eyes softened. “I knew things were hard for you, Katty. I just didn’t know how bad they were.”

  She tossed her bear to Katja and smiled a little. “So how was your time away? Where’d you go?”

  “Dresden.” The bear was lumpy with fur missing in patches, but Katja was glad that Henni hadn’t thrown it out. She stroked its bumpy head, a move that brought her a nostalgic sort of comfort. “I thought I could break into the music scene there. Make something of myself.”

  “And?” Henni pushed blue hair off her pixie face. “What happened? Why are you back?”

  Katja told her the whole story, not leaving anything out. How Micah picked her up on the street, his obsession with Greta, how one night went from being the happiest day to the worst within moments. She told the story right up to the phone call she received from Sibylle when she stood waiting at the train station.

  Henni stared at her with wide eyes and an opened mouth. “You fell in love?”

 
; Katja felt her face contort as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to well up behind her eyes. “Yeah, I did. But it was stupid, and I’m over it.”

  Henni moved onto her stomach, legs bent at the knees, feet in the air, her face only centimeters from Katja’s. “You don’t look over it.”

  “Well, I’m working on getting over it, so I’m going to stop talking about him. The important thing now is that my family needs me, and I have to do everything in my power to keep them safe and provide a stable environment for Sibylle. That’s where you come in.”

  “Me? What do you want me to do?”

  “When the time comes, I need you to testify. Tell the judge what you saw that day. How Horst attacked me.”

  Henni gulped, and Katja knew the idea of speaking out in public, in front of Horst, would be frightening. If he didn’t go to jail, Horst could come after her. There was a moment when Katja thought Henni would decline, but then she slowly nodded her head.

  “I’ll do it. I hate what Horst did to you. I always hear him yelling, and I’ve been worried about what else he was capable of, that he might pick on Sibylle next. It broke my heart when I heard he’d beat up your mother.”

  “Thank you,” Katja said.

  Henni reached for her hand and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too.”

  A couple days later, Katja landed a full-time job at a neighborhood bakery and café. The position was in the bakery part, not the café, so instead of serving customers coffee and cake all day like she had at Renata’s café, she was in the kitchen washing dishes and scrubbing floors.

  Large, rectangular pans encrusted with the edges of almond and crème cake, apple strudel and poppyseed cake, sat in a pile by a commercial-sized stainless steel sink. Katja used a blade to ease the crusts away into the garbage pail and then scrubbed each pan until it was spotless. Herr Bauer was a hard taskmaster, and he didn’t balk at raising his voice to tell her when she fell short of his expectations.

  He could yell so long as he didn’t fire her. She needed this job.

  When she was finished with the dishes, she had to scrub the floors. Flour and batter stuck stubbornly to the tile, and Katja had to get down on her hands and knees and scrape with the blade to lift it so she could sweep it off. Then she’d mop it clean, the way it would remain until the baker’s shift began the next morning. By the time she was done, her back ached and her hands throbbed.

  The job kept her body busy, but her mind was free to roam. Maddeningly, it always took her back to Dresden, back to happier times with Micah. More than once her tears mixed in with the sudsy water in the sink. Today was no different, and she swiped her face angrily. Why couldn’t she just forget him!

  “Are you okay?”

  Katja stiffened at the voice of the boss's son, Matthias. He was around Micah’s age, and carried himself in the same manner. Money and privilege. He didn’t share Micah’s good looks, but he wasn’t homely, either. He was about her height with short, blond hair. He had a friendly face and on the few occasions she had seen him, he was always smiling.

  She hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen where, at this time of day, she normally worked alone. She was mortified. Not only was her face a blotchy mess, but she also felt ugly in her baggy white uniform and apron. Her voice came out in a strangled whisper, “I’m fine.”

  “When I did this job, I found it helped to listen to music. Just pull your ear buds out when my dad’s around.”

  “You did this job?” Katja couldn’t hold in her surprise.

  Matthias grinned. “For many years. Believe me, I feel your pain.” He grabbed the blade, and bent over to scrape the dough off the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Katja asked, bewildered.

  He looked up with a smirk. “Helping?”

  “You don’t…”

  “I know, but it’ll go faster this way. And…” he added without looking at her, “I wouldn’t mind having someone to eat lunch with.”

  Matthias Bauer wanted to eat lunch with her? Her throat started to seize up, and she squeaked out, “I just broke up with someone.”

  Matthias handed her the broom, then started filling up the mop bucket. “It’s not a date. It’s just lunch. I’m hungry.”

  Of course. Look at her. She was a disaster. How stupid to think that the boss’s son was actually interested in her. She kept her head down as she swept, hoping the blush of embarrassment she felt would fade by the time they were done the floors.

  Katja changed back into her jeans and blouse, taking a moment to wash her face and put on a little makeup, thankful she had some old product in her purse. Matthias looked up from his seat in the café and smiled when he saw her. He was just another guy, she told herself. A potential friend. She could really use another friend about now. She sat across from him on a plush, red chair just as two bowls of goulash arrived. The soup was thick with meat and vegetables, with just the right amount of spice.

  “This is great,” she said after her first taste.

  Matthias nodded. “Secret family recipe.”

  “Really?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “You can find the same one online.”

  She patted her smile with a napkin. “So, what kind of music do you like?” she asked since he’d mentioned he listened while working.

  Matthias rattled off a list of bands and performers, and Katja was pleased to find he shared her taste in music.

  “Do you play?” she asked.

  “Play what? You mean an instrument? Nope.”

  He didn’t ask her in return, and she didn’t offer the information.

  “A lot of great acts come through Berlin, as you probably know,” he added. “There’s a club around the corner that caters to indies. I’m going this weekend to check it out, if you want to come.”

  Katja hesitated. “Not a date?”

  Matthias cocked a brow. “You just broke up with someone, got that. Also explains why you’re crying over the sink. So, no, not a date.”

  Katja covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry to assume.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure guys ask you out all the time. Do you want to go or not?”

  “Yes,” Katja smiled genuinely for the first time in a long while. “Sounds fun.”

  Even though Katja worked full-time at the bakery, it wasn’t enough to cover the rent, the bills, and the family debt, so the only other answer was for her mother to go back to work.

  “I’m doing better,” Gisela reassured her. “I feel stronger. It’s just such a relief to have him gone.”

  Katja considered her. She’d taken her mother to get her hair done and bought her some new clothes. Now, with the bruising on her face gone, and a few extra pounds from eating properly, she looked pretty good. “You think you could go back to work? It would only need to be part time.”

  Gisela nodded. “Maybe I could find something on the weekends.”

  That would be perfect. Katja worked during the week, so Gisela was home for Sibylle. If she worked on the weekends, Katja could keep an eye on her sister.

  With that decided, Gisela spent most mornings looking for work, but her résumé was weak. She didn’t get any of the jobs she applied for, and Katja started to worry. Then one day her mother got a call from an employment service. A bank nearby needed janitorial help on the weekends.

  “That’s perfect,” Gisela said. “Funny thing. I don’t even remember applying there, but then again, I applied at so many places. I lost track.”

  Katja gave her mother a congratulatory hug. Things were going to be okay.

  They eased into fall and with Katja and her mother both working, they satisfied the financial requirements of the social worker. Their home was deemed a satisfactory and safe place to raise Sibylle. The trial was over and Horst was now in prison. He wouldn’t be out for at least a year, so they had some time to breathe.

  It was Friday, and Katja met up with Matthias at the Musique Club again. It had become a weekl
y ritual, and Katja found she looked forward to it. She entered the dark room, her eyes scanning the faces for Matthias. He grinned when he spotted her and waved her over to his table.

  She recognized a few of the faces, other regulars. There was a Berlin equivalent to Sebastian, a rockstar wannabe with an arm draped over a girl, and his sleazy Karl-Heinz-type sidekick. There was even someone like her—the old her—a hopeful singer-songwriter chasing her dreams. She was good, too. But Katja knew that being good wasn’t enough to make it. She should talk to the girl, tell her to find something else to do before she had her heart stepped on.

  Katja knew the girl wouldn’t listen. She’d have to find out her own way.

  And who knew, maybe she’d be one of the lucky few who broke out.

  Matthias had been really good about giving her space, keeping their relationship platonic. She must’ve hid her lingering heartache well, because on that night, he draped an arm across the back of her chair. It was innocent enough, just a friendly gesture, but a little while later his hand slipped off the chair and onto her shoulders. She stiffened.

  “I’m sorry,” Matthias said. He moved his hand back to the chair.

  “No, it’s okay,” Katja said. She missed being touched. His arm around her felt good. Matthias smiled and returned his arm to her shoulder, giving her a little squeeze.

  She sipped her beer, making one glass last the whole night. Her wild and crazy days were over. No more getting drunk and making loud judgmental proclamations she regretted the next day. No more letting strange men fawn over her. She had responsibilities now. She couldn’t just think about herself anymore.

  During a break between acts Matthias spoke into her ear, “Do you want to get out of here?”

  Katja flinched. Was he serious? One arm around her back, and he thought she’d be up for making out?

  “Katja,” Matthias said, “I just mean for a walk, or something. Man, you should see your face.”

  She giggled with embarrassment. “Sorry, it’s just…”