The vibrant spring had finally arrived in the Altstadt last week.
Jürgen looked at the skies, carressing with his withered hand, the smooth bark of the magnolia tree, planted right at the threshold of its namesake cafe. It was their morning ritual, honoring the tree before they started their day.
For the past 45 years, the tree had bloomed unfailingly, its pale blossoms canopying its rugged branches every spring, hugging each bough like a pastel gown. A heavenly fragrance would then waft across the street invoking romance in its wake. In fact the mayor commemorated the tree with its own spring festival which attracted quite a tourist footfall in their quaint town. This year however, the branches were barren and Jürgen worried.
Just like he worried about Chantel, who had lost her husband a few years back. There had been some scoundrels far and in between, but she always ended up alone. He empathized with her, for he knew the pain of loss.
That is why he had pulled some strings. May it it would work out this time, may be she would fall for the tall dark stranger who visited the Cafe since the last fortnight and fall in love. “Finally my Magnolia will bloom.” He would often whisper to himself, enjoying playing Cupid to his sweet granddaughter.
“Grammy planted the tree when she was seven.” Chantel was unusually chirpy. Every time he visited the Cafe, she felt a gooey chocolate eclair burst inside her heart. She would walk around with her head in the clouds and Jürgen, like always smirked.
“The women in your family fall in love long and hard. One glance and its a check mate. I should know.” Jürgen would sagely quip as he made his famous magnolia jelly with a side of buttered crumpets, which she hurried to deliver to the bustling tables.
“Grammy and her father built this place 60 years ago, and planted the magnolia sapling for the good luck. Since then, there has been no looking back.“ Chantel often regaled the tourists with her anecdotes as she shrewdly pushed their speciality products – the magnolia tea, the scented soaps and the magnolia potpourri at the cafe. And so the business had boomed, even though it required some serious sweat and blood year after year. “True love demands sacrifices, my dear Chantel!” Jürgen would say.
The old rascal was right, though she would never admit it to him.
***
“Oh my exasperatering Chantel, just kiss him and be done with it. He is as smitten as you are! When you know, you know.”
Jürgen could be a real push over!
“Tell him how you feel and go on a date. I even offered to prepare the midnight feast for you as my blessing.”
Chantel bit her lower lip. “What if he won´t? Can´t? What if all he wants is a fling?”
“Oh sweet Magnolias, you think so little of yourself. Ask and you shall receive! You will never know what he wants till you talk it out.”
The spring festival would start in a week. Jürgen looked towards the skies. He needed this one win for his lovely Chantel. Hence, if he had added a little something to the Magnolia tea the boy always ordered to hasten things up, all was fair in love and war, right?
***
Chantel fiddled with her dress, a slight panic in her heart. He had not visited the cafe since two days.
Had he left already? Should she have moved faster? Was it possible to be this sad over a young man she met a fortnight ago? Did love at first sight exist? All she knew was that she felt a raging hollow where her heart should have been.
“Lovesick” Jürgen had smirked!
Chantel cast one look at the cobble-stoned lane, before she turned to lock up for the day. The sight that greeted her, painted her world a lovely shade of russet. He sauntered purposefully towards her with a single lily and smiled his lopsided smile before he declared that he loved her.
***
The night was balmy, with the stars out to witness the two lovers sitting below the magnolia tree. Chantel gazed at him, amazed at her luck to find the love again.
He trailed his long fingers along her hair and confessed. “I have been wanting to leave the town Chantel, but I could not leave without you. I almost walked by so many times to say my goodbyes, but my feet would not move. I do not believe in love at first sight, but you happened to me, Chantel. Are you magic?” and he tipped forward and kissed her.
“Come with me.” He held out her half finished sketch for her to see. “Sell off this cafe and we will travel the world together. I have so much to offer you.” His hand moved up her thighs.
***
Chantel woke up in her bed, delirious the next morning, sheathed in terrible chills and fever. It was only after Jürgen force fed her his famous pancakes with magnolia syrup, did she feel better. The magnolia tree bloomed splendidly that morning all at once, its hypnotizing fragrance wafting thoroughout the lane, erasing her memories of the past week bloom by bloom.
That week, the newspaper carried a story about a missing tourist. Chantel curiously listened to the townsfolk gossip at the cafe with no inkling of who he was.
Sometimes, Jürgen saw Chantel kneeling under the tree weeping her heart out at dusk.
“Did she remember?” He worried.
The loafer’s life had ebbed away, just like so many before him, but he had swerved his purpose.
Did she relive how a sharp branch had stabbed the jugular of her lover that night, and his gushing blood had watered the beloved magnolia roots?
So much love to give, so much blood to shed! But Jürgen would do it time and again.
After all dear Chantel, true love demanded sacrifices, aint it?