March, 2017

Spring had started out cold in Berlin. They'd forgotten the window cracked open overnight and the room had cooled down to the point where Ingrid relished the heat of the human in her bed, even though it was a weekday. The sheets were all tangled up around them and she drew closer to Dale to keep warm. In his sleep, Dale draped an arm over her torso and snuck a foot between her ankles.

They lay entwined like that until Ingrid's alarm went off on the nightstand. It was that agonizing moment in the morning, when she had just been conscious for a split second and immediately fallen back into a shallow slumber, engulfed in a dream so vivid she mistook it for reality. Then her alarm swung in like a hammer and smashed her dream to pieces she couldn't find. Being ripped so forcibly from that fragile state caused her physical pain.

"Ingrid?" Dale murmured in a raspy voice, awoken by her iron grip and childish whimpers.

Clearing his throat, he tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but Ingrid's hold on him restrained his movements. The high-pitched ringtone of her alarm continued to blare.

"Hey," he said softly, as she continued to whimper. He stretched over her to reach for her phone and turn off the alarm. "Hey," he whispered again, kissing the top of her head. "Come on, now. You've got this."

But she only responded by intensifying her whimpers.

Dale chuckled and with the patience of a saint, managed to disentangle the sheets and crawl out of bed with Ingrid clinging to him like a koala. He lowered her on the edge of the bathtub and stooped to talk to her as if to a little girl.

"Now you get under that shower and when you come out to the kitchen all dressed, prim and proper, I'll have your breakfast and your coffee ready for you. All right? Do we have a deal?"

Ingrid gave a meek nod, her bottom lip swollen in a pout.

"Good girl," Dale smiled and kissed her forehead.

In the kitchen, after setting up the coffee machine, Dale grabbed an avocado, fetched the bread from the cupboard and put on some music to go with his breakfast-making moves. He was almost done when Ingrid emerged from the bedroom in a silky shirt, tucked into the front of her crisp black trousers.

"Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully, giving her a once-over. "You look ready to slay."

"I feel like I'm going to."

Ingrid went straight for the glass pot of the coffee machine and began her usual process: mug, coffee, sugar, milk...When she reached for the sliding shelf where she kept the whiskey, she stole a glance at Dale and retreated her hand.

"Are we seriously having avocado toast for breakfast?" she exclaimed instead.

"Yup."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Dude, I packed leftover pizza for lunch, what do you take me for?"

Dale laughed. She went to sit down and he placed a plate before her. Ingrid lifted her slice of toast and took a tentative bite, eyebrows knitted together. As she chewed up the mouthful, her wrinkled forehead slowly smoothened and she nodded her approval.

"Not bad," she said. "So when's your flight?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I need to finish packing my shit today."

"You want me to come see you off?"

Dale hesitated. "Do you think you can?"

Ingrid shrugged. "I can make time, if that's what you mean."

He blushed behind his toast. "That'd be quite lovely, thank you."

"I think I'll miss you a bit," she found herself saying.

His eyes jumped up. "Better than nothing, I suppose."

An uncommon tenderness softened her core. Maybe it was just the aftershock of that rough start she'd had or maybe, now that she had clearly defined the boundaries of her capacity for affection, her detachment had diminished. It had been easy to disdain his foolish devotion when she believed he couldn't understand her—when his expectations were soaring high and she did not even want to try to meet them.

But now that he understood, now that he ministered to her and demanded nothing, she found it hard to repudiate his love or feel contempt for his naïve innocence. There was also not much left to feel contempt for. She'd claimed his innocence, fed on it until few remnants of it still glistened in his eyes, like strips of flesh sticking to bare bones in the wake of a predator.

Remembering the same look in Oskar's eyes, she averted her gaze to disperse the memory.

"But," she raised her coffee to her lips, "I'm sure you won't have time to miss me."

"I wouldn't count on it."

"There's just one thing I wanna ask of you," she continued as if she hadn't heard him, "please send me a bottle of authentic vodka!"

Dale laughed.

"Straight from the teat of Mother Russia! If you think you can't afford it, I'll give you the money, just get me the vodka."

He shook his head, still quivering with laughter. "No worries, once I settle in, I'll get you the best vodka."

Ingrid had her last bite of toast and stood up. "I'd better go now. See you later, Dale."

"Sure thing. Oh, I'll come bring you the keys."

"Oh, no, don't bother." She dusted off breadcrumbs and grabbed her handbag. "I'll just pop over and get them."

Dale walked her to the front door. "You know, you're making this awfully hard."

"This what?"

"This whole break...away...thing."

He'd meant to say break-up, Ingrid could see it in his face.

"Breaking away is always hard at first. Then you learn not to grow roots anymore."

"But how can you live without roots? Where do you draw your sustenance from?"

Ingrid pursed her lips into a playful, devilish smirk. "The answer is simple. You become a parasite."

*

Once Ingrid had washed her mug in the office kitchen, she approached her team leader before she had time to give out the first orders of the day.

"Hey, Astrid, do you have a minute?"

"Yes, of course, what happened?"

"Do you think I can leave a couple hours early tomorrow? I have somewhere to be and I think I've added up enough overtime already to get two or three hours off."

Astrid smiled, partly understanding, partly sneering. "I'll let you know."

"Could I take the day off if that doesn't work out?"

Astrid thought about it. "I'll have a look and tell you for sure by the end of the day, okay?"

Ingrid nodded. "Cool. Thanks."

The matter was shoved to the back of her mind until it was time to clock out. As promised, Astrid called out to her and privately advised her to just take the whole day off rather than just a few hours. Ingrid didn't mind either way and dialled Dale's number as soon as she stepped out of the office building.

"Hey, nerd, cheeseburger pizza and tequila beer one last time?"

"You're quite cheery, aren't you?" he replied.

"I took the day off."

"What, today?"

She could hear the confused frown in his voice. "No, silly. Tomorrow."

"Oh! That's great."

"Yeah, so you'd better get ordering that pizza!"

"All right!" he laughed. "I'll have it waiting for you."

"You'd better! Talk later."

Ingrid flipped her phone case shut and adjusted the bag on her shoulder. Within a minute, her phone buzzed with a text message: my place's a bit crowded rn, meet you back at yours? She tapped a quick confirmation and descended the stairs to the subway station.

Her mind and her heart felt both so light that Ingrid thought she might be floating on a cloud, or be made of cloud and grounded only by the weight of her meaty carcass. Soon, she recognised it to be an unusual kind of relief, as if her whole being was in the midst of a renewing process. Dale's departure represented the end of an era and her body was getting ready for a fresh phase.

Ingrid sensed only passing guilt at the excitement that had built up inside of her.

Dale was dancing by himself when she arrived. A big, warm box of pizza waited for her on the kitchen table. She left the pack of tequila beer next to it and went into her bedroom to change. Dale had set up the living room for dinner by the time she walked in, pulling up her hair in a loose ponytail.

"How was work today?" Dale turned off the music and turned the TV on instead.

Ingrid shrugged. "Just the usual. How about you, what were you up to all day?"

He threw his head back, groaning. "Packing boxes and posting them."

"You're flying out to London first, right?" She popped open the beers and threw the pizza box open.

"Yup. I have to finish up the paperwork and then I...am going to St. Petersburg."

"Cheers to that, mate."

"Cheers." Dale took a gulp from his drink then remembered something. "Speaking of which."

He left his bottle on the coffee table and went to fetch a book from his backpack. He stared at it for long seconds before handing it out to Ingrid.

"What is this?" She read its cover, confused. Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy.

"One of the greatest novels ever written," Dale answered, "and your belated Christmas present."

Her eyebrows jumped up in lieu of an inquiry.

"I meant to give it you last Christmas," he elaborated, "but I rebelled because you never got me anything, so I decided not to give you anything, either, and it's been gathering dust on top of my wardrobe ever since. You know, out of sight, out of mind. But since I got packing these days..."

Ingrid crossed her legs beneath her on the sofa. "Thank you, Dale, I—" She stopped short, at a loss for words. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Ingrid."

She scooted towards him, getting on all fours. The book slid out of her hand as she closed the distance between them without taking her eyes off him.

He braced himself for the impact.

Ingrid climbed up on him to kiss his lips. He held onto her waist, collapsing back on the couch. They made love for the last time on that sofa where it had all started. The irony—or the poetry—was not lost on either of them.

"Will I ever see you again?" Dale uttered in his usual timid voice.

They lay cocooned on the couch, with Ingrid's head on his bare, broad chest and his fingers tousling her hair. His heart beat straight into her ear and besides its tremulous thud, she could hardly hear anything else. She guessed his question, rather than understand it.

"I don't know, Dale. Maybe you will." She rose on an elbow to look into his eyes. "But this is the end of the line for us, for...this." She made a movement with her hand, which defined 'this' better than any words could have. "You have to let go. You have to...you have to hold your head high and keep your eyes open and not let roots prevent you from seizing your future. You're a good boy, Dale. You could do great things."

He just looked at her and made no response. Her body began to ache from the position she'd twisted it in, so she lowered her head on his chest and stretched an arm across his waist. One of his arms rested over her back, while the other one was bent at the elbow with the hand under his head.

*

Dale went to his dorm first thing in the morning and met up with Ingrid at the airport. They had lunch there together and Oskar joined them for coffee. Ingrid remained seated with her espresso cup in her hand while the two men hugged it out when they greeted each other.

"Are you nervous?" Oskar asked, sitting down, barely acknowledging her presence.

"Not yet," Dale chuckled, "I'm actually pretty chuffed to be going back home. I miss my dogs."

"Not your family?"

They all laughed.

They talked about Russia, about Dale's hopes and expectations, touching a bit on his fears and the aftermath of his experience in Germany. They all went with Dale to drop his luggage and get his boarding pass, then stood some distance from the security check-ups, still chatting.

Dale might not have been nervous before, but he sure was getting nervous now.

Ingrid noticed it and thought to put him out of his misery. "You haven't got much time left, Dale," she said, "you'd better go through, you still have to get through customs."

"Right." His lips moved, but the rest of him was frozen.

Ingrid pulled him in a reassuring embrace. "You've got this, big guy. Go get 'em."

He held her against him, as if he could postpone life by not letting her go. Ingrid had to release him to trigger his brain back to reality. Oskar delivered an encouraging pep talk of his own, shook Dale's hand and gave him a firm pat on the back. He stood next to Ingrid while Dale disappeared into the crowd.

End of an era.

"Can I give you a ride home?" Oskar spoke at last, addressing her directly for the first time.

Ingrid still stared into the distance, arms crossed over her chest. "You drove here?"

She turned to face him. He nodded.

Ingrid adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "Can you drop me off somewhere along the way?"

"Sure, no problem."

They walked to his car in silence and he got the door for her once there. She gave him directions that would bring them in the general vicinity of The Secret Keeper. He didn't ask for details and music began playing on the radio when he turned the key into ignition.

Cold enough to chill my bones...

Ingrid saw her smirking reflection in the window.

It feels like I don't know you anymore...

She glanced at Oskar from the corner of her eye, all stiff in his driver's seat, with both hands on the wheel and eyes trained strictly on the road.

I don't understand why you're so cold to me...

More of Maroon 5 filled the silence until they reached Ingrid's desired destination and she had to fight memories of their adventure attending the band's concert in Munich couple of years back. She'd bought him the tickets and they'd had so much fun, it hurt now to think of how distant they'd grown.

"Is this right?" Oskar asked as he pulled over on the side of the street.

"Yeah, this is perfect," she quickly replied and unbuckled her belt. "Thanks, Oskar."

"You know, I didn't think you could do it."

Ingrid halted just as she was about to get out of the car. "Do what?"

He still didn't look at her. "Not break his heart."

"I came very close," she conceded.

"It's a bit late for that rematch, isn't it?"

"There will be no rematch, Oskar. I don't expect you to forgive me, so I figured...well, I figured rough, unforgiving sex was the perfect ending to it. To us."

"I see." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Well, then I guess this is good-bye."

She pushed the car door open. "Good-bye, Oskar. Thanks for the lift."

Ingrid strode into The Secret Keeper through the back door and hopped onto her regular stool. It still was a few hours until opening time, but every member of staff greeted her as if she was one of their own. Someone thought to let Remi know she'd arrived. He walked up to the bar with a rag over his shoulder, grinning at her exhausted expression.

"Hey, baby, what can I get you?"

Ingrid heaved a sigh to cleanse her soul.

"Make me a latte. Two sugars. Then get me a whiskey."

*

a/n:

and that's a wrap on the first chapter of ingrid's odyssey. there's more to it - oh, so much more... - and i'll likely be working on it for a while, but i don't mind, as long as she gets her due. she's been waiting too long to be let out.

so if you've enjoyed ingrid's story so far, do stay tuned, because i have every intention to follow up with a sequel. make your voice heard, though - you have no idea how much it helps me to read your comments/reaction to the story.

cheers
☕

update: the sequel is up, check out Vodka Espresso
❤️