trembled as she signed her new name, “Anna Foster-Frei.” Nico signed with a flourish. Then the civil servant, an overweight, bored-looking man, read the vows in a monotone voice. One of the buttons on his jacket was missing and his gut was sticking out. Anna forgave him his shabby appearance, thinking that he had to read the same lines hundreds of times a day and probably made a lousy salary.
After the somewhat undignified ceremony, Nico and Anna kissed to the applause of George and Susan. Susan and her husband George were in their late twenties. George was a lawyer and Susan worked in a bookstore, which is where Anna had met her one day. They had been friends ever since.
They left the City Clerk’s Office in Manhattan and headed to a restaurant for lunch. Anna glanced up and down the street at the rows of cars, which snaked their way slowly through the thicket of traffic. She was so used to the stench of exhaust that she barely noticed it. Tall buildings lined the streets. In the narrower roads, the sun never made it to the ground. New York City was an assault on the senses, the mind, and the emotions, but Anna loved it. She was still young and adventurous.
At a traffic light, they crossed one of the wide avenues. “Well, this wasn’t the most romantic wedding ceremony,” George said.
“You can say that,” Nico agreed with a grin. He put his arm around Anna and hugged her. “But we’ll have the real celebration in church once my father and Anna’s mother get here.”
George and Susan invited them to a fancy restaurant nearby. An elderly hostess greeted them with cool and efficient New York politeness and led them to a reserved alcove. The dark wood paneling and the dim light gave the place an elegant but gloomy and almost ghostlike feeling. The booth, however, was nicely decorated and a bottle of champagne was waiting in the ice bucket. The waiter popped the cork and poured them a glass.
“Congratulations,” he said, smiling businesslike at Anna.
“To a long and happy life and lots of children,” Susan said and raised her glass.
“Let’s wait with the children for a while,” Nico said. He kissed Anna and she felt she was floating on a cloud of happiness.
Chapter 18
Jonas applied a few stripes of orange to a painting, which consisted of patches and squares of different shades of brown and white. The picture gave the feeling of a quilt and it was one of a series of abstract paintings for an upcoming exhibition. He stepped back and scrunched up his eyes, then dipped the brush into paint thinner and rubbed his hands.
The doorbell rang. The clock on the wall showed two o’clock in the afternoon. He wasn’t expecting anybody. He pushed the buzzer, opened the door, and peered over the railing. He saw the top of the head of a woman with brown shoulder-length hair who came up the stairs. Anna? But it wasn’t the day of Karla’s painting lessons and the woman was alone. When she turned her head and looked up, he recognized her.
“Anna? What a surprise; I didn’t expect you.”
“I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Anna said as she climbed the last step.
She was out of breath, her normally pale cheeks showed a healthy glow. “I was in town to run errands and wanted to drop this off.” She was holding up a shopping bag.
“Well, come on in.” Jonas stepped back. “Want some coffee?”
“No, unfortunately I don’t have time,” Anna said as she walked into the living room. “I have an appointment in about twenty minutes. I just wanted to give you this. It came in yesterday and I know you like his work.” Anna pulled a large book out of the bag and handed it to him.
“Wow, this is absolutely gorgeous,” Jonas said. He paged through the book. It was the illuminated edition of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience . “This is great, but I want to pay you for this. This is expensive.”
Anna shook her head. “No, this is a present . . . for all the