Page 66 of White Room Virgin

“You’d make me very proud if you took over the farm. You know that,” my father grumbled. “Unfortunately, you’re not lucky enough to have siblings like Martin.”

“What is it that you don’t like about Laura?” my mother inquired. “Or … do you have a girlfriend in Zurich?”

Oh boy …

“Jonah?” my mother probed. “Have you met someone?” Her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Yes, I’ve met someone,” I replied with difficulty.

Is that a lie? Jesus Christ! Forgive me!

“Oh, how nice!” my mother rejoiced.

“It’s about time,” my father said. “At the regulars’ table, people were already joking about whether you might be a fag. Go ahead and sow your wild oats, boy.”

“Erwin!”

“What? Better a city girl than a faggot.”

My throat tightened, and I bit my lower lip so hard I could taste the blood. The images of the night with Lucien popped into my head and I even heard myself moaning. Loud and full of lust. And then my cock twitched too.

Damn!

How had I gotten so far off track? And why was I making it unnecessarily difficult for myself when everything could be so easy?

Find a woman. Marry her. Have a few kids and my parents will be happy. And I’ll be happy too… definitely. After all, I’m not a faggot.

The next night I lay awake staring at the ceiling. I couldn't get my father's words out of my head, and every time Lucien crept into my thoughts, the internal stress became so great that I clenched my hands into fists so tightly that my fingernails dug painfully into my flesh. I desperately needed something to take my mind off things and make the rest of my vacation with my parents easier. Because no matter how I turned it around, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of wanting to see Lucien.

So I called Daniela.

If there was one woman to consider, it was her.

Of course, I thought carefully about what I wanted to tell her. It had been six weeks since we met on my birthday. Perhaps I should apologize for not getting in touch for so long. Or was it better not to say a word about it and just ask her what was going on in her life? Maybe she was in a relationship now. And if not? Should I ask her out for a coffee or a glass of wine? In the afternoon or in the evening? Or should I perhaps ask Martin for advice first?

Nonsense … just do it. What could possibly go wrong?

With stiff fingers and a pounding heart, I searched my address book for her number. Her profile picture only showed a snowy landscape, but she was the only Daniela I had saved, so that had to be her number. Hesitantly, I pressed the button and let it ring.

“Hello?”

I swallowed and was paralyzed for a moment. I hadn’t expected her to answer so quickly.

“Um … hello … Daniela … it’s me … Jonah. It’s been a while, but …”

“Oh, hello, Jonah! Nice to hear from you! It’s been a while!” She actually sounded pleased to hear my voice, and I felt a great weight lifted from my shoulders. I had expected her to have erased me from her memories a long time ago.

“Yes … a while ago …” I stammered awkwardly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing great! And you?”

“Yes … thank you … everything’s fine. I … um.” It actually wouldn’t have hurt to make a few notes. “I was … thinking about you, and … thought … I thought … maybe you’d like … a coffee … with me …”

My goodness, I’m being ridiculous.

“Yes, that sounds good. I’m up for it. When is convenient for you? I’m in the mountains for a few more days, but I’ll be back soon.”

“I won’t be back in Zurich until Saturday either,” I replied, relieved that my voice was no longer shaking.

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