Free November Sky by Marleen Reichenberg

shortly afterward. Unfortunately, his fame didn’t permit us to simply stroll through the city uninterrupted or go to a beer garden like other couples. So he asked me if I wanted to see his parents’ house, and I readily accepted. I was pleased that he trusted me.
    “I’ll tell you right now. My parents are in their house in Spain. But Hanna is there. She took care of me while I was in bed sick. And I promise not to exploit the situation.”
    I felt perfectly secure in his presence and knew for certain that he wouldn’t shanghai me, not even in the seclusion of his home.

Chapter 6
    As we drove through Grünwald, a posh quarter with villas and quiet streets and the aura of a garden city, Nick showed me his elementary school. I instinctively imagined a cute, dark-blond six-year-old with gaps in his teeth and a schoolbag under his arm standing expectantly in front of the school entrance.
    As expected, the house he grew up in actually was one of those white stuccoed villas with a red, quaint-looking shingle roof, several bay windows, and large front windows, all in a well-tended garden surrounded by a high, manicured hedge. We’d just entered the bright, spacious foyer when a petite, middle-aged lady with stylishly short ash-blonde hair came through one of the many doors.
    She smiled at Nick and bubbled away in Austrian-accented German. “Well, how do you feel? The way you’re beaming, you’re better again, thank God. Let me tell you this once and for all: Don’t eat any slimy stuff from the sea ever again. Stay with things that grow here. And best of all, with whatever I cook.”
    Before Nick could open his mouth, she held out her hand as she sized me up. There was a spark of elation in her clear gray-blue eyes.
    “You must be Laura. Nick’s talked about nothing but you all week. He told me he met you when his car broke down on the highway. Good that you were nearby and could drive him when the motor in his stupid car died on him. It’s too bad he had that ridiculous car repaired. I swear he must have a head injury! No normal person drives a pimpmobile like that!”
    Nick gave a quick bow in her direction and grinned at her facetiously. “Hanna, thank you for your opinion that I’m insane, and for destroying in a few words the good impression I’ve been struggling to make on Laura. God knows if I’ll be able to persuade her to get into my car again.”
    He turned to me. “Laura, you heard it. This is Hanna, the heart and soul of the House of Vanderstätt. She thinks for inscrutable reasons that I’m still seven and treats me like it, I’m afraid.”
    Hanna had a quick and ready tongue. “Since when are you seven? Your behavior is so childish, I’d assume four.”
    Nick led me toward the stairway. “Come on, let’s go upstairs quickly before she spouts any more nonsense.”
    Personally, I found Hanna quite refreshing.

    We spent the evening in Nick’s bright and spacious three-room residence, which occupied the entire second floor. His well-lit living room and study were decorated in blue and white and filled with plants, which conveyed the feeling of a summerlike patio. I peeked into his bedroom and saw that it was dominated by a huge armoire with mirrors and an oversized futon bed. The bed and its many pillows looked most comfortable, and I wondered in spite of myself who besides Nick had slept in it.

    He was watching me.
    “Just for your information, the bed is new. You can stop worrying about who I’ve lecherously rolled around with in it.”
    Dammit, was I that transparent? Sheepishly, I followed him into the small, functional kitchen that sparkled with cleanliness. Before I could praise him for his qualities as a homemaker, he confessed that he rarely used this room; he always ate down in the kitchen with Hanna.
    “At the risk of demolishing your good impression of me, I’d rather say this right off: I’m a hopeless flop in household matters. That’s Hanna’s world. I can’t cook or do the