Looking Through Windows (23 page)

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Authors: Caren J. Werlinger

BOOK: Looking Through Windows
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Katharine smiled, and noticed that Ann wasn't listening. She and Owen exchanged a questioning look. He nodded.

 

"Ann," Katharine began as Ann started at the sound of her name, "honey, we don't mean to pry, but we've both noticed that you've seemed… I don't know, upset and rather quiet. Are you all right?"

 

Ann looked at both of them, their faces concerned.
'They love me enough to ask,'
she thought. She turned to the window, trying for several seconds to find a way to start.

 

"What is it, Annie?" Owen asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

 

"I just don't know how to say this," Ann said softly. "I've been trying for weeks to figure out how to tell you…" She forced herself to meet their eyes. "I'm in love with Emily."

 

Before they could say anything, she rambled on, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, "I know this is probably difficult for you, and you may be disappointed in me. I'm sorry if this hurts you, but I've never felt this way about anyone. I had honestly thought I would never meet anyone I could love this much. It surprised me more than anyone. Michael told me I shouldn't tell you, that it could hurt the business and that it would hurt both of you, but I can't lie to you…" She finally paused. When she turned to look at them, Katharine's eyes were moist, and Owen was smiling tenderly.

 

"Ann," Katharine said, "you have such a good heart. How could we be disappointed in you?"

 

"We've watched your relationship with Emily," Owen said. "She seems like a good person who truly loves you, Ann. That's all we could ask for you."

 

She blinked, trying to comprehend what they were saying. "You knew?" she asked unbelievingly.

 

"How could we miss it?" Katharine teased. "You absolutely glowed when Emily was with you."

 

Ann blushed, and Owen and Katharine laughed. "We love you unconditionally, Ann. Never doubt that," Owen reassured her.

 

In a rush of relief, Ann exclaimed, "I love you both so much!" and hugged each of them in turn.

 

"So," Katharine said as they sat to eat, "tell us more. Has Emily told her family?"

 

Ann frowned. "I'm not sure. She intended to, but we haven't spoken since I came home."

 

"Tell us more about her."

 

Ann started at the beginning, recounting Emily's history with Caroline, and the tragedy of that relationship's end. She told them about how guarded Emily had been, and how the visit from Joseph Gundlach had triggered a very bad period for her, forcing her to face all the grief she had kept buried.

 

"As she began to let go of all of that control, she softened," Ann said unselfconsciously. "She opened up and touched my heart with a depth of tenderness and honesty I've never known before. I can't help but love her."

 

Katharine and Owen smiled, looking at Ann's radiant expression. A thought occurred to Owen and his smile faded as he took on a more serious tone.

 

"Ann," he began, "we are happy for you, but you do realize not everyone is going to feel that way."

 

She nodded. "I know."

 

"How are you going to handle that?"

 

"I won't know for sure until it happens," she replied honestly. "So far, Michael's is the only negative reaction I've experienced."

 

"How did Michael know?" Katharine asked. "Did you tell him?"

 

Ann shook her head. "He caught us in an embrace and asked me about it when we were alone." She changed the subject. "So you'll understand if I go back tomorrow?"

 

They laughed and Katharine said, "Of course we'll understand. You'll have a lot to talk about."

 

 

 

Chapter 42

 

E
mily looked out the small window of the plane as New York's chaos passed underneath like a miniature toy city. She took a deep breath. The speed at which events had transpired the past few days made her dizzy.

 

Madame Suzanne Choubert had not waited for the New Year holiday to pass. She had contacted Emily directly over the phone on New Year's Day. Apparently Emily made a good impression during the impromptu interview, because Madame Choubert confirmed her appointment then and there. Since Emily's passport was still valid, Madame Choubert used her diplomatic connections to get a visa by the next morning. She arranged for a driver to pick Emily up that afternoon and by eight o'clock the following morning, she was taking off from La Guardia.

 

She sat back and closed her eyes. She had been so tempted to call Ann, to hear her voice one last time before leaving. But she had refrained, telling herself it would probably make things awkward for Ann with her family.
'It's better this way,'
she told herself,
'quick and painless.'
She thought for a moment.
'Yeah, right.'

 

 

 

Chapter 43

 

A
nn had to force herself to take care of Meg first. She unloaded her at the boarding stable, and bedded her down. Unhitching the trailer, she quickly drove back to town. Seeing Emily's car parked at the Gundlachs', she pulled up behind it and ran to the front door. When Mr. Gundlach answered, she breathlessly asked for Emily.

 

Perplexed, he didn't reply for a moment. He invited her in and said gently, "I'm afraid you've missed her, Miss Ann. She left yesterday."

 

It was Ann's turn to be perplexed. "I don't understand. Left where?"

 

He explained about the driver coming to pick her up, assuming that Ann knew of the job in Switzerland. "She said she would write to let us know how long she'll be there."

 

Dazed, Ann thanked him and left. She drove to her apartment in shock, not quite comprehending what was happening.

 

When she entered the apartment, she looked around, just in case Emily was there, just in case this was some strange joke or dream. Seeing no sign of her, she sank into the couch, still wearing her jacket. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but she became aware of the gathering darkness in the apartment. She went out to get her suitcase, and brought it into the bedroom. When she turned the light on, her eyes lit on the folded paper propped on the pillow. She stood there for several minutes, just looking at it.

 

When she picked it up, the key slid out and landed with a soft plop on the comforter. She held it, and looked at it as if she couldn't quite grasp what it was doing there. At length, she opened the note and read it. She had to start over several times, trying to make sense out of the first paragraph. 'Since I haven't heard from you, I have to assume that you have made your decision, and I must respect that.'

 

In her dazed state of mind, she tried to comprehend the words, tried to remember. What decision? She couldn't recall any plans for her to call. Was this some sort of test, a pop quiz to see if she knew how to play this game? She finally read through the entire note and left it on the bed. She didn't know what to do. She looked blankly around the apartment. She felt like she needed to move. She went for a walk, not to any particular destination, just walking, hoping the cold air would blow away the fog and allow her to make sense of all this. She walked for over an hour, until her chin and cheeks were numb.

 

She still could not understand why Emily had left. It was beginning to sink in that she was gone, but she couldn't figure out what had happened. She stopped suddenly. Could something have happened with Emily's family? With a renewed sense of hope, she hurried back to her apartment. She had Emily's parents' phone number there. Maybe they could give her some answers.

 

When she got back, she reread the note and realized that there was no indication of any conflict with Emily's family. The entire note sounded as if Emily thought Ann wanted to break things off. As she sat there reading it over and over again, angry tears began to flow. She crumpled the note and hurled it. The small wad of paper landed softly at the base of the Christmas tree. She fought the urge to throw something heavier, more satisfying in its impact. Not knowing what else to do, she went to bed. She didn't expect to sleep, but almost immediately she fell into an exhausted slumber, her mind's way of shutting down for awhile.

 

When she woke the next morning, it took a few minutes for the recollection to sink in. When it did, she pushed the thought from her mind. She forced herself to get up, shower, eat breakfast. Normal things. As she sat with her second cup of coffee, she considered her options. Classes wouldn't resume for a week and a half. There was certainly time to go home. The thought of facing her parents with this news grated on her. She felt like a fool, having gushed to them about loving Emily, only to return to a 'Dear Ann' letter.

 

"What an idiot you are," she chastised herself. She laughed mirthlessly at the thought that she, always the breaker of others' hearts, was on the receiving end. She knew she would have to tell her parents at some point, but she wasn't ready to do that yet. She decided to stay. She could fill her time with long rides on Meg, working out and reading.

 

There was no sense sitting around and crying over a situation she had no control over. With a stern internal discipline she focused her energy and her thoughts, refusing to let Emily in.

 

 

 

Chapter 44

 

E
mily entered the terminal at Kloten airport outside Zurich and was immediately greeted by Suzanne Choubert, an imposing woman in her early fifties. She extended a firm handshake to Emily. "How was your flight?" she asked in excellent English, already propelling Emily towards a waiting limousine.

 

 "Uh, it was fine," Emily said, "my bags…" pointing to the baggage claim area.

 

"Give your claim ticket to Gustov," Madame Choubert instructed, indicating the extra occupant of the limo's front seat. "He will collect your bags and take them to your flat."

 

Emily realized that Madame Choubert wasn't being rude; she was simply accustomed to making decisions and having them carried out. Her clothing, hair and makeup were subtle, conservative, but everything about her exuded an aura of authority.

 

"We will tour L'Ecole first," she said. "It is located on the West Bank of the LimmatRiver, where most of the banking and business takes place," she explained. "Although our main function is the language training of people in the diplomatic branches of various governments, we have many clients who are involved in international business."

 

They passed beautiful old buildings, some with very ornate architecture. Emily was surprised at how clean everything was.

 

"Your flat is one of several in a separate building," Madame Choubert continued. "It is small compared to apartments in the U.S.," she said looking over at Emily, appraising her, "but it is clean and comfortable."

 

Emily smiled. She knew how accustomed Americans were to living spaces that would be considered enormous by most Europeans. "I'm sure it will be satisfactory," she said.

 

The school was housed in an immense eighteenth century building, which had been updated to serve this unique purpose. In addition to larger classrooms, there were several private offices, each equipped with a computer, fax machine and secure telephone line. The set-up was quite impressive.

 

"For the most part, your role will involve teaching the subtleties of American English, trying to enhance the fluency of your students," Madame Choubert explained as they toured the building. "But you may be called upon to assist with preparing and translating some sensitive material."

 

She opened the door to one of the private offices and gestured to Emily to enter. After closing the door, she invited Emily to sit.

 

"Your absolute trustworthiness and confidentiality will be required," she continued. "My background check of you indicated only one potential problem."

 

At the surprised look on Emily's face, she said, "Of course I did a background check. Dr. Brooks' recommendation was glowing, but hardly sufficient to entrust you with politically sensitive material."

 

"I understand," Emily acknowledged. "So what's the problem?"

 

"Your homosexuality," Madame Choubert stated bluntly.

 

So unprepared was Emily for this that her first response was to laugh aloud. "Why is that a problem?"

 

"Do not misunderstand. I am not concerned about the fact of it; I am not American, remember. I am only concerned if it is a secret which could be used to manipulate or blackmail you."

 

"Madame," Emily's tone became serious. "I appreciate your forthrightness and honesty. Let me assure you, my being a lesbian is not a secret. My family and friends know. It is not an issue which can be used against me."

 

"Good." Madame Choubert ended the subject as decisively as she had begun. They continued their tour after which she walked Emily to a building two blocks away. From the marble-tiled entry, they took an old cage-type elevator up to the third floor where Madame Choubert opened the door to Emily's flat. As promised, it was small, with a sitting room, a tiny kitchen and a bedroom with a small bath. Emily's bags were sitting neatly next to the bed.

 

"I'm sure you would like to rest now," Madame Choubert said, handing Emily the key. "I will see you tomorrow morning at ten."

 

"Merci, Madame," Emily said. Left alone, she looked out at the unfamiliar roofline of Zurich. She closed her eyes and conjured an image of Ann's face. "I miss you so much," she whispered.

 

 

 

Chapter 45

 

A
nn threw herself into her classes with great fervor. She was grateful for the structure provided by reading assignments and studying. She had Lise for French again this semester and quickly found she was going to demand even more from her students this semester as they delved into French literature. Most of her other classes were second semester continuations of her fall classes and were also more demanding as the instructors built upon material from the previous coursework. In her chemistry class, she had a new lab partner, a tomboyish redhead named Maggie O'Brien, who didn't seem to have much of an aptitude for chemistry. By their second week of classes, Ann figured she had saved the class at least twice from explosions or spills caused by Maggie.

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