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Chapter Three
Two Weeks Later
Iinhaled the sweet notes of pear while I swirled the glass of schnapps under my nose. “Divine.”
I took a sip and let it linger in my mouth before swallowing. The golden ambrosia slid past my throat, heating me at once. A creaminess lingered with a hint of citrus. I closed my eyes, drowning in the aftertaste.
“Krampus Schnapps is our best seller at this time of the year,” Manuel said with a strong German accent.
I opened my eyes to find him standing across the bar from me, smiling. He was an older man with hair silvering at his temples, a medium build, and a long, salt-and-pepper beard. My distillery had its own bar for the staff and clients who flew in to visit us. With each passing day, I learned so much about whiskeys and schnapps, but there was always more. It would take me months, maybe years, to be fully immersed. For once, I felt as if I had a purpose. Something to focus on that would benefit my sister and me.
“It tastes like Christmas.” The warmth in my chest spread, and I needed a glass of this magic concoction before heading outside to tackle the growing coldness.
“Many in Europe offer a glass of this schnapps to Krampus on December 5th. They believe he can’t resist the drink, and it gets him drunk so he doesn’t steal their kids to punish the naughty children. An old superstitious tale from these areas to get children to behave before Santa arrives. It’s become a tradition, so our sales soar in December.” Manuel took a mouthful of his own glass, savoring the taste. He was the manager my uncle had appointed to run the distillery, and I saw why. He organized everything from ordering ingredients to running the factory to the delivery to different parts of Europe. So I decided I’d jump into the client side of things first, get to know our customers, network, and find new avenues. I wanted to feel needed.
He eyed the window where the feathery snow cascaded during another overcast morning. I hadn’t seen a clear sky or the sun since we’d arrived two weeks ago.
“Will you be okay to take out today’s delivery?” he asked. “I can come with you?”
I finished my schnapps, loving how it warmed me. “Ringsted’s only a couple of hours away, so I’ll be fine. Plus, Jakob owns a small franchise of bars throughout Austria, so it’s the perfect time for me to introduce myself as the new owner.”
Manuel collected my glass along with his and placed them into the dishwasher behind the counter. “The team has loaded the small van and it’s out the front of the house waiting for you. The address is in the car. I’ve contacted Jakob with a message that you’ll be visiting him this morning.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
Manuel rounded the counter and walked toward me. “I’ll make sure the place runs as smoothly as possible until you’re caught up.”
“Thanks.” I hopped down from my stool, and we both stood in silence.
“You have your uncle’s eyes.” His voice cracked slightly.
“I’ve never met him, but everyone speaks fondly of him.”
Manuel folded his arms over his small potbelly. “He had a huge heart but struggled to open to anyone. Which is fine because he always did right by me.” He patted my shoulder. “We all live with our demons the best way we can.” He marched toward the rear door and vanished out the back, which led into the warehouse.
Since moving here, I’d pushed my past out of my thoughts, and I intended to keep it that way. I headed outside as the snow came down, each touch a tiny kiss across my skin. With hands deep in the pockets of my puffy windbreaker, I closed the distance between the house and me. Yet Manuel’s words kept twirling in my mind about living with demons. Did he know more about my parents from my uncle? Was that why everyone treated Britta and me so nice and bent over backward for anything we needed? I sure hoped not because I hated pity. My younger years had been fucked up, but I preferred to forget about them.
But if my uncle had known this whole time about our past, why hadn’t he helped us? I wondered what had gone down between my dad and his brother to make them stay apart for so long. Not a day passed when I didn’t speak with Britta.
Regardless of his reasons, he’d left us his home and business. It turned a healthy profit. And I embraced my new life because now Britta and I faced a decent future—a better-than-decent future. Yet in the back of my mind, curiosity burrowed deeper, a need to discover the whole of my uncle’s story. Maybe one day, I’d get Manuel to open up and tell me more.
White covered the yard, and I passed a snowman we’d built yesterday. It was still in one piece, with a carrot for a nose.
I glanced behind the snowman to the pines as I did every day I walked this path, remembering the three deer. Since my first day here, I hadn’t seen them, but I stared in that direction expecting them to turn up again. They never did, and part of me felt as if they had checked on us to ensure we’d arrived home. There was no rational explanation for why I felt that way, but I didn’t push the idea away. It was better than looking over my shoulder in case any berserker deer charged from the shadows.
Britta burst out past the front door dressed all in red, bundled up in a beanie, gloves, boots and a long coat. “I’m coming too!” her excited voice boomed.
She darted toward the white van. I heaved a long sigh as I walked over to her. I held her shoulders and crouched down. “Not today, okay? I have to visit a client and it’s my first time. Next visit, you can come along. Deal?”
She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze swinging to the house behind us. I turned to find Jana rushing outside holding a banana.
“Britta, I madepalatschinken. Those thin pancakes you like with banana and cinnamon filling.” Jana’s strong German accent had her clipping her words. She was Britta’s babysitter and homeschool teacher, a woman in her sixties who lived nearby. All her children had moved out of home after her husband had passed. Now, she loved helping me out not only with Britta learning the local language. She was a blessing, and it was refreshing to have her in the huge house with us. I still wasn’t used to large living quarters. Britta and I had only ever lived in a one-bedroom apartment.
“I’m going with Nickie,” Britta snapped.
I shook my head and stood up. “Not this time. But when I come back, how about we plan an afternoon of snow angels? Plus, we need to get your applications ready for the local school.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Fine, but don’t be late.” She stormed past me and Jana, then vanished into the house.
