November Sky Read Free

joiede vivre that won many people over.
    She’d been in top form that day—my brother’s wedding day.
    Peter married Helen, his long-time girlfriend, whom the whole family loved. Almost the entire village turned out for the big, boisterous celebration. Anna and I wrote and performed a song about our little brother, with many verses on the highlights and embarrassments in Peter’s life. The refrain was “Peter, the little kid.” Mama accompanied us on the accordion to the tune of “Men Are Pigs,” garnering huge applause when she sang her racy solos.
    At the end of the evening, I—of all people—caught the bridal bouquet. Catching it was purely a reflex. I’d deliberately placed myself several feet away from Helen’s friends with their waving, outstretched hands. I had no intention of provoking fate. But when my newly minted sister-in-law tossed her gorgeous bouquet of white-and-pink roses in a high arc behind her head, it took an unexpected swerve and would have hit the ground in front of my feet. I automatically stuck out my hand to stop it from falling—and immediately heard from all sides that it was high time I looked for a potential mate.
    My big sister, who was two years married, stood by me. “Now leave Laura alone. When I was her age, I didn’t have a man to marry. And besides, she can pick up all the guys she wants in Munich. There’s a huge selection.”
    Anna meant well, but I was not the type to go out on regular manhunts. I was happy to be left in peace. If I noticed someone showing interest in me, I reacted with reserve and caution. It seemed like it was always the wrong ones. I didn’t like go-getters, so I mercilessly cut off those guys who thought they were the center of the universe and that every female should grovel at their feet. But shy men who couldn’t open their mouths were just as unattractive to me. I knew exactly what I didn’t want but couldn’t, at that moment, describe my dreamboat. For the most part, I thought I was better off without a boyfriend or a husband.
    I’d moved to a Munich suburb after two years’ training as a business-management assistant in a bank, and now I worked in the city and lived alone, as happy as a clam. Although I definitely wanted to have a family someday, I was in no rush to meet a man or get married. I knew from watching my sister and my married friends that marriage meant negotiating a lot of compromises. Once the kids came, it was even more difficult to find time for yourself.
    For the time being, I was enjoying my freedom and autonomy, which I’d never had during my childhood and teens. Our parents had been adamant about the three of us finishing school and graduating with honors. Time outside of school was all about doing our homework and pitching in with the housework and in the stables and fields. There was always something to be done, and so I could rarely indulge myself in my hobby—reading all kinds of books. It was only during long work breaks on the john or secretly under the bedcovers by flashlight that I devoured classics like Wuthering Heights , Doctor Zhivago , and Gone with the Wind with the same passion as most girls consumed modern romances. I loved any book as long as it had a lot of drama and stirring emotions. The problem was, Anna and I shared a room, and, to my chagrin, she needed absolute darkness to be able to sleep.
    So now I enjoyed all the more my freedom and the fact that I didn’t have to share my own small garret apartment with anybody. I hardly ever went out with friends. Instead, after work and on the weekends, I rode my bike, listened to music, and read for hours. I relished sinking into other worlds, feverishly taking part as a secret observer in the love, passion, and sorrow of the protagonists—and I could turn out my reading light whenever I wanted. And thanks to my knack for speculating in the stock market, I also had a nice nest egg of stocks and was making good money. Who needed a husband? As far as I