Heroine: The Husband's Cologne (5 page)

I hurried to the restroom, which was one floor down and could only be accessed by way of the main entrance hall.  This was probably to keep the guests far enough away from the toilet area.

Once there, I wedged myself into a stall and dialed Daniel's cell phone number.  He picked up right away. 

“Hi honey,” I said, out of breath, “Renate and I are still in town, but I'll be heading home soon.”  We talked a little longer then I said goodbye. 

“Don't do anything stupid,” Daniel cautioned before I hung up, “and take care of yourself. I love you and miss you.”

This gave me a real pang in the gut, it really hurt.  Only later did I discover that Daniel had called Renate to find out when I was going to get in touch.  A little uneasy, I made my way back upstairs.

That's right; I forgot to mention the thing about the restrooms.  Actually, they weren't very easy to find, since all the guests were being treated in the same polite manner.  Shortly after we arrived at the restaurant I asked Louis where the restrooms were, and he had called a young waitress over and told her to show me the way to the ladies' room downstairs.  It was the same way for everybody, very politically correct.  Women were to the right, men around and to the left.

But back to the evening, which now resumed more in silence than in conversation.  Erich must have sensed that something wasn't right, and asked me if I was OK.  I said yes, but that I was probably not used to so much food in one evening and should perhaps slow down a little.  At which point the last course was served, consisting of nothing but an ample snifter of Cognac. 

At about 1 a.m., we left the restaurant and Erich, without being asked, said:

“I'll take you home.”  For a moment I thought he was intending to take his Jaguar, instead we got into a taxi that he had waiting for us.  When we got to my door, he got out with me, offered me his hand and looked me deep in the eyes:

“Thank you for the lovely evening, I can't remember the last time I felt so comfortable.  Can we see each other again?”

I nodded, for I had never been dropped off in front of my door in such a gallant manner.  Other friends of mine would have been pressing me to come upstairs by now. 

He asked me if I might give him my cell phone number, and when I told him that I didn't have a cell phone, he inquired what time I was usually at home so that he could reach me.  I told him. 

Once I got upstairs, I sat on the bed, grabbed the old phone and called Daniel.  He answered immediately, having probably seen my number on his display. 

“Everything's OK, baby,” I said to him.  “I'm home now and I miss you.”  I felt a jolt in my belly.  Tears welled up in my eyes.  How I missed him....  We talked a little while longer, and then I went to bed. 

That night I dreamed of a bird of prey with mottled gray feathers that circled high above me.  I was a small bird coasting along a cliff side, frantically looking for a place to perch or hold on to.  Or rather, it was a sensation of falling, for I had no feathers and was totally naked.  The bird – I think it was an eagle – suddenly swooped down and took hold of me.  I was terrified, until I felt the eagle set me down into a nest which lay concealed in the rock face.  It was dry and warm in the nest and as the eagle draped its wings over me, I felt instantly secure. 

   It was 8 p.m., when the phone rang again.  I had just finished my nightly talk with Daniel shortly before.  My husband and I had spoken at length, and I had told him, like a proud little girl, about the progress I had made in my studies.

  
At the end of the conversation he mentioned that he wouldn't be able to make it this weekend.  Saturday and Sunday he was invited to an executive seminar in a hotel at the Riesser Lake.

Where on earth was  Riesser Lake? Below the Zugspitze, a tall mountain in the Alps, he informed me.

  Part of him was uneasy about leaving me home alone for the weekend, on the other hand he felt honored, because only aspiring managers had been invited to the seminar. 

I was reluctantly assimilating the news and preparing myself for a dull weekend when I got now this unexpected call from Erich.  At  8:00 p.m., as mentioned before, on the dot.  No “cum tempore” this time. 

Erich asked me what had I thought of the previous evening, and I said it had been “fantastic”.  After Daniel's disappointing news just moments prior, I suddenly felt a surge of well-being as I heard Erich's voice.

That must have been why I began enthusing about it, and thanking him profusely for his charming manner.  Indeed, I used the word “charming,” because I had often heard it used in Austria by men looking to compliment women.

He was inviting me to the
Montjoie Golf Resort. It’s a real luxury locale, with golf courses, a spa and so on. I thought I had misheard him.  For a moment I wanted to say no, because of Daniel...then I remembered his seminar and felt myself getting defiant.  If Daniel could go gallivanting around in a luxury hotel, then so could I. 

Erich must have sensed my hesitation:

“I swear on my honor, that I will not try to take advantage of you.  Nothing will happen that you don't wish to happen.

I have a brief business meeting to conduct there, and I was planning on spending some leisure time afterwards. It would give me great pleasure to have such a kind and gentle person as you at my side for the occasion.  You'll have your own room and you could also enjoy some rest and recovery if you wish.”

And so it happened, that on Friday night a red Jaguar stood before my door, in which a distinguished older gentleman proceeded to whisk a young lady, clad in a summer dress and carrying nothing but a faded gym bag, off into the Eifel countryside.

Two hours later we entered the woodland.  By this time it was dark and chilly, as spring had not quite set in yet.  We checked into the hotel, he took room 412, I got number 233.  It was a double room with all manner of luxuries, which I had never experienced before.  A sliding door led to the balcony with views of the golf course behind the hotel, and below I could glimpse the dim blue lights of the swimming pool. 
Damn
, I thought to myself, I had forgotten to pack my bikini. 

Shortly after 9:30 we met in the restaurant.  Over a fine wine – about which he seemed to know a lot – he informed me that tomorrow, after breakfast, he had to attend a meeting with his firm, as he referred to it, after
which he was “at my disposal.” 

Following dinner, he retired to his room, and I stayed back awhile in the bar, treating myself to a whiskey on Erich's expense, since he was paying for everything.  Two young men tried to flirt with me, but I brushed them off.

Back in my room, I went to bed and sank into a deep, dreamless slumber, only to be roused by the phone the next morning.

“Hello
Juliane, did you sleep well?” Erich inquired.

“Very, I haven't slept that well in a while,” I replied, serenely.

“Listen, it's almost 9 and I have to go to the meeting.  Go ahead and have breakfast at your leisure and we can meet at around 1 o'clock in the restaurant.”  Then he hung up. 

I bolted out of bed.  Dammit, I had slept through the entire breakfast.  I saw it was drizzling outside, so I put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  When I was done in the bathroom and had dressed, I made my way down to the dining hall, expecting breakfast to be over and done with, but to my surprise it was still
underway.I proceeded to enjoy my first 5-star spread. 

Afterwards I explored the hotel thoroughly, which offered a remarkable array of comforts and amenities.  There were multiple saunas, a swimming pool, massage parlors, a gym and much more.  I was curious about trying the sauna and asked the man at the entrance if he could provide me with a towel and a bathrobe. 

“I'm sorry,” he said, looking down at me from his height, “but the sauna isn't included in the price of your room, you would have to pay an extra 75 Euros.”

Disappointed, I walked away.  Where was I supposed to
find that much money, when my university grant was a mere 450 Euros?  If Daniel were not paying the rent, I'd be dirt poor. 

I stayed in my hotel room until noon working on my term paper, which I wanted to present in a couple of days.  Then at 1 o'clock I made my way to the restaurant.  Erich stood outside, speaking to two men in dark suits.  They carried briefcases and looked slightly menacing. There was also as a slender older woman dressed in a yellow suit, which had certainly not been bought at
Walmart.  She wore high-heel shoes, sported a hairdo that could only have been concocted by a celebrity stylist, and jewelry around her neck and hands that, if genuine, could easily have paid my way through college.  She didn't only look elegant, but her presence alone seemed to enlarge the room, as people made a wide arc around her.  She exuded power.  Were it not for her hooked nose, she might have been described as beautiful in spite of her advanced age. 

As Erich saw me approach, he quickly took leave of his colleagues and came to greet me. 

“Did you have a pleasant morning?” he asked.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the elderly woman sizing me up from head to toe, and as she saw me turn to her, she lifted her chin and sauntered off imperiously.  In front of the hotel entrance, one of the attendants opened the back door of a large black Mercedes for her, and as she sank into the back seat, closed it after her with a pleasant “poof” sound.

I turned to Erich and told him that I had spent the morning in my room, because I wasn't allowed into the sauna due to the extra 75 Euros it would have cost. 

He frowned, offered me his arm and led me to a table
in the restaurant that the waiter had directed us to. 

“Wait here a moment,” he said and left. 

I was leafing through the menu when he returned.  He smiled gently and said:

“Everything's in order, you can use any facility you wish, free of charge.”  Again, I was impressed. 

After lunch, we resumed our conversation and strolled awhile on the golf course, as the rain had let up.  I held onto his arm and felt at ease.  Never before, I thought, had a man understood me so well and been so attentive with me, apart from Daniel, perhaps.  As the weather got a bit colder, I began to shiver slightly, and Erich promptly took me back inside. 

“Why don't we take a sauna together to warm up?” he proposed.  OK, I didn't see a problem in taking a sauna with him; I took them often and had no qualms about being naked.  After all, everybody was naked in a sauna. This is custom in Germany and Scandinavia.  And I didn't have to worry about him proposing sex in public.

As I made my way to the sauna reception – Erich had gone ahead already – and asked for a towel and bathrobe, to my surprise the receptionist approached me immediately, visibly shaken, offering his sincere apologies. He assured me that the incident this morning had been a misunderstanding that naturally all facilities were at my disposal free of charge.  Erich must have told him off good and proper.  I felt giddy as a little girl, and honored to be in Erich's company. 

After two rounds in the sauna, we rested a little, and Erich inquired whether I would like a massage, a therapeutic one of course, because he was planning on treating himself to one as well.  Why not, I thought, a
“therapeutic” one would be harmless.  Then he proposed that we go up to his suite for the massage; it would be quieter and more relaxed there, and we could talk in the meantime. 

And so it happened.  I grabbed my clothes from the changing room, and wearing our bathrobes and slippers we made our way up to the fourth floor.  What I saw stunned me.  This wasn't a room, it was a house. It spanned two floors, and was spacious enough to accommodate an entire soccer team.  A bedroom with a huge double bed, a living room enclosed entirely by glass, a fireplace, an enormous TV set and so forth. 

A stairway led up to the second floor, where there was a gym replete with exercise machines, a whirlpool in the corner and several lounge chairs.  Later, I found out that the penthouse was actually used by world-class athletes looking for some rest and recovery. 

The doorbell rang, and Erich let in two masseurs dressed in white, bearing towels and massage oils.  We spent the session side by side on lounge beds, telling jokes and enjoying ourselves.  I can attest to the fact that they were, indeed, therapeutic massages; otherwise I might get into trouble with the hotel management. 

Following the treatment I felt so relaxed and spent, that I would have gladly fallen asleep anywhere.  In the meantime it had gotten dark, and Erich led me to a large couch in front of the fireplace and placed a pillow under my head as I lay down on my side and closed my eyes.  We both wore white bathrobes that he had gotten from his wardrobe.  Mine was a few sizes too big and my hands disappeared in the sleeves.

Erich busied himself with the fire and through my
closed eyelids I could take in the flicker of the flames.  It was evidently a gas fireplace because the flames reared up instantly behind the glass panel and spread out in a soft yellow glow.  The objects in the room threw long dark shadows which seemed to take the shapes of eerie little goblins hopping about.

Erich took a place beside me on the couch and asked me to lay my head in his lap, and I happily obliged.  I felt so at ease and secure.  At that moment I entertained no thoughts of sex, but already I had begun to love Erich.  My belly got warm whenever I looked at him, my heart pounded and I felt a surge of heat rise in my chest.

As he began to gently stroke and fondle my hair, I let my eyes close again and dozed.  His hand ran slowly down my cheek and caressed it.  It was tender and soft, with no calluses, almost like that of a woman.  It felt heavenly, and I relished every second.  Then he began gingerly circling my lips with his finger.  I felt myself quiver slightly.  This was an area that I had not fully explored yet.  His hand continued down to my neck, which he almost imperceptibly massaged.  I sighed deeply, and pretended I was asleep. 

I had the feeling I was about to shatter. I dismissed any reservations I had, turned over on my back, gave a sigh and opened my eyes.  Looking up from his lap, I gave him a lingering stare, and he understood. 

Carefully he untied the belt of my bathrobe and opened it.  I now lay utterly naked before him, and lusted after him.

“How beautiful you are,” he whispered.

He got up slowly, repositioned my head on the pillow and started caressing my body.

I opened my eyes again, when he’d finished his excellent job.  Erich was sitting on the floor watching me.  I rolled over onto the floor, took him in my arms and kissed him.  I lay between his legs and peered up at him. 

“Thank you,” I said, “that was fantastic.”

Suddenly I realized that he didn't have an erection.  My head was in the spot where I would have expected his stiff cock to be. He still had his bathrobe on, whereas I was totally nude.  For some reason I felt like a baby on a changing table.  I looked at him and he looked back, then I slid my hand under his bathrobe.  I felt his flaccid member.  Had I done something wrong?

He must have read the question in my eyes, and replied, sadly:

“No, it's me, I'm impotent.  I love women, I need the affection, but under normal circumstances I can't get it up anymore.  That's why I usually avoid relations where possible.  But with you I felt I might try to have sex again.”

Now I felt sorry for him.  The craziest thoughts came to mind: perhaps I could heal him or offer him some kind of psychotherapy which would render him potent again.  I was perplexed.  I realized that I loved him even more now than before.  And I told him so:

“I love you.”

He peered at me with his big wistful eyes, took me in his arms and gave me a long, deep kiss which made me swoon.

I slowly parted his bathrobe and he turned so that his back was to the couch, his knees bent and spread apart.

I glanced up at him from below. Fine, I was willing to go the distance.

I tried everything, which came into my mind, but nothing happened. 

“Never mind,” he said after a while.  “I've had a wonderful time today and I'm grateful to you for it.”

A little disappointed, I stood up. Wasn't there anything else I could do, I asked him.  Perhaps, he replied, but not today. 
Maybe in a few weeks' time, during the semester break.  Then he lifted my head and gave me another long, probing kiss.  I shut my eyes.

Potent or not, he was an attentive lover, and none of my responses escaped him. Many minutes later I was awake again.  I was still lying on my stomach; Erich was stroking my back and my legs.