and histrionics. Many women had wept in front of me in their wish to keep me as a lover, but I’d never given a damn about them. But now I felt an unfamiliar tightness in my chest. Estelle deserved to be happy.
I finished my shower and put on clean clothes in just fifteen minutes and then made my way down the corridor to the living room. Hearing the voices of the girls who’d each managed to capture a piece of my heart—my small, chatty sister and the sweet, passionate Miss Klide—I slowed down to a stop and listened to their conversation. They were sat on the soft sofas on the verandah, enjoying the sunny day.
Unlike New York, March weather in south Switzerland was quite mild. The scent of flowers drifted over from my mother’s garden. The magnolias were in bloom, spring birds sang from tree branches, and boats sailed across the lake. The temperature was a toasty 65 degrees. The warm weather was having a relaxing effect on me and made me think about sex. Not just with anyone, but with sweet Miss Klide.
“How serious is your relationship with your boyfriend?” Estelle asked. She had a very soft and pleasant voice, which generated tingles my stomach.
“You mean, have we kissed and have we already had sex?” April’s reply made me freeze on the spot. Unconsciously, I clenched my fists so hard that if her so-called boyfriend were to appear in front of me right now, he’d get the beating of his life—well, if he’d actually taken her virginity.
“Look, at school they must’ve told you about protection—” Estelle started to explain, but couldn’t finish her sentence because my sister giggled and interrupted her.
“No, no. We haven’t even kissed yet. But I so want to know what it’s like. My heart will probably explode in excitement the moment he touches my lips.”
It was now Estelle’s turn to laugh. “That’s a highly unlikely scenario, but even so, it’d be better if you waited for a few years. You don’t need to rush into things.”
I leaned against the wall and continued to eavesdrop on them.
“When did you have your first kiss?” This kind of question was to be expected from April. She’d always been very inquisitive. Unlike other times, her curiosity didn’t annoy me – on the contrary, I liked the direction their conversation had taken. It was a chance to learn more about the mysterious woman who wouldn’t leave my thoughts.
“I was eighteen then. The first man I kissed later became my husband. But we split up two years ago.” Estelle’s voice was quiet, as if she were afraid that someone might overhear them. Was she ashamed of that? Why did I get the feeling that her marriage had been a horrible experience?
“Is Nick a better kisser than the others?” My little sister’s questions could go on forever.
A long silence fell, which irked me. Was it so hard for Estelle to answer this question?
“To be honest, I don’t have much of a basis for comparison. I haven’t been on a date with a man for two years. When my parents were still alive, I led a very confined life. They didn’t let me go out to clubs, let alone make out with boys.”
I didn’t like her answer one bit. Wasn’t she satisfied with my kisses? And I thought I’d done a great job.
“Come on, just tell me. I won’t tell anyone.” April’s bubbly, still-childish voice reverberated throughout the room.
“Your brother’s amazing. He’s nice, attentive, and makes me go weak at the knees with just one kiss.”
Her words made me feel much better, but not for long, because my sweet, talkative sister blurted out, “I’m not surprised at all. Nick has a lot of experience. He’s gone out with thousands of women. If you go online, you’ll find thousands of pictures of him with…”
This conversation had to end right now !
Striding quickly, I burst into the living room and interrupted April. “Where’s Dad?”
She stopped talking about my exploits—thank God—and replied, “He went to buy