East of the Sun, West of the Moon

by Carole Bellacera

  "Do you think the entire family will come to watch me?” Mags asked.

  "You can count on it, Magpie.” Unconsciously, he'd slipped back to Mag's childhood nickname. “We'll be the proudest family in Norway!"

  "Even if I don't bring home a medal?"

  "Just participating in the Olympics will be enough.” Across the room, he saw Margit sit down next to Hakon and begin a conversation. “I'll let you in on a secret. I always dreamed of competing in the cross-country races, but of course, that's all it was. A dream. But you are going for yours. I admire that. It takes a lot of guts."

  "And stamina,” Mags grinned. “And training. And giving up sex. That's the toughest part."

  Playfully, Erik punched his rock-hard shoulder. “You shouldn't even be thinking about sex."

  "You're a good one to talk. After what I've heard about you."

  Erik laughed. “What have you heard?"

  "Only that you had something pretty hot going with that American woman ... Kayleigh ... was that her name?"

  Erik's smile froze. “Where did you hear that?"

  Mags looked at him closely. “Hey, Erik ... calm down. Bjorn mentioned it one night when he had a little too much to drink. It was just between the two of us."

  How did Bjorn know about Kayleigh?

  Erik swallowed his shock and said, “Well, Bjorn had it wrong. At least, his idea of it was wrong. I was in love with Kayleigh, Mags. There's a big difference there. I wanted to marry her."

  Mags’ blue eyes widened. “Christ, Erik, I'm sorry.” He glanced over at Margit. “Then, why..."

  Erik shook his head. “It's too complicated, Magpie. Just too fucking complicated."

  Hakon's laugh rang out in the room and Erik glanced over. Apparently, Mags wasn't the only one whose mind was on sex. Hakon was leering into Margit's face and one of his hands rested lightly on her knee. Erik was stunned to feel an emotion very similar to jealousy wash over him. Why? He didn't love Margit. Yet, she was still his wife.

  Margit laughed, pretending to be affronted by Hakon's actions. Deliberately, she removed his hand from her knee, saying, “Hakon Fenstad, you are an incurable flirt!"

  Flirting? Erik thought it wasn't quite that innocent. He recognized the look of lust on his brother-in-law's face. And he didn't like it one bit. It had only been two months ago that Erik had felt indifference at the thought of strangers approaching Margit on the Greek island. What had changed?

  Dordei moved over to him. “Would you like some cake, Erik?"

  His eyes remained fastened on Margit and Hakon. “Can't you do something about him, Dordei?"

  She followed his gaze. “What do you suggest?"

  "I suppose castration would be a bit much.” It was meant to be a joke, but his voice came out humorless.

  "You don't need to worry about Margit. She's totally captivated by you."

  "Is that so? Look at her!"

  Margit was laughing and wiping a cake crumb from the corner of Hakon's mouth.

  "And what is it with him?” Erik went on. “The way he's dressed! Doesn't he make enough money at that travel agency to afford a decent pair of jeans?"

  Dordei gave a wry laugh. “He purposely ripped the knees of his jeans so he could imitate the rock stars. I told him it was absurd, but of course, he never listens to me."

  Another peal of laughter rang out from Margit. Erik decided he'd had enough. “Excuse me, Dordei.” He got up and strode over to them. “What the hell happened to you, Hakon? Did you take a fall on the ice?” He squeezed onto the sofa next to his wife and placed his arm around her.

  "What are you talking about?” Hakon asked, blue eyes puzzled as he grudgingly moved over to the end of the sofa.

  "Your jeans. That must've been one hell of a fall."

  Hakon's face turned beet-red. “I didn't fall, Erik. Apparently, you don't know this happens to be the latest look. Rag-tag is in."

  Erik chuckled and caressed Margit's arm. “Christ! I feel hopelessly out of fashion, don't you, Margit? And sitting next to such a trendsetter."

  She giggled and hit his thigh. “Erik! Don't be rude!"

  But his jibe had hit the mark. Hakon stiffly excused himself and moved over to the bar to join his father-in-law in another glass of aquavit.

  "Now,” Erik said firmly. “Tell me what Hakon was saying that you found so amusing."

  Margit looked at him, blue eyes wide and innocent. “Why, Erik! Are you jealous of Hakon?"

  "Of course not. I'm just wondering what was so funny."

  But he spoke quickly and didn't meet her eyes.

  * * * *

  Leigh unlocked the door to her apartment and Knut followed her in, carrying a large pizza box. “Here. I'll take the pizza and you can start a fire,” she said, tossing her purse onto the sofa. “Damn! I missed.” The purse fell onto the floor, spilling its contents over the blue and beige oriental rug.

  Knut bent down to help. “See what you get when you starve yourself all day? You lose brain cells and it makes you uncoordinated."

  Leigh laughed. Knut had been teasing her all evening about not being able to get away from the gallery for lunch. “I'll take care of that mess later. Right now, I'll get some drinks so we can eat."

  Knut was already putting everything back in her bag. “I've got it. Say, what's this? You never told me that Leigh is a nickname."

  He was staring down at her checkbook.

  "Kayleigh. What a lovely name."

  The skin on her face tightened as if it were wet leather that had been left out in the Arizona sun for two days. She knew her voice was strained when she spoke. “I don't go by it. It's strictly my legal name."

  "Kayleigh,” he said softly, as if trying it out. “It suits you. May I...?"

  "No,” she said. “I prefer being called Leigh.” Then, realizing how cold she sounded, she smiled. “Hey, how about that fire?"

  She went into the kitchen to get the drinks, mentally kicking herself for her curtness. She hadn't meant to snap at him. It was just that she couldn't bear hearing another Norwegian voice saying her name. Or any voice, for that matter. No one else but her grandmother had ever called her by Kayleigh ... until Erik. And much as she liked Knut, she didn't want him to use the name Erik had made so special.

  She'd been seeing Knut for over two months. Every few days, he'd call up and they'd go out or he'd come over. She'd been to his apartment only once; it had been rather drab and messy, a striking contrast to his neat personality. Usually, they dined at one of Georgetown's many small tucked-away restaurants, then they'd take in a movie or sometimes a play at the Arena Stage or the Wooly Mammoth. Their tastes were really quite similar; they both enjoyed romantic dramas and light comedies. Sometimes, they went to the Kennedy Center to listen to the National Symphony Orchestra, but Leigh always found it a bittersweet experience. She couldn't help but think about the one special night she'd spent there with Erik.

  Despite her obsessive memories, Leigh found herself enjoying her evenings with Knut. He was so easy to talk to. Already, he knew most of her life story ... everything except the cause of the divorce. He believed it was the result of mutual dissatisfaction and Bob's obsession with work on the Hill.

  After they'd finished the pizza, Knut made himself comfortable on the sofa and lit his pipe. Leigh began to gather up the paper plates and glasses, but he patted the sofa cushion and said, “Come and relax. We can take care of that later.” He placed a casual arm around her shoulders and inhaled on his pipe. “I received a letter from Kristin today."

  "Oh, how is she?” Leigh asked. He was always delighted to hear from his daughter and eager to share the news.

  "She's doing okay. It seems Sigurd has taken a job at a hospital in Oslo. She's a registered nurse, you know. They'll be moving there in a couple of months. Kristin is rather sad about leaving her friends."

  Leigh caught the wistful note in his voice. “Every time you mention Kristin,” Or Sigurd, she thought wryly, “you sound a bit homesick. Do you
think you'll ever go back?"

  "I might. In a few years, perhaps. But right now, I have too much on my mind to think about returning to Norway.” He squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “You, for instance."

  "Oh, am I on your mind a lot?” Her tone was light and amused.

  He gazed at her, his expression serious. “You'll never know how much.” His hand tightened on her shoulder. He leaned toward her, his eyes on her mouth.

  Their first kiss was warm and gentle. Although she felt no real physical stirring, Leigh enjoyed it. After a moment, she pulled away and touched his right cheekbone. “You are such a lovely man,” she whispered.

  A wry smile came to his lips. “I'm not sure I take that as a compliment."

  "It is,” she said, and then placing her hands around his neck, she drew his head to hers for another kiss. This one, longer and more passionate. Leigh felt a flicker of desire. Knut pulled away, breathing heavily, his blue eyes stormy. Leigh smiled. She knew he wanted her. Had known it for weeks, but he'd never made a move. Now, she knew why. No doubt, it had been a long time since he'd been to bed with a woman. He was feeling shy.

  Leigh's hands moved down the front of his woolen sweater, pressing against the hard muscles of his chest. She knew he kept in good shape with racquetball two or three times a week, and jogging every morning. His thighs were built up by the Norwegian answer to bicycling: cross-country skiing. Whenever he could, he went to Canaan Valley in West Virginia for the sport. All in all, Knut Aabel was quite an attractive man. Her fingers toyed with the bottom edge of his sweater, and then she began to lift it.

  "What are you doing?” he asked huskily.

  "Don't you think it's too hot in here?"

  "A bit.” Quickly, he pulled the sweater over his head. Immediately, Leigh unbuttoned his shirt. She leaned toward him and nuzzled the hollow of his throat just above his T-shirt. “Ah ... Leigh...” he said huskily. “...we shouldn't be doing this ... right now. I mean ... I don't quite think this is the ... right time..."

  She pulled away and studied him. His eyes were closed and his expression belied his words. Besides, the thick bulge in the crotch of his gabardine slacks hadn't escaped her notice. “What's wrong with now?"

  He opened his eyes and slowly, his face reddened. “Why ... I don't know. We really haven't ... been seeing each other very long and ... ah ... well, I'm just thinking of you ... and ... ah...” His voice drained away, and he looked totally perplexed as if he had no idea what he was saying. Leigh stared at him, baffled.

  A knock came at the door. With an obvious look of relief, Knut began to button his shirt. Still puzzled, Leigh scrambled up from the sofa. Had she misunderstood him? she wondered. Maybe he didn't want more than friendship. Another horrible thought occurred to her. What if he were like Egan and Ward? Maybe friendship was all he wanted from any woman.

  As if her thoughts had conjured him, Leigh opened the door to see Ward standing in the corridor, grinning like a fat cat who'd sneaked into the whipping cream. “Hello, Leigh! Hope I'm not interrupting anything important. We were wondering if you could do a favor for Egan?” He turned to glance over his shoulder. “Egan! Come along!"

  "Sure, Ward. What does he need?"

  "Just a minute, dear. He'll be right here.” Another look behind him. “Egan! We're waiting!"

  Leigh looked over at Knut and sighed. He grinned back at her, his eyes twinkling. From the hallway, she heard the sound of an Irish accent singing an all too familiar song. “Oh, no...” she whispered.

  Egan marched into the room carrying a large decorated birthday cake lit with God knew how many candles. “Happy birthday, dear Leigh. Happy birthday to you!” As the last notes of the song died away, Knut threw his arm around Leigh's shoulder and kissed her cheek as Ward applauded happily.

  "Surprised, were you?” Knut whispered.

  She eyed him. “So, that's why you were so..."

  He laughed and looked at Ward. “It's a good thing you got here when you did. I almost had to tell her the truth. She wanted to go ... somewhere. In fact, she was being most insistent."

  Leigh nudged him sharply with her elbow and turned to the grinning Ward. “How did you know it was my birthday?"

  "Silly question. All your employment papers, of course. Oh, Egan, I left the champagne out in the hall. Would you mind getting it?"

  "But you didn't say a thing all day!” Leigh said.

  "Well, I talked it over with Knut last week, and we decided to surprise you. Oh, here's the champagne! Nicely chilled. How about some glasses so we can toast the birthday girl?"

  After they'd finished the toast, Leigh prepared to cut the cake. “Did you make this, Egan? It's too beautiful to cut."

  "I surely did. With me own two hands. It's chocolate. I heard from the grapevine it was your favorite."

  "Well, you heard right. God, so many candles!” She began to pull them out.

  "Only twenty."

  Leigh chuckled. “I wish.” Yet, this birthday didn't seem at all traumatic like last year's. Turning forty hadn't been pleasant; it had further reminded her of the disparity in age between herself and Erik.

  As they sat eating the cake, she looked around and marveled at what good people they were, and she felt grateful for their company. She hadn't heard from the kids today. Not one of them had called to wish her happy birthday. Work and Knut's presence had combined to make her forget about their insensitivity, but now she felt a little sad. She'd been so sure they were starting to get along better.

  After the remains of the cake were cleared away, Egan suggested they play a game of Trivial Pursuit. “Unless, of course, you two would be wanting to be alone?"

  Leigh and Knut looked at each other and burst out laughing. Ward and Egan stared as if they'd missed something. Finally, Leigh spoke, “Trivial Pursuit sounds great—even if you two have a monopoly on winning."

  Egan stood up. “I'll go up and get the game."

  But just as he reached the door, there was a knock. “Oh, wonderful! There'll be more of us to play. Oh, who might you be?"

  In the living room, Leigh heard a voice that made the hair rise on her arms. “I'm Leigh's ex-husband. And who are you?” She exchanged a worried glance with Knut and stood.

  Bob walked into the living room. His eyes swept casually over Ward and Knut and then around the elegant room. “Nice place,” he said. “You've certainly come up in the world, Leigh. Who're your friends?"

  She introduced everyone in a stiffly controlled voice. Bob made no move to shake their hands. An uncomfortable silence fell, then Egan spoke, “Ward, I'm thinking maybe we should get going. Leigh, happy birthday."

  Leigh kissed Egan on the cheek. “Thanks for the cake. It was so sweet of you."

  Ward stood up and hugged Leigh. “Happy birthday, darling. I'll see you at work early Monday morning."

  Leigh walked them to the door and returned to the living room to find Bob and Knut eyeing each other. She wondered if they'd exchanged any conversation while she was gone.

  "Leigh, I need to talk to you,” Bob said. Pointedly, he glanced at Knut. “Privately."

  Knut didn't move. One eyebrow rose as he looked at Leigh. “Do you want me to go, Leigh?"

  An odd expression flashed across Bob's face as his eyes zeroed in on Knut. “Where are you from?"

  Knut's lips quirked in an ironic smile. “I live here in Georgetown. But I'm a Norwegian citizen."

  Bob glared at Leigh. “Oh, did she bring you home with her?"

  With typical Nordic composure, Knut ignored the rude question. “Leigh? Shall I stay?"

  "I think maybe you should go,” she said. “I'll walk you to the door.” Knut's presence would only exacerbate Bob's obviously foul mood.

  But he was obviously hesitant to leave. At the door, he searched her face, his eyes clearly worried. “Are you certain you'll be okay with him?"

  She nodded. “Don't worry about me. I can handle Bob.” She leaned against him and planted a kiss on his lips. “I'm sorry a
bout this. I was looking forward to spending some time alone with you."

  "Me, too. Oh, and Leigh? Just so you know. I wasn't at all unenthusiastic this evening ... you know, before Ward came to the door. I don't want you to think I didn't want to..."

  "I know.” She kissed him again. “We're going hiking tomorrow, right?"

  "Right. Oh, here.” He pressed a small wrapped box into her hands. “I was waiting to give it to you when we were alone. You can open it later."

  "I'll open it now,” Leigh said. “Let him wait.” She drew off the wrapping paper and opened the hinged box. “Oh, Knut!” It was a necklace she'd admired in a jewelry store window, a gold dolphin with a diamond chip eye. She gave him a radiant smile. “I love it! Will you put it on for me?"

  His fingers were warm against her neck as he fastened the delicate chain. He bent down and kissed her just above where it rested against her skin. “I should go. That is, if you're sure?” His apprehensive eyes moved toward the living room.

  With a gentle push, she said, “Go! I'll be fine.” She touched the necklace. “And thank you, Knut.” With a final kiss, he went out the door. Leigh's tender smile disappeared as she closed the door behind him.

  Bob had poured himself a glass of chilled champagne and was ensconced in an easy chair, appearing perfectly at ease. He looked up and grinned sardonically. “Well, I was beginning to think you'd left, too.” He looked around at the living room. “So. You're doing pretty well. Nice place in Georgetown. Good job. Three boyfriends. Not bad at all."

  "Ward and Egan are not my boyfriends. As a matter-of-fact, they aren't at all interested in me like that."

  "Oh, but the Norwegian is, right? What is it with you and Norwegians? Do they hold some special power over you?” He drained his glass. “Or are they just good in bed?"

  Leigh sat down on the sofa and tried to control her anger. “What is it you wanted to see me about?"

  A speculative look appeared in his eyes. He got up from the chair and moved to the sofa. “It's your birthday, isn't it? I wanted to let you know I hadn't forgotten."