Arrhythmia (17 page)

Chapter 20

The following day, I dutifully went to my primary-care doctor and had my sick leave extended through the following Wednesday. According to the duty roster, I was off for a couple days after that anyway, so I didn’t need to feel guilty about someone having to cover my shift while I was using the time off to gallivant around with Desiderio.

Desiderio . . . date . . . disaster . . .

To distract myself, I called Sandra about my extended sick leave. I felt I owed her an explanation, so I told her briefly about the attack. My coworkers would find out about it sooner or later and, this way, they had a whole week to gossip as viciously as they pleased. Maybe by the time I got back to work, the first flush of excitement would have passed.

Sandra was as shocked and stunned as all the others.

I calmed her down a little by assuring her that, considering the circumstances, I was quite well and, apart from my cheek, almost nothing hurt that much. I chose not to mention the lacerated arm.

Of course, she wished me all the best and made me promise that I would take the time necessary to get better.

After I ended the call, I wondered how many coworkers were getting the news at that very moment. I was sure even the custodian would have heard about it by evening—which was also the reason I’d been careful to omit Desiderio’s part in the incident.

Which brings me back to the subject of Desiderio . . .

Since our phone conversation, I hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a second. Even when I forced myself to think about other matters, in some mysterious way I always ended up daydreaming about the man with the ocean-blue eyes.

It was enough to drive a person to distraction.

Even when Frank—armed with furniture catalogs and accompanied by Vera and Sebastian—laid siege to my apartment, my thoughts constantly swung back around to the impending date.

Vera was not my best friend for nothing, and it didn’t take long before she intercepted me in the kitchen with a smug grin.

“Let’s hear it,” she demanded and poked me in the side.

“Huh?”

“No ‘huh’! Glassy look, distraction, fixed smile . . . So, tell me: When are you going out?”

Yes, Vera was amazing. Since there was no sense in any more denials, I sighed, “Friday.”

“Yippee!” she screeched and danced around me like a madwoman.

She was hugging me when the two men appeared in the doorway.

“What’s going on here?” Sebastian wanted to know.

“Lena has a daaaate!”

“Vera!” Blushing, I shoved the madwoman in front of me. “We’re not in kindergarten. Grow up already!”

“Hee-hee, grow up yourself,” she giggled, unfazed. “At your age, you don’t have to blush just because you have a date; did you know that?”

“So tell us, who’s the lucky guy? Do we know him?” Sebastian inquired.

I gave off some strange noises signaling a general malaise and tried to make myself invisible.

Vera, being Vera, couldn’t resist answering for me.

“Her rescuer!” she trumpeted and clapped her hands, whooping with joy. She reminded me of the Energizer Bunny. If only she had a switch on her back to turn her off. But that would be too good to be true.

Sebastian looked as delighted as his fiancée. “The doctor? Well done. We only talked for a few minutes, but he really seemed very nice.”

“Pff,” was Frank’s reaction.

“You don’t think so?” asked Sebastian.

Frank shrugged. “Hmph. I think he seemed a bit conceited.”

Oh, how true . . .

“
I
think,” Vera chimed in, “that he is very pleasant and deserves a chance. And besides, the two are a perfect match. Sorry, no offense.” I waved my hand to protest. “Anyway, I’m happy for you! Where are you two going?”

“No idea. He said he wanted to surprise me.”

“Oh, how romantic,” Vera gushed.

“Or risky,” Frank grumbled. “What if you end up doing something you absolutely hate?”

“Such as?” Vera asked, looking at him pointedly.

“Dunno. Maybe he wants to take you to a technological museum? Or fishing?”

What?

“Don’t be so ridiculous! Does Desiderio look like someone who goes fishing?”

“Italians like to eat fish, so who knows?”

Go fishing?

My face must have spoken volumes, because Vera patted me on the shoulder reassuringly and shot daggers at Frank with her eyes. “What nonsense. Stop scaring the kiddo before she has second thoughts.”

“Uh, the ‘kiddo’ is standing right here,” I piped up.

“Just expressing my opinion on the matter,” Frank said defensively.

“No one asked,” Vera snarled.

“Oh yeah? Well, Lena is my friend too!”

“Precisely! And that’s why you should be happy for her instead of bad-mouthing everything!”

“I didn’t bad-mouth anything; I merely expressed . . . reservations.”

“Reservations? And why, pray tell, do you have reservations?”

Standing between the two squabblers, I was at a loss for what to say. In the end, it was Sebastian who put an end to the drama.

“Enough!” he commanded. “Both of you! Lena has a date and we are happy for her, and now let’s talk about something else. Jeez!”

Frank looked at the floor, embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled in Vera’s direction.

“It’s all right,” she said.

The two men left the kitchen.

“What was that about?” I quietly asked Vera.

“No idea,” she answered, sounding pensive. Finally, she cleared her throat and looked at me with flashing eyes. “Much more important: What are you going to wear?”

“I don’t know!” I started lamenting immediately. “I don’t even know what the occasion is. Oh my God, what if I put on jeans and he takes me to a fancy restaurant? Or what if I put on my cocktail dress and he takes me to a beer garden? Help!”

“Yes, that presents a real problem,” Vera agreed. “If I were you, I would ask Desiderio rather than risk a disaster like that. All he has to do is give you a general idea.”

I nodded. “OK.”

Vera looked at me expectantly. I looked back at her, puzzled.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, aren’t you going to call him?”

“No! At least not while you’re here.”

Disappointed, Vera pouted. Still, I was adamant. I could vividly imagine her bemused face while she listened to my stuttering performance on the phone, and I really was not in the mood to do that to myself.

Even once my friends had left, I didn’t feel like making a fool of myself on the telephone again. This reluctance lasted three whole days.

On the third night, I was lying in bed, wide awake and fully aware that I would be in for a sleepless night if I didn’t just get over myself. I pulled out my cell phone.

Still being the coward I was, a text message was the best I could manage:

Hey! Your surprise presents me with a serious feminine problem: I have no idea what to wear! Could you please give me a little hint?

There, now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it? And it had taken me three days? Good grief.

Although it was just before midnight, Desiderio’s answer was immediate:

I don’t want to divulge too much, but I don’t want to ignore your very serious problem. So here is my hint: we’ll be outdoors, you should wear comfortable shoes, and we will be moving around a lot.

Yikes. Was he planning to take me hiking?

Somewhat in shock, I shared my suspicion:

I hope you’re not planning a nighttime hike! Because I’m not really the athletic type . . . Did I wake you or are you always up so late?

As I read his reply, I could just see his crooked smile:

No worries, little warrioress, I’m lying in bed, but I’m still awake. Although I cannot imagine anything lovelier than to be awakened by you. As to your fear—we’re not going hiking. Don’t worry. You’ll like my plan, I know it!

I felt hot and cold at the same time. Why did he always have to express himself like that? And why couldn’t I reply in an equally charming way? Once again, I felt hopelessly out of my depth. My thumb hovered over the keys for a moment while I feverishly thought of something pleasant to write.

Eventually I typed:

OK, I’m excited about Friday. Good night and see you soon!

Good night and see you soon? Man, am I poetic.

And sure enough, Desiderio’s answer was on another plane:

I can hardly wait myself. I wish you a good night too and pleasant dreams. Mine are sure to be pleasant because I already know you will be in them.

What a flatterer . . .

I set my phone on the nightstand with a grin and closed my eyes. Desiderio’s face appeared before me at once. I fell asleep with that beautiful picture in my head.

Chapter 21

It was Friday.
That
Friday.

I had been nervous during the last few days, but now I was nearing an actual nervous breakdown. I’d asked myself the whole time what had gotten into me when I’d agreed to go out with Desiderio. The date went against all my principles and stood in marked contrast to what I had promised myself with respect to that manipulative pretty boy. I should never have given in to him!

I had been pacing about in my apartment since dawn and asking myself the same question over and over again: Would I regret my decision?

Of course, I found no answer to my question. At least not yet.

I stopped in the middle of my living room, chewing on my fingernails. I looked at my phone for the umpteenth time and wrestled with the idea of canceling the date.

No. I refused to show such weakness!

I would go through with this!

I resolutely walked into the bathroom and scrutinized my reflection. Throughout the past week, I had done this at almost hourly intervals, and every time, I had appealed to my self-healing power to do its best. And in fact, by this time, my shiner had faded to a light blue-green hue that could easily be concealed with makeup.

Thank God
.

Although I still had more than two hours left, I rehearsed my makeup. The result was quite impressive. Then I remembered that I still had to take a shower and so, half an hour later, I applied my makeup once more.

I spent the following half hour in front of my closet. Comfortable and suitable for the outdoors . . . Kind of a challenging assignment. It was already September, and although the temperature was still mild, later, after the sun had set, it would surely cool off fast. After changing eight times, I settled on a pair of jeans with a matching denim jacket, a simple black T-shirt, sneakers, and, just in case, a soft-shell jacket. That should be pretty versatile, right?

Right???

Man, I really had to stop making myself crazy like this. Especially since I hardly had any fingernails left to chew on.

One hour to go.

I returned to the bathroom and combed my hair. I put it in a ponytail, then a bun, then back to a ponytail. Then I shook it out, piled it on top of my head for an updo, braided it, shook it out again . . .

Enough already! A ponytail would do.

Another half hour.

I sat on my couch and gnawed on a finger because I had chewed off the nail. I was fully dressed, had stowed my wallet and cell phone, and was holding the key to my apartment. And yet I felt woefully unprepared.

Desiderio and his stupid surprise! I hated not knowing what to expect. It made things so unpredictable and hard to control.

My phone rang and my heart immediately began to race.

Was it Desiderio? Was he calling to cancel?

Thank God!

But why would he suddenly cancel?

Feverishly, I fumbled in my pants pocket for my phone and took a deep breath. It was only Vera.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

She giggled. “Hee-hee, I just wanted to know if you were still responsive or if you’re already in a coma from the excitement.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” I mocked her, although she wasn’t far off the mark.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Are you all ready?”

“Yes.”

“This early? Uh-oh, you must be really nervous.”

I groaned. “Veraaaa! What do you want?”

“Nothing, really. I just wanted to hear your voice to see—”

“Thanks for calling, you dork!” I growled and hung up.

Just a few seconds later, I received a text message from her:

Hee hee hee. Have fun! Don’t make out too much!

The woman really knew how to get on my nerves.

Ten minutes to go.

I began to roam around my apartment again. Every time I passed a mirror, I scrutinized my appearance. The black eye was totally hidden. I jingled my key chain like a prison warden while I paced.

When the doorbell rang, the key chain fell to the floor with a loud clang.

Five minutes to six! He was early! Much too early!

My God, what was I going to do now?

How about just calming down for a change?
the rest of my wits were telling me, desperately trying to stay on top.

All right, then. Pick up keys, check reflection, operate intercom.

“On my way down,” I said, in a honeyed voice, into the gray box on the wall.

Then I straightened my shoulders and left the apartment.

Desiderio was leaning against a black car. An Alfa Romeo—how fitting. Weak-kneed, I went up to him, trying to appear as relaxed as he did. The closer I got, the more I failed in my endeavor. He just looked incredible and, next to him, I felt like a yokel.

He was wearing a plain white button-down shirt, and those amazing faded jeans were held around his slender hips by a broad leather belt. All in all, nothing special, and I began to realize that, no matter what this man wore, he would always look like a demigod.

Desiderio detached himself from his car as I approached.

“Hi,” he said and beamed at me. I had feared that he might come up and give me a kiss on the cheek, but all he did was graciously open the passenger door and say, “If you please.”

Relieved, I complied. “Why, thank you, sir,” I joked and tried to get in gracefully. With some effort, I managed not to plop directly onto the seat, despite the fact that my legs nearly failed me when I squeezed past Desiderio and he said softly, “You look ravishing this evening, madam.”

My God, how am I supposed to make it through an entire evening like this?

While Desiderio walked around the car, I did some deep-breathing exercises. I hadn’t even come close to calming myself down by the time he was seated next to me.

Right next to me.

A little too close, considering my present condition, but since we were in a car—and a sports car at that—I had no alternative.

Desiderio started the engine. “Ready?” he asked with a grin.

No!

I nodded and fastened my seat belt. The Alfa started moving with a soft purr. The doors locked automatically.

The noise caused me to stiffen for a second. Now I was imprisoned on the way to the unknown . . .

“On the backseat?” he was asking.

What???
We’d barely started moving and he already wanted to get me in the backseat?

“Did you want to put your jacket on the backseat?” he calmly repeated.

“Oh, I see. Uh, yes.” Relieved, I placed the soft-shell in the back.

“What did you think I said?” he laughed.

“Dunno,” I mumbled and began cracking my knuckles. “Nice car. It’s pretty new, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’ve had this car for about six months.” He patted the steering wheel affectionately. “Italian workmanship.”

I suppressed a smart-alecky reply and instead asked, “Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s still a surprise.”

“Hm.” I cracked my knuckles again.

“Does that make you nervous?” he asked, looking at my fingers.

“No!” I quickly hid my telltale hands between my thighs. “Why?”

“No reason.”

We left Wollbach, and Desiderio turned onto the highway. He increased his speed, and I couldn’t help but watch as he shifted gears. I was almost disappointed when he reached the sixth and last gear and placed his slender hand with the delicate fingers back on the steering wheel.

I turned my attention to the road.

“How long till we get there?” I asked.

“Oh, a while.”

“How long exactly?”

“A while.”

“You’re driving me crazy.” I sighed with resignation and leaned back.

“I’m glad.”

“That wasn’t meant as a compliment!”

Desiderio looked at me in surprise. “Really?”

“No,” I grumbled and again asked myself what the hell I had gotten myself into with this date.

He stole a glance over at me before turning his eyes back to the road. “Is it that you don’t like surprises in general or is it because you still don’t trust me?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “In general. I think.”

“You think?” He bit his beautiful lower lip. “OK, will you promise me something?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me that you will give me a chance today,” he solemnly urged me. “If I screw it up, you can hate me forever.”

I swallowed and didn’t know how to answer him.

Finally, I softly answered, “OK.”

He nodded happily and smiled to himself. I sneaked a look at his profile and couldn’t help but grin to myself. I didn’t know precisely why I was grinning; it just felt good. I gradually began to relax and was able to keep my hands in a normal position—despite the fact that his irresistible aftershave started wafting over to me.

“Since we’re going to be on the road for a ‘while,’ you might as well tell me the latest from the ER,” I suggested.

“I’d love to. But really, not that much has happened in the last two weeks.”

“No drama, no bizarre accidents, no massive collisions?”

“No. Although . . . Did you know that the male nurse in endoscopy is gay?”

I giggled. “Sure. Oh, wait! He didn’t come on to you, did he?”

“He sure did!” He chuckled cheerfully. “A real pro; I have to hand it to him. But he accepted my rejection with good humor.”

Little by little, we found ourselves having a carefree conversation about work and our colleagues. While the landscape rolled by, I loosened up until I was finally myself. Sometimes, when our eyes met, my heart would begin its annoying flutter, but it calmed down again pretty quickly.

We’d been on the road for a good hour and it was starting to get dark outside when, during a lull in the conversation, Desiderio turned up the music a little. A sound rang out, like a mixture of electric guitar and shouting.

“God, what is that?” I asked and made a face.

“Don’t you like it?”

I shook my head vigorously. “Not at all my cup of tea!”

“Hm,” he said quietly and looked at me in surprise. “But I thought you liked Iron Maiden?”

“Iron . . . Oh!” I didn’t know what shocked me more, the fact that he remembered the shirt I’d been wearing during our first encounter on the sidewalk or the fact that he really believed I would like music like this. Probably the former.

“You know, that shirt . . . My goodness, I really have no idea why I even own it, but I sleep in it and that day I was in a big rush, and that’s why I looked so terrible,” I tried to explain.

“I didn’t think you looked terrible.”

“What? Please! I had just climbed out of bed and was still bleary eyed and . . .”

“And still beautiful.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, whatever you say.” I put him off distractedly and tried not to blush. I didn’t know what else to say, so I was relieved that Desiderio had to focus on the road for a minute as he signaled and turned.

“Munich?” I ascertained this with astonishment and looked around. I hadn’t realized that the sports car had carried us so far from Wollbach already.

“Correct.”

“OK, and what are we going to do here?”

“Just wait. We’ll be there soon.”

I watched the urban bustle on the Ringstrasse and tried to figure out where Desiderio was taking me.

It was only after the second sign for the Olympic Stadium that it hit me.

“We’re going to see Pink!” I squeaked.

He just smiled, which answered my question. I drummed my hands on my thighs in excitement as the brightly lit stadium came in sight. While Desiderio was trying to find a place to park, I fidgeted like a small child. I could hardly believe my good fortune.

I was going to see Pink live!

He had no sooner parked his Alfa than I jumped out.

“Do you want to take your jacket?” Desiderio wanted to know.

“No, it’ll only get in the way,” I said as I bounced up and down.

“Don’t worry, we still have an hour before the concert starts,” he said, visibly amused by my impatience.

“An hour? We still have to get inside and we have to squeeze to the front and by then we’ll practically be late!” I whined.

Again, he kept his cool. Unruffled, he stopped and chuckled to himself. “I have the feeling my surprise was just right.”

Excitement and anticipation made me lose any trace of shyness. Overjoyed, I hopped up to Desiderio and gave him a hug. “Oh yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I screeched in his ear and placed a big smacking kiss on his cheek.

Then I put my arm through his and dragged him toward the main entrance.

The concert was incredible!

We had to abandon my plan of squeezing up to the front because of the acute crushing hazard, but that didn’t matter. We made it to the front third of the audience and allowed ourselves to be carried away by the ambience.

We cheered, we bawled out songs, and we swayed to and fro until long past midnight. Pink lived up to her superstar image.

After the last encore, we allowed the crowd to push us to the exit, and I entered the cool night air in a daze.

“That was sooo amazing!” I laughed as I stumbled into Desiderio.

All the euphoria made me feel intoxicated. I felt loose, in a good mood, and I talked nonstop. In my mind’s eye, I could see the flashing spotlights, the awesome rocker as she whirled around on the stage . . . I would never forget this evening.

“How often did she change? There must have been at least twenty costumes!” I gushed.

“No idea,” said Desiderio, “but the stage show was really fantastic.”

“That’s an understatement. It was staggering, indescribable, phenomenal!”

The sight of the black Alfa dampened my transcendent mood. The evening would be over once we got in. But I didn’t want it to ever end! I wanted to continue cheering, singing, and dancing. And the shoulder I had been leaning on all night was so wonderfully warm and strong . . .

Desiderio unlocked the car with his remote control. The blinking headlights depressed me.

“Oh, I don’t want it to be over!” I huffed loudly as I reluctantly left the strong shoulder to get in on the passenger side.