A whole week passed before I found my way back to Johann’s house. And back to Lottie. It was not the lack of interest that kept me away from her, far from it. I thought about her every day, it seemed like I was thinking of her all the time.

Farting about with guilty pleasures rather than devoting my time to some serious work finally caught up with me and I found myself buried in accounts, shipment schedules and catalogue reports for six days straight. By the end of it all, I was so exhausted from concentration, my children’s insistent requests for papa to come and play, and most of all from my wife Sophia’s suspicious glares, that I spent two days in bed, shivering with fever and fatigue.

The streak of beautiful summer weather had turned on us, too and it was on a miserably cold and rainy Monday that I had found myself slowly skipping over puddles, jumping in attempts to avoid the splashing caused by numerous horse drawn coaches and calashes speeding down the paved streets, completely oblivious to the hardship of pedestrians, who were trying to get from one place to another without being drowned in filth.

Uncharacteristic winds for this time of the year were wildly blowing under my umbrella and long coat, playfully pushing them up, making me shiver with cold, as I had still not completely recuperated from the bout of slight illness, which had me in bed for two days.

I could not resist pleadings of my youngest daughter Sabine, the apple of my eye when she asked that I let her come along and had foolishly allowed her to accompany me to uncle Johann’s house after she had promised that she would quietly play in the study while I worked, fully aware that the house was empty of any company for her.

By the time we reached Johann’s house, we were completely soaked, shivering with cold, giving an appearance of two stray dogs that got caught in a downpour. As I reached for the steel knocker to announce our arrival, I was hit by a sharp stab of jealousy; a vivid image of Lottie sitting on her boyfriend’s lap made me change my mind and quietly push the front door open. I pressed my finger against Sabine’s lips, motioning her to be quiet. She looked at me curiously, with a mischievous conspiracy of a child and I whispered that we didn’t want to scare Lottie, did we?

How would we not scare the poor girl by simply showing up out of nowhere did not cross my six-year old daughter’s mind.

We entered quietly, pausing in the big hallway, while I listened intently for any hushed conversation, muffled yelps or anything else that I hoped would not be heard. The bang of the pan against the stove almost made me hit the ceiling; it was not loud but in my head it equaled a thunderbolt. I sighed in relief. She was alone, obviously going about her everyday business.

“Lottie!” I yelled out and the pan hitting the floor, bouncing twice before she managed to catch it – at least that’s what I pictured – told me that we’ve achieved exactly what I wanted and told my daughter that we should not do. I would bet my life I spooked her just as much as I did when walking in on her and Sebastian a few days earlier.

For one long moment there was no response until my daughter echoed my call. “Lottie?” she yelled and looked up at me, smiling worriedly. “Lottie, it’s us, Sabine and papa!”

Hurried steps approached the entrance to the kitchen and Lottie’s soft body wobbled into view. “Oh, oh.” She said, brushing strands of long hair that escaped her ribbon away from her face.

I was surprised to see my Lottie changed from the way I’ve known her for the past two years, since she had been serving in Johann’s house. Tight braids were gone and her hair was softly pulled into the bun on the back of her head, streaks of it wildly waving around her face. At that moment, she equaled an image of an angel.

“Good afternoon, Lottie,” I said pleasantly, amused at her confusion. I could have been wrong, of course, but I swear that panic in her eyes gave way to satisfaction. She was glad to see me!

“Goodness me!” Lottie exclaimed finally and ran from the kitchen door all the way down the hallway to where we stood. “This child is soaking wet!” she put her hands on Sabine’s hair and shot me an accusatory look. “She’ll catch her death with you dragging her around in this weather!” Obviously, she had enough of motherly instinct to show real interest even outside her employment.

“Come, Sabine,” she said and took my daughter’s hand. “Let’s find you some dry clothes and a towel for your hair.” Sabine was utterly amused by this bout of attention. “Come, come,” repeated Lottie and gently pulled the little girl away from me, hurrying towards the staircase that led to the children’s bedrooms.

I was left standing in the cold hallway as they rushed upstairs, Sabine taking two stairs at the time in order to be able to keep up with Lottie. I took my raincoat off and carelessly threw it over the high chair that was standing by the wall next to the front door. A book that I brought as a present for Lottie was hidden in the inside pocket of the coat, heavily weighing it down, pulling it off the chair. Chill ran up and down my spine and I regretted my weakness in allowing Sabine to come with me. The weather was too harsh for her frail health, even if we were in the middle of the summer.

As I settled myself in Johann’s study, flipping through the papers on his desk, completely lacking concentration needed to perform the task that I should have been undertaking, Lottie and Sabine appeared at the door, again holding hands, presenting an image of an odd couple of playmates. This was one of very moments when I had seen my lover for what she really was, barely more than a child herself.

I was able to take a good look at Lottie, wrapped up in a warm cardigan, which to my utter disappointment hid the generous cleavage that had excited me so much the first time I took the liberty of touching her body a few days ago. The cardigan was stained with white powdery streaks where she had brushed the flour off her hands while obviously baking just before Sabine and I came. Her face was pale with dark bags under her eyes, which nervously flickered between my daughter and me.

“I will warm up some soup, Herr Konrad.” She said as if expecting my consent. I simply nodded and she gently caressed the top of Sabine’s head. “Would you like to come with me?” she asked and Sabine shot me a pleading look. I nodded again and without another word, they turned on their heels in unison and disappeared into the hallway.

The wet clothes on my body, which Lottie obviously chose to ignore, were making me shiver and I was certain that I would be the one catching death if I did not change soon. Satisfied with decision that I was wasting my time trembling at the desk covered in papers that I could not stand to devote another minute of my time to, I walked to the kitchen and popped my head through the entrance. Sabine was sitting on the kitchen counter next to the stove, which would be according to my wife Sophia, a very unladylike behavior, happily chatting with Lottie, while carefully observing her every move. Lottie was stirring the pot on the stove, filling the kitchen with divine smells of fresh vegetables and spices.

“I’ll just run upstairs and change into something dry.” I said and Sabine turned around, smiling and waving at me like a little princess sitting on a throne. At the sound of my voice, Lottie jumped up as if I had just screamed in her ear, spinning around so quickly that for a moment I was afraid the pot of steaming liquid would follow. I had seen her be clumsy more than once, never mind that it was always caused by my words and actions. Her eyes would have easily reached the size of teacup saucers.

“Papa,” called Sabine just as I retrieved into the hallway and I popped my head back into the warmth of the kitchen. “Lottie is making us some soup!” she declared satisfyingly, as if I was oblivious to the fact.

“Yes,” I said and smiled at both of them.