He let go of her wrist and looked up at the ceiling. Shelly thought she saw tears. Jonathan was blinking back tears! Any love she had formerly felt for this man instantly multiplied and coursed through her being, forcing tears to her own eyes.
“I’ll see you later,” Shelly said, blinking quickly and hoping that by stepping away she would allow Jonathan the opportunity to collect his emotions before he had to sit through this all-day staff meeting. Her mind spun with plans for what they would do tonight. She wondered if he could slip out of the meeting a little early so they could go for a twilight stroll along the Neckar River.
“Shel,” he said, as she turned to locate her sister.
“Yes?”
Jonathan didn’t stop the two tears that escaped and rolled down his smooth shaven cheeks. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. She raised her eyebrows and waited for a cue.
Before he could give any indication of what was brewing in his melancholy mind, someone entered the room and broke their concentration by calling out, “Johnny!”
At any other time, Shelly would have burst out laughing to hear someone call Jonathan “Johnny.” He had never liked that name. He didn’t even like “John.” Ever since he found out that “John” and “Johnny” were sometimes used to mean a bathroom, he refused to let anyone call him anything other than Jonathan.
He swallowed hard. The tears evaporated, and as he turned away from Shelly, a short, spunky young woman with brown hair and brown eyes attached herself to his side and looped her arm around his middle. “I thought you were going to come over and meet me this morning,” she said. “Did you get the flowers?”
“I put them over there on the table,” he said, looking at the young woman and smiling.
Shelly thought she looked a little too old to be one of his high school students and a little too young to be a staff member. Her head barely came up to his shoulder.
“Elena,” Jonathan said, “I’d like you to meet Shelly Graham. This is Elena Mills.”
“Hi,” Elena said brightly, turning her attention to Shelly for the first time. “Are you new?”
“No, just visiting,” Shelly said, returning the same bright smile that Elena was smiling at her.
“Okay, everyone!” Mike called from the front of the room. “Find a seat. Let’s get started.”
“Shelly and I grew up together,” Jonathan explained, trying to look at Shelly but seeming to have difficulty keeping his eyes on her.
“Really? Cool. Seattle?”
Shelly nodded.
“This is perfect, isn’t it, Johnny?” Elena turned back to Shelly. “You picked the perfect day to come visit.”
“Come on, people,” Mike said loudly. “Find a seat.”
Jonathan didn’t respond to Elena’s comment.
“We better sit down,” she said, glancing over at the table. “I’ll quickly put the flowers in water. You save me a seat, okay, Johnny?”
“Nice meeting you,” Shelly said.
“Oh, you can’t go yet,” Elena said, turning back around with a swish. “You have to stay. Just five minutes. It’ll mean a lot to Johnny. Tell her she can’t go.” Elena turned her energy back to the bouquet.
Shelly’s and Jonathan’s eyes met one more time. It seemed he had the words right there, wadded up in his throat, but just couldn’t say them. Shelly couldn’t figure out what was going on. With a great effort, Jonathan tilted his head and said in a tone she had only heard him use once before, “Shelly, don’t go.” It didn’t sound at all the way Elena’s “don’t go” had sounded. For a flash of a moment, Shelly remembered that same untamed voice. That was the voice Jonathan had used in the cab of the truck when he said, “You know I’ll always love you.” It seemed it had taken him five years to finish that sentence with, “Shelly, don’t go.”
But she had gone. She had gone far away and had been out of his life for many years. Not until this moment did Shelly begin to understand the pain she had caused her best friend when she left. She wanted to fall into his arms and tell him she was sorry. Everything inside her urged her to grab hold of him and say, “Jonathan, I’m back. I want you back.”
She couldn’t do it, not in this public place. Not now. It would be too embarrassing to both of them. No, their reunion could wait. Shelly could hold back this one, last time.
“We’re going to start with an announcement,” Mike said from the front.
Most of the staff were seated. Meredith was working her way around to the back door. Shelly and Jonathan were still standing next to each other by the back table where Elena was quickly arranging the flowers behind a beautiful tray of pastry.
“I received a call this morning that one of our staff members has an announcement to make.” Mike pointed toward the back of the room where Shelly and Jonathan were standing. “Go ahead, Jonathan. You have the floor.”
Every eye turned toward them. Jonathan gave Shelly one last, searching gaze. Again she raised her eyebrows as if to say, “What?”
Elena moved in between Shelly and Jonathan and linked her arm in his. Jonathan looked down at Elena’s bright, smiling face. His smile seemed to return, as if he had just drawn the strength he needed from this young sprite.
“Go ahead,” Elena said.
“Well,” Jonathan stammered. “I guess, um …”
Elena laughed and turned to face the group. “I think we’re both still a little shocked, so I’ll tell you. Last night Jonathan and I decided to get married.”
Shelly physically staggered backward. She caught herself on the end of the serving table as the staff let out a wild cheer for the newly engaged couple. Her sudden contact with the table shook the vase, causing it to topple and crash to the floor, scattering the bouquet and sending water and glass everywhere.
“Be careful,” Meredith said. She grabbed a dish towel and immediately rushed in. “It’s okay,” she called out. “I’ve got it.”
Shelly couldn’t look at Jonathan. She could barely breathe. Moving as if in a dream, she cautiously made her way to the back of the table where Meredith was carefully picking up the shards of glass with the dish towel.
“It’s okay,” Meredith whispered to her. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath, Shel. It’s okay.”
Bending down, Shelly took a shallow breath and then another. She blinked back the tears and gathered up the roses.
Chapter Thirteen
She’s still pretty wiped out,” Shelly heard her sister telling Jana outside the guest bedroom door that evening. “I think she would rather stay here while you guys all go out to dinner. I was thinking of staying, too. This jet lag really catches you the second night, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it can catch up with you. Will you be okay?” Jana said. “There’s not a lot to eat here. Do you want us to bring back something for you?”
“No, we had a late lunch. We’ll be fine. Thanks. You guys have fun.”
Shelly heard the door to the apartment close and then the door to the guest room open. “You’re a saint,” she said to Meredith. Shelly was curled up in bed with blankets heaped over her. She had pulled on warm socks and crawled into bed at three-thirty that afternoon, when the shock of the day had taken its toll.
At first, she had tried to act as if Jonathan’s engagement were nothing. When Meredith and she left the staff meeting at the church, Shelly insisted they go up to the castle as planned. With all her attention focused on the tour guide, she tried to take in the history of the lovely old bastion.
The bit of information that struck her interest was that this fortress, which the medieval world had thought was impenetrable, had in fact been plundered. Not by a cannonball or a raid from the outside. The destruction had come when a fire was set in one of the towers where all the ammunition was stored. With one loud bang, the tower split, and the indestructible bricks crumbled into a pile. That corner of the castle had never been restored.
Hanging back from the tour group, Shelly lingered at the front of the castle by the w
aist-high wall and gazed on the city below. Yesterday she had looked up at this fortress and thought it immovable. Today she stood within its influence and saw firsthand how even the surest of things in life can be destroyed in one explosive moment.
Below, Heidelberg stretched out on the banks of the Neckar River. Red-tile roofs clustered together hiding their inhabitants the way a hen protects her wee ones. Across the river a hill swelled above the buildings on the water’s edge. The great green hump faced the castle in a silent stare down. On the hill’s spine, splashes of gold, orange, and yellow were splattered against the green as if they were blobs from a painter’s brush. No pattern or order existed in the arrangement of the buildings or the colors, but somehow it all blended to make a breathtaking picture.
In the center stood a grand church, which had donned its black spire cap and wore its black roof like a shawl flung over a russet-colored brick gown. Martin Luther had preached there, the guide had said. Unlike the buffeted castle, the church stood unscathed after all these years. Worship services were still held there.
“A mighty fortress is our God,” Shelly remembered from her years of Sunday morning hymn singing. “A bulwark never failing; our helper he, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing.”
She couldn’t remember the rest of the first verse and moved on to the second, humming softly. “Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing, were not the right man on our side, the man of God’s own choosing. Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is he; Lord Sabaoth his name, from age to age the same, and he must win the battle.”
If she remembered right, Martin Luther was the one who wrote that hymn. Did he come up with the bulwark image after seeing this fortress? Or was it some other castle? Germany was full of them, according to the guide, and full of churches as well.
This was the homeland of her relatives on her mother’s side. Shelly thought of the paper Mom had given her a few days before with the information from Shelly’s grandmother as to where her ancestors were from. It might be kind of fun to search out the small town and church where her great-great-great-grandfather had once lived and preached.
The idea seemed especially good now that her coming days would not be filled with quiet dinners with Jonathan or strolls along the river. Shelly fought back the bitter taste that formed in her mouth as she allowed herself to make that admission.
It was time for a new plan and some new dreams. How foolish she had been to let her imagination take her to a dead end with Jonathan. She should have known better.
Meredith finished the guided tour and then came and stood silently beside Shelly. They admired the view, discussed the many austere statues, took some pictures, and then started back to Jana and Mike’s on foot. They had taken a tour bus up the hill, but it didn’t seem too threatening to try to walk down it. About halfway down the steep, winding road, they ducked into a small restaurant and ordered Schnitzel.
“It was the only thing on the menu I could pronounce,” Meredith said after the waiter walked away. “I hope Apfelsaft is apple juice.”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” Shelly said. “If not, we’ll make a new discovery.” A cold snap followed her words. Discovery used to be a fun word. Today her discovery about Jonathan and Elena had destroyed that concept. She held at bay all the thoughts that wanted to pounce on her when her mind floated over to Jonathan.
The breaded veal arrived and turned out to be a nice, tender piece of meat. The Apfelsaft was warm but definitely apple juice. Not very exciting.
The two sisters talked about how cold it had turned since the clouds had moved in. Meredith kindly didn’t say a word about Jonathan.
They walked home at least a mile, maybe more, in a drizzle. As soon as they reached the apartment, Shelly climbed into bed in an effort to warm up.
For an hour she had been trying to, but she still felt cold, cold from the inside out. Her screaming emotions wouldn’t quiet down long enough for her exhausted body to sleep, which only made her more tired.
“How are you doing?” Meredith asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and giving Shelly’s foot a squeeze.
“I’m freezing,” Shelly said.
“Do you think you’re coming down with something?”
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to warm up. I can’t sleep.”
“Why don’t I see if I can make something hot to drink? Jana might have some cocoa or some tea.”
Meredith padded out into the silent apartment. Shelly could hear her going through the cupboards. “I found a bag of loose tea. How does jasmine tea sound to you?”
“Fine,” Shelly called back. Pulling herself up, she flipped on the light beside the bed and checked her travel alarm clock. The incandescent green numbers blared out “5:52.” She drew the blanket up over her shoulders and sat with her back against the chilled wall with only a pillow to insulate her from it.
Her mom used to have a cure for a chill on a damp Seattle winter day. She used to say, “The best cure for a chill is a broom.” She meant, of course, “Get up and do something useful, like sweeping the floor, and you’ll warm up real fast.”
“Do you want anything to eat?” Meredith asked, popping her head back into the room.
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“The tea should be ready in a minute. Would you like me to rub your feet or anything?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Do you want another pillow?”
“Meredith,” Shelly snapped, “cut it out! I’m not your little first aid project. I’m cold. That’s all.”
“You’re in shock,” Meredith stated. “I think even you will have to admit I have been the perfect sister in this whole catastrophe. I’ve treated you and the situation with utmost honor, and I haven’t made a peep about it.” Her face was turning red. She folded her arms across her chest and stuck her chin out. “I guess I shouldn’t care if you want to hold all your feelings in like some kind of freak. But, Shelly, get real! What you faced today rocked your world. Come on, talk about it. You have to get it out. You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t.”
“Thank you, Dr. Meredith,” Shelly muttered.
“Go ahead. Get mad at me. I can take it. There’s nobody here. Yell at me. Cry. Scream. Hit something.” Meredith gestured wildly. “Do anything! Just don’t lie there in denial.”
“In denial?”
“Well, whatever it is you do with all your feelings. It’s not natural to be so stoic.”
A sharp whistle sounded from the kitchen.
Shelly’s heart paused to listen for a moment. She thought it was Jonathan giving one of the whistles they had used as kids. For half a second, she thought he was calling her.
“I’ll make the tea,” Meredith said in response to the whistling tea kettle. “When I come back, you’d better tell me how you’re going to process all this.”
For the five minutes Meredith was gone, Shelly considered breaking down. It might feel good to cry. Or pound the wall and wail. The problem was, her remorse had been enveloped by her guilt. It was difficult to get through all the self-condemnation to properly mourn the loss of her first love.
When Meredith handed Shelly the mug of fragrant tea, her cold hands immediately welcomed the warmth. She was so cold, it stung when she wrapped her hands around the white ceramic cup. Holding it close and breathing in the inviting floral scent, Shelly said in a calm voice, “There’s not much to say, Meri. It’s all my fault. I set myself up.”
Meredith adjusted herself cross-legged on the end of the bed and waited for Shelly to go on.
“Why in the world did I think Jonathan had been living the life of a monk, waiting for me to come to my senses and return to him? I never gave him any indication that I wanted to get back together. I show up, on the other side of the world, without warning, and I expect him to do what? Drop everything, including his fiancée, and take me in his arms?” Shelly cautiously sipped her hot tea.
“Meredith,” she continued, “
look at what I put that poor guy through today. I materialize out of thin air, I force myself into his world, and I expect that he’s been building his own little fantasy dream world about me like I’ve been building about him these past few weeks. He didn’t give me any indication he was the slightest bit interested in me. We’re just old friends. That’s what he said to Ellen, or whatever her name is. ‘We grew up together.’ That’s all he said.”
Meredith tilted her head and looked at Shelly cautiously. After a pause she said, “You did notice, didn’t you, that Elena looks an awful lot like you did when you were eighteen.”
The comparison hadn’t hit Shelly before. There was the bright smile, the shoulder-length brown hair. Elena had brown eyes, too.
“She’s a lot shorter than I am, or than I was,” Shelly stated.
“You were that short once,” Meredith stated right back.
“Yeah, right. When I was eleven.”
Meredith raised her eyebrows and didn’t say anything.
“What? You think Jonathan has spent the last five years trying to find my clone?”
Meredith shrugged her shoulders. “It was just an observation. She’s outgoing like you, too.”
“So?”
“So, haven’t you spent the last five years comparing every guy you dated with Jonathan?”
“Of course not,” Shelly said. She immediately recognized it as a lie and quickly amended her statement. “Well, maybe a few of them.”
Meredith sipped her tea and kept her scrutinizing gaze on her sister. “He was awestruck when he saw you, wasn’t he?”
“He was surprised,” Shelly said. “Shocked, like he said. It really wasn’t fair of me to—”
“To what? Be shopping for flowers at the flea market the same time he was? It’s Providence, Shel. Why do you keep making it sound as if you’ve done something wrong?”
“Because I think I have.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
“What do you feel you’ve done wrong?” Meredith asked.
Shelly didn’t answer for a few moments. “I don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head. “I feel guilty.”