East of the Sun, West of the Moon

by Carole Bellacera

  "Do you think they'll ever stop partying?” Leigh murmured and turned onto her stomach.

  Knut lay on his back, hands folded beneath his head. He stared up at the dancing pattern of leafy tree branches illuminated on the ceiling by street-lamps. “Eventually."

  Leigh groaned and buried her face in the pillow. She'd been so sleepy after they'd made love, but just as she'd drifted off, there had been a loud crack outside the bedroom window and all thought of sleep had vanished.

  Knut turned on his side and gazed at her. “Can't sleep?"

  Leigh laughed into her pillow. “Knut, you are the most astute man I've ever met."

  He grinned and slid a hand onto her shoulder. “I do have my good qualities, don't I?” He was silent for a moment. Then, “Leigh, tonight at the concert, you were so quiet. Rather distant, I thought. Was it something I did?"

  Leigh turned over to face him. “No, of course not. I just have some things on my mind."

  "Anything I can help you with?"

  With a finger, she traced the line of his jaw. He was such a good man. Too bad she didn't deserve him. “Not really. It's just the kids. I have to work it out myself."

  How easily the lies came to her lips. And she hated herself for it. But how could she tell him that Erik had been on her mind as they'd sat on the Capitol lawn listening to the National Symphony Orchestra. And when the fireworks had exploded behind the Washington Monument, how could she say she'd been reliving last year's Fourth when he'd been there on the mall with her and her family?

  Since Leigh had begun the relationship with Knut, Erik had faded to a dim memory. But tonight, he'd returned in startling clarity. And with it, melancholy. She'd thought she was over him, finally. But now she knew that wasn't true, and she wondered if she ever would be.

  What was he doing now? Was he happy with Margit? At least she loved him. That was one small piece of comfort to her. She wouldn't be lying in bed next to him thinking of another man. Leigh didn't want to do that to Knut, but it was impossible to control her thoughts ... and the aching emptiness she still felt inside.

  There was a rustle of movement at her side. “Perhaps since we can't sleep, we should get up and have a drink."

  "I have a better idea.” Leigh slid over and clutched him to her. Knut deserved more than she was giving him. If she tried harder, she could push Erik out of her mind. She began to nuzzle the hollow of his throat.

  He chuckled and ran a hand over the smooth skin of her back. “Kristus, Leigh, I'm not Superman, you know."

  "I think you're pretty super,” she murmured, kissing his chest. “I don't want you to do anything. Just lie back and let me take care of you.” In one swift movement, she rolled over on top of him and began sliding down his body, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind her.

  "Temptress,” he said huskily, closing his eyes.

  Suddenly the phone at the bedside shrilled. Leigh stiffened and then scrambled over to her side of the bed. Unless it was a wrong number, a phone call this late meant trouble.

  "Hello?” Her heart lurched as she recognized Bob's voice.

  "Leigh, can you get over to the house right away? It's Melissa."

  "What's happened?"

  His voice hardened. “Are you coming over or not? I need you."

  "If this is some kind of trick, Bob..."

  "Damn it, Leigh. She came home hysterical a while ago and now she's locked herself into her room. Won't talk to anyone. Maybe you can do something."

  "Okay. I'll be right over.” She hung up the phone and looked at Knut. “There's something wrong with Melissa. I'm going over there."

  Knut threw back the comforter. “I'll come with you."

  "You don't have to."

  But he was already pulling on his pants. His face wore a determined look. “After what he did to you, I'm not about to let you go over there without me."

  * * * *

  Bob's face was haggard when he opened the door, but as soon as he saw Knut standing behind her, it became hostile.

  "What's he doing here?"

  "Guarding me from you.” Leigh brushed past him and into the house. “She's still in her room?"

  "Yeah."

  Leigh ran up the stairs. There was no response when she knocked on Melissa's door. “Melissa, please. Let me in. I just want to talk."

  After a long silence, she heard Melissa's voice. It was muffled as if she'd buried her face deep into a pillow. “Go away."

  "I won't do that, so you might as well let me in."

  It was silent in the room but Leigh knew her daughter was listening. She went on, “Mel, I don't know what happened tonight. But I do know everything is much worse if you keep it inside.” Leigh sank down on the carpeted hallway in front of her door. “You know that day in Rehoboth? When it all came out about Erik and me? I thought my heart was breaking, especially when I saw your face. I'll never forget how betrayed you looked. It was the worst day of my life, and until then, I didn't know what pain was. Is that how you feel now? Like it hurts so badly you can't breathe?"

  She waited. And finally, she heard it. A small voice. “Yes."

  "But that day, Mel, I wasn't alone. I had someone to share the pain with me. And I know you don't want to hear this, but if Erik hadn't been there, I don't know what I would've done. Do you understand what I'm saying? While the pain is bad, it's so much worse when you have to bear it alone.” There was no movement inside the room. Only silence. “Mel?” Leigh slumped against the door. It wasn't working. What else could she say?

  There was a soft click and Leigh moved away from the door. Slowly, it opened. Leigh stood up and stared at her daughter. Mel's blond hair hung wet and stringy around her mascara-stained face. Her blue eyes wore a haunted look. She turned and threw herself back onto her bed. Leigh stepped into the room and carefully sat down beside her.

  "Are you ready to talk about what happened?"

  Melissa had turned her face away. “I don't think you're going to understand."

  "I'll try."

  A long sigh escaped her lips and finally, she turned onto her back. “I feel ... really dirty."

  Leigh met her daughter's eyes steadily. She'd been afraid it was going to be something like this, and in her mind, she'd already prepared a speech. “Mel, we all make mistakes. But half the battle is learning from them before it's too late."

  Melissa shook her head. “You don't understand. It's already too late, Mom. I thought I knew what I was doing.” The tears welled in her eyes again. “I was so stupid."

  Leigh gathered Melissa into her arms and allowed her to cry. “Baby, it's going to be okay,” she said, stroking her damp hair.

  After a few moments, Melissa's sobbing softened. Finally, she pulled away. She stared down at the geometric pattern on her bedspread and traced it with a fingernail.

  "I went out with Larry Noyle tonight,” she said. “We were making out in the back seat of his car ... and ... he ... tried to...” She looked up at Leigh, her eyes wild. “Mom, I told him I didn't want to do it, but he wouldn't listen. He just...” She shook her head. “He ... tried to..."

  Leigh blinked, feeling the blood draining from her face. “Oh, my God! Melissa, did he ... rape you?"

  She shook her head wildly, fresh tears streaming down her face. “I bit him. Bit him hard and he let me go. But it was so scary, Mom. He ripped my blouse. And tried to ... tried to...” She closed her eyes, shuddering. “I got out of the car and ran. I found a Seven-Eleven and called Andrea to come pick me up.” She collapsed against her pillow sobbing. “I can't go back to school. If I see him, I'm going tobe sick."

  Leigh's mind spun. She remembered Mel's derisive voice on the night she'd found her box of condoms. I do every fine-looking guy who wants me. “Honey...” She stroked her tangled blond hair. “You're telling me the truth? He really didn't rape you?"

  She shook her head, still hiding her face against the pillow. “He would've, though. I'd never been out with a guy like that. He was different from all the o
thers. He wasn't going to take no for an answer."

  Leigh bit her lip, hesitating before taking the plunge. “Melissa, what about those other guys? If you didn't want anything to happen with this one, why were you making out with him in the back seat?” When she didn't answer, Leigh went on. “Your school isn't that big. Don't you think word might have gotten around ... about the other guys?"

  Melissa looked up at her mother, her face white. “There were no other guys, Mom."

  Leigh stared at her blankly. “What are you talking about? There was that Billy-Idol character, and God knows how many others. You told me yourself."

  "I lied,” she said softly. “I wanted to get back at you ... for leaving us. For breaking up with Dad. I thought you'd blame yourself for my sleeping around. I guess I just wanted to hurt you, like you hurt me when you went off with Erik."

  "Jesus, Melissa,” Leigh said, close to tears herself. “You didn't hurt me nearly as much as you hurt yourself."

  A preemptive knock came at Melissa's door. Still in shock, Leigh stood up and opened it. She found herself face-to-face with Mark. It was the first time she'd seen her eldest son since the day she'd returned from Norway. His brooding face didn't change expression when he saw her; he simply pushed past her and went to his sister.

  He bent over her prostrate body. “Mellie, are you okay?"

  Her eyes focused on him, then decisively, she turned on her side away from him. Mark stared at her a moment, then straightened and turned to his mother, eyes accusing. “What the hell are you doing here? You'll just make things worse."

  Helplessly, Leigh gazed back. Twenty-one years ago, she'd given birth to this sardonically handsome young man, but at the moment, she felt as if she were looking at a complete stranger. They'd been so close a year ago. Not a day had gone by without some kind of affectionate exchange between them. But that had all changed. Now, he looked at her with revulsion, and it was almost more than Leigh could bear. His hatred was tangible, like a poisonous reptile writhing between them.

  When she spoke, her voice was tentative, and she hated herself for her meekness. “I came here to help."

  "The only way you can help her is to stay out of her life,” Mark said coldly. “She doesn't need you. None of us do. Why don't you just go back to Norway and leave us alone."

  Like a flash, Melissa sprang up on the bed. “Stop it, Mark. Don't talk to her like that.” Her tear-streaked face wore a desperate look. “Maybe you don't need her, but I do, okay?"

  Mark stared at her silently.

  In a softer tone, she went on, “Don't you think it's time we all tried to put our lives back together? Mark, no matter what she's done ... she's still our mother, isn't she?"

  Mark didn't answer. His eyes slid from Melissa to Leigh, then slowly, he turned and walked out of the room. Leigh's breath escaped her lungs in a soft sigh. She hadn't realized she was holding it.

  "I'm sorry, Mom,” Melissa said. “Mark and I have really been rotten to you. I haven't liked myself much since all that happened last summer. I guess I haven't been very grown up about it.” She slid off the bed and moved over to her dressing table where she started rearranging her array of perfume bottles. “I tried to put myself in your place. You know, about the way you felt about Erik. But I just couldn't imagine being you ... and not loving Dad anymore.” She looked up at her mother. “I know he's probably not very romantic ... and sometimes, he didn't treat you very nice. But you loved him once, didn't you? And I guess I just don't understand how you could just stop loving him."

  Because he stopped loving me first, perhaps? But she couldn't tell her daughter that. “I don't understand it myself,” she said quietly.

  Melissa picked up a perfume bottle and stared intently at the label. “I'm not ever going to get married...” Her voice was very soft. “Men are scum."

  "Oh, Melissa...” Leigh took her daughter into her arms. Melissa began to weep softly, and Leigh could only rock the girl in her arms as her own tears streamed down her face.

  Chapter 28

  The door to the chalet opened and Margit joined Erik on the deck overlooking the Norwegian Sea.

  "Finally!” She plopped down into a lounge chair, drawing her sweater closer around her. “He's asleep. I thought he'd never go down."

  Erik chuckled. “He's not used to sunshine around the clock."

  It was eleven-fifteen p.m., yet the midnight sun hovered just above the darkened silhouette of the mountainous islands off the coast, casting a golden-reddish light over the sea. In another forty-five minutes, it would nearly disappear behind the islands, but its glow would not. After only a few minutes of enchanted twilight, the sun would rise again to shine high in the sky for another day. From the middle of May through the end of July, the scenario would be repeated, until finally, night would come to Northern Norway once again.

  Erik loved Hammerfest, the northernmost city in the world. Although it had all the conveniences of modern living, it seemed almost untouched by human hands. Despite the usual tourist traps, hotels and restaurants, the city in Finnmark had never lost its wild beauty and old world charm. Here, Erik felt as if he were at the top of the world, which he was, literally. Only a few miles up the coast was North Cape, a barren promontory that dropped 307 vertical meters into the Arctic Ocean—land's end.

  Erik was glad Margit had talked him into spending a week here. They'd dipped into her savings and booked the trip to Hammerfest on June 22nd, arriving just in time for the Midsummer Night festivities on the 23rd. All across Norway, the traditional bonfires had been lighted. Legend held that the flames warded off the trolls and witches who congregated on the cliffs to dance and feast on this shortest night of the year. For children, it was a night of scary stories and magic; for adults, it was a night for love. Thirteen years ago on Midsummer Night, Erik had lost his virginity to a pretty nineteen-year-old backpacker from Australia, and from that year on, the holiday always made him amorous.

  As Margit settled beside him on the deck, he reached over and squeezed her hand. Bonfires still flickered over the countryside and would continue to burn throughout the short night. Gunny had enjoyed himself that evening at the celebration in the village, in spite of, or perhaps because of the hair-raising stories that had kept him awake until a few minutes ago. Erik supposed parents all over Norway were having trouble getting their little ones to sleep tonight.

  Margit looked over at him. “You know what I was just thinking about?"

  "What?"

  "That other Midsummer Night we spent here. Remember? It was the first year I was married to Gunvor. You brought some girl up with you. I can't remember her name..."

  "I do. Ingrid Jakobsen. Cute little blonde."

  Margit threw him a sharp look. “You certainly have a good memory! All I remember about her is that she was always polishing her nails.” She gazed out toward the sun-kissed sea. “We had a good time, didn't we? Who would've thought back then you and I would be here now ... a couple."

  "Yeah. Life is strange, isn't it?"

  "Erik?” Margit's voice was soft. “What do you think you'd be doing now if we hadn't been married?"

  A vision of Kayleigh flashed briefly across his mind. Resolutely, he pushed it away. “I've never really thought about it."

  "Have you ever regretted doing it?” she asked.

  There was a long silence before he answered. Then, “I try never to regret anything. There's no point to it.” Abruptly, he stood up and pulled her to her feet. “I'm happy with you, Margit. You can be sure of that.” His hands tugged on the lapels of her knit cardigan. He pulled her to him for a kiss, then kept an arm around her as he guided her to the door of the chalet. “Let's go to bed."

  * * * *

  Through half-closed eyes, Margit watched Erik undress. She lay naked under the summer covers. The rising sun cast a golden light into the room, bathing Erik's bare chest in its glow. Finally, nude, he stood before her. In one swift movement, he drew back the covers and slid into bed. Margit reached o
ut to draw his body to hers. Without speaking, he kissed her, his tongue exploring the inner contours of her mouth. Lightly, she ran her fingers through the golden hairs on his chest. He dragged his mouth away from hers and murmured her name. Slowly, he slid down her firm body until his lips were even with her pert breasts. His tongue circled her nipple. She shuddered.

  "How do you do this to me?” he whispered. “I never thought I could ever feel this way about you...” His penis was stiff against her thigh. He moved his lips down her flat stomach. Tiny delicious kisses. Soft animal sounds came from her throat. Her thighs parted, an open invitation to his sensitive mouth and tongue.

  A moment later, Margit moved spasmodically and cried out in a frenzy of desire, “Erik! Please..."

  "Now?” he asked. He entered her slowly. Her fingernails dug into the tender skin of his back. He closed his eyes and began to move. Peak after peak, they climbed, upward from one plane of sensation to another. Until finally, they reached the summit together.

  When the storm was over, Margit opened her eyes and gazed into Erik's. They were warm and blue, and filled with such deep tenderness it was almost a physical pain for her to look at him. He grimaced with a last shudder of orgasmic pleasure and then slowly withdrew. Rolling over on his side, he pulled her to him and slid a hand down her slender back.

  "Darling ... that was the best ever."

  She smiled and kissed the hollow of his throat. It had been good. In fact, the sex had been getting better and better. Especially since she'd quit seeing Bjorn. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before she really did fall in love with Erik. After all, what was not to fall in love with? He was tall, blond, gorgeous and kind-hearted. A perfect husband. Wonderful father. Intelligent, caring, sensitive. An exceptionally good lover ... maybe even better than Bjorn. What more could a girl want?