East of the Sun, West of the Moon

by Carole Bellacera

  Leigh sat quietly, instinctively knowing what her friend was getting at. Deanna looked straight into her eyes. “Leigh, if you love him, go to Norway. You'll never forgive yourself for barring him from your life. I know about the letters. You always cry when you read one. It's obvious he's in love with you. Why don't you give yourself a wonderful Christmas present and go to Norway to be with Erik?"

  Leigh felt a wave of panic wash over her. “But what if I go there, and it doesn't work out? What if he's changed? Or me? What if I go to Norway and find out it wasn't love at all?"

  "At least you won't always be wondering what might have been. And what the hell? You'll have a nice Christmas holiday in Scandinavia. I wish I could go with you."

  Leigh chewed her bottom lip. “What about the kids? I mean ... if things work out with Erik. How can I live in another country and never see my kids?"

  "You don't have to make any major decisions now, Leigh. Just go to Norway for a few weeks. See what happens. Who knows? Maybe Erik will come back to the states with you. Besides ... your kids aren't going to be young forever. They'll grow up and move away. Start their own families. Should you sacrifice your chance at happiness just so you're within a few hours’ drive from kids who ... face it ... aren't even talking to you!"

  Leigh shook her head. “I don't know. Bob tells me I'm an awful mother. And if I go to Norway, maybe I am. Anyway, how can I leave you? What about your surgery?"

  "It's scheduled for Monday morning. I'll be fine by Tuesday and you can leave on Wednesday. That will give you enough time to get your shit together, telegraph Erik and tell him you're coming.” Deanna leaned forward and clutched Leigh's hand. “Leigh, this is not rocket science! Just go to Norway. See Erik. See how things are between you. That's all I'm suggesting. Hon, if you go to Norway, that will be the best Christmas present you could give me.” Her lips quirked in a tremulous smile, and she added ironically, “Unless of course, you're giving out nice plump breasts this year."

  "Dee! How can you joke like that?” Deanna's attempt at humor struck tiny darts of pain into Leigh's heart. It was somehow more pitiful than her tears.

  Deanna's face grew hard with determination. “Shit! What else can I do? Cry some more? I can tell you right now, Leigh Fallon, that was the first and last time you'll ever see Deanna Harper cry. I just hope those suckers get all the fucking cancer out. If they don't, I'm going to sue their asses off and then I'll will all my millions to you, so you and Erik can have homes all over the world.” She squeezed her hand. “Thanks, sweetie, for letting me get this off my chest. Ha! I just can't stop making puns, can I?” Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Now, why don't you get the hell out of here and go call SAS. It's not going to be easy to book a flight for anywhere this time of year."

  Leigh got up and went to Deanna. She leaned down and hugged her tightly. From the living room, she could hear the roar of laughter coming from the TV, and then the familiar rumble of David Letterman's flat mid-western accent. She didn't think she'd ever be able to watch him again without thinking of Deanna.

  Chapter 14

  "Velkommen til Norsk! I am ecstatic. E."

  Again, Leigh read the telegram. It was worn and tattered from the constant perusal she'd subjected it to since receiving it three days ago. She'd been half-afraid he'd be lukewarm about her arrival, but the telegram had put her mind at rest. Glancing out the window of the 747, she could see only darkness, but from her calculations, she guessed Oslo was about an hour away. At the thought of actually coming face to face with Erik again, she felt a flutter of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Was she being foolish, racing half-way around the world to be with a man thirteen years younger?

  Deanna had come through her surgery in excellent condition. The night before, her daughter had arrived from Switzerland to be with her. As far as the cancer was concerned, her prognosis was good. The surgeons were confident they'd removed the malignancies, but Deanna would have to undergo a round of chemo with a radiation followup. She'd been alert and upbeat when Leigh saw her before leaving, joking about finding a Dolly Parton wig to compensate for her “lack of boobies.” What a courageous woman she was. Leigh had never admired her friend more. She could only hope she could be so brave if anything that horrible ever happened to her.

  A flight attendant moved toward her down the aisle and Leigh stopped her to ask for a drink, hoping it would relax her keyed-up nerves. After she passed on, a well-dressed man with thinning light brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses smiled warmly at Leigh from across the aisle.

  "Do you have relatives in Norway?” he asked with an accent that immediately brought Erik to mind.

  "No.” Leigh smiled back. “I'm visiting a friend."

  "Oh.” The man looked interested. “I thought you might have Norwegian blood. Because of your fair skin and blonde hair, I just assumed you were visiting your homeland."

  "If I were, I'd be on my way to Ireland,” Leigh said, enjoying his warm open manner.

  "Aha. Then you may have Norwegian blood, after all. The Vikings invaded Ireland, you know, and I'm sure there were quite a few that found themselves enchanted by a beautiful Irish girl and settled there.” He thrust out a well-shaped manicured hand. “I'm Knut Aabel. I work for the Norwegian Embassy in Washington D.C."

  Leigh leaned over and shook his hand. “I'm Leigh Fallon. I used to live in the Washington area, but I recently moved to New York. So, you're going home to Norway for Christmas?"

  Knut smiled and Leigh was amazed at how it transformed his rather ordinary face. He was really quite attractive. “Yes, I'm going home to Tromso. It's up north. After we arrive in Oslo, I'll have another hour's flight to go."

  "Oh, you're from the ‘land of the midnight sun.’”

  He smiled, his blue eyes amused. “Ja, but right now, we are in the period of darkness."

  "Of course. It's winter,” Leigh said. “I've often wondered what that must be like ... living in total darkness."

  The flight attendant arrived with her drink. She took a sip, hoping the man would keep talking. It would make the time go by faster.

  Knut winked at her. “Well, except for the high suicide rate, it's no problem. Seriously, though, I would think one who wasn't used to it would find it maddening. But I rather missed it in America. I'm afraid I still suffer from homesickness.” He smiled again, adding, “I can hardly wait to see my daughter, Kristin. She will be fifteen next week."

  "My daughter is sixteen,” Leigh said softly. She felt a pang in her heart as she thought of Melissa and their last meeting.

  Knut's blue eyes widened behind his glasses. “You're joking. You don't look old enough to be the mother of a sixteen-year-old."

  "Thank you.” Leigh wondered what he'd say if she told him she had a son who was twenty. Casually, she glanced at him. Where was his wife, the mother of his teenage daughter?

  It wasn't long before she found out. He told her he'd been a professor of literature at the University of Tromso before he went to America. A discussion of Henrik Ibsen and O.E. Rolvaag followed. After a while, the conversation shifted to his personal life. Leigh noticed he became more gregarious with each tiny glass of aquavit he consumed. She'd never tried the Norwegian “fire water” made from distilled potatoes and caraway seeds, but Erik had told her about it, and she was sure she would sample it at some point during her stay in Norway. Watching Knut's grimace after he'd tossed the contents of the shot glass down his throat, Leigh wasn't sure she wanted to try it. Knut followed the shot of aquavit with a quick sip of beer, then began to tell her about his ex-wife.

  "Sigurd just couldn't get used to America. I should say she refused to let herself get used to it. She just wasn't happy there. I, on the other hand, loved it. It was so adventurous, so challenging. But Sigurd wanted to come home. After two years, she took Kristin and returned to Tromso. As soon as she got home, she filed for divorce."

  "Sounds like Beret in Rolvaag's Giants in the Earth."

  "That's it.” Knut gestured with hi
s beer glass. “Ja! She was just like Beret. Always finding fault with everything. Not allowing herself to see the good side of life in America. But at least she won't drive me to my death like Beret did to poor Per Hansa.” His friendly blue eyes roved over her and stopped on her left hand where her wedding ring was conspicuously absent. “And you? You're not married?"

  "Not anymore,” Leigh said. “Divorced."

  "And what brings you to Norway? Just a holiday? Oh, but you said you were visiting a friend. A man, of course."

  Leigh felt a blush creep up from her neck.

  "Ja, I thought so."

  At that moment, their discussion was interrupted by an announcement from the pilot that they would soon be making their descent into Oslo. Knut reached into his coat and pulled out a small white card.

  "I'll be getting back to Washington on the fourth of January. Perhaps if you ever come down, we can meet for coffee. I have to tell you it's been very pleasant talking to you."

  "Thank you. I've enjoyed it, too.” She took his business card and tucked it into the side pocket of her purse, then checked her seat belt to make sure it was secure. Very soon now, she would be seeing Erik again. A quiver ran through her body at the thought. How different would he be here on his home ground? Her mind darted to the night ahead. She was sure they would be staying at his apartment near the university. What would it be like to make love without the fear of discovery? Five months had passed since the afternoon they'd last made love before that final explosive argument. Her body quivered in anticipation as she thought about his touch. Soon, now. Very soon.

  She glanced out the window two seats away. There was nothing to see, just darkness. Her hands gripped the armrests of her seat as the huge jet descended. Knut looked over and smiled reassuringly.

  "I'm not crazy about landings myself. That is why I drink so much aquavit."

  "Maybe I should have tried some,” Leigh said with a nervous grin. But her anxiety had nothing to do with the landing of the aircraft.

  They landed at Oslo's Fornebu Airport with a gentle bump and taxied toward the terminal. It wouldn't be long now before she would be with Erik.

  With a friendly smile, Knut wished her a happy holiday and headed for the customs line for Norwegian nationals. Leigh was grateful to find the Norwegian customs officials courteous and efficient, and in a mere fifteen minutes, she was through. She entered the giant terminal lounge, her heart bumping. Anxiously, she glanced around, searching for Erik's tall, blond form. How she needed the comfort of his warm blue eyes upon her at this very moment. But she didn't see him anywhere.

  She dropped her carry-on bag at her feet and stood there uncertainly, wondering if she should wait or go for her luggage. From the intercom, a female voice announced in Norwegian a departing flight for Copenhagen and a moment later, it was repeated in English. She thought how similar her accent was to Erik's and then, through the crowd, she saw him.

  He hadn't caught sight of her yet; his eyes still searched the crowd. Her heart drummed at the sight of him. He wore the same fur-lined flight jacket he'd worn last Christmas in their climatic walk by the lake, and in his blond hair, tiny crystals of ice glittered like diamonds under the lights of the huge terminal. Leigh grabbed her carry-on bag and made her way toward him.

  His eyes fell upon her. An expression of thankful relief swept over his face as he lunged for her.

  "Kristus!” His arms wrapped around her in a bone-clenching grasp. “I thought you'd changed your mind."

  Leigh dropped her bag. Her hands slid into his opened coat as she hugged him, her face nestling against the scratchy warmth of his wool sweater. How good it felt to be here with him. She knew she'd made the right decision.

  He drew away slightly so he could lift her chin and gaze into her eyes. “Kayleigh,” he whispered. “I can't believe you are really here."

  "I can't believe it either,” she said shakily. Her fingers hesitantly touched his blond stubble.

  "Sorry,” he murmured. “I forgot to shave. All I could think about was your arrival. Kayleigh...” He gave a soft groan, holding her against him as if afraid she'd disappear. Slowly, his mouth closed upon hers. The holiday crowd, along with the bright lights and noise, slipped away. Leigh was lost in the fantasy world where Erik's kisses had always taken her, the world where nothing mattered but the present.

  * * * *

  In Erik's small but neat flat, Leigh stood at a wood-paned window, gazing out onto a quiet side street near the University of Oslo. Huge snowflakes fell furiously from the dark sky, but disappeared almost immediately on contact with the pavement and sidewalks. Behind her, she heard Erik's rustling movements as he built a fire in the brick hearth on the other side of the room.

  She turned away from the window and glanced around his flat again. It was so like Erik. The furniture was scant and functional, clearly Scandinavian in design. The walls were paneled in a warm pine, reminding her of a mountain chalet in Colorado where she and Bob had once spent a week. In the corner of the room there was a day bed that also served as a sofa and opposite that, near a tiny kitchenette, stood a small dining table and two chairs. The largest piece of furniture in the room was a six-foot bookcase lined with books ranging from Norwegian translations of American best-sellers to classics from all over the world, and of course, psychology textbooks. But her eyes widened when she saw the thin red binding of a familiar book, one she knew only too well.

  "Erik! When did you get this book?” Her voice sounded unnaturally loud in the small room.

  He looked up from stoking the fire, grinning. “I received it only a few weeks ago. I had a friend at G.M.U. get it for me. Believe me, it wasn't easy trying to explain why I wanted a teenage romance sent to me."

  Leigh looked down at the illustration on the cover of the Deanna Harper novel. She'd still been enmeshed in the first magic of their love affair when she'd sketched the cover design. Unbelievable that Erik had gone to the trouble of getting a copy! Smiling, she gazed at the young couple on the cover. She hadn't realized before how much the football player resembled Erik. Had he noticed?

  He stood up and wiped his hands down the front of his jeans. “I haven't read it,” he said as he moved toward her. “But looking at the illustrations brought you closer to me."

  A vague nervousness swept over Leigh. She turned away to gaze out the window again, feeling his approach. Suddenly she found it difficult to breathe. His firm hands clamped down on her shoulders; she could feel his chest rising and falling against her back. How she wished she could relax and lean against him, giving herself up to him, but the strange tension that gripped her body wouldn't let go.

  "Doesn't it seem appropriate that it's snowing?” Erik said softly, dropping his head so his lips could just brush the tender spot below her earlobe.

  Leigh shivered, not sure if it was from desire or fear.

  "Englebarn ... what is it?” he asked.

  "I don't know,” Leigh whispered. “I think I'm scared."

  "Of me?” His voice was amused.

  Leigh watched the falling snow, mesmerized by its beauty. “Of us. Of the situation."

  Gently, Erik turned her to face him. The look in his blue eyes was so endearingly familiar Leigh felt her anxiety melt away. “You're wondering if you made the right decision in coming here? I can't tell you if you did or not. All I know is I am very, very glad you came.” His sensitive fingers traced the Vee-neckline of her pink lambs-wool sweater, his eyes devouring her.

  "My sexy Kayleigh,” he said huskily. “It's been so long. Do you feel how much I want you?"

  She smiled up at him, touching his lips lightly with her fingertips. “Convince me."

  * * * *

  The tram hissed to a stop and Erik stood up, pulling Leigh with him. “Here we are. Kirkeveien. There's the entrance to Frognerparken over there."

  They stepped down from the tram and Leigh tugged at the collar of her dark gray wool coat, futilely trying to find protection from the kniving wind. Erik turned to
her and pulled the heavy collar closer around her neck and then, as an added measure, drew her wool cap down another inch over her ears.

  He shook his head. “You're dressed for the American winter, not ours. We'll have to do something about that.” Quickly, he unwound a scarlet woolen scarf from his neck and wrapped it around hers. “That will have to do for now."

  "But Erik!” Leigh protested. “I don't want you to freeze."

  "Freeze?” Erik laughed. “Kjareste, this is what we Norwegians call a mild December.” He pulled up the fur-lined hood of his flight jacket. “Come. Let's go see Vigeland's sculptures."

  The gates of Frogner Park loomed before them, a formidable structure made from wrought-iron and twisted into strange geometric shapes. An ugly reptilian figure glared down from the center of the entrance as if holding a ferocious guard over the treasured works of art by Gustav Vigeland.

  Doubtfully, Leigh eyed the strange creation of the famous Norwegian sculptor, hoping the entire park wouldn't be devoted to such monstrosities. But her mind was immediately put to rest as they approached a 300-foot bridge peopled by groups of bronze figures involved in every day activities. Running, jumping, laughing ... the life-like statues appeared to be squeezing every precious drop out of life. Leigh was astounded by the realistic expressions. It was almost as if they'd been frozen in time, as if a sorcerer had waved his magic wand and real live people had suddenly turned to bronze. Amazed, she walked from one figure to another, delighting in every new and immediately recognizable expression of human emotion. Erik followed behind her, watching her face and sensing her profound awe.