by Katy Paige
As they got closer to the park, Erik heard music on the breeze, fiddles playing a slow, pleasant country ballad, and he realized that Katrin was humming beside him as they got closer and closer to the park, closer and closer to saying goodbye.
“What is this?” Erik asked.
“It’s called ‘Ashokan Farewell’…it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Farewell. That’s fitting. “Yeah. It is.”
They walked through a stone archway into Slighter Park, a nice little green area with a stage set up in front and a fair smattering of lawn chairs already spread out, locals settling in for some music as the sun set.
“This music was used in a PBS series about the Civil War,” Katrin said.
“It sounds old.”
“Funny thing is, it’s not that old. It was written in the 1980s by this guy and his wife who ran a summer camp called Ashokan somewhere in New York State. And I guess they got sad when the camp was over every summer, so they wrote this piece, and poured all of their melancholy into it. You can feel it, right?”
“Yeah.” He was quiet beside her. The music was the perfect expression of his feelings. Melancholy to leave her. Unfulfilled because he wanted her. Confused and sorry that he couldn’t do anything about it. “I can feel it.”
“Do you want to sit for a minute?” he asked, gesturing to a lone bench at the back edge of the park in the shadow of a copse of trees. It was set back from the edge of the grass, and the thick green ceiling above made it look more dusky and private than it actually was.
Under the trees.
She smiled and sat down, crossing her legs toward him. He leaned back, resting his elbows on the back of the bench like wings, staring ahead at the growing number of people spreading out blankets on the green lawn while “Ashokan Farewell” played on. He wanted to take her hand, but since he had pulled away from her at supper, he hadn’t touched her again. Better to leave well enough alone. She’s a nice girl, looking for forever. It made him melancholy when he confirmed with himself that no, he still wasn’t interested in forever.
He turned to her, watching her in profile as she listened to the beautiful music. He nudged her with his elbow.
“How come you’re a nurse? You think I could teach English? You could too. Easily. Nursing doesn’t seem like a natural fit.”
“I considered it.” She turned to him. “But something has to pay the bills. And I didn’t want to teach. I like kids, I mean, I’m crazy about my niece, Anna, but I’m not cut out for teaching twenty of them at one time. But, I love reading the classics. And you know what? Being an RN means no matter where I go, I can find a job, pay the bills, love what I love, and enjoy what I want to enjoy.”
Her answer was completely logical, and it surprised him. He didn’t think of her as such a pragmatic person. So far she’d seemed pretty emotional. Erik shifted his body toward her, only resting the elbow closest to her on the back of the bench. He looked at her thoughtfully.
“Practical.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am,” he said, caught off-guard by this side of her personality. “You seem like more of a dreamer to me.”
“I have plenty of dreams. But, yes, I think I’m practical in essentials.” She shrugged, looking forward, resting her folded hands on the top of her knee. She looked confident and mature beside him, an independent woman, no trace of the runaway kid she’d looked like last week.
“What are your dreams, Kat?”
“Mostly they’re the opposite of yours.”
“Go on. Tell me.”
She tilted her head to the side, giving him a look, hesitant.
“Go on,” he encouraged her again with a grin.
Say whatever you want to say, Katrin Svenson, and lay it on thick so I want to go running for the hills. Help me out here, because I don’t want to fall for you. I can’t fall for you.
“Why? What’s the point?” She bent away from him, seeming annoyed, staring out at the park before them. “Fine. Okay. My Dreams. By Katrin Svenson.
“I want to meet someone and fall in love with him. Head over heels. Like, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything but him. Like an illness and its cure at once. I heard that in a movie,” she admitted, chuckling at herself softly.
“Um…I want him to love me like he never had any idea of what love was until he met me. But, he’ll keep my heart safe. He’d never hurt me.
“I don’t want some long, drawn-out engagement and big, fancy wedding like last time. I want us to be so sure about each other that we get married right away—like, not a moment to waste. Jeans and a sweatshirt and a justice of the peace and our families. Simple. Perfect.
“Honeymoon somewhere amazing. Scotland or London, or even New York. And then back here, to Montana, because my family’s here, and family’s what makes a place a home. And, um…find a…a…sweet little house with a garden and a white picket fence. Sorry, Erik.”
She chuckled lightly again, but she didn’t look at him.
“Mmm. And at night we’ll read in front of the fire in the wintertime and on a porch swing in the summer, and he’ll tell me when he’s read something silly, and I’ll tell him when I’ve read something that makes me cry.
“And one day, he’ll come home from work and I’ll...um, I’ll ask him if he wants it to be a boy or a girl. And he’ll be just as happy as me. And we’ll just…” She swallowed, still looking straight ahead, still speaking in that dreamy, stream-of-consciousness voice, her face soft, but for the dimples that caved in as she described her perfect life. “…love each other. Be safe together. My heart. His heart…”
Her voice drifted off, and he stared at her, utterly transfixed. He tried to look away, but to his deep and mortifying concern, he couldn’t. Because as Katrin Svenson had described her perfect “someday” he hadn’t seen her with some anonymous guy, or even with Dr. Martinez.
He’d imagined her with him.
His heart started racing uncomfortably, and suddenly he couldn’t take a good, deep breath. His forehead broke out in beads of sweat, and his fingers started shaking. It was like all the blood was draining from his head, and he worried that he was going to faint. He tried to catch his breath, but the faster he tried to breathe in, the more impossible it was to fill his lungs. He put his hand to his chest, because it burned, and tears sprang into his eyes as his chest tightened painfully and he grew increasingly panicked.
He didn’t know how much time went by before he heard Katrin’s voice, as if through mist, in front of him.
“Erik. Erik. Listen to me. Erik, lyssna. Can you hear me? Nod if you can.” Her soothing voice competed against the loud thumping of his heart.
He managed to nod, feeling tears roll down his cheeks, still clutching at his chest. “I can’t—I c-can’t c-catch my b-breath.”
Katrin was squatting between his legs with her hands on his knees. She spoke calmly and very directly. “Erik. Lyssna. Listen. Listen to my voice. Lean your head down to me.”
He concentrated on her words, on the soothing comfort of the occasional Swedish mixed in, and did as she asked, leaning his head forward, until his forehead rested on her forehead. She rubbed her hands in circular motions on his knees. “That’s right. That’s good. That’s so good. Now, breeeeeeeeathe. In…and…out. In…and…out. Du är okej nu. Breathe. In…and…out.”
You’re okay now. He listened to her low, calm, gentle voice, following her instructions for what felt like eternity, until he could finally take a big breath that filled his diaphragm. He released it slowly and his head started to clear. Oh, my God. What was that? What just happened?
She kept rubbing his knees rhythmically, and he kept his forehead resting on hers, his hand finally falling from his chest. His voice still felt shaky.
“Jag är okej. I-I’m okay.”
“Mm-hm. You’re fine. Du är bra. You’re just fine. In…and…out. In…and…out.” Gently, she pulled her head back and he looked at her.
/> Katrin smiled gently, nodding at him encouragingly, her voice hypnotic. “In and out. In and out. It’s okay. You’re doing good now.”
He stared at her as his heart fell back into a steady rhythm and his breathing slowed down, releasing the tightness that had so frightened him. He searched her eyes for answers.
“You just had a panic attack. Probably an LPA. A limited symptom panic attack. A mild one, but they can feel pretty intense. Have you ever had one before?”
Erik shook his head back and forth slowly, aware for the first time that she was squatting between his legs. She must have realized it too because she braced her hands on his knees and stood up to sit back beside him on the bench. Without asking, she took his wrist, glanced at her watch for a moment and then smiled back at him brightly, releasing him. “Getting back to normal now.”
“Why—how—I mean, why did that h-happen?”
Katrin drew back from him, tilting her head to the side, a grim look on her face. “I’m not a doctor or a psychiatrist, so this would just be a guess. But, those commitment issues you have? I think they may go a little deeper than just feeling attached to your bachelorhood, Erik.”
Right. She’d been talking about husbands and kids and picket fences when he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. She’d been talking about those things, and he had pictured himself in her dreams. And it had scared him to death.
He nodded and ran the backs of his hands over his damp cheeks, then leaned back on the bench, embarrassed and unable to look at her.
She elbowed him in the side. “Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. I’m a nurse, remember?”
“Yeah.”
Not being embarrassed is impossible.
“Erik, I’m serious. It was just a little panic attack. No big deal.”
“Right. The guy who’s supposed to be looking out for you suddenly goes crazy. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Tears still stung the backs of his eyes and he blinked rapidly, looking down in mortification.
Katrin shifted to look at him, putting her little hands on either side of his face, pulling it up, looking angry with him. “Stop it.”
He tried to look back down in shame, but her hands tilted his face back up to look at her. “Look at me.”
He couldn’t look her in the eye, even as she cradled his face in her hands. He kept his eyes downcast.
“Erik. Please.” Her voice changed when she spoke again. Soft and thick with emotion. “Erik,” she started, then stopped and started again. “It doesn’t change anything…I’m still…I mean, I—Oh, to hell with it!”
Without any warning or hesitation, she moved her face close to his, and he felt her eyelashes close against his cheek as the pliant softness of her lips pressed against his. His forehead creased in momentary confusion before his body figured out what was happening, and he leaned into her.
The hairs on his arms stood up like dominoes in reverse and he closed his eyes, his fingers splaying out over her hips, almost spanning her tiny waist. His thumbs slipped under her sweater and he felt the warm, silky skin of her belly just over the top of her jeans. She sighed softly from the back of her throat as her fingers curled on his face, fingernails grazing his cheeks, which sent darts of pleasure all over his body and made his blood rush down, past his stomach, between his thighs. He pulled her closer, hungry to feel more of her, feeling stronger and whole, electrified by the touch of her mouth on his, her little fingers curled into soft fists against the hot skin of his face. This is good. This is better than good.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, touching his tongue timidly at first, then relaxing into his stroking rhythm. He slid his hands up under her sweater and ran his palms across the soft, warm planes of her back, while she moved her hands down to his neck where the tips of her fingers grazed his sensitive earlobes as he captured her tongue again and again, making her stay with him, melt into him, forget anything else but what was happening between them.
Without warning, she moved her head to the side sharply, and broke off the kiss, panting.
“Wait,” she whispered breathlessly, head bowed, hands flat on his chest. She bent her head all the way forward and let it rest right above her hands, under his chin, trying to catch her breath. His hands had stilled the moment she said “wait” and he lowered them from the warm skin of her back, kissing the top of her bowed head.
“I didn’t see that coming,” he breathed into her hair, smiling, kissing the top of her head again.
Katrin raised her head to look into his eyes. Hers were deep and dark, heavy with passion, but she also looked unsure of herself, worried.
“I didn’t plan it. I just needed you to know I didn’t—I didn’t see you any differently just because—”
“Shhh. I know.” He pushed her head gently back against his chest, catching his breath, stroking the hair away from her face. “I bet you’re a really popular nurse.”
She leaned back so she could look at him, lips pursed in disapproval, but deep dimples merry, like she was suppressing giggles.
“I work in the maternity ward, Erik.”
He winked at her. “Told you any man would want to play doctor with you.”
She scooted away from him on the bench, taking a deep breath, and smoothing her hair. Then she ran her fingers across her lips, like she was putting on lip gloss, only she wasn’t. She was rubbing him in, which made him feel hard again.
“Älskling,” he murmured.
His feelings for her were all over the place.
“Minste.”
She smiled at him, but it was a sad smile, tentative and small. “I have to go. It’s way past six. They’re going to wonder…”
She stood up, surveying the crowd for José, and Erik couldn’t help the stab of jealousy he felt. From his spot on the bench, he took her hand, and she turned to look down at him, biting her lower lip.
“Next Sunday…” he started. Katrin breathed deeply and nodded before he finished speaking. “…the whole day.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and tilted her head to the side, and her smile seemed a little brighter, a little less sad and worried.
“The whole day,” she repeated, searching his eyes. “Okay.”
He stood up without letting go of her hand, turning it over carefully and pressing his lips against her palm.
“Okay,” he breathed.
She gently withdrew her hand then turned without another word. When she was a few yards away, she turned and lifted her hand in a small wave. He raised his hand back, wishing she would suddenly run back to him, into his arms.
Don’t go yet. Stay with me a little longer, Katrin.
He watched her walk away into the setting sun to find her friends.
ENTR’ACT
(a week’s worth of flirty texting…)
Hope you found your nurse friend and Dr. Cassanova.
Hope to God he didn’t have a panic attack.
–M
***
Yes, I did.
No, he didn’t.
But, I think he strained his chest working at the clinic this morning.
Think I should offer him a therapeutic massage?
–Ӓ
***
If you do, I bet he “strains” his you-know-what next.
NO.
–M
***
You are fresh, Minste.
I thought we established I’m not that kind of girl.
–Ӓ
***
Kinda gave me hope at the end there, Ӓlskling.
***
You’re very naughty, Minste.
Hope it’s sunny on Sunday.
By the way, what are we doing?
***
Thought we’d explore.
Probably Flathead or Wild Horse.
(Or your bedroom.)
***
You could use a little fresh air.
See you in three days.
***
I’m a good tour guide.
But, fair warning, I plan to feel very panicky.
***
***
Pack a change of clothes just in case.
(Or don’t. That’s fine with me.)
Either way, wear sensible shoes.
***
Tomorrow.
***
Tomorrow.
Söta drömmar, Ӓlskling.
Chapter 7
Katrin waited on the porch swing, pushing back and forth against the porch floor distractedly with the toe of her sneaker. Next to her feet was a small backpack and she held her phone in her hand, looking back through the series of texts they had swapped during the week.
It was too chilly for the hot pink, short-sleeved, scoop-neck t-shirt that fit tightly over her fuller breasts but she didn’t care. If José’s double-take on the stairs this morning was any indication, it was the right choice for Erik Lindstrom. She’d grabbed a windbreaker and smiled to herself, reasoning that the old jeans and sneakers she was also wearing more than balanced out the curviness of her top. A girl was allowed to have a little fun, right?
She hopped off the swing for a moment, digging around in her purse for the postcard she’d written to her mother and then popped it in the mailbox, jauntily flicking the little red flag up with a grin. She had spoken to her mother the day before and was relieved to hear that Wade hadn’t been back around bothering her, and hadn’t been seen by Kristian and Ingrid either, which meant she and her mother could just have a nice catch-up about life in general.
“You’re liking it up there, Katrin Marie?”
“Mom, you have to come up! It’s so lovely. We could have tea, and they have these concerts in the park. We could have a girl’s weekend!”
“You have to send me some pictures over the email, honey.”