East of the Sun, West of the Moon

by Carole Bellacera

  Leigh hung up the phone, her brow furrowed. That word again. Love. Impossible, totally futile love.

  * * * *

  An omen, Leigh thought. It had been a good omen that Erik's spring break coincided exactly with the week of the conference in New York. Together, they'd prepared his cover story. He would be spending spring break with a classmate in North Carolina.

  In reality, he'd caught the shuttle flight to New York the day after Leigh left for the conference. They'd had two days together before the conference started on Friday.

  Hand-in-hand, they'd traversed Central Park, feeding the ducks and watching the motorized sailboats at the pond, lingering at the Alice-in-Wonderland statue nibbling on ice cream and watching the people go by. They'd taken the ferry to Liberty Island where Erik had insisted they climb all 102 steps to Lady Liberty's crown. With Erik, she'd looked at New York with new eyes, and it had been beautiful.

  But the magic really happened after they'd returned to Deanna's penthouse in the evening. What bliss it had been to make love without fear of discovery. And to wake in the morning in his arms.

  On Thursday afternoon, they'd returned to the apartment earlier than usual, knowing that once Leigh's conference began the next day, their time together would be limited. Erik made love to her slowly and sweetly, and afterwards, Leigh summoned the courage to ask him a question that had been lingering in her mind for the last few weeks.

  "Will you stay through the summer, Erik?” she whispered. “We spend July and August at our beach house in Delaware. Bob will be in Washington most of the time. We can find time to be alone there."

  One eyebrow rose and his mouth quirked in amusement. “So, the summer is all you're offering me?"

  Her hand slid up his sweat-dampened chest. “What more do you want?” she asked lightly.

  His eyes burned into hers, all trace of laughter gone. “I want you to leave your husband and come to Norway with me."

  When she realized he was serious, she looked away. “Erik..."

  "I know. You don't have to say it.” He snuggled her closer to him, his lips brushing the top of her head. “I'll stay with you, Kayleigh. As long as I can."

  * * * *

  When Leigh awoke, it was to see Deanna's bedroom aglow with the golden light of the setting sun. She stretched languidly, wondering how long she'd been asleep. Yawning, she sat up. After a moment, she swung her legs over the bed and stood up, pulling on a robe to cover her nudity. She moved quietly through the apartment, searching for Erik.

  He wasn't there. Out on the balcony, she found his opened book on the wicker table. Apparently, he'd awakened earlier and read for a while. Had he gone for a walk? A ripple of apprehensive swept through her at the thought. But immediately, she pushed it away. It was stupid to worry about a six-foot, four-inch man in peak physical condition, even if they were in one of the most notorious crime capitals of the world. He would be back soon. Maybe he'd just gone out to get them some dinner.

  Leigh decided to sit in the sauna for a few minutes. Her muscles still ached from the climb at the Statue of Liberty. Wrapped in one of Deanna's luxurious bath towels, she settled herself on the redwood bench and poured a small amount of water onto the hot rocks. The steam billowed around her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and smiled. The Finns knew what they doing when they invented sauna. There was something almost mystical about it.

  She'd lost track of the time when the door to the sauna opened and a cool blast of air swept into the small room. Naked, Erik walked in. Her relief at seeing him, intact and uninjured, was so great she stood up to meet him, clutching the towel around her. The door closed behind him, and they were enclosed in a cocoon of heat and mist.

  Erik's hand reached for hers and without speaking, he led her back to the bench. He turned to ladle more water onto the rocks. The steam surrounded them so he all but disappeared from sight, but she knew he was there for his warm hands were upon her shoulders as he knelt down between her legs and slowly unwrapped her towel. He leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth, tonguing it until it grew hard and stiff. Then, he moved to the other one. Leigh's fingers entwined in his damp, flaxen hair as her mouth parted to draw in the misty, hot air in tiny gasps. A lovely heat radiated out from the cleft between her legs as his mouth left her breasts and trailed wetly down her mid-section to her navel where his tongue delved in hungry ardor. But the journey wasn't over. He drew away from her and gently pushed her back onto the bench. His blue eyes burned into her hungrily as he parted her legs and then bent his head to taste her.

  She felt his tongue, warm and wet between her thighs. Electric shock waves burned from her lower belly. She moaned and opened her eyes, but all she could see were white walls and mist. The delicious torment of Erik's tongue was almost too much to bear. She moved languidly, arching her back, her hands clenched upon taut wet breasts. The hard bench beneath her body cut uncomfortably into her shoulder-blades and buttocks, but she was beyond caring. She murmured incoherently, then finally gasped out, “Erik. Please, now, now, now..."

  In one smooth movement, Erik scooped her into his brawny arms and moved toward the door of the sauna.

  "Ja,” he whispered. “But not in here."

  A blast of cool air hit them as they passed through the doors. Leigh shivered against his naked chest, burrowing her face against him. But the chill passed quickly after he placed her upon the water-bed and gently rolled her over onto her stomach. The warmth of his body covered hers from behind as he urged her up on her knees. His long slender fingers slid down the soft skin of her belly to the sensitive button between her legs. A voltaic thrill shot through her. She felt his erection throbbing against her buttocks, and she whispered deliriously, “Yesyesyesyes..."

  "Soon...” he murmured. “...we have so much time, kjareste.” His hands moved to her nipples, teasing them mercilessly as Leigh rocked back and forth, wanting him more than ever before. She burned for him, craved him.

  Hurry.” Leigh gasped. “I'm on fire for you."

  "Ja.” One hand moved back to the throbbing center between her legs and at the same moment, he eased into her from behind.

  "Oh, God!” Leigh cried out, awed by the enraptured storm of sensation she was experiencing. As his strokes intensified, it was as if he were touching a place that had never been explored before. The adventurer had uncovered a reservoir of unbridled emotion that had lain dormant for years. Erik had discovered her soul.

  They reached the peak together with a blinding explosion of fireworks. Leigh gasped and slumped to the bed, inexplicable tears streaming down her face. Erik withdrew from her and rolled over at her side, his shaking hands still clutching her to him. She buried her face into his neck, unable to stop weeping. He held her tightly, and as she moved her hand up to caress his jaw, she felt the wetness there, and knew she was not alone in her sweet anguish.

  * * * *

  Deanna called a few days after their return from New York. “Do you know The Wayfarers in Alexandria? Can you meet me there at one o'clock for lunch?"

  Leigh arrived at the quaint little restaurant in Old Town and followed the maitre ‘d to the front parlor overlooking the quiet cobblestone street. Deeply-tanned from her trip to the Caribbean, Deanna grinned up at her.

  "Am I late?” Leigh asked, looking at the half-eaten wedge of pie on Deanna's plate.

  "No,” Deanna mumbled before swallowing another huge bite. “I just couldn't wait. I have a passion for their chocolate mousse pie. Don't worry. I'm still having lunch."

  The waiter appeared to take their order. Both of them decided on the restaurant's specialty, steak and mushroom pie, English-style. Deanna grinned. “What the hell? Let's have a bottle of wine, too. There's nothing like chocolate mousse washed down by a nice glass of burgundy, right?” She waited until the waiter had gone before she smiled slyly and leaned forward. “Well, am I going to have to drag it out of you? How was your week in New York? Did Erik enjoy the water-bed?"

  Leigh felt her ch
eeks pinken. “It was very nice."

  "It was very nice,” Deanna mimicked. “God, Leigh. You're not talking to UPI! I promise I'll keep mum."

  "It's just that I feel uncomfortable talking about Erik and me."

  Deanna's face grew serious. “Hey, look, I know it's none of my business. But we are confidants in this. I thought maybe you might like to talk about it. It's hard to hold in a secret like that. Leigh, you're positively glowing! Don't you want to talk about him?"

  "Yes, of course I do,” Leigh said. “But I don't want you to think it's just a sordid affair. Erik wants me to leave Bob and go to Norway with him."

  Deanna's mouth gaped. “Are you serious? Jesus!"

  "Of course the whole idea is preposterous! I told him it was out of the question. I think he's accepted it, but he's not happy."

  "What did you expect?” Deanna lit up a cigarette. “The man is in love with you."

  "He thinks he's in love with me. When he's back in Norway, he'll think of me with affection and then marry a beautiful blonde.” Avoiding Deanna's eyes, Leigh fiddled with her crystal water glass, moving it around on the rose linen tablecloth. “A young beautiful blonde,” she added bitterly.

  "I think I hear that old green-eyed monster in your voice,” Deanna said. “Are you in love with him?"

  "How can I be in love with him?” Leigh asked, pushing the water glass decisively away. “I'm too old for him!"

  "What has age got to do with love?"

  The waiter arrived with their lunch. They were silent for a few minutes, each lost in her own thoughts. Then after taking a sip of wine, Deanna looked at Leigh sharply. “How do you feel about your husband since you've been with Erik?"

  "Most of the time, I hate him,” Leigh said. Then, a second later, “No, it's not hate. Just strong dislike. I wonder what I ever saw in him. He's so insensitive, so sterile.” She leaned forward. “Deanna, when Bob made love to me ... we're talking ages ago, by the way ... he refused to do oral sex. Thought it was unsanitary, I guess. Yet, it was fine if I did it to him. The hypocrite!” She paused and then muttered, “I wonder if he goes down on Rebecca?"

  "Who's that?"

  Leigh grimaced. “His administrative aide. I believe they've been having an affair for the last year."

  Deanna shrugged. “That's typical. He's a leader of this great country, isn't he?” Then she grinned. “I take it there's no problem in the sexual department with Erik?"

  "Just one.” Leigh smiled. “We can't get enough of each other."

  Deanna laughed. “A problem like that, I can deal with.” She paused to take a sip of wine and then asked, “Why don't you leave Bob? It's obvious you don't love him anymore."

  "You're beginning to sound like Erik. Dee, I haven't loved Bob for years now. But what kind of woman would I be if I threw my marriage down the drain and went off to Norway with Erik? What about the kids? How can I tear their lives apart like that? Besides, it's not a bad life. I have my work, and the kids and...” Her voice trailed away.

  Deanna pushed her steak pie away and smiled bitterly. “And when you get lonely, there'll always be another young stud around to seduce, right?"

  "Is that how you think of me?” Leigh asked, hurt at her sharp words. “A middle-aged slut, right?"

  "No, Leigh, you're not a middle-aged slut. That term might describe me, but not you. I think you're trying to convince yourself you're having a casual affair with Erik. Okay, so maybe it is more than sex. Maybe it is a beautiful relationship. Still, you know it will end. Even though Erik has made it clear he wants it more permanent, you're determined to keep it a casual affair in your mind. Do you know what I think, Leigh? I think you're in love with him, too. And when he leaves, you're going to be crushed."

  "Okay. I love him.” Leigh pushed away her plate. “But I'm being realistic. Our age difference makes it impossible for us to share a life together. Besides, sooner or later, he'll tire of me. A younger woman will catch his eye and I'll be history."

  "Haven't you ever heard of living in the present? If that happens in the future, you'll deal with it. As far as the age difference is concerned, remember, Norway is a more liberal country than the U.S. Probably no one would bat an eye at it there. Leigh, you're in love with each other. Don't let him go back to Norway without you."

  Leigh stared at Deanna for a long moment. Then slowly, she shook her head. “No. It's impossible. A life with Erik is a fantasy. I have to stay here in the real world. Not for Bob, but for the kids. I can't run out on them."

  Deanna gazed at Leigh solemnly. “Okay. I can understand that, but remember one thing, Leigh. The kids won't be around forever.” She stabbed her cigarette butt into the ashtray and added, “And neither will Erik."

  Chapter 10

  The house at Rehoboth Beach never changed from one year to the next. Leigh stepped into the foyer and gazed up the narrow flight of stairs leading to the bedrooms on the second floor. The same old blue-flowered wallpaper stretched the length of the stairwell. Every year when she entered the house, she saw the wallpaper and vowed this year would be its last. Yet, she never got around to doing anything about it. This year would probably be no exception.

  She sighed and looked into the two downstairs bedrooms on her left. She'd decided that Erik and Mark could take those. To the right was the living room and combination dining room. The furnishings were simple, a wicker rocker, a casual sofa, a Shaker-inspired wood dinette set and woven rugs on the wedgewood blue painted floors. Overlooking the ocean, a huge screened-in porch led off from the living room.

  On the other end of the dining room, a step down led into the large country kitchen, a room Leigh didn't intend to spend much time in this summer. To the left of the kitchen there was a small bathroom that connected to one of the downstairs bedrooms.

  Leigh stood in the kitchen, gazing in dismay at all the unpacking to be done. The back door banged, and Aaron ran in with Ivan at his heels. The tow-headed boy grabbed a dart from the dart-board hanging on the utility closet door and took careful aim.

  "Mom, when are we going down to the beach?"

  "As soon as we get settled in.” Leigh began to unpack the groceries. “And no, you can't go down now. Go upstairs and start putting sheets on the beds. Where's Mel?"

  Aaron shrugged. “Probably up in her room, listening to records. Just like at home."

  Bob stepped into the kitchen, carrying two more bags of groceries. “What are you making for dinner, Leigh?"

  "Surprise! I'm not making anything,” she announced. “I thought we'd go out to that great seafood place in Dewey Beach. The one where I had the swordfish last summer."

  A frown crossed Bob's face. “I hope you're not planning on eating out all the time we're here."

  "I'm not planning on cooking all the time we're here. I'm on vacation, too. Remember?"

  Bob grumbled under his breath as he deposited the bags on the table. Amused, Leigh ignored him and continued with her work.

  Better get used to it, Bob. Your docile little wife is gone forever.

  * * * *

  Midnight had come and gone, and still, Leigh lay in bed, wide awake. A typical first night at the beach. Beside her, Bob snored contentedly. Leigh tried to convince her active brain she was exhausted, but it refused to cooperate. It didn't help that there was so much noise outside from partying college students at the house next door. A few minutes ago, someone had been blaring a trombone—someone with very little musical ability. It hadn't gone on long, thank God. Someone had had the good sense to take it away from the hapless musician, and, Leigh hoped, buried it where it wouldn't be unearthed for a couple of centuries.

  Still, she knew it wasn't just the noise outside that was keeping her awake. Her body was calling out for Erik. It had been over a month since they'd been together. Early in June, Bob had returned to Ohio for a few days, giving her the opportunity to visit Erik's room every night he was away. But since then, there hadn't been a chance for them to meet. It was starting to get to her. His phy
sical proximity was an excruciating torture. The expression in his eyes told her it was the same for him. Yet, what choice did they have? In spite of everything, Leigh was glad he was here and not in Norway.

  The harsh eruption of a motorcycle careening down the street forced Leigh to give up the pretense of sleeping. She threw back the light blanket and groped for her robe in the darkness of the bedroom. Quietly, she made her way down the carpeted stairs, thinking perhaps a glass of wine out on the porch would help relax her. A few minutes later, with a goblet in hand, she carefully opened the door to the porch and made her way to a lounge chair.

  "Where's mine?"

  She gasped, and wine spilled over her hand. “Erik. You startled me."

  He was sitting in her favorite chair. She placed the goblet down on a table between them. “You want some?"

  "Oh, yeah,” he said dryly.

  Leigh moved toward the door. He placed a restraining hand on her arm. At his touch, a delicious tingle swept through her body. “Nevermind. I'll share yours.” He released her arm and picked up the goblet from the table. She sat down, feeling his eyes upon her in the near darkness. “Cannot sleep? I'm having the same problem. What do you suppose can be wrong with us?"

  As Leigh's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make out his cynical grin. She took the goblet from him, shivering at the electric touch of his fingers against hers. “First night at the beach always gives me insomnia. It takes a while to get used to the noise.” She took a sip of wine.

  "Right. The noise.” Erik threw his head back against the lounge chair and closed his eyes. “Kristus! What am I doing here? I'm such a fool to have agreed to stay the summer with you."

  Leigh felt a rush of fear. Was he about to tell her he was leaving? She couldn't bear it right now; she wasn't ready to give him up. “Don't talk like that. At least we're together. There isn't an ocean separating us."

  "You call this being together?” Erik said, a bleak chill in his voice.

  Leigh was silent. What was there to say? She took another sip of wine, but it now tasted bitter. Silence stretched between them. Outside the screened porch, she was aware of the many sounds that filled the night ... the breakers pounding the shore, the melancholy cry of a whippoorwill. The night wind was alive, whispering through the long grass of the dunes nearby.