What Happens in Berlin Page 3
“And what about the baby?”
She dropped her eyes. “He told you?”
I nodded. “I think it’s a stupid reason to get married.”
Petra looked up, confused. “But we love each other. That is reason enough, no?”
“No!” I took a cautious sip of my coffee. “I mean, sure. But you barely know each other. It sounds like you wouldn’t be getting married at all if it weren’t for the kid.”
“Are you not happy to be an aunt?”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. I hadn’t really thought about that, but of course I’d become an aunt if my brother had a kid. Confused, I looked away. “It’s a big shock,” I muttered.
She laughed gently. “It was a shock for us, too. But please, Joelle, I hope you will be so happy. I do love your brother very dearly.”
I wanted to argue with her, but I sighed. “Whatever.”
She hesitated, and then she placed her hand over mine. “I hope you will not say anything to your parents about the baby.”
I shrugged. “Not my secret, is it?”
“I knew you would be just as wonderful as Charlie said!”
She smiled at me, and I felt sick. Pushing away from the counter, I stood up, almost knocking my stool over. “I’m going to go exploring. I’ll see you later.”
“Maybe you would like company?” She hopped off her stool and smiled expectantly.
I shook my head. “Not really.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Well, enjoy Berlin. I will see you later, no?”
“Don’t count on it,” I muttered as I left the café.
Once I was outside, I felt a little guilty for the way I’d given Petra the cold shoulder, but I was too angry to care. First Charlie dropped off the face of the earth, only popping back up to dump the news of his wedding on us, and then he told me he’s going to be a dad? The icing on the cake was his little girlfriend tried to play the sister act with me. I glanced back at the café and hurried down the street. I so wasn’t ready to deal with Petra just yet.
I wandered aimlessly, exploring the streets around the hotel. Most of the buildings were sleek and ultramodern, but after I’d gone a few blocks, a handful of old, tired-looking stone buildings started to spring up in between all the chrome and glass. The street widened suddenly, and I spilled out into a busy intersection. Cars rushed by, but that wasn’t what took my breath away.
Looming up in the distance across the intersection was the Brandenburg Gate. I’d seen a picture of it online once, but nothing had prepared me for how huge the structure was. Stepping back, I pulled my phone out of my bag and turned the camera on to line up a shot. Even as far away from the gate as I was, it was nearly impossible to fit the whole thing into the frame. I could barely make out the shape of Victory in her chariot on top of the thing, and I stared, snapping pictures, awestruck. I had a thing for big, historical monuments ever since I went to DC on a school trip in eighth grade; there was just something comforting about knowing that the buildings had survived so many years, despite the way the world had changed around them.
Hurrying down the sidewalk, I headed toward the gate. I’d had no idea our hotel was so close to it. Finally, I stood in the shadow of the gate. I stared up at the reconstructed facade, and I couldn’t repress the shiver that passed over me. So much history and sadness seemed to be wrapped up in this one monumental symbol. The temple-like columns looked like something from ancient Rome, but it had been built in the 1700s. Even though it was meant to be a symbol of peace, I remembered reading somewhere that the gate had been blocked off when President Kennedy traveled to Germany, to keep him for catching a glimpse of East Berlin; the wall dividing the whole country had run right up against the monument. I slowly turned in a circle, taking in the view of both sides of the city.
Other tourists clustered around, snapping pictures and chattering in a number of languages, and for a minute, I felt lonely. I’d gotten used to traveling with Sarah, and I bet she and Camie would have been as awestruck as I was. Hell, even Pops would have loved to share my first glimpse of the gate. Glancing through the columns to the famous linden trees beyond, I longed to go forward, but as much as I wanted to keep exploring, I had sort of soured on the idea of being alone. With one last look up at the magnificent chariot on the top of the gate, I turned around and began the long walk back to the hotel. If Mom hadn’t already killed Charlie, he’d be able to go sightseeing with me later, and then I would try to convince Pops to let me go on to Italy when this was all over. I wasn’t giving up on that just yet.
Chapter Five
“She wants us to meet them for dinner.” Mom was staring listlessly at her suitcase, picking through the clothes she’d brought. “What in the world am I supposed to wear for this?”
I shrugged. “I met her this morning.”
Mom whirled around and looked at me. “What?”
Oops. “Earlier, when I went exploring. She was at the café, and she, um, recognized me.”
“Joelle, why didn’t you say something?”
Mom had been napping when I got back from my walk, and I’d curled up with a book for a few hours, losing myself in the pages of a World War II romance. I thought it was an appropriate choice, given our location, but it had also been my failed attempt at trying to forget about Charlie and Petra, not to mention my almost fight with Mom. “I don’t know. She’s . . .” I hesitated. “She’s cute, I guess.”
Mom glared at me. “I can’t believe you’ve already met her.”
“But you’ll get to meet her tonight at dinner. Where are we going?”
“Some place called Namaste. It’s nearby, Charlie said.”
Namaste? A couple of tourists on the train I’d chatted with had actually mentioned it. It was supposed to be an amazing vegetarian place or something. Very hip. I rolled my eyes, even though I was sort of excited. “Sounds like she’s trying to show off.”
Mom shrugged. “What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t know.” I yawned, feeling groggy. Running around Europe for two weeks was starting to catch up with me.
“Well, you better figure it out. We have to meet them in an hour.”
I sighed. “I’m going to take a shower, I guess.”
“I’ll order some coffee while you’re in there.”
I hugged her, our earlier tension forgotten. “Just what I need!”
~
After my shower, I felt a little less groggy, but I still wasn’t looking forward to dinner. It was awkward enough, running into Petra without anyone else there, but now I wondered if seeing her with Mom and Pops would be even worse. I’d have to keep my mouth shut about the baby, and given Mom’s up and down mood, I probably shouldn’t mention anything about my travels, either. Since those were the two biggest things on my mind, I was pretty much out of conversation, and the evening hadn’t even started yet.
Cranky, I pulled on a pair of jeans and my black cashmere sweater. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but I knew that Mom would want me to make an effort. I almost didn’t put any earrings in, but at the last minute, I slipped in a pair of chunky dangling fused-glass pieces. Charlie had bought them for me last Christmas.
When I emerged from my bedroom, Pops was sitting on the sofa in the common room of the suite. He had swapped his usual button-down and tie for a jacket and a turtleneck, and he looked surprisingly good.
“You look nice, JoJo.”
I smiled. “You, too, Pops.”
“Your mother told me you’ve already met this girl. What did you think of her?”
I hedged. “She’s cute. Otherwise, I don’t know.”
Pops smiled. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve never known you not to have an opinion.”
I shrugged. “It’s Charlie’s choice, not mine, right?”
Pops sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”
Mom came out of their room, tying a loose blue scarf around her shoulders. She eyed my jeans with distaste, but thankfully she didn’t tell me to
change. “Let’s get this over with.”
Pops looped his arm through hers. “I’m sure she’s a perfectly lovely girl.”
Mom snorted. “Either way, we’re stuck with her, aren’t we?”
I trailed them down to the hotel lobby and waited while the doorman called a cab. Pops insisted I ride up in the front so I could see more, and I hopped up next to the driver, nervous that he would want to talk to me. But the man seemed content to chew on his mustache silently and drive like a demon through the streets, so I ignored him and stared out the window.
The city lights flashed by, and I watched as we zipped past the buildings I’d seen on my walk. The cabbie slowed down as we neared the Brandenburg Gate, and I heard Pops catch his breath in the backseat.
“Wow.”
I nodded in silent agreement. While the gate had been impressive in the daytime, at night it looked like something out of a fairy tale. The columns were lit up from the front with golden light, and the winged silhouette on top of the arch looked like some kind of guardian angel watching over the city.
We circled the gate, and then the cab cut down a side street that looked too narrow for a car. When he pulled up in front of a red awning, he smiled at me. “Enjoy.”
I smiled back at him while Pops paid. “Thanks.”
Charlie was waiting for us outside the restaurant, but I didn’t see Petra anywhere.
He led the way past the hostess’s stand into the dimly lit restaurant. The walls were draped with orange silk, and twinkle lights were strung along the ceiling. It was charming, and I almost started to look forward to the evening.
Petra was sitting at a large round table at the back, chatting animatedly with an older man. Mom paused behind me, but I kept trailing Charlie, studying his broad shoulders. Even though he wasn’t in uniform, it was obvious that my brother was a soldier; he’d never walked so tall and proud before, and for a moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Being a soldier had changed him.
Petra and the silver-haired gentleman stood up at our approach. Charlie slipped his arm around her waist and grinned at us.
“Mom, Pops, this is Petra. And her father, Mr. Hertzle.”
The two dads shook hands, and Petra hugged my mother. I saw her shoulders stiffen, but she patted the girl on her back and forced a smile. “We’re so eager to get to know you.” She looked around curiously. “Will your mother be joining us, too?”
Petra’s smile fell, and she glanced at Charlie.
“Mom, Petra’s mom died a few years ago.” He dropped his voice, and I could barely make out his next words. “Breast cancer.”
Mom clapped her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”
Petra shrugged, but her face was tight. “It is not something that could have been helped. I am sorry we forgot to tell you, Mrs. Viegas.”
I was surprised when Mom leaned forward and gave her a real hug. When Petra finally stepped away, she was smiling again.
Petra looked around my mother and grinned at me. “It’s good to see you again, Joey.”
I nodded, trying to be polite. “You, too. Did you pick the restaurant?”
She smiled. “Yes. It is one of my favorites.”
Grudgingly, I said, “It looks really cool.”
Petra beamed. Just then, a short guy in thick dark glasses appeared at her elbow, and I stared at him in surprise.
“Joey, this is my cousin, Johan. He’s like a brother to me, so I hope you will love him as much as I do.”
The boy locked eyes with me, and I flushed. It was the guy who’d laughed at me at the train station earlier. “I think I have seen you before,” he said, and then he smiled.
Stiff, I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
He snapped his fingers. “But of course! You are the dreamer from the train.”
Petra looked at us, curious. “You have met before?”
I shook my head again just as he said, “Jah!”
There was an uncomfortable pause, but then Pops cleared his throat. “Should we sit down? We’ve got lots to talk about, so we may as well get comfortable.”
Johan pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down without looking at him. He seated himself on my right, and Petra patted my shoulder and sat down on my other side. I wished Charlie had sat there, but he was beside Petra, his arm draped casually across her chair. I looked away to find Johan watching me.
“I am very lucky to have the chance to meet you, I think, Joey.”
“It’s Joelle.” For some reason, hearing this stranger use one of my nicknames was almost as annoying as when Petra said it. Almost, but not quite.
“Joelle. It is a pleasure to meet you. I wanted to speak with you at the train station, but you vanished like smoke before I could work up the nerve.”
I glared at him. “I heard you and your friends laughing at me.”
He looked surprised. “Do you speak German?”
I shook my head. “No, but I saw you. Stop pretending to be nice just to impress your cousin.” I reached for the bread basket that had appeared on the table, but Johan stopped me by putting his hand over mine. Startled, I looked up.
“Joelle, listen. They were laughing at me.” Behind his glasses, his serious hazel eyes studied me intently. For a moment, he was almost cute.
Finally, I broke away from his gaze. “Not what it looked like,” I muttered, shaking off his hand and grabbing a piece of naan.
He coughed like he wanted to say more, but before he could, I leaned around Petra and poked my brother. “Can we go sightseeing tomorrow?”
Charlie smiled. “Sure. I’ve got some stuff to do in the morning, but what about the afternoon?”
Petra tapped his arm. “We have the cake tasting in the afternoon, Charlie.” She turned her innocent eyes on me. “I am sorry to steal your brother, Joey. But there are plenty of days for you to see Berlin!”
I glared at her, and Mom piped up. “I’d like to help you both pick out the cake. Would it be okay if I come along?”
Charlie and Petra shared a private look, but then Petra smiled. “Jah, of course, Mrs. Viegas.”
Mom paused for a minute, but then she smiled warmly at Petra. “And maybe you could call me ‘Mom’?”
I slumped down in my seat as Petra clapped her hands in delight. What had gotten into Mom?
The dinner was amazing, and everyone but me seemed to be having a wonderful time. I kept darting glances at Petra and her cousin, wondering why nobody else seemed to see how fake they both were, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to cause a scene.
Finally, after Mr. Hertzle and Pops got into a chivalrous argument about who would settle the bill, I pushed my chair back from the table. “I’m going to the ladies’ room,” I announced.
No one but Petra seemed to notice. She slipped out of her chair and came with me. I tried to walk fast, but I didn’t know where I was going, and when I paused, she slipped her arm through mine.
“Come on, this way.”
I let her tow me along, but when we got to the small bathroom, I retreated into a stall as fast as I could.
“Joey, I wanted to ask you something.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can’t it wait?”
“I should have asked you this morning, but I was too excited to remember.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
She paused, waiting until I reemerged. I was washing my hands when she said, “Will you be my maid of honor?”
My eyes met hers in the mirror. “What?”
She smiled, but now she almost looked nervous. “I said today that I hope you will be like a sister to me. Will you begin at our wedding?”
I dried my hands, confused. “Don’t you have a best friend or something?”
“My two girlfriends will also stand up with us, but Charlie and I would most like the honor to go to you.” She looked at me, her face open and expectant, and suddenly I felt like an ass. I’d done nothing but look down on her since I found out Charlie was engaged, and here she was, telling
me she wanted us to be sisters and inviting me to be in her wedding.
“What would I wear?” I floundered, and she grabbed my hand, excited.
“Does that mean you will?”
After a moment, I nodded. “Sure. I mean, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”
She hugged me, nearly squeezing the air out of my lungs. For such a tiny person, she had a pretty good grip. “I am so glad! We can pick out your dress tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I echoed, hesitating. I wasn’t sure I was ready for a day of bonding time with Petra. “I might sleep in or something.”
Her face fell, but then she smiled. “Of course! I have been so silly; I forget what it is like to have jet lag.”
I didn’t bother correcting her, but I promised myself that I would try to be nicer to her. She really didn’t seem that bad—maybe we could be friends.
We left the bathroom and headed back to our table, but it was empty. I looked around, worried, but then I spotted Charlie’s tall frame through the door. Petra and I went outside, and she slipped over to him like a magnet.
I watched them for a moment, snuggling as Mr. Hertzle and my parents chatted animatedly about something.
“They make a good-looking couple, nein?” Johan spoke quietly.
I hesitated, but then I nodded. “Yeah. They look good together.”
“I need to explain something.”
I glanced at him. “Not really.”
“But at the station . . . you misunderstood.”
I bristled. “It seemed pretty clear.”
“My friends were laughing, Joelle, because I told them I thought you were beautiful.”
Stunned, I stared at him. Was there something that ran in his family about saying the thing people least expected?
He took my silence as denial, and tentatively, he reached for my hand. “They laughed at me because I was watching you, and I said you were a beautiful dreamer. You looked like you’d wandered into a magic story.”