Roadtrip (Part 2)

Posted on Sun Apr 5th, 2026 @ 10:41 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao
Edited on on Sun Apr 5th, 2026 @ 10:41

Chapter: Gobsmacked
Location: Karlsruhe, Germany
3326 words - 6.7 OF Standard Post Measure

In due course, it became important to slow down.

As much as it was a necessity met with some disappointment, it was counter-balanced by a sense of anticipation now that the intended destination was now a very tangible vista. In all the times she'd visited her father, Liana wasn't quite sure she'd ever come this exact way, which not only made navigation something that required focus once more but also left her reasonably circumspect about how un-touristy those trips had always wound up. It wasn't from lack of interest, being more or less a natural consequence of the industriousness of her father and stepmother. The pair didn't slow down for much, not even visitors.

When Liana had first told Alastair, with a very sincere deadpan betrayed only by a mischievous glint he was becoming well-versed in recognising, that her father had bought out a fairly traditional tavern in Karlsruhe, it had taken her a moment to explain that Gasthaus Karl wasn't so much a hat-tip towards the location as a pretty standard tongue-in-cheek self-promotion from a man whose standard joke was to plead modesty regarding the need to name an entire city after him. Karl Schultz could not have been more humble had he tried but he had a wicked sense of irony and was pretty tickled that life had lined up his ducks to such an advantage. His partner, a common-law arrangement also mostly because neither were inclined to take time off for things like weddings, was a fiesty woman of Franco-German descent and the fact that she had willingly gone along with pouring her entire life into House of Karl said a lot about her sensibilities, or at least her pragmatic ability to pick her battles. It had taken Liana a while, all those years ago, to realise he was serious about this next chapter of his life. Questionable joking aside, she was so grateful that it seemed to be working for him.

The city was an orderly affair; long, straight streets that seemed deliberately arranged, fanning outward as if someone had drawn them from a single point. The central palace, (a source of ongoing delight for Karl, who called it his summer retreat), was focal and, the tavern, housed near the city centre, would have had a decent view of it had it not been for the surrounding trees. Tucked into one of the older streets near the Marktplatz, Gasthaus Karl stood with the quiet confidence of a place that had been there for generations. Its exterior was modest but unmistakably traditional: pale plaster walls edged with dark timber beams, small-paned windows glowing with warm yellow light and a wrought-iron hanging sign that creaked faintly whenever the evening breeze moved through the narrow street. Liana's first impression of the place had been of something so quintissentially German that it almost ran the risk of becoming a mockery but it hadn't taken her long to realise, with loving affection, that it pretty much summed up her father perfectly. At this time of night, during this time of year, the surrounding streets were moderately quiet.

Omen, quite rightfully so, was earning a few double-takes.

"Next right," Liana murmured, having lapsed into a pensive, watchful silence that masqueraded as a navigator's focus but also went a good way towards betraying her mounting nervousness. It wasn't quite apprehension; there was nothing about this introduction that worried her at all. That didn't stop it from being a big deal.

By the time Karlsruhe came in sight it was more than obvious that Alastair was very tired. Not quite exhausted yet, but not far off. He had been driving for the majority of the journey and had driven straight through the night after getting only a few hours of sleep. By this time he was quite ready to park Omen and stretch his legs, only having been able to do so the few times they had to stop to put more gasoline in the car. "So, your dad's name is Karl," he mused as they passed the city limits sign. "He runs Gasthaus Karl. In Karlsruhe," Beat. "I mean, the man has a theme and he's sticking to it. I can respect that," he offered with a chuckle.

Turning right where she told him to, the looks that his JDM import received lifted his spirits. He could tell by now by people's expression whether they were just drawn in by the noise from the souped up six-inline with its characteristic snarling exhaust note, or the Skyline's understated, pearl white coachwork with its tasteful 70s musclecar lines. Here and there he got a thumbs up or a wave in appreciation, a gesture he always ensured to return in kind. "Are they expecting us?" he asked. Though almost certain of the answer, he did want to mention it just to have it crossed off and to ensure they were on the same page.

The look Liana shot him was fleeting yet surprised, a mixture of confusion that she hadn't already mentioned as much and concern that he would think for a minute she'd leave something so important up to chance. "Of course," she reassured, and then, eager not to let her nerves create unnecessary tension, managed a tight smile. "Trust me, I know better than to show up unannounced, much less in the company of an established musician." Reaching across, she gave his forearm a squeeze. "I don't think he's quite recovered yet so I will apologise in advance if he talks your ear off."

A glance forward saw her sit up straight.

"Here we are."

Though the tavern's street frontage wasn't designed for parked vehicles, it was only a short trip down the side of the property to the establishment's guest parking. With a gentle nudge, Liana guided Alastair past the spaces, following the road until the private turning circle opened up and, off it, the dual carport that was notably absent of any other vehicle. The bikes were locked in the adjacent shed, Liana knew, and though she hadn't mentioned it as they'd passed, she'd recognised her father's car as one of the handful parked in guest spaces. It didn't usually live there, of course, but accommodating a far more expensive vehicle had required some shuffling.

He had meant 'at this hour' but decided it wasn't worth the energy to add that, now after the fact. He blamed being rather tired. That usually worked, as excuse. "This looks like a very nice place," he smiled as they approached the building, taking a moment to appreciate the modern rustic style. A bit sparse in detail perhaps, but a lack of busy embellishments just for the sake of being busy embellishments worked rather well to help establish a somewhat austere, yet inviting atmosphere. A space to relax in, without undue distraction. Omen pulled in to the indicated parking space, Al felt somewhat self-conscious about the obvious owner's carport but since that was what Li pointed to, that was where he would park her. Once stopped, he turned off the engine and with a quiet wince - his arm still hadn't fully healed - he folded his tall self out through the driver side door and took a moment to stretch and yawn.

In the grand scheme of things, there was very little resemblance shared between Liana and her father. The unusual shade of her hair was probably, she had always speculated, at least partially the fault of her mutation even though it may have taken a slight hint from the mop of frantic ginger curls her father usually wore just long enough to pull back into a low ponytail. In most other ways, however, she was her mother's daughter; from her lithe posture to her dusky complexion, the Asian influence had been a good deal stronger than sturdy German genes could thwart. There were subtelties, however, best noted when observing the pair side-by-side, that hinted at an underlying compatibility if not of physical appearance then of general outlook and disposition. Liana wasn't exactly bold but her confidence was far from a fabricated front, and amongst friends, the sparkle of deviousness known to monopolise her expression spoke of an influence that fell far outside traditional Asian propriety.

Karl Schultz was not built for stealth. Even outside, he seemed to fill up space with the sheer exuberance of being alive.

"Here they are," the man declared, stepping out through the back door of the attached living quarters with a tea-towel still in his hands. Evidentally, he had been in the middle of chores, which was not an uncommon thing. Liana, having taken pains to put herself on an interception path, achieved her intended goal by being the first to be swept up in an embrace that radiated joyful affection. Her father's declarative laugh honked triumphantly in her ear and, for at least a brief moment, Liana set her nerves aside to simply enjoy the long overdue reunion. Whatever complications existed in her family, they did not resonate here.

"Alastair Temple," Karl continued over the top of his daughter's head, releasing her soon after to step forward with both hands extended. "Well I be damned, she wasn't kidding. Karl Schultz," he continued, his features unable to decide between the effusive joy of meeting someone so important to his daughter and his own starstruck recognition.

Alastair beheld an overabundance of energy as well as personality, just as Liana had warned him. While that wasn't his own style, being a more reserved and some might say calculating person himself, he knew the value of a good first impression, and figured that answering the man's exuberance with matching energy would go a long way towards that. While a more reserved person would've likely gone for a double handshake, the way Karl carried himself lead to Al making the split second decision to open himself up for a hug. "Herr Schultz," his rich baritone rumbled. "Just Al will do fine."

It was as if someone had bottled sincerity and crafted it into the shape of a slightly-rotund man. The height difference was marginal but in Alastair's favour and yet, undaunted, Karl barked a delighted laugh as he accepted the offer with a back-slap. "Karl, Karl. We don't do surnames around here." The embrace was unreserved and yet did not linger past the point of comfort, aided by the vantage it gifted the older man that lead to full appreciation of Omen for the first time. "All in one piece?," he asked, attention shifted back towards his daughter, a roving cheerfulness that lead to the next offer. "Can I help get anything inside?"

"Roughly one piece," Liana replied, stepping forward to open the boot before her father could get any ideas. Rather than argue, she drew out her suitcase and handed it to him, leaving both hands free to drag out her violin case, which she set aside to focus on reaching for Alastair's bag. Under most circumstances, this was usually a flipped dynamic, but a flare of astute empathy left her unwilling to draw attention to how much her boyfriend was favouring his recovering arm. "Nothing a bath and an actual night's sleep won't fix."

And a strong, hearty breakfast. With wurst, eggs and bacon, Al thought, though he didn't vocalize it as he didn't want to impose. After all, taking care of guests was what Karl did for a living, and Al didn't want to put the man to work three minutes after pulling up in his car. By the time he could good and well reach the boot of the pearl white import all that was left for him was his guitar case, which suited him fine - his arm was giving him some trouble. Holding it in very near the same position for over five hours on end would do that. Part of him felt the urge to insist on carrying more, but the way Liana had jumped on the job even when Al was still being greeted by Karl told him enough; she knew the arm was bothering him and wanted to help, in her own way. He appreciated that.

"Made good time on the Autobahn," the tall musician mused. "Time of day helped; not much other traffic to get in the way."

"You picked the eyes out of the weather too," Karl declared as he lead the way in through the back door. "Would have been a different experience this time last week."

The residential lodgings were a semi-detached arrangement, dual-storey and yet small enough to be labeled cosy provided the pair who occupied them didn't try to squeeze too many visitors in. The back door lead immediately into the kitchen, which was a good deal smaller than the commercial-grade one Karl spent most of the day in. This one, however, smelled of a chef's welcome, and was warm enough to confirm the stove was in the midst of preparing just the right amount of salted sustenance to refuel a weary body. The decor was fairly simplistic, though someone had a penchant for indoor plants that leaned towards excessive, and the radio sat atop the fridge was tuned to a station that seemed to serve as mere background noise. Currently, it seemed to be hosting some sort of talk-back segment, though Liana's German wasn't strong enough to really follow any of it.

"Nee's put you in the suite," her father continued, which interrupted Liana's fond surveillance.

"Oh Dad, you didn't have to do that."

Both hands held aloft, Karl offered the universal gesture of a man who knew better than to argue. "I told her you'd say that, she set it up anyway." The suite was one of the rental accommodations, the largest of the self-contained rooms. It technically would be a lot more comfortable than trying to squish into their second bedroom but it still felt like a partial imposition. "Might as well go drop your things, food'll be ready in a few. Are we wanting coffee, tea or something stronger?" The burly man grinned and then, to Liana's affectionate resignation, winked. "Been a good mead season."

"Just - coffee for now, for me. Thank you Karl," Al was starting to feel a bit out of place. Having never really visited someone that he could remember; certainly not in his adult life. Not like this. And being so tired didn't help either. He could do with a good, strong coffee though, that much was certain. Following inside, he smiled at the decor. The plants were a nice touch, even if they were a bit - ... much. Or many. But it added atmosphere to the area, although part of him pondered the wisdom of keeping plants in a kitchen, but he knew he was not nearly wise enough in the ways of kitchens and / or plants to question it. Plus, they seemed vital enough. He could understand the basic gist of the talk-back segment on the radio, being conversational in German. Languages had always been relatively easy for the man to learn - and, after all, wasn't music a language in and of itself?

"Pot's on," came the response, and though Liana knew her father would be bursting at the seams with questions and prompts, she also deeply appreciated the man's eternal tact. If nothing else, he had a traveller's empathy and rather than ply the pair with an over-abundance of hospitality, he instead shooed them in the direction of their quarters with confidence enough that Liana would remember the way, and focused his attention on putting the finishing touches on the food. It was his way.

For the most part, Liana remembered the way.

It was, when it was all said and done, just a large bedroom with its own bathroom adjacent. For the couple of nights they would spend here, it was ample and private enough that there would be a chance to retreat rather than try to side-step around the small residential spaces. Liana set her violin case and both her suitcase and Alastair's bag on the bed and stood a moment in the relative silence to simply enjoy it. A deep sigh released the tension across her shoulders she'd been holding onto.

"Well, here we are," she said, turning to Alastair. Her expression, a mixture of hesitation and hope, eased itself into a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, I told them under no uncertain terms were they to close up today, there didn't seem a lot of point when I figured we'd be too exhausted to spend any decent time with them until this evening. Dad will set out breakfast before he heads out, and Leonie's not here because she's already opening. No interrogations yet."

Al had seen plenty of hotel rooms and similar during his time as a touring musician, a life that he missed and did not miss at the same time. This one rated quite up there, especially in the little touches. Some 'suites' had been overly kitsch in decoration, tasteless trifles everywhere just to add details and busy-ness, not this room. The decor was tasteful, evoking a place of rest and calm, and that suited him just fine at this very moment. It helped that it was also cleaner than many rooms he'd been to, whoever took care of this suite cared about their job and did it well.

For now though he banished such thoughts to the background as he set down his guitar case, not even really caring that it slipped and fell over as he did, before moving to embrace Liana in a hug, embracing her closely. He needed something comfortable and familiar, some place safe, just for a few moments to help charge his social battery, and there was no place warmer or safer than this. Eyes closed, he heaved a deep sigh, slowly his tired expression replaced with a soft smile. "Mmmm. I needed this. Everything is - ... a lot. Thank you."

It had taken such a short time, relatively speaking, for the shelter of his arms to feel like home. Liana didn't think twice about wrapping her arms around his middle and leaning her head, cheek-first, against his chest. The trip hadn't been as physically draining on her and yet she still couldn't imagine trying to function without at least a few hours sleep between now and a late-lunch. Nestled against the slightly-wrinkled fabric of Alastair's shirt, Liana smiled and nodded in faint agreement. "A whole lot. I'm glad we're here though."

As she pulled back to look up at him, Liana realised she meant that in more ways than just the presently obvious. It seemed a little ridiculous to have got to her age and never broached the issue of introducing a partner to her father, but she was infinitely grateful now that she had waited. Alastair was someone worthy of that connection, someone she could see building a lasting friendship with one of the most important influences in her life and someone she could trust to value that bond enough to nurture it. This trip was more about them than it was her, so the fact Alastair was even willing to put himself through it was...well, to use his words, a lot.

Affection laced her expression as she studied his tired face. "How about I go make a tray and bring it in here?" She lifted a hand to ease a wayward curl away from his eyes. "You look about ready to crash."

"Mm. I am," he eventually broke the embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I wasn't going to suggest it, but a tray and then a few hours of sleep sounds just perfect right now," A soft chuckle. "Breakfast in bed, in a gasthaus, in a foreign country, on holiday with my girlfriend," he smiled. "Sounds like the lap of luxury to me. I could get used to this."