Chapter 15: When in Rome?

September 26, 1994, Munich, Germany

“«Guten Morgen. Mein Name ist Steve Adams. Ich bin von NIKA Consulting. Ich habe einen Termin mit Herrn Schultz.»”

“«Guten Morgen, Herr Adams. “Er erwartet Sie. Bitte gehen Sie durch diese Tür. Das erste Zimmer auf der rechten Seite»”

She indicated a door and I walked through it, then walked into the main conference room. My German was just good enough to get past the receptionist, but I wasn’t going to be able to carry on a full conversation. I decided my best bet was to greet Jürgen Schultz in German, then switch to English.

“«Guten Morgen, Herr Schultz. Mein Name ist Steve Adams, von NIKA Consulting.»”

“«Guten Morgen, Herr Adams. Schön, Sie kennen zu lernen. Ich wusste nicht dass Sie Deutsch sprechen.»”

We shook hands.

“«Gleichfalls! Ich spreche nur ein wenig deutsch.» I’m sorry, that is going to have to be the limit of my German.”

“It’s OK,” he said. “Our official firm language is English. This is our computer expert, Werner. I believe everything is ready for you. Do you need coffee?”

“I’d appreciate a cup,” I replied. “And I apologize again for being a bit late. I had to change my flight arrangements.”

“No worries. I’ll leave you with Werner and have coffee brought to you.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

He left the room and I sat down at the conference table with Werner.

“Did you study German in school?” he asked.

“Yes, but only two years - one in High School and one at university. And that was some time ago.”

Coffee was brought in and Werner and I went over the plans. This office was only about half the size of the office in London, and that meant we could do a single training session in the afternoon, and go live in the morning. It was going to be a close thing because of the delay, but I felt we could make it, even if I needed to work late to complete everything.

Once we finished our meeting, Werner set about installing the software on the PCs while I worked on the server. It took until about 12:45pm, and we ate a hasty lunch, which I’d asked to be brought in, rather than have to spend the time to go out. I wasn’t going to get to see much of Munich, as the hotel was literally across the street from the law offices, and only about ten blocks from the SPSS offices. There wasn’t an InterContinental in Munich, so I was staying at the Hilton, just off «Englischer Garten«, a huge park in central Munich.

I ran through the basic set of tests and loaded the data for the training session, which started at 1:15pm, only fifteen minutes later than planned. I was able to get through the entire syllabus by cutting the three breaks from ten minutes each to five; fortunately nobody complained. Just after 5:00pm, I cleared the database and reset all the parameters for the morning. Just before 6:00pm, I left the offices and went across the street to check into the Hilton.

After unpacking my things in room 603, I went down to the hotel restaurant for dinner, and after I’d eaten, I went for a walk in the «Englischer Garten». It was a nice, cool evening, and I spent nearly two hours walking through the expansive park. I wasn’t sure Al was going to allow me to run, but long walks would make up for part of it. It was just after 9:00pm when I returned to my room, and placed my call to Al.

On the flight from Amsterdam to Munich, I’d decided not to say anything about the third incident to Al. It had been very mild, and had passed quickly. I knew he’d ream me for it when I eventually told him, but I’d deal with that when I got home. The last thing I needed was to have him insist on me seeing a physician, which would make a complete mess of my work. And knowing Al, I was sure he had at least one doctor friend in Munich who would show up at the hotel and, if necessary have the German versions of Guido and Luigi drag me to a hospital. Hans and Franz, maybe? I laughed remembering the Saturday Night Live skit. I hadn’t watched too many Saturday Night Live shows after the cast from the early 80s left, but with Steve Martin hosting, and Sting appearing, I had watched the episode where ‘Hans and Franz’ first appeared.

“Hi, Al,” I said when he answered his cell phone.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Pretty good. I just spent two hours walking through the English Gardens.”

“Your heart rate and breathing were normal?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve cut the carbs completely for now?”

“I had broccoli with dinner both nights, and I know it has a tiny amount of carbs.”

“I was much more concerned with bread, potatoes, pasta, or corn.”

“None of that. Can I run in the morning?”

“If you take it easy and don’t push yourself. And make sure you’re somewhere you’ll be seen or can get help if there’s an issue.”

“The English Gardens are literally across the street and according to the desk clerk, a lot of people run or walk there in the mornings.”

“I spoke to Doctor Ross and we’re going to work out some tests we can do to see if we can find some kind of link between all of your problems. He’s consulting with a colleague of his at Johns Hopkins. How does Adams’ Syndrome grab you?”

“It doesn’t. Call it ANYTHING you want, except for that. Call it Barton-Ross Syndrome. I know they name stuff like that after doctors. Heck, call it Mayo Syndrome!”

“That sounds like a failed sandwich!” Al laughed.

“So what kinds of tests are we talking about?”

“We’re not sure, but certainly the entire range of tests we’d normally do for diabetes AND hypoglycemia. So, among other things, a glucose tolerance test. What Doctor Ross is consulting on with Doctor Craig at Johns Hopkins is how to test a relationship between your blood sugar and reactions to adrenaline. We’ll also consult with Doctor Fremd in light of his research on controlling mild cases of bipolar disorder with diet and exercise. There’s another guy at UCLA, King, who is doing similar work. And a Doctor Rosedale who is reviving William Banting’s research.”

“Well, just let me know, Doc. I don’t have any more trips planned until November or December when I’ll do my quarterly visits to our other offices, and those are short and I can be flexible with the timing.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up, happy he hadn’t directly asked me about additional occurrences. I was supposed to volunteer those, but I truly didn’t believe it was serious. I also didn’t want Al asking too many questions about Karla until I had a chance to talk to Jessica and Kara about her. I pulled out my PowerBook and wrote in my journal for about thirty minutes, then set my alarm for 5:00am and turned in.

September 27, 1994, Munich, Germany

“It’s Tuesday morning there, right?” Kara asked when I called home immediately after getting out of bed.

“Yes. Who’s up?”

“Just Jess, Elyse, Michelle, and me. We didn’t know you were going to call, so the kids are all sleeping.”

“How is Michelle?”

“She’s fine. I think everything will be OK if you can just manage to see her as an equal.”

“I learned a few lessons about that so far on this trip,” I said.

“What was her name?” Kara asked, laughing.

“Pippa. In London.”

“We’ll save the details until you get home. Do you want to speak with Jess?”

“Yes, of course. I want to fill her in on what Al said. And tell her I love her, of course.”

“I think she spoke to Al last night.”

“He didn’t mention that when I spoke to him yesterday, well, earlier today for you.”

“Let me get her.”

“Hi, Tiger!” Jessica said about thirty seconds later. “You’re on speaker.”

“I hear you consulted with Al.”

“Yes. Did he tell you?”

“No; Kara did. I spoke with Al earlier today, your time. He told me about Johns Hopkins and Mayo.”

“How are you doing?”

“Fine. I took a nice walk in the English Gardens here in Munich last night. Al cleared me to run this morning, but to take it easy. I’ll just go at half-speed. I have plenty of time.”

“Is your flight still the same? You plan to arrive Thursday evening?”

“Yes; right around 7:00pm. Remember, I’ll need to clear Customs and Immigration, so it’s very unlikely I’ll be in the terminal before 8:00pm. Are you bringing the kids?”

“Are you kidding?” Kara laughed. “Do you think we could leave the house without any of your daughters?”

“The boys miss you too,” Jessica added. “They just don’t show it the same way the girls do. Are you going to get to do any sightseeing?”

“I was hoping to visit Dachau on Thursday, if I can finish at SPSS tomorrow. It’s one of those things I just have to see with my own eyes.”

“You don’t deny it happened, do you?” Jessica asked, sounding surprised.

“Hell no!” I said. “But there’s something about actually seeing it which I don’t think I can explain, which is why I didn’t say anything before. I need to go run so I can get my breakfast and get to the law office. I love you two! Tell the kids I love them. And tell Michelle, please.”

“She loves you, Tiger. You just need to adjust your attitude.”

Kara laughed softly, “It appears it was adjusted in London!”

Jessica laughed as well, “See you Thursday night!”

“I love you both!” I said.

“We love you, too,” they said together.

I disconnected the call, put on my running clothes and headed out of the hotel and into the English Gardens. The air was cool and refreshing, and as I ran at a leisurely pace, I passed a number of other people jogging in the park, and observed two people practicing what appeared to be T’ai-Chi on the grass.

Now that it was a full day later, and I’d had a chance to write in my journal, I considered what had happened with Karla, and our parting words. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with me, at least at some level. I wasn’t quite sure when that had happened, and given some of the contradictions in the things she’d said to me, I wasn’t sure I could figure it out. That said, I was reasonably sure it had happened fairly early on, even if she hadn’t realized what the feeling was.

All the clues were there, at least in hindsight. She hadn’t fallen in love because we had made love; she had made love because she had fallen in love. I was certain she hadn’t spilled that drink on me with an intention of sharing her virginity with me. But at some point, her feelings had overcome every obstacle - my marriage, my short time in the Netherlands, her religion, and even her fear of pregnancy.

I wondered just how concerned I should be for her. She seemed to accept the reality of the situation, and other than wishing I could stay and asking if and when I might return, she hadn’t behaved in a way that concerned me. Well, not with regard to her feelings. The lack of a conversation about birth control DID bother me, but that was at least partly, if not mostly, my fault.

Beyond that, the one real concern I had was how much peer pressure had played a part in her decision. I was sure Mina had known that Karla was a virgin, and I had no doubt she had pushed Karla to have sex with me. But once Karla had voiced that, we’d spent the next fifteen hours together, talking, and after everything that had happened, I was convinced that what had happened starting Sunday afternoon was what Karla wanted, for herself, just as she’d said.

I needed to examine my own motives as well. And not just with Karla, but with Pippa as well. And, for that matter, also with Magdalena. Both Pippa and Karla had made the first moves, and in both cases I’d tried to dissuade them from the course of action they desired. In the end, when I was reasonably sure they understood the circumstances, I’d taken them up on their offers. As Magdalena had said, I did have the ability to say ‘no’, but I hadn’t exercised it in either case. And that led me to wonder when I WOULD say ‘no’.

I thought back over the recent past, and there were actually only a few clear instances of saying ‘no’ - the crazy foursome that Claire and Becka had offered; Jill, when she’d wanted to roleplay; Effy; Papiya after the first time; Michelle Bateman; Freda when I’d discovered she had a steady boyfriend. I was sure there were others who I wasn’t calling to mind, but even of the ones I WAS calling to mind, only Effy, Michelle Bateman, and although the offer was indirect, Marie Annette, were ones I had never been with.

Was that really a problem? Certainly, in the past, Michelle had thought so, though I wasn’t sure what her take on it would be given all the changes that had occurred in her life over the past two years. At one point, she’d asked ‘Why?’ and I didn’t feel I’d ever really answered that question satisfactorily. Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I COULD answer satisfactorily. Kara had said, many times, that this was just who I was.

I laughed softly to myself as I jogged. What guy in his right mind would complain? I’d had sex with many, many beautiful women over the years, many of them virgins. And recently, most of the new girls had been virgins. I enjoyed showing them the secret, and relished the pure, innocent inexperience. It was an odd thought, but sex with Cindi would have been over-the-top, and a lot of fun, but I seriously doubted I would have enjoyed it more than my time with Karla, or Sakurako, or, most certainly, Liz.

As I thought more about it, Fate seemed to be favoring me ever since the fight in Oguni. Sakurako, Pippa, and Karla had all had STD tests, without which I’d never have been able to be with them. And given the timing, there would have been no way to arrange. That had happened a few times in the past, as well, namely Vera in Russia and Cèlia in Boston. It was only with regard to my syncope where Fate seemed to still have it in for me. Even with Rob, as terrible as that was, Fate had intervened to keep Charlie off the flight, a miracle in the face of tragedy.

Other things at work weren’t smooth, and perhaps my old friend Fate had refocused her efforts on my business. But I had something to fight with there, as well. I didn’t know what Mikela would do; I’d find out more when I talked to Elyse at the end of my day in Munich. But I was sure that with the information gathered by Katya Sergeyevna, I’d be able to rid myself of Brandon Littleton once and for all. Then I could focus on dealing with ‘Little Tony’ at my leisure.

I made my way back to the hotel where I showered, dressed, and ate breakfast. I had a bit of time, so I worked on my reorganization proposal, and just before 9:00am, left the hotel to walk to the Munich offices of Moore, Martin & Walker. I spent the day as I had in London and Amsterdam, helping legal secretaries and paralegals begin to use the system.

By the end of the day, things were going smoothly, and I met with Jürgen Schultz. He expressed gratitude and we confirmed our support arrangements. His team would call London with any issues they were unable to resolve, and London would call New York, who, if they couldn’t resolve it, would call us. We had also arranged for emergency support in case there were serious problems with the server that needed immediate attention, and I made sure he had the ‘on-call’ cell phone number that was rotated between Kajri, Brenda, and Sam.

We shook hands, and I headed back to the hotel. I stepped into the elevator with a beautiful, raven-haired woman with piercing green eyes who was about my age. She smiled and I smiled back. I noticed ‘6’ was already pressed and waited for the elevator doors to close.

“American?” she asked, with an accent I couldn’t quite place.

“Yes,” I replied. “How did you know?”

“Your suit. It’s stylish, tailored, and made from very nice material, but it’s an American cut which doesn’t match this year’s nor last year’s European styles.”

Her accent was clearly Italian.

I laughed, “Unless I miss my guess, you work in the fashion industry.”

“Yes; I’m a designer. I’m here in Munich to work with a German firm.”

“What do you design?”

“Mostly women’s clothing - frocks, skirts, blouses. What do you do?”

“I own a computer software and consulting company. I’m here visiting some clients.”

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“Chicago. You?”

“Rome. Have you ever visited?”

I shook my head, “No. I’d love to someday.”

The bell on the elevator rang and we both stepped off and walked down the hall. I suppressed a laugh when I saw she was in room 604, directly across the hall from my room.

“Do you have dinner plans?” I asked as we both inserted our keys into the doors.

“No.”

“Would you like to have dinner?”

“We haven’t been properly introduced!” she said, turning to face me and flashing a smile.

“Steve Adams, from Chicago.”

“Elena Altieri,” she replied. “From Roma.”

I extended my hand and she laughed, stepping forward to give me a chaste hug and touch cheeks with an ‘air kiss’.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“I think the Italian greeting is much nicer than the American one!”

“I can’t argue,” I said with a grin. “How long do you need to get ready?”