Mothers and Daughters Pt. 11

There are no flights from Hamburg to Toronto, so Briana would fly Lufthansa to Frankfurt, and then connect to a Toronto flight. Another AeB agent in Frankfurt would ensure Briana transferred to the correct transatlantic flight. They were taking no chances after Pavlina's embarrassing disappearance.

"So tonight is the last night with all of us together," Martha declared after Nate relayed the news.

"A celebration is in order," Nate nodded. They had never made it to the Brazilian restaurant on the ground floor of his apartment building, so Nate declared tonight was the night. Martha wore her black backless dress again, and Briana wore her yellow sundress. Nate wore black pants, a white shirt, and a blue/grey sport coat.

Nate led them down the interior stairs, making sure to never step outside the building. By early evening, the restaurant was primarily a steak house. Nate ordered a striploin steak, which is called a filet in Germany, with a peppercorn sauce. Martha had a bacon wrapped filet mignon, and Briana had a beef stroganoff.

Nate led them back up to his apartment after dinner. He decided to get some work done if he was going to take Friday afternoon off, so he retreated to his office and left the girls alone together on their last night together in Germany.

He was still on a roll at 11 when Martha poked her head in the door. She had changed into her grey dress. "We're going to bed," she smiled. "Thanks for a great dinner."

Nate nodded. "I'll be an hour. I'll try not to wake you when I come to bed," he said. He watched her turn around and walk away.

Nate woke early and went to the gym on Friday morning. When he returned, he showered, dressed, and then woke the girls, shaking them gently.

"I'm going to work," Nate explained. "I will be back by 2 in the afternoon. We will leave around 2:30." The girls nodded. He left them in bed, and took the subway to work.

Nate worked right through until 12:30, and realized he was hungry, and he still hadn't been to the bank. Before he left, he spoke with his client, and arranged to take another week off work. His client was both relieved and concerned, but agreed as long as Nate could continue working part time from home, as he did last time.

He went to the bank, withdrew 5,000 Euro in 100 denomination bills, and then stopped for a sandwich on the way home. He arrived at his apartment late, at 2:15. Briana and Martha were watching another episode of Walking Dead.

Nate went to his office and retrieved Briana's AeB certificate. He also opened his safe, and pulled out $500 in Canadian currency. He went to the living room, and asked the girls to stop the movie.

Nate first set the pile of fifty 100 Euro notes, and asked her to count it out loud. She counted 5,000 Euros. Then he returned her AeB document. She tucked everything into the duffel bag Nate bought for her long ago. Finally, Nate gave her the $500 Canadian, saying it was spending money to help her land on her feet when she got home.

Nate pulled Briana into a big hug. "Good luck," he said.

"You're an asshole," she smiled, "but if I ever meet you in a dark alley again, I pray to God you're still on my side."

"I'll always be on your side," he smiled, "even if you think it doesn't feel that way." Martha nodded with the seasoned intuition of a parent.

Nate did a final checklist, and then sent an email to Thomas Brandt -- they were on their way. The three of them set out toward the Baumwall subway station, and climbed the stairs to the elevated platform. They took the subway eight stops to the Uhlandstrasse station, and walked to Thomas Brandt's office. They arrived early at the second floor waiting room. Thomas was engaged with another client. They waited in the small reception room that served about twelve lawyers.

Ten minutes later Thomas came out to meet them. "You know Fraulein Evans," Nate re-introduced Briana, "and this is her mother."

"Ah, yes," Brandt shook Martha's hand. "We spoke on the phone."

Thomas waived them into his tiny office, and once again Nate stood behind the industrial padded steel chairs while the two girls sat across from Brandt. Thomas asked Briana to count the money out in front of him, and she counted out exactly 5,000 euros, and then put it back. He had her sign six documents in 23 different places, Nate counted.

He filed away his documents, and handed one final document to Briana. "This one," he pointed, "is proof that the European Court has recorded the disposition of your London of Economics School debt." Briana filed it in her duffle bag.

"And now," Thomas stood up, "I take Fraulein Evans to the AeB."

"We don't go with you?" Martha asked.

"I am afraid that is not permitted," Brandt explained. "Only officers of the court are permitted to accompany AeB subjects through the release process." He paused. "You can walk us across the street, and we will say goodbye at the entrance to my garage."

"What!?" Briana looked from Martha, to Nate, to Brandt. "Mom's not coming with me?"

"No," Martha reached across and touched Briana lightly on her jeans covered thigh. "I will follow in a week or so."

"A week?! What will you do for a week?"

"It's part of the plan," Martha evaded the answer. "You go, and I will see you soon." Briana felt like everyone was in on a joke except her, except this wasn't funny.

Brandt sensed it was a good time, so he took his briefcase, stood up, and ushered the three of them out of his tiny office. They followed Brandt down the stairs to street level. They crossed the street to the glass and steel door that led into Brandt's underground parking garage. Martha and Briana hugged for a long time.

"You take care," Martha whispered. "I'll see you soon."

"You too, Mom," Briana cried. "I'm sorry I've been such a disappointment my whole life."

"You were never a disappointment, you're just ..." Martha searched for the word, "uniquely focused. We'll talk when I get home."

Brandt led Briana through the glass door. Martha watched the door close, and stayed there until they disappeared around a distant hallway corner.

"What now?" Martha sighed at Nate, not trying to hide her dread at the coming week.

"Whatever you want," Nate offered. "Dinner, quiet night at home ..."

"How about you take me out get me hammered," she said, "and how about you give me the night off."

"I know a good Irish pub within staggering distance from the apartment," Nate smiled.

"Okay," Martha wagged her finger at Nate, "but I don't want some drunk, horny Irish German guy groping me."

"They'll have to get through me first," he assured her.

"Works for me," Martha shrugged. "Lead the way." They took the subway back the way they came, but went stayed on at the Baumwall station and continued to the St. Pauli station, the eastern gateway to the famous Reeperbahn. From there they walked back toward Nate's apartment, and then deaked into a small cluster of side streets.

Nate didn't know the name of the place. It had an unassuming front entrance. Anyone could easily walk past without noticing a restaurant. It had a well-established local clientele, which is the best kind of place to go. While not a regular, Nate had been there enough times to know his way around.

It was still early in the evening, and he easily found a table at the back corner. He told Martha to sit with her back to the window, and he sat with his back to an adjacent wall, giving him a full field of view of the room, ready to intercept any drunk, horny, groping Irish Germans.

They ordered pints of beer on tap, and looked at the menu. Six hours later, Martha was leaning into Nate's chest, her words barely perceptible. She needed to go to the bathroom. Nate called the waitress over. He said his friend needed to use the toilet, but probably needed some help. He slipped the waitress 25 euros, and told her there was another 25 for Martha's safe return. Nate paid the food and bar bill while Martha was in the toilet.

After the waitress returned Martha to the table and claimed the back half of her tip, Nate walked Martha out of the restaurant, and helped her home as Martha staggered and stumbled most of the way.

In the apartment, Nate helped Martha up the stairs. He sat her on the edge of the bed and pulled her dress over her head. Then Nate laid her on her back, removed her shoes, and pulled down her underpants. He pulled the duvet over her naked body. Nate retrieved a bucket from the hallway closet, and set it on the floor beside Martha, preparing for the worst.

Nate went back downstairs to his office, and opened his personal laptop. He browsed for an hour until he found what he was looking for, and made some online reservations.

When Nate awoke in the morning, it was past 9. He had uncharacteristically slept in, which was not a problem on a Saturday morning. Martha was purring gently beside him. Nate slipped quietly out of bed, noticing the bucket on the floor was untouched.

He checked his email. Brandt relayed that the AeB reported Briana had boarded her 6:30 flight to Frankfurt.

He made coffee and buttered some croissants with jam. Nate brought breakfast upstairs, and gently woke Martha up to the smell of fresh coffee.

"What time is it?" she asked. Nate told her 9:30, and explained Briana was in Frankfurt. Just as he spoke the words, his cell phone chimed again. He checked his email from Brandt again. "She just boarded the ten o'clock flight to Toronto," Nate read out.

"So it's over," Martha flopped her head back onto the pillow, rubbing her eyes.

"For Briana it is," Nate nodded casually.

Martha opened her eyes and looked at Nate. "Right," she remembered her obligation to him didn't end until he receives his bond money back.

"Coffee?" Nate offered her a cup of espresso.

"I need that," she reached for the cup and saucer. "I don't remember coming home last night."

"I walked you home," he explained, "and put you to bed."

She looked under the duvet, realizing she was naked. "Thanks, I guess," she offered dubiously.

Nate ignored the slight. "Have some breakfast. I'll take you to the gym later. It's good for a hangover."

"Could we do a run instead?" she asked.

"It's already hot out," he warned.

"I'm okay in the heat," she let her head fall back to the pillow.

An hour later Nate led the way up the gentle slope of the park, and then stopped and waited while Martha stretched for five minutes. He normally avoids hot days, but her pace was slow enough to allow him to adjust comfortably. They circumnavigated half of the botanical gardens again and returned home in an hour. Martha thanked him for the run -- she really needed that after all that time cooped up inside his apartment.

Back in the apartment, she stripped off her running gear and grabbed the enema kit. Nate touched her gently on the hand. "No more enemas," he said softly, "unless you like them". "And the bathroom is your sanctuary. Close and lock the door if you want."

Martha didn't ask why. She stepped into the bathroom, locked the door, and sat on the toilet in peace. When she was done, Martha started the shower. After she dried off and left the bathroom, Nate hugged her, pulling her naked breasts into his chest, then he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, and Martha kissed him back while he tenderly ran his fingers up and down her spine. Then Nate entered the bathroom, and ran the shower for himself.

When Nate came out of the shower, Martha was downstairs. He dressed and packed a suitcase, and carried it downstairs. He went to his office, and packed his two laptops in his case, and retrieved Martha's purse, money, and passport from the save, and stowed them in a fat manila envelope in his suitcase.

Martha was sitting on the sofa watching broadcast TV. She was wearing her spandex white top and the white denim jacket over her dark red skirt. Nate walked behind the sofa, leaned over her, and slipped his hand underneath the jacket, but still over the spandex fabric, and gently caressed her right breast in his hand. Leaning over her from behind, he kissed her mouth upside down, and she returned the kiss.

"Go upstairs and pack," Nate said after he broke his kiss and pulled his hand from her breast.

"Where are we going?" she asked, not hiding her surprise.

"You said you wanted to go to Rugen Island."

"You're taking me there?" she asked. He nodded. Martha had looked up Rugen Island on Nate's laptop when she was allowed to use it. It sounded beautiful. "When are we leaving?" Martha asked.

Nate leaned over again, this time capturing both her breasts in his hands and kissed her again. "When you finish packing," he smiled.

"For how long?"

"For as long as you want." Martha smiled.

"What should I pack?" she sked.

"Everything," he answered, and kissed her gently. She smiled and went upstairs.