Kind of a Bad Time

Chapter 4

Erica went over to Anton’s place again the next day the same time she had been—around noon. Brad answered the door, but told her Anton was at work. Erica tried to stifle her curiosity, but asked about it anyway. She hadn’t really considered the possibility that Anton had a job.

“He works for his old man at some fancy-shmancy law firm. He’s floor manager, I think, or something like that. Not a lawyer, you know? He didn’t go to law school or anything like that, so his daddy stuck him in some sort of division where you don’t do anything with the law. At a law firm. He doesn’t really like to talk about it.” Brad led her over to a section of the huge apartment that Erica hadn’t been in yet. “His family has a lot of money. This apartment—this isn’t even half of it. Anton bought it himself with his fucking floor manager salary, but his daddy owns the whole company. I mean, can you even imagine how much that is? I’m sure he owns a whole top floor for his pent house on the tallest building in Munich somewhere. I don’t know. I’ve never been…so.” Brad said it sort of sourly.

They went into a movie room with a huge projector screen and a row of black leather seats. Brad collapsed onto the middle one which was already opened into a laying position. “They’re message chairs, too. Ah, baby, this life in this apartment is great. Come, take a seat. Bask in the awesomeness.”

“Why don’t you stay with Anton?” Erica asked.

“What? Oh, stay? Yeah, I don’t know. He was kind of uncomfortable when I asked him. Didn’t really give me a real answer. I mean, I guess having some guest in your house for four months wouldn’t be too fun. I’m just staying at the hotel down the street, so it’s no big deal. Anton’s funding it. Because I’m staying here on business and all, you know.”

On the big screen played American football. Some green team and some white team. Erica’s heart swelled. “Erica?”

She started. “What? What? Oh, um, yeah.” She had been distracted by the American football, but Brad had said something like Anton could pay for her hotel since she was now here on business, too.

“Oh, yeah, it’s American football. Have you ever seen a game? It’s Notre Dame, my favorite college team. But, um, we can change it. I know girls aren’t really into sports and all.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said quickly.

“Alright! Giving it a shot, I like that!”

“Where did you live in America?” she asked him suddenly.

“I was born and raised in New York, New York, baby.”

She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to go there. You must have a New York accent then.”

Brad chuckled. “Yep, I guess I do. See, in America, it’s kind of similar to your guys’ dialects and stuff. In the South, they have southern accents, we call them, and they’re kind of like the Bavarians here, you know, they throw all grammar out the window. I mean, no offense if your from Bavaria, I mean you talk like you’re from the north, but I mean, I know some people were born and raised here but speak really good German, so it’s not like you can’t be from Bavaria—“

“I’m from Brandenburg.”

Brad laughed. “Okay, okay, just making sure I wasn’t offending you. Alright, so you know what I’m talking about with the whole grammar out the window and stuff. When I first moved here it was the hardest thing, you have no idea. Anton speaks pretty good German, especially with me, but whenever we go out he lapses into his Bavarian and oh my god I have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Erica couldn’t help but grin. And she told herself it was okay. Because she was grinning because Germany made her happy. Her Dad had loved the Bavarian accent, and likewise she loved it too.