Three and a Half Minutes Page 2

  Stephanie reached around and gathered her hair over one shoulder, something she did when nervous. “It’s in your genetics and your history and goes back to when you were a kid and eating Happy Meals and Ho Hos. However, tonight we start to turn back the clock. With the medication I prescribed, and healthy choices in diet and exercise, you should be fine.”

  “Then why do you look so pensive?”

  Stephanie gave her a look. “How can you always read me so well?”

  Camille shrugged, waiting for her sister-in-law to spit out what was weighing on her mind.

  “Men’s heart attacks are usually brought on by eating, or physical activity, whereas women’s are typically preceded by emotional stress.”

  “Stress? How does that relate to me?”

  Stephanie had the audacity to laugh, her brows rising in disbelief. “Bret’s devil-may-care ways were always a big part of who he was. You had a hard time dealing with that. Now that he’s dead, you’re mad at him for being careless with his life. For leaving you a widow, and Kristin without a father. I don’t blame you. I’m mad at him too.”

  Camille’s face grew warm as those hard years after Bret’s death resurfaced in her mind. Several risky business ventures had cleaned out their savings, all without her knowledge. And her with a young child to support—perhaps there were grounds for her anger. That wasn’t all of it, though. She did grieve for Bret. But a man should take his role as the head and provider of a family seriously, not spinning his wheels looking for the next thrill, or quick gold mine. If he hadn’t cared enough about her to settle down, he should have at least thought about his daughter. But she’d never tell Stephanie how destitute he’d left them. His little sister thought the world of him, even more now that he was dead. Camille never wanted to hurt her like that.

  “It’s true, Camille. We both know it.”

  Camille stood, then went to the fireplace where a framed picture of her and Bret was displayed. It was taken on their honeymoon, when they’d signed up for a white-water trip in the Rocky Mountains. Devil’s Bend was just around the corner and his blond hair ruffled in the wind. He had that particular smile, the one that only appeared when he was doing something perilous, creasing his face. She’d given him her whole heart. Tried to make it work, cried more tears than she ever wanted to remember, when she had finally realized she and Kristin took a backseat to his danger-seeking ways.

  “Camille,” Stephanie said gently from behind her. “Hostility decreases blood flow and increases hormones that promote clots. It is possible resentment could have instigated the attack.”

  Resentment and hostility? Really? Camille almost laughed. Oh, it was a lot more than that. She gave herself a mental shake, knowing better than to let him so affect her life from the grave after eight years, even to the point of ruining her health. It galled her.

  “Mom, dinner is ready,” Kristin said from the doorway. Lines crinkled her forehead as she looked hesitantly between them, her childlike radar picking up on the tension coiling in the room.

  “We’ll be right in, sweetheart.”

  Stephanie waited until Kristin closed the door. “Camille, your daily work schedule has got to change. You’re at that shop constantly. Since Bret’s been gone, you haven’t been out on a single date. Put nicely—you don’t have a life.”

  “Steph, shhh. I don’t want to upset Mom and Kristin any more than they already are.”

  Stephanie smiled apologetically. “If you don’t change your ways,” she continued in a hushed voice, “you’re twice as likely to have a repeat episode. And this could be the one that really kills you. Is that what you want for Kristin? For her to grow up without any parents at all?”

  The implication that Stephanie thought she, like Bret, would put her ambition before her daughter’s needs, was outrageous. She’d worked night and day to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Now that the shop was actually turning a fabulous profit, she felt compelled to keep it going. As she’d found out, things could change quickly. She never wanted to feel that vulnerable again. The urge to strike back at Stephanie was strong.

  “And having a self-righteous, know-it-all sister-in-law? Does that heighten my chances?”

  Stephanie’s expression tightened with disappointment. “Not fair. I’m your doctor. If you want it sugarcoated, I can do that. I’m only trying to keep you alive.”

  “Dinner is getting cold,” Ellen called. “And Kristin is starving. I won’t be able to hold her off much longer.”

  Years of pain, disappointment, and loneliness jumbled up inside Camille. Bitterness too—in spades. Stephanie was right in her diagnosis and she was being a stubborn fool not to admit it. Taking out her pain on her best friend wasn’t what she wanted to do.

  “That’s not how I really feel.” She held out her arms and Stephanie stepped into her embrace. “You’re the sister of my heart more than a sister-in-law. I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Camille caught their image in the mirror. Stephanie’s straight blonde hair contrasted with her own wavy chestnut. Four years younger, her sister-in-law was taller by three inches but that didn’t stop them from embracing, heart to heart. They smiled and stepped away.

  “Will you forgive me for being a nincompoop?”

  Stephanie’s smile widened. “Nothing to forgive. I love nincompoops. But I am relieved to hear you say it because, like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

  “That may not be as long as you think.” Camille rolled her eyes and clutched her chest playfully as she started toward the kitchen.

  “Not funny at all.”

  Almost to the kitchen, Camille turned back abruptly. “By the way, just who am I supposed to be dating? I haven’t seen a host of men beating down the door to this house.”

  “Wade Moss has been trying to catch your eye for the last two years. Unfortunately, he’s just too shy to do anything about it. Maybe now that he’s seen you bare-chested, he’ll be inspired to give you a call.”

  “Steph!”

  “What?” she replied innocently. “One can only dare to dream.”

  After dinner, Stephanie set her napkin beside her plate and gave a satisfied sigh. “That was delicious, Ellen. Thank you.”

  Kristin finished the last bite of fruit salad on her plate, then asked, “Grandma, if you could go anywhere in the whole world, where would it be?”

  “I don’t know. Before I could answer that, I’d have to give it much thought and consideration.”

  “Okay, then tell me, what was the best trip you ever took?” Kristin had a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

  “Now that’s an easy one. My honeymoon. Your grandfather and I were young and so in love that it didn’t matter that we only rented a shabby little cabin in Tahoe. It was heaven.”

  “That’s so romantic,” Kristin crooned. “How about you, Aunt Stephanie? Do you have someplace special you’d like to go?”

  Stephanie smiled. “Tahiti. I’ve seen pictures where they have huts right over the water. I can see the sunset now and taste the Chi Chi in my hand. Maybe I can talk your mom into joining me when I go the second week in May.”

  Camille wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then set it beside her plate. “That’s right before Mother’s Day, one of the busiest days in the year. You can send me a postcard.”

  Undeterred, Stephanie continued. “That’s understandable. But if you could have a dream vacation, Camille, what would it be?”

  Camille sighed. “If I was going to take the time, there’s only one place in the whole world that I’ve ever dreamt of going. You know how I’ve worked teaching myself German with CDs and tapes? Well, I’d go to Vienna and study at that school I’ve been taking an online course from the past two years. I even know one of the instructors a little. He’s really very nice, and with his help, I’ve improved dramatically.”

  At the thought of Günther Christove, a smile crept onto Camille’s face. His attention to her studies was, well…indescribab
le. She loved his comments pertaining to her work, so full of amusement and yet thoughtful. He’d come to feel like a friend, though they’d never met.

  “I wouldn’t stay in a hotel, but with a host family, to get the whole European feel,” she went on. “Students attend from all over the world. That’s where I’ll go someday—when I have the time.”

  “That does sound special,” Stephanie agreed, covering her slight smile behind her hand.

  They all nodded. Kristin was the first to break into an ear-to-ear grin.

  A niggle of unease settled in the pit of Camille’s stomach. “How come I feel like you know something that I don’t?”

  Kristin jumped up and ran out of the room. She returned with a manila envelope and handed it to her mom.

  As Camille stared at the packet in her hands, a strange sensation came over her, much like the one she’d felt in the hospital when she’d been first waking up. It was beautiful, making her almost giddy with joy. She’d forgotten all about it until now and desperately wanted to remember, to feel, but the harder she tried, the more remote it became. She just couldn’t grasp what it meant. She looked up, disoriented.

  “Mom, open it,” Kristin cried excitedly.

  With shaky hands, Camille opened the large envelope and pulled out a glossy pamphlet from the Vienna School of Language. Concentrating on the beautiful color pictures became impossible because she knew she was about to break Kristin’s heart.

  “This is very sweet of you,” she began slowly.

  “Before you say anything further, look at the rest of the contents,” Stephanie instructed sternly.

  She didn’t want to look. It could only get worse.

  Stephanie took the packet from her hands. “Okay, if you won’t look, I’ll just have to show you.” She reached inside. “What’s this?”

  “An online ticket with”—she searched the itinerary—“Austrian Airlines.”

  “Very good. This?”

  “My passport.”

  Panic took over. “Stephanie, you know I can’t leave the shop.” She looked around, trying to find some support. “Kristin needs me,” she said, her voice ascending an octave. “Mom, help me out here.” Camille looked to her mother pleadingly.

  Ellen reached over and patted Camille’s hand. “It’ll be good for you to get away. Stephanie came up with this wonderful idea, and now it’s all settled.”

  “What about my heart attack? It won’t be safe for me to travel abroad at this time.”

  “Nice try,” Stephanie said. “It just so happens one of my colleagues has a very good friend who lives in Vienna and has a practice there. I’ve sent him your file and he’s agreed to take you on as a patient throughout your stay. He’s excellent with a worldwide reputation. Even better, he also has an extra room in his flat in the city. He’s expecting you.”

  Camille stood in one swift motion. “This is where I draw the line. I’ll go, if I’m forced to. The tickets have been purchased and I’m sure they’re non-refundable. That said, I won’t stay with your friend. I don’t know him and I refuse to put him out.”

  Stephanie’s face glowed in victory. “That’s fine with us, Camille. You can stay wherever you like. Kristin, go get the cake. It’s time to celebrate.”

  Resigned, Camille slowly took her seat, turbulence swirling within. She looked from one happy face to the other and wondered how in the world she’d been manipulated into this. To be honest, wasn’t this what she’d been dreaming about doing for years? Well, wasn’t it?

  “How long will I be staying?” she asked.

  “Two months.”

  Chapter Three

  Three Weeks Later, Vienna, Austria

  Günther Christove clapped his hands together several times and blew into them with a force that would stop a train. He’d forgotten his gloves this morning and his fingers were as frozen as the Wurst he’d pulled from his freezer last night.

  “Günther,” the boy at his side called, “I can run to the corner and get you hot coffee. Holding the cup will warm your hands.”

  Günther ruffled the scruffy black hair of his little companion and smiled. “And how would you pay for this coffee, Johann? Your good looks?”

  They laughed and Johann bowed eloquently. These shenanigans left the boy ten paces behind as Günther’s stride took him quickly across the narrow cobblestone street and through a wrought iron gate. Günther’s hair swayed with each step, brushing the collar of his supple leather jacket. Johann ran to catch up.

  “Almost there.” Günther’s breath came out in a frosty cloud. They rounded the corner of Schweinfußstraße in full stride. “We must hurry. We don’t want you to be late to class. Did you have any breakfast this morning, Johann?”

  “Yes, sir. Brot und Käse.” Johann’s tattered hand-me-down coat all but enveloped him.

  “Ah, bread and cheese. What is that American saying? Breakfast of champions?” At least that uncle of yours saved something back from the pub to feed you.

  Johann stopped abruptly. “Günther?”

  Günther turned back, the anxiety in Johann’s voice stopping him in his tracks. “Yes?”

  The boy’s expressive green eyes held his. “A woman from the agency came to our apartment early this morning looking for Uncle Bernhard. When he wasn’t there, she got upset.”

  The troubled look on Johann’s face tore at Günther. “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “No.”

  Günther patted his back. “No worries on this new morn, my young friend. I will look into it. All will be well.”

  They turned onto a small street and had to hop quickly to one side as a shopkeeper hosed down the sidewalk. “That was close,” Johann laughed, his eyes bright with excitement.

  “Your English is excellent, Johann. I can tell you’ve been studying very hard. I’m as proud of you as if you were my very own son. You’re what we call ‘gifted’. Especially in language.” At his words, an overwhelming sadness threatened to drop Günther to his knees. A vision of Nikolaus, barely three years old, flashed into his mind. His son was laughing and pulling on his hand. Similarly, Johann’s face beamed with pleasure at his compliment, coaxing a smile back into Günther’s heart.

  It was a few moments before Günther was able to speak. “English is very important for your future,” he went on. “It will open many doors, and give you opportunities that you wouldn’t have otherwise. I can see in your eyes that you will leave your mark on this world.” As Günther spoke, his enthusiasm spilled over to Johann, making the boy skip along even more eagerly, if it were possible. Günther liked the impact his words were having.

  A motorbike sped by at top speed and he quickly grasped Johann by the shoulder, holding him back. “Now, we are late and must hurry.” Günther proceeded across the intersection.

  Johann soaked in his praise like a sponge. Günther chuckled and continued, “How I wish all my students learned as quickly as you do.” The clock tower chimed once, signaling quarter till the hour. Günther hitched his head. “Come on, let’s run.”

  Somewhere above Western Europe

  “Would you like anything else?” The flight attendant held out a tray of scrumptious-looking pastry creations. The accent and her dark velvety hair, coifed into a beautiful French twist, bespoke her Western European heritage. “We’ll be landing soon. This will be your last opportunity.”

  “No, thank you.” Camille whispered, trying not to disturb the man sleeping beside her in the aisle seat. The young lady smiled graciously and continued down the aisle.

  Camille’s stomach turned over for the hundredth time and she pushed aside the twinge of fear that threatened whenever she felt anything strange happening inside her. The thought of a repeat heart attack loomed constantly in the back of her mind. Stephanie had reassured her that those feelings were natural and would become less frequent with each passing day.

  Searching through her bag, she found her bottle of antacids and placed one on her tongue. She checked her reflection in her
compact only to find her face pale and drawn. Discreetly, she applied a dab of moisturizer to her face and a light coat of lipstick. Not much could be done for her hair, so she brushed it quickly and let it fall naturally around her shoulders.

  The grueling ten-and-a-half-hour flight to London had her nerves frayed and body aching. After stretching her legs at Heathrow, she’d boarded the flight to Vienna for the final two and a half hours in the air.

  Camille yawned to open her ear passages as the plane began its descent. Deep and articulate, the pilot’s voice thanked them over the intercom for choosing Austrian Airlines and wished them a pleasant and romantic stay in Vienna. The local time was five fifty p.m. and the temperature cool at three degrees Celsius.

  She glanced out the window. Even at this altitude, the rolling hills, just greening up for spring, were prettier than she could ever have imagined. Excitement pushed away anxiety. Austria. In her estimation the most beautiful country in the world. She had dreamed of this day for years, and now she was actually here.

  She was alone.

  She was single.

  She was allowed to do any little thing she pleased.

  “Have you been to Vienna before?”

  At the sound of the voice, Camille turned to find the man next to her awake. His thick brown hair had a sprinkling of silver around the temples and his face was interesting. Eyes that had been closed for most of the flight, she now saw, were the same shade as the coffee she’d had with her dessert. Funny how some people waited until the very last minute to strike up a conversation.

  “No, this is my first time. You?”

  “I come often.” He tried to stretch his legs in the cramped area, but ended up crossing them at the ankles. “It’s an intriguing city. Are you staying long?”

  “Two months.”

  His eyebrows rose. “That’s a long time. You must be visiting relatives.”

  “Actually, I’m attending the Vienna School of Language. It’s been a dream of mine for some time. And now,” she lifted her hands palms up, “here I am.”