Authors: Johanna Danninger
“Cleaning is noisy. Don’t you know that?”
“I see.” Desiderio loosely crossed his arms and studied me. “You know something? I’m truly impressed.”
“And what is it you’re so impressed by, if I might ask?”
He grinned. “By your jealousy.”
What?
I opened my eyes wide. “Are you nuts? I’m not jealous of that . . . I can’t believe it!”
The right corner of his mouth twitched upward and made me feel a little vertigo. “You don’t have to try to talk your way out of it. I think it’s fantastic.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I coughed. “Why would I be jealous if I want nothing to do with you?”
“Well now, that would be the sixty-thousand-dollar question, wouldn’t it?” he said mysteriously.
As I struggled to breathe, he leaned toward me and said conspiratorially, “Just so you know, I’m not going out with her. However, if you would like to do something with me tomorrow, I am utterly at your disposal.”
“No, thanks!” I insisted. I could feel myself being reeled in again by those blue eyes.
Desiderio laughed huskily. “Good night, little warrioress.” With that, he vanished from the room.
Flustered, I pressed my hand on my stomach to ease the tingling that was raging in there.
Damn it!
Now I was suffering not only from cardiac arrhythmias but also gastroenteritis. This was clearly an entirely new bacterium for which I had to find an antidote as soon as possible.
My EKG a few hours later turned out to be completely normal.
Chapter 13
Saturday, August twenty-fourth. Vera’s birthday was all about relaxation. I treated myself to an extensive spa treatment complete with bubble bath and facial.
Oh, it felt so good!
I hadn’t spoiled myself like that for a long time. Normally, I speed-shaved my legs in the shower and spruced up my nails only if one of them broke.
Today, though, I decided to indulge in painting those nails. Since I lacked experience, this took quite some time and half a liter of polish remover. In the end, though, my French manicure looked quite respectable. From afar. In dim lighting.
While I was plucking the brows above my watery eyes, I thought for the hundredth time about what I should wear. A woman’s constant lament. My freshly shaved legs suggested a dress. Owning only three dresses limited my choices. And there were really only two candidates, since the third was my flowered beach dress, which was definitely not suitable for a big night out.
In the end, I opted for my black sixties-style dress. I loved that dress. The halter top was very formfitting, and the bottom half was a swingy skirt that barely reached past my knees. The highlight was a broad bright-red belt that cinched under my chest. I had bought matching red pumps.
Perfect!
I looked at the time. I still had two hours, which sounded like a lot but might actually be tight. Because now that I’d made the clothing selection, I had to choose a hairdo to go with it. As my creativity was limited, this presented a problem, so I hopped online and googled rockabilly hairstyles. I was immediately inundated with thousands of pictures. It was overwhelming at first, but on the second page, I found an adorable updo that looked manageable.
I took my laptop to the bathroom and got to work trying to follow the directions exactly.
The keyword here: “trying.”
By the time I got to the last step, I looked like a scruffy broom. Although I had used an untold number of bobby pins, the whole structure somehow listed to one side. My hair bore no resemblance to the picture, and the grin on the model’s face was starting to get on my nerves. I almost had the feeling she was laughing at me.
Rats!
I closed my laptop with a grumble and began removing all the bobby pins. That took a long time and really hurt. Once I thought I had gotten them all, I leaned forward and shook out my hair. I was about to reach for the brush when I noticed that all that teasing hadn’t been for nothing after all. My hair billowed voluminously over my shoulders and absolutely deserved to be described as a wild mane. Without further ado, I pulled out a broad headband and pushed the whole affair out of my face.
Not bad!
When I was finished with the hair spray, I was impressed with the result. I was less pleased, however, when I saw the time and realized I had to go in fifteen minutes.
I frantically applied my makeup, concentrating mainly on the eyes. I lined them with a deep black color, giving them a smoky look.
After that, I jumped into my dress and shoes, sprayed on plenty of my favorite fragrance, and slipped on some jewelry.
Even though I was running late, I had to stop at the mirror to admire myself.
Lena, you are a real hottie!
And I really was. Even if I did say so myself.
I rummaged in my closet for a matching red purse, stuffed my wallet and Vera’s gift inside, and hurried out the door in my red pumps. I didn’t even make it all the way down the stairs before I realized I was going to regret being in high heels, but as they say, beauty is pain.
A short while later, I stormed into The Goose, a cozy Irish pub–style place, and wound my way past the many small tables to the birthday party, which consisted of Vera, Sebastian, and Frank.
I was well aware that my twenty-minute lateness would not make me the hero of the evening and, in fact, only Frank seemed genuinely happy to see me when I arrived at the table a little out of breath.
“Lena! Wow, you look great!” He greeted me with an approving look.
“Thank you,” I grinned and curtsied.
“You’re late,” the birthday girl scolded.
“I’m really sorry! I had a little disagreement with some hairstyling directions on the Internet.”
Vera inspected my hair critically. “Looks more like you lost a fight with a teasing comb,” she grumbled.
“Well, yes. This is my attempt at salvaging the mess,” I explained, pointing to my head. “It was supposed to be an updo.”
“Can we order now?” Sebastian griped.
“In a second,” I said. I pulled the gift out of my purse. “First, I have to get rid of this.”
Vera’s mood swing was amazing. No sooner had she seen the little package wrapped in flowery lilac paper than all her annoyance at my tardiness was forgotten.
“Oh!” she gushed and jumped up with shiny eyes. “That wasn’t necessary.”
Oh, sure it wasn’t . . .
I ignored the cliché and embraced my girlfriend warmly. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you!”
We released our embrace and I gave her my present.
Vera held the package to her ear and shook it. “Hmm . . .”
“Go on; just open it!” I demanded with a laugh.
“OK.” With one movement, she ripped off the carefully taped paper. Immediately we heard a squeal of delight. “Season eight? Season eight?”
“Yep.”
“Yay! I can finally watch again. Listen, Sebastian, the DVD player is all mine for the next few days!”
Sebastian seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect of a
Desperate Housewives
marathon.
“I’m hungry” was all he said.
“Oh, don’t be a curmudgeon.” I tousled his hair. “Quick, let’s order before the poor guy starves to death.”
Vera and I sat down. I had barely reached for the menu when Sebastian signaled the waitress and placed his order. I decided not to complain and just ordered a schnitzel by default.
Once the order was in, Sebastian seemed to relax.
Hungry people are all the same.
“Soooo, Vera?” I asked casually. “Did your curmudgeon get you something nice?”
“Oh yes,” she answered breathily and shot a love-struck glance at her beloved.
“Are we permitted to know what?” I followed up.
Vera waggled her fingers to call my attention to a delicate silver band.
I examined it. “Wow, this is pretty,” I said, then looked up sharply. “Wait, do you mean that’s a . . .”
Blushing, Vera nodded.
“An engagement ring?!” I had to make sure.
I looked at both Vera and Sebastian for confirmation before jumping up with a squeal and embracing my friend. “Congratulations! You’re getting married! Yippee! I’m so happy for you!”
While I was practically suffocating Vera and dancing a jig, Frank patted his buddy on the shoulder and said, “Congratulations, dude.”
I supposed it was my turn. I released Vera and turned toward Sebastian to hug him as well. “Congratulations! This is great!”
I went on gushing for a while before I snapped my fingers to get the waitstaff’s attention. They were not amused. Despite their grim expressions, though, I ordered four proseccos. We had something important to celebrate.
By the time I’d finally calmed down, the whole restaurant knew that Vera and Sebastian were getting married. They were both a little embarrassed. I didn’t care—I wanted the whole world to know that two of my best friends were going to be happy together for the rest of their lives.
I grabbed my glass and proposed a toast. “May my darling friends love each other forever!”
We laughed and drank to their happiness.
“Did he ask you today?” I wanted to know after we had taken a sip.
“Yes. It was so romantic!” Vera swooned. “He brought me breakfast in bed and put the wrapped jewelry box on the tray. When I unwrapped it, I just thought it was a beautiful gift—it was only when he got down on his knees that I realized what it meant.”
“Oh, how sweet.” I turned to Sebastian, who was looking a little embarrassed.
If they hadn’t been my closest friends, I might have been jealous.
“Have you set a date?” asked Frank.
“And what exactly do you have in mind?” I squawked. “I mean, are you going to have a small civil ceremony or do you want something big with a church and all?”
Vera and Sebastian briefly exchanged an inquiring glance.
“To be honest, we really hadn’t thought about any of that yet,” Vera confessed.
“What?” I screamed. “What have you been talking about all day?” Vera’s red ears were all the answer I needed. “Oh right,” I dialed back. “Forget I asked.”
The food arrived and the men immediately pounced upon it while we girls launched into a conversation in which every other word was some version of “bridal.”
Bridal gown, bridal bouquet, bridesmaids, bridal car . . .
There was so much to discuss!
The more we mused about the dream wedding, the larger Sebastian’s eyes grew.
“Boy oh boy, there’s so much we’ll have to consider!” he said in shock.
I gently patted him on the arm. “No worries. Vera is going to plan the whole thing with me exclusively. All you have to do is show up and say ‘I do’ at the right moment.”
He nodded, looking relieved. “I think I can manage that.”
“I certainly hope so!” said Vera.
Sebastian took her hand and looked deep into her eyes. “Believe me, darling. Nothing in the world could keep me from it. I cannot imagine a life without you.”
Too sweet!
A bit cheesy, but still sweet. I made moony eyes at the two and sighed heavily.
Would I ever find a man who would say such things to me from the bottom of his heart? Or who I could say something like that to?
Rather than sink into sentimentality, I took another sip of prosecco and turned the conversation back to wedding plans.
Chapter 14
After about two hours of wedding talk, the guys persuaded us to move on. They’d had enough of table centerpieces and were eager to lean against a bar, sip whiskey, and listen to loud music. And so, around eleven o’clock, we marched over to Go. One advantage of The Goose was that it sat directly across the street from the club. Very practical. Particularly because it meant we didn’t have to worry about a designated driver.
The main entrance was swarming with people. It seemed like all of Wollbach was set on a night out. I feared the inside would be even worse.
When we finally pushed past the brawny bouncers, my fears were validated.
Go was as busy as the Munich airport during a blizzard. The path to the bar was the first challenge. We fought our way through until Frank eventually managed to find a place at the counter.
“I’m not leaving this spot for the rest of the evening,” he declared a little breathlessly.
He ordered whiskey and Cokes for the men and wine spritzers for the ladies, doing his best to defend his spot at the bar. It was a good thing he was so strong, because it took some effort not to be swept away by the thirsty crowds. The rest of us tried to support him in order to preserve our source of alcoholic sustenance.
In ten minutes, I was completely exhausted from all the pushing and shoving. Frank must have noticed my sour look because he pressed a shot into my hand. I downed it without hesitation, knowing I couldn’t possibly tolerate these masses of people without a buzz.
Vera spotted some coworkers, excused herself briefly, and pushed past me. Shortly thereafter, I heard screeches that could only mean a certain someone had just flashed her engagement ring.
Sebastian and Frank were involved in a conversation, the content of which I could not make out because of the loud music, and for a while I stood around and people-watched. Even though there were some nice-looking men to check out, I couldn’t help being a little bored. Vera had vanished and the constant shoving was just too much.
At some point, though, things got more interesting as a lover’s quarrel played out directly in front of me. It seemed this young woman’s boyfriend had paid too much attention to another female’s décolletage, and she had a problem with that—a loud one! Ah, kids. How quickly they turned a minor annoyance into a huge scene. On the one hand, I felt sorry for the young boyfriend with the sloping shoulders, and on the other, I knew he’d probably brought this on himself.
Women look at forbidden fruit, but at least they know how to be subtle about it. A woman sees a good-looking man, thinks
nice
, and turns her attention to more important things in life.
A man, on the other hand, sees a good-looking woman, thinks
not bad
, checks her rack, thinks
wow
, checks her ass, thinks
sweet
, rechecks the rack, imagines the whole picture without clothes, and eventually cranes his neck to reevaluate the entire appearance from behind.
Come on, gentlemen. You can’t deny it, can you?
This must have been what the jealous girl was thinking, because she decided to finish off her tirade with a resounding slap to the face before disappearing into the crowd. The poor guy stood there a minute, holding his face, without making any attempt to follow her. Maybe he was deciding whether she was really worth the trouble or whether he should just go back to checking out other girls. He eventually chose his girlfriend and glumly slunk after her.
I hoped they’d work it out. Breaking up over something so trivial was ridiculous.
“Good evening, beautiful,” someone whispered in my ear.
I turned my head, astonished, and looked directly into Desiderio’s smiling face.
What’s he doing here?
And why the hell does he have to be so good-looking?
He was wearing stonewashed jeans. His dark blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves was the same color as his eyes, which were competing with the lights bouncing off the disco ball.
“You look ravishing.” He looked me up and down without shame.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed at him, trying to disguise my embarrassment.
“I’m your personal stalker. Have you already forgotten?” I was not amused, and he swiftly corrected himself. “I’m here with some friends.”
“I see.”
“Hey, I live here. It’s not that unusual, is it?”
“Hm.” I pretended to be disinterested and let my eyes wander across the room.
After a while, Desiderio launched his next attack. “Have I already mentioned that you are by far the most stunning woman here this evening?”
For heaven’s sake!
Despite the strange things taking place in my lower abdomen and the burning heat in my ears, I managed to put on my haughtiest face and say, “I know.”
Desiderio laughed. “Will I ever be able to pay you a compliment that you enjoy?”
“No.”
At least not one I would admit to enjoying.
He rolled his eyes. “You really are a tough nut to crack, you know that?”
“Yes.” I shrugged. “But I’ve told you more than once that you don’t stand a chance. Are you just now getting it?”
“There is nothing that cannot be cracked,” he said roguishly, destroying my hope that he might at last leave me alone. “All you need is the right tool.”
“Ha! And you think you have the right tool?”
“Yes, I do. Shall I show it to you?”
Good God.
Now things were really getting out of hand.
“Gross!” I shouted, insulted. “Keep your fucking toolbox closed!”
Although just a little peek . . .
He shook his head reproachfully. “Really, Lena! I’m shocked that you’d think such dirty things.”
I had to admit I was equally shocked by where my mind had just gone.
“Then don’t talk about showing me your tool,” I groused, feeling caught. “And in the future, please spare me these mental images.”
His grin almost reached both ears. “You have mental images? Could you describe them to me?”
Instantly my face was on fire. I found myself in this situation every single time I underestimated Desiderio’s chutzpah.
I hastily finished my wine spritzer and pressed the empty glass into his hand. “Here, hold this for a sec.”
And I took off.
I plunged into the crowd and blundered along to the restrooms, where I got into the seemingly endless line and started beating myself up about fleeing from Desiderio.
Why could I not just keep my cool and respond to his double entendres with a smile? Why did he make me act like a shy schoolgirl?
I’d been called many things in my life, but shy wasn’t one of them. And normally, when it came to being crass, I could absolutely keep up with the men if I had to. Blushing and speechlessness were normally not problems that I had.
By now, the shots of schnapps were beginning to have their effect, and I sensed my legs becoming a little unsteady. The line inched along slowly. As I stood by the door, Steffi, of all people, teetered out toward me.
Were only idiots out this evening?
We looked each other over with mutual disgust and forced out hellos, and then she was gone.
What a stupid cow! Did she not own a mirror?
Steffi was wearing a skirt that would more honestly have been sold as a broad belt. To complement it, she had on a shiny top with an open back that plunged almost to her butt. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought she was working in a certain profession.
How embarrassing!
Spotting a few ugly pimples on her naked shoulders improved my mood immensely. I gloated and grinned as I watched her leave. When I finally reached a stall, I really did have to pee.
As I walked back to the bar, Desiderio was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, my friends had disappeared as well.
Great.
Admittedly, I had run away, so why should anyone wait for me?
I used brute force to get hold of a Coke, hoping to counteract total intoxication, and then started my search for the others. I slowly meandered through the large rooms and looked around carefully.
Well, what I was doing wasn’t really meandering, because anything so relaxed was absolutely impossible in these throngs. Ultimately, I wound up tightly squeezed between sweaty bodies and realized I had no chance at spotting any individual trees in this insane forest.
Coincidentally, I ran into a coworker from the radiology department. Literally. Our shoulders collided and we were about to bitch at each other when we recognized one another.
“Why don’t you pay . . . Oh. Hi, Eva! I haven’t seen you for ages!” I exclaimed.
“Lena! Yeah, I’ve been on vacation,” she explained. “Dude, I almost slapped you just now. All this shoving is a real pain in my ass.”
Eva was from Poland and, despite being almost ten years older than I, she always spoke really slangy teenybopper German, sprinkling in lots of words like “dude” and “I can’t even.” Plus, she was one of those women who don’t need to inhale much while speaking and can thus spew out a lot of words at one time.
I liked Eva and her strange ways, but I could only take her for about an hour. After that, my ears and I always needed a little rest.
“Oh, I know. I think there must be at least three hundred people here tonight,” I agreed. “So? How was your vacation? Did you go away?”
She nodded and made a face. “We spent three weeks with my monster-in-law. Three weeks! Can you imagine?”
“Oh my. Was it that bad?”
“I can’t even!”
She inhaled deeply, as if she were taking a running start. Then, in one breath—which I suspected must been some sort of record—she told me every detail of her trip to visit her in-laws.
Every
detail. Since Eva had basically no sense of shame, I even learned all about her and her husband trying to have sex at his parents’ house. I knew my coworker well enough by now not to be too shocked, and I just tried to put the most salacious details out of my mind.
By the time she was finished with her account, I was already done with my Coke. I placed the bottle on the nearest table.
“Your relaxing vacation really doesn’t sound all that relaxing,” I said as Eva started to breathe again.
“Not at all. What’s new at the hospital? Did I miss anything?”
I thought for a moment. “Hm, not really. We had another guy with a missing dildo up his ass, but otherwise . . . no, nothing unusual.”
“Another one?” Eva hooted. “No shit! Why do men always have to be so greedy? If I stick something up my ass, I’ll be careful or buy something especially for anal use or whatever! There are those special things with handles to grab and not let them slip inside.”
“I really don’t know much about that stuff.” I cackled.
“Neither do I! That gay guy in the endoscopy department told me all about it one time.”
“Suuure.”
“Do you think I’m into that stuff? Nah, not my thing. But YOLO, dude. Whatever floats your boat . . .” She shuddered in disgust.
Since Eva was so wonderfully agitated about it, I shrugged and gave her a dopey grin. “Sure, whatever floats your boat . . .”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation at my teasing. Then something behind me attracted her attention.
“Hey,” she said and poked me excitedly. “Isn’t that that Castello guy?”
“DiCastello,” I corrected her. I turned around as inconspicuously as possible. Desiderio had his back halfway turned toward me, but I recognized him immediately. He was standing just a little ways away at a bar and was talking to . . .
“What’s he doing with that ho?” Eva said. My question exactly.
“Steffi,” I said with clenched teeth.
“Exactly. Dude, that chick looks nasty.”
Truer words were never spoken!
I studied the mess of makeup, plastic, and cheap material and wondered what she was telling Desiderio at that moment. Judging by the way she was twirling the strands of her hair around her finger, it must have been something quite interesting. Whenever he answered, she leaned forward, provocatively baring her scrawny neck.
Jesus. There was hardly a clearer way of saying
Take me!
Horrible.
Apparently, Desiderio had said something incredibly funny, because she touched his shoulder and threw back her head as she laughed.
I turned away, furious.
“My God, check him out!” Eva whispered as she continued watching the two. “What a hottie. If I weren’t married, I’d send that slut over there packing, I swear. I’d grab that guy and then shit would get real!”
I grimly chewed my lower lip. Even without looking, I knew Desiderio was an enticing sight even from behind. His well-formed shoulders and straight back were well delineated under the thin material of his shirt. And I remembered all too well how good that back looked naked . . .
Fine! I had to admit to myself that I was not immune to Desiderio’s sexual charisma. But I still had several reasons for not succumbing to it:
OK, so I couldn’t think of a third reason. But two should be enough, right?
So why was I aching to go over to him, shove Steffi aside, and throw myself into his arms? Maybe Vera was right and my sex life was not as fulfilling as I’d thought. If it was, why did my hormones do somersaults at the sight of him?
“You know, I’m going to grab another drink, OK?” I told Eva, hoping she would not notice my change of mood. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Sure. If not, I’ll see you back at work soon. Later!”
Anxious to get as far away as possible from Desiderio, I continued my search for my friends.
At long last, I discovered the three of them in the main room, where they had succeeded in staking out a relatively large space at the bar.