contacting Mr. Kretzer, everything was
in place. I loaded up on German
guidebooks and contacted my Aunt
Hannalore to let her know what
happened. She too was thrilled at the
prospect of me living so close. In two
more days, I would take a step that
would irrevocably change my life
forever.
Chapter 29 - The
Catalyst
The clicking noise of my foot
tapping furiously against the mahogany
barstool went unnoticed by the other
patrons. It was a nervous tick that
became present while deep in thought.
The guidebook I was poring over was
starting to resemble a children’s
coloring book with all of the highlighting
over every page. I only had a week in
Munich, which I was determined to
make the most of.
The gin and tonic that I was nursing
diluted quickly from sitting stagnant for
so long. I never took my eyes off the
pages while taking sips through the short
black cocktail straw. The wet napkin
that was stuck to the bottom of the glass,
adhered by condensation, fell into my
lap, breaking my concentration. At the
same moment, an announcement came
over the intercom. “This is AeroEurope
regarding flight 2219, Chicago O’Hara
to Munich. Due to a storm coming in
from the Atlantic, we are being
instructed to remain grounded until
further notice. We are working on
alternative routes with the FAA. We
will begin boarding once it is finalized.
If you need to adjust your travel
arrangements, please approach the gate
for assistance. Thank you.” Immediately
a mad rush descended on the poor flight
attendants. I couldn’t imagine having to
deal with angry passengers on a daily
basis. I remained comfortably at the bar,
savoring this time to myself. I had two
days to complete my travel; a few hours
did not bother me.
There were no more labs, no
lectures, or empty apartment. My mind
filled with images of what Bavaria was
promoted to be…romantic castles, lush
rolling hills, beer and pretzels. Streets
would be filled with tightly corseted
women and strapping men wearing
leather lederhosen. I laughed to myself at
the stereotype in my mind. It was one
that
was
perpetuated
by
glossy
brochures and the multiple festivals held
year round in Cincinnati. I knew better.
Germany had become an industrial
powerhouse. One word described the
country:
efficient
.
After World War II, they brought in
immigrants to rebuild after it was nearly
decimated. Now, Germany boasted fast
sleek cars, gorgeous alpine vistas, and
an economic infrastructure that not only
cared for its citizens, it pursued progress
relentlessly. A few of my coworkers
tried to tell me that Germans were not
friendly, but I never found that to be true.
My Aunt Hannalore lived in Lindau near
Lake Constance in the South. When I
asked her about why that rumor
persisted, she simply told me that
Americans are rude travelers with a
superiority complex. It was simply
different there, and I would see it for
myself.
As a scientist, I would appreciate
the way of life over there. She
responded excitedly to the email I had
sent to tell her I was going to be close
for an interview. I wished she could
have picked me up from the airport, yet
she assured me the public travel was not
like the United States; there was nothing
to be nervous about.
I slurped the last bit of drink I had
left and set my glass down. Feeling
someone walk up next to me to order
something, I kept my eyes glued forward
towards my book, feeling it awkward to
turn immediately at the stranger. He
smelled delicious. I closed my eyes and
breathed deeply. Hints of cedar and
leather; it was intoxicating.
“What can I get you, sir?” the
female bartender said cheerfully while
wiping the spot in front of him.
I looked up at her face to see she
was blushing. I smiled slightly and
looked back at my book, yet wanting to
see whom this was next to me, causing
such a reaction.
Clearing his throat with obvious
exaggeration, he replied, “Bourbon,
neat.”
The girl blushed again and quickly
turned around to grab the bottle from the
far side of the bar. I still refused to take
my eyes away from the spot in front of
me. Absentmindedly grasping for the
glass and mouthing for the straw, I
remembered again it was empty. I set it
back down and turned the page, trying to
appear uninterested in the man next to
me. She set down his glass as he slid a
credit card across the bar to start a tab.
As she started to ring in his drink, he
motioned for her to come back.
“I would like to buy this lady a
drink; she seems to have finished hers.”
I looked up at the girl who now
held a scorn beneath her smile. Instantly,
I waved my hands in refusal.
“I am good, but thank you.”
The bright smirk reappeared as her
eyes danced back to the gentleman.
Feeling increasingly curious, my body
turned to see who was attempting to be
charitable. It wasn’t liquor coursing
through my veins, but sheer shock as I
reeled backwards, grabbing for the top
of the bar as I started to fall off the stool.
This was graceful,
yeah right
…I felt his
strong hands grab my wrist to keep me
from going any further. It happened so
quickly, I could not help but laugh loudly
as I positioned myself into a more stable
spot. He started to join in at the
dramatics quickly unfolding, and then I
stopped.
My face tightened and contorted
into a strange shape that he mirrored
from my reaction. I looked down at the
hands that caught me, still gently placed
around my wrist.
Barely a whisper, all that could
come out was a small “hi”.
His fingers gently swiped along the
curve of my jaw before pulling me into
an embrace as the reality of him being
there set in. My face nuzzled into the
corner of his neck. Arms wrapped tightly
around my waist as I felt his cheek press
deeply into my hair. The scent was no
longer a hint, but an overpowering
wave, devouring my senses. I felt the
white cotton shirt start to soak with
tears.
I
pulled
away
with
embarrassment, realizing there was also
pink lipstick and black mascara along
his collar.
“You look like a crazy raccoon,” he
chuckled.
I reached for the bar napkin to wipe
my runny nose and attempt to restore my
face to a more reasonable state. My lips
pursed into a pout as I tried to back into
my stool to sit down. Hands swiftly
grabbed my hips to pull me close again,
causing a hitch in my breath.
“You look amazing.”
I knew why the bartender was
blushing like an idiot now. He was
striking, no…he was gorgeous! Dark
chocolate waves fell into place as he ran
his fingers through his hair. Piercing
blue eyes stared back at me lovingly. My
hands ran along his broad chest, feeling
the expensive wool of his coat beneath
them. I was sure I was the blushing idiot,
based off his smile. He reached in and
pulled me into another embrace.
“God, I missed you.”
I squeezed back. “I missed you,
too.”
I imagined this scenario in my head
a million times; however, it always
brought me pain rather than the elation I
was currently experiencing. I waited to
wake up at any moment, finding this
another lucid dream that has haunted me
for far too long. I felt the vibration of his
Adam’s apple against my forehead when
he let out a deep growling sigh. I
squeezed him tighter, unwilling to break
the embrace first.
“Can I buy you a drink now?”
I pulled away to give him a grin.
Breathing out in feigned exasperation, “I
guess, if you must.”
The bartender was now gawking
unabashedly at our reunion, unsure of
what to make of the situation. His hand
rubbed my shoulder with familiarity I
was no longer accustomed to. The
muscles involuntarily flinched at his
touch, causing him to stop and look at me
curiously for a moment. Shepard then
picked up the short rocks glass and
swirled the amber colored bourbon
before taking a sip.
“What do you want?” his eyebrows
piqued at the loaded question.
Without a pause, I replied, “What
do you have in mind?”
He nearly choked with laughter at
my playful response.
“Well, since my flight just got
delayed, I am sure I can figure something
out, especially since we are on the same
flight.”
I was caught off guard; how did he
know what flight I was on? Knowing
what was running through my mind, he
picked up the guidebook in front of me
and tapped it on the bar.
“Oh, I see. Where are you sitting
at?”
He pulled the ticket from his inner
coat pocket and glanced. “Seat 4C. And
you?”
“Not business class, I know that.
26G.”
He reached over and grabbed the
ticket from my hand. “We will need to
fix that then.”
“What? Give me that back!” I
jumped up to follow him as he walked
towards the line at the gate, shoving all
of my belongings into my backpack.
They
had
worked
swiftly
to
accommodate the passengers so the line
was considerably shorter.
“Get your passport out, they will
need to see it.”
“Shepard, what are you doing?” I
sounded irritated, but it was confusion at
this sudden change in plans.
His voice took on a quieter tone as
he gazed down at me. “Spending any
moment I can with you.”
I looked away to the gate agent who
was waiting expectantly for our request.
I reached into my pack for my wallet,
which Shepard immediately motioned
for me to put away. I frowned. “I can get
this, you know. How much is it?”
“Violet, let me. I can expense it,
and I’d like to do this for you.”
The agent was already swiping his
card, not waiting for my approval.
“It looks as though it’s already been
done.” I couldn’t hide the smile creeping
across my face.
Shepard handed my passport back
with along with my new ticket. The
expression in his eyes told me that this
was going to be the beginning of a very
interesting flight. His hand pressed
lightly on the small of my back, guiding
me back to the bar to wait for the
boarding announcement. His whole
demeanor had morphed into one of
contentment. Internally, I grew cautious
about this supposedly random encounter,
yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that was
forming. My heart beat so strongly inside
my chest, pulsing life back into my very
being. I shoved the doubt down deep,
only
allowing
these
currents
of
anticipation to flow through. Time could
not diminish the effect he had on me.
Chapter 30 - Icarus
“Pinch me!” I held my arm in front
of Shepard as he was settling in his seat.
“You’re holding out the wrong
body part, Violet.”
As I snapped my arm back, a deep
belly laugh filled the cabin taking a few
of the passengers off guard. “You’re
going to have to keep it down mister; we
can’t get kicked off this flight. They may
not let us on the same plane together.”
The flight attendant approached us with
two glasses of champagne and warm
towels. Taking one after buckling in, I