Looking Through Windows (25 page)

Chapter 47

"
Z
urich is beautiful, and the surrounding countryside is unbelievable. Snow covers everything in an immaculate coat of white now, but spring will come soon, and I intend to do a lot of hiking." Emily sat back and looked out the window. A fresh snow was falling. It was mid-February, and she was getting restless for spring. She turned back to her letter to Laura. "If you have vacation time coming, think about a trip to Europe. It would be great to see you."

She dropped the letter in the post on her way to L'Ecole. It was Saturday, but she had a session scheduled with a Danish consul. One thing she had quickly learned was there was no such thing as a set schedule. She and the other instructors were often asked to meet clients at odd hours, and they tried to accommodate those requests whenever possible.

Madame Choubert seemed to be pleased with Emily's performance thus far. Emily knew that several clients had written favorable letters regarding her assistance, but the only official acknowledgment had been an approving nod and smile from Madame.

Following her session with the consul, she hurried back to her flat where she packed a backpack with food and water. She changed into layered tights and shirts, pulling on windproof pants and a jacket over top. She noticed her left knee was still swollen and sore. She rubbed it, wondering how long it would take this sprain to get better. She strapped snowshoes to her backpack, and took a bus south along the lake road to a small town where she got off and donned her snowshoes at the head of a trail, which disappeared into the woods. The Swiss enjoyed skiing and snowboarding, but could not seem to understand why anyone would want to use anything as clumsy as snowshoes.

As she jogged along the path, the pines closed around her, shutting out all sound except her breathing and the soft whoosh and plop of her snowshoes. She had found these excursions to be lifesaving, getting her out of the city to a place where phones and faxes couldn't find her. After about forty-five minutes, she came to a small overlook where the trees parted to offer a view of the lake below. She paused to drink and eat a little. As she had done countless times since coming to Zurich, she imagined how much Ann would enjoy this scene. She couldn't seem to shut Ann out of her thoughts as she had done with Caroline, but she found she didn't really want to. As she put her thermos back into her backpack, she unconsciously rubbed her knee. With her pack secure, she continued on the trail, which would loop back down toward the lake road where she could catch a bus back to Zurich.

Once back in her flat, she took a hot shower and then got out an anthology she had recently found of northern European literature, focusing more on Germanic cultures. She had arranged a couple of doctoral projects with Dr. Brooks and her committee. Madame Choubert had not given her a firm answer when asked how long this position would last. Emily had mentally committed to at least a semester, but soon she would need to make more definitive plans. At some point, she would have to talk to Ann and decide whether to return to Weston.

Chapter 48

I
t was mid-March, spring break, but instead of going to Florida or Mexico like most of her classmates, Ann was driving home for the first time since Christmas. She had finally told her mother a few weeks ago about Emily's unexplained departure.

"So what are you doing about this?" Katharine had asked.

"I'm trying to stay busy, concentrate on classes –"

"No, Ann," Katharine cut in, "what are you doing to resolve this situation?"

"I don't understand. What can I do?" Ann replied defensively. "She's the one who left with no explanation."

"Exactly. You deserve at least an explanation. We don't know Emily well, but this seems very out of character for her.  If you don't figure out why this happened, what signals you missed, you are going to have difficulty trusting your feelings and perceptions with the next person in your life. You need some resolution to this."

So Ann had called the Gundlachs to get Emily's address, fibbing and telling them she had mis-placed it. She had written a long letter expressing her confusion, asking for reasons and, after tossing out the first several attempts at this letter, telling her how much she still loved her. She had no idea if it would have had time to get to Switzerland yet, but she hadn't had any response.

 She was grateful when both her parents greeted her with a warm welcome, but no questions. Owen and Katharine both noticed how thin Ann's face looked, but didn't say anything. They had a quiet dinner and evening of television, with only casual conversation.

The next day was Saturday, so all three of them had a leisurely breakfast, reading the paper over coffee.

"By the way," Katharine remembered, "Michael is coming home today."

"Oh?" Ann looked up from the paper. "Does he know, you know… about Emily?"

"We haven't told him," her mother replied.

"Thanks," she said gratefully. She dreaded hearing him gloat about his having been right about Emily.

After breakfast, she got dressed for a walk. March was trying to make way for spring. It hadn't snowed recently and temperatures in the upper thirties had let much of the existing snow melt, leaving the ground sodden. She could smell damp earth and snowmelt mingling in the air. She went to her pine sanctuary where the ground was dry enough to sit on the thick mat of pine needles. As she sat, she listened to the whisper of the boughs shifting in the breeze. She recalled the last time she had been there, with Emily.

Lost in her thoughts, she wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there when she heard the throaty exhaust of Michael's BMW coming up the drive. She stayed where she was, trying to decide what to tell him. She had always been able to tell him anything. This distance between them felt foreign.

At last, she got up and decided not to delay any longer. She still didn't know what she would say, but she might as well get it over with. When she entered the back door into the kitchen, Michael was there with Owen and Katharine.

"God, Ann," Michael exclaimed when he saw her, "you look awful!"

Startled, she just stood there. No one else had said anything about her appearance. "It's good to see you, too," she said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, giving her a hug.

They sat down for a lunch of soup and sandwiches, but Michael kept looking at Ann out of the corner of his eye. Finally, in exasperation, she stopped her spoon in mid-delivery. "What is it?" she demanded.

Michael looked down. "I… I guess this has been pretty rough on you, I mean, Emily leaving."

Ann looked at her parents in surprise, but they shook their heads, indicating they hadn't said anything. Ann frowned, baffled. "How did you know Emily had left?"

Michael stopped chewing and stared at his plate with a blank face. After a moment, he sat back and cleared his throat. "I, uh, I know you may not believe this, but I honestly thought I was doing the right thing," he said quietly.

"What are you talking about?" Ann asked with growing frustration.

He hesitated, then pulled his wallet out and removed a folded piece of paper from one of the pockets. "This dropped out of your suitcase when you came home at Christmas," he explained, handing it to her.

Ann read the note a few times, her face going white and then becoming an angry red. She passed the note to Owen. "Michael," she said, her voice shaking with her effort to control her emotions, "I know you think my feelings for Emily are 'a perverted infatuation' as you put it, but you had no right to interfere in this. How could you?"

At the anguished look on his sister's face, Michael had to avert his eyes. "I thought I had every right to protect the family and the business from the scandal this would cause," he insisted stubbornly. "Mom, Dad, you know how people would react to this kind of thing." He prayed they would support him. His prayers were unanswered.

"Michael," Owen began sternly, "how did we raise such a bigot? You had absolutely no right to interfere in your sister's life."

Katharine seemed saddened rather than angry. "Your sister's happiness should have counted more than your fear of what people might say."

Michael squirmed under this criticism. "Well, it's only been a couple of months," he challenged.  "If this relationship is as deep as you say, call her."

Ann closed her eyes in despair. "You have no idea what she's been through, what it took for her to open up to me. She was afraid you would react in such a way that I wouldn't be able to deal with your rejection. And as far as she knows, that's exactly what happened."

There was silence for a long moment. Katharine finally reached out and laid her hand on Ann's arm. "Ann, if you still love her, you've got to try."

Ann brushed tears from her cheeks and nodded. "You're right," she agreed. "I've got to try, and hope it's not too late." She thought for a minute. "I don't have her telephone number, and I didn't bring her address with me."

To their surprise, she got up right then and went into Owen's study, closing the door behind her. She called directory assistance and got the Warners' number. Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, she dialed the number. A woman's voice answered the phone.

"Mrs. Warner?" she began, her voice quaking. "My name is Ann Hight. I'm a friend of Emily's from Weston. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get in touch with her?"

There was no answer for a few seconds, and Ann's heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Mrs. Warner could hear it.

"Yes, Ann. Hold on just a moment." There was a thump as the receiver was set down. Mrs. Warner was back in a few seconds. She gave Ann Emily's address and phone number in Zurich.

"Thank you, Mrs. Warner."

There was another brief silence. "You're welcome, Ann. Good-bye."

Ann sat there staring at the address in front of her. She felt sure that Emily had told her parents. She could imagine what the Warners must think of her, about why she never called. She went back to the kitchen. "Dad," she asked, "could you book me a flight to Zurich?"

"When?"

"Today if possible," she said. "I've got the week off, and I don't think I could explain all this over the phone."

Katharine cleared the table as Owen went to call. Michael came over, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Ann, I'm sorry," he said. "I hope you can straighten things out."

"I hope so, too, Michael," Ann replied quietly, "because if I can't, I don't know if I will forgive you for this."

Chapter 49

A
nn arrived in Zurich on Sunday at around eleven o'clock, Zurich time. For her it still felt like Sunday afternoon. She hadn't slept at all on the plane. She felt alternately anxious, excited and terrified. She had no idea if Emily was angry at what she probably thought was Ann's cowardice about telling her family. She checked into Hotel Glarnischhof, where her father had an account for his business trips to Zurich. He had called and made a reservation for her. She was greeted graciously by the desk clerk, who immediately summoned a bellhop to take her bag up for her. She forced herself to go to bed, trying to acclimate to this time zone. Eventually, she was able to fall asleep.

She awoke to bright sunlight. The bedside clock said eight o'clock. She felt disoriented, still not used to this time. She called for room service and ordered breakfast. Showering quickly, she emerged in time to hear the knock on the door. She set the tray on the table and looked out over the city as she sipped the strong Swiss coffee and nibbled at the croissants.

Somewhere out there was Emily. She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar tingle in her stomach at the thought of seeing Emily's face. She figured Emily was probably at work. Should she try to find her there, or wait until later in the day and go to her flat? She decided to wait. If Emily's reaction to seeing her was not positive, it shouldn't be at work.

Nervously, she finished eating and got dressed. She went to explore Zurich. In some ways it was like any other big city, with business people walking hurriedly to work. But the architecture of the old buildings lent a grace not found in any U.S. city. She had brought Emily's address with her, and searched for her street. Finding it, she stood in the shadow of a building on the corner, and looked up and down the broad street, just in case Emily was walking to work. Not seeing her, Ann walked along, casually eyeing the numbers on the buildings. When she saw Emily's building, her heart began pounding. She hesitated, wondering if she should knock on Emily's door, just in case she worked later hours or had the day off.

She decided to stick with her original plan and wait. There was a small café whose glass front offered a view of the entrance to Emily's building. She ordered a cup of coffee and sat down at a table near the window. She read a French newspaper as she sipped her coffee and kept a casual eye on the activity outside. After about an hour, she gathered her coat to leave, deciding she would return to the café in the afternoon and wait for Emily to get off work.

As she put her coat on, she saw Emily coming up the street. She stopped with one arm in a sleeve, her heart in her throat. Emily's hair was a little longer, and she looked thin. Ann slid her other arm into her coat as she walked toward the door. Before she could push the door open, a blonde woman came down the steps of Emily's building and ran to Emily, giving her a hug. Slipping her arm through Emily's, the blonde laughed and talked as they crossed the street, coming toward the café.