Flesh & Bone - a contemporary romance: The Minstrel Series #2 (27 page)

“Thanks for agreeing to have me,” Sebastian offered.

Herr Baumann grunted. “Don’t give us a reason to regret it.” He pointed to his wife. “You can start by relieving Frau Baumann of dish duty. Everything but the larger pots can be run through the dishwasher. I’ll instruct you on how to do that later. You do know how to wash pots?”

Sebastian nodded. He’d done his fair share of kitchen work at the prison.

Frau Baumann dried her reddened hands on a tea towel and made room for Sebastian. He rolled up his sleeves and thrust his hands into the hot, sudsy water.

Sebastian heard Frau Baumann say in a low voice behind him. “This is a mistake.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Herr Baumann mumbled back. “Time will tell.”

Sebastian wondered why they had agreed to this situation if they were both so obviously uncertain about his working there. Maybe Eva had convinced them to take him on? The thought that she’d rallied in his favor gave him hope, and he returned to his task with vigor.

Another woman joined them as they prepared the soup. Frau Vogel was a stout, red-faced woman in her fifties. She glared at Sebastian when she spotted him and rolled her eyes. Sebastian certainly didn’t have any fans here. He could only hope to win their good graces by working hard. He scrubbed potatoes and carrots, peeled and cubed them and added them to the pot of broth. He chopped onions until his eyes burned and tears dribbled down his face. He wiped down the tables and chairs and welcomed the hungry indoors from the cold with a friendly hello.

He noticed Herr Baumann watching him and thought he caught a hint of approval in his eyes. Progress.

Sebastian wondered if Eva would arrive in time to play guitar, but he was disappointed when a middle-aged man Herr Bauer called Jörg took a spot on the small stage and picked up the instrument. The room was now full of what Sebastian imagined were homeless or at least unemployed—men, women and a couple of children. They waited respectfully as the man played, and not that well, Sebastian couldn’t help but notice. Most of them joined in, familiar with the words of the songs that were meant for God’s ears. They didn’t seem to care that the guy’s playing and singing were below par.

Herr Baumann took a few minutes to share from the Bible. Interestingly, his theme of the day was forgiveness. “Reading from Matthew 18:21-22,” Herr Baumann began. “Then Peter came and said to Him, ‘Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.’”

Sebastian studied the man as he read. His full face was tense, his eyelids heavy, his lips tugged down. His eyes darted briefly to Sebastian and back to the open book in his hand. He sighed. “I don’t think I need to elaborate,” Herr Baumann said. He lowered his head and said grace for the meal to come.

No one there seemed to put it together that it was alternative-rock sensation Sebastian Weiss of Hollow Fellows who worked quietly around them. This would be the last place people would expect a guy like him to be. He kept his gaze averted most of the time, just in case.

Afterward, when everyone had cleared out, Sebastian cleared tables and ran dirty dishes through the washer according to Herr Baumann’s clipped instructions. The words spoken in the kitchen between Sebastian and the others were few, but at least by the end of the shift, the animosity toward him had softened.

The last task of the day was to sweep the floors. His back was turned to the door when he felt a whoosh of cold air come with the person who entered.

He turned and the girl froze, her mouth falling open as her eyes narrowed. Eva. Sebastian had longed to see her for over half a year and now here she was only meters away. Her hair was longer, hanging loosely under a winter hat. She wore tights under a knee-length dress and high tie-up boots Her cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. Sebastian’s heart flipped. She was adorable and vulnerable and it took everything in him not to drop the broom, throw himself at her and kiss her face.

“Hello,” he said softly.

Eva’s eyelashes flickered. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working off my community service.”

“H-here?” she stammered.

“You didn’t know?”

Her mouth flattened into a straight line and she leaned on her cane as she walked purposefully to the kitchen at the back. “Papa!” she called.

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck. Eva was obviously surprised by his presence. And unhappy about it.

Eva stood in front of the mirror in one of the many campus washrooms. She washed her hands while watching Annette apply peach-colored lipstick.

“Are you going to wash your hands right off?” Annette asked Eva’s reflection.

Eva paused and turned off the tap. She found it difficult to concentrate on the simplest tasks. “I just can’t
believe
he’s working in the soup kitchen.” She shook her head sharply. “My father knew he was coming and didn’t say anything to me or my mother.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“He could do his community service anywhere. Why did the judge appoint him to us? Stupid bad luck? Did he think it a form of poetic justice?”

“My bet is on Sebastian.”

“Shh!” Eva didn’t permit Annette to speak his name.

“Eva, really. I’m sorry it upsets you, but maybe it’s time you cut the guy some slack.”

Eva’s mouth dropped open, and she considered her friend with disbelief. “Look at me.” Eva waved her cane in the air with one hand and swept the other along her body. “
He
did this to me.”

“Eva, it was an accident. And he panicked. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Well, it didn’t happen to anyone,” she said sharply. “It happened to me.”

Eva squeezed her eyes closed, wishing she could just make this whole thing go away. She wished she’d never met Sebastian Weiss. Despite the act she put on, she wasn’t over him and she hadn’t spent one second truly free of him. He dominated her dreams at night and lingered on the edge of her consciousness during the day. He was always there when she tried to write music. The very act of playing guitar with a pen in reach thrust her back to their writing sessions together. To her first kiss.

It wasn’t fair.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered, barely concealing the anger that constantly simmered under the surface. “You don’t know what it’s like to have something taken from you. To cope with chronic pain. You don’t know what it’s like to be truly afraid.”

“Maybe I don’t, Eva. But my life isn’t perfect, either. And there are a lot of people in the world who have it harder than you. I just think it’s time you stopped playing the victim.”

Annette’s accusations were a slap in the face. And for the first time since Eva’s return to the university, Annette left her alone to fend for herself. Eva gripped the edge of the counter and breathed in deeply, pushing back the jagged pain of betrayal she felt. The chatter from a group of girls entering the room interrupted her, and she carefully attached her smile before turning to them.

“Hi, Eva,” they said, looking stunned to catch the object of so much gossip alone.

Eva nodded hello and gripped her cane as she reached for the door. One of the girls held it open for her.

“Thanks,” Eva said. She headed down the busy hallway to her next class, working hard at minimizing her limp, pushing down at the pain.

She almost made it without bumping into anyone. Her shoulder pressed into a toned chest. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking up.

Xavier grinned down at her with straight white teeth. His eyes sparkled as he took her in. “No, it was me. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Eva couldn’t help but return a smile. Annette was right. Xavier was very attractive. “Not a problem.” She heard the flirtatious lilt in her voice as she cocked her head and stared back brazenly. “At all.”

Each day at the soup kitchen for Sebastian was pretty much a copy of his first day, with the exception of Eva’s appearance. Sebastian hadn’t caught a glimpse of her once since she’d been surprised by his assignment. She obviously despised him. Her rejection settled in his chest like a soggy sandbag. But, even if Eva wouldn’t forgive him, he would still try to make amends with her parents. He’d put them through hell as well, and though he couldn’t change what he’d done, he could make sure they knew he was sorry for it.

At the moment, he focused on cleaning and chopping up the five-kilo bag of carrots in front of him. Frau Baumann and Frau Vogel chatted in a friendly manner on the opposite side of the kitchen. They’d either gotten used to him being around or had decided to just act like he wasn’t there. Either way, Sebastian was fine with it. At least they weren’t stabbing him with sharp glares anymore.

Herr Baumann arrived and greeted the women. Then he surprised Sebastian by saying, “Take a ten minute break and have a coffee with me.” Sebastian washed and dried his hands and followed the older man into the front sitting area.

Herr Baumann surprised him further by insisting that Sebastian take a seat and by pouring his coffee for him. He returned to the coffee station to prepare his, then sat in the chair opposite. He stared pensively at his mug, stirring the cream in with smooth, circular strokes. He took a sip and then looked at Sebastian.

“Since we’re going to be working together for the next few months, I thought we should get to know each other a little. Besides… the reason you are here… I know very little about you.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” Sebastian admitted. What exactly was Eva’s father after?

“Tell me about your family. Did you grow up in the
Neustadt
?”

“Yes. I have one sister—Leah. She’s a marine biologist and she lives in Spain. My father is a lawyer and my mother is a doctor.”

Herr Baumann raised a bushy eyebrow. “And you’re a musician?”

Sebastian smirked. “I think I’m adopted. Or at least that’s what I tell myself to try to explain things, except I look a lot like my mother.”

“You managed to become successful in your chosen field,” Herr Baumann acknowledged. “They must be proud of your accomplishments.”

The smile slid off Sebastian’s face. “Quite honestly my life choices have been a point of contention. My parents kicked me out of the house when I refused to go to university. They think I’m careless and irresponsible.” Sebastian inhaled. “I suppose they’re not wrong about that.”

“Any career choice can be honorable if pursued with integrity. My parents didn’t want me to become a pastor, so I know what it’s like to go against one’s parents when it comes to the big choices.” He grinned. “But they liked my choice in a wife, so that helped to ease their minds. This many years into it, it’s no longer an issue.”

“My father came to visit me when I was in prison. It was the first time I’d seen him in six years.”

Herr Baumann’s face softened. “Did it go well?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I suppose. He’s not the same as he used to be, not as stubborn. I think that’s because he’s dying.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Can I ask what ails him?”

Sebastian sipped his coffee and pushed back at the emotion that snuck up on him. “Cancer.”

“Such a horrible sickness.”

“Can I ask you something?” Sebastian leaned forward slightly. “Why did you agree to let me fulfill my community service here? I mean, I know why I wanted to come, but why did you let me?”

Herr Baumann lowered his mug. “Tell me why you wanted to come, and then I’ll answer you.”

“I’m in love with your daughter.” Sebastian tried to read Herr Baumann’s face as he made his confession, but the man was an expert at keeping his expression blank. “I wanted to see her again. I’d hoped she felt the same way, but it appears that she doesn’t.”

“I said yes to your request because I love my daughter as well. She’s hardened her heart, and I fear she’s headed for a life of unhappiness if she doesn’t reconcile what happened to her with God. And with you.”

“So, we both want the same thing, sort of. How do we get what we want if she refuses to come to the soup kitchen as long as I am here?”