Chapter One

Miles of ocean passed beneath us before the plane landed at the airport in Amsterdam. I was too nervous to sleep during the flight. The strangeness of my adventure had by then dulled my mind, while heightening my physical senses. I noticed the movement around me, restless passengers as anxious as I was to complete the trip: businessmen and casual travelers, women dressed in everything from stuffy business suits to sweats. I heard their grumbling comments to companions, listened to their laughter, subdued and tired by the time the trip was at its end. I smelled their scents; musty, stale, each a unique perfume.

I felt apart from them, as if I didn’t belong in their seasoned company. I was sensibly wearing a pair of black slacks, a new green sweater and a pair of walking shoes. Neil said I looked like a world traveler—although I knew he was just joking. Neil had always been secure with my dressing modestly. Perhaps he was as nervous as I was about this trip and who I’d meet. This was more than a trip; we would be apart for the first time since we were married three years before.

He let me go with little effort, and I tried not to wonder why it was so easy. After all, we are madly in love, like newlyweds.

Perhaps he was simply happy for me, winning the art fellowship. Me, Marlena Rowlands, who’d never won anything in her life. I submitted my portfolio of pen and ink sketches and watercolor landscapes months before, with no thought of being accepted by the prestigious program. I was sure that this Midwest girl would never be able to compete with the New York art crowd and their cutting edge vision of man, society and artistic expression. When the fellowship committee called, my legs went weak, buckling out from under me in the front hallway of the apartment. I sat on the hardwood floor, the phone receiver still in my hand, weeping, while Juggles, my cat, wandered into my lap, curled up and purred.

“Accept?”

“Yes, well, yes, I suppose,” I must have sounded like a fool, “Of course. I’m delighted.” Of course, I was delighted, thrilled, shocked, stunned, afraid.

The plane touched down and my insides burst with unplanned warmth, like a predilection. In the region of my crotch, but expanding ruthlessly outward until my fingertips were tingling and my poor fingers were hardly able to function. Rising to my feet, I raised the strap of my carry-on over my shoulder and moved, head down through the crowd on the way to the baggage claim. As I looked up searching directional signs in English, I could feel the panic in me begin to surface.

A foreign country and a different life lay ahead.

I had read