by Sioux Dallas
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Cover
Other books by Sioux Dallas
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Some Bonus Short Stories by Sioux Dallas
The End Justifies the Means
A Wrong Made Right
Time Will Tell
Old Judd and the Devil
Back cover
Liisa
by
Sioux Dallas
CCB Publishing
British Columbia, Canada
Liisa
Copyright ©2012 by Sioux Dallas
ISBN-13 978-1-927360-33-0
Second Edition
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Dallas, Sioux, 1930-
Liisa [electronic resource] / written by Sioux Dallas. – 2nd ed.
Electronic monograph in PDF format.
ISBN 978-1-927360-33-0
I. Title.
PS3604.A439L55 2012 813'.6 C2012-904085-1
Disclaimer: This is a book of pure fiction, a product of the author’s imagination, and does not represent any person, living or dead.
Extreme care has been taken to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.
Publisher:
CCB Publishing
British Columbia, Canada
www.ccbpublishing.com
Books Written by Sioux Dallas
First Experience
Sharon
Desperate Wish
L i i s a
Death in Three Quarter Time
The Perfect Spouse
Montana Madness
Dangerous Hilarity
Amish Dilemma
And coming soon:
A Detective’s Heart
Acknowledgements
LIISA is a Norwegian name pronounced with an extra long e and said almost in a sing-song: L E E Z A
My humble appreciation goes to my family and friends who believe in me and keep encouraging me.
My first thanks go to my deceased parents who instilled in me a love of reading and a love of writing. My mother, Pearl Stallard Rutherford read constantly and wrote many beautiful poems and several were published. My father, Andrew Jackson Rutherford loved reading. Both parents told me many stories of their childhood and what they had learned from their ancestors, which helps with my thinking for ideas to write about. From both parents I learned to love reading and studying the Bible.
Chapter One
Standing in front of the painting with the “not for sale” sign on it, Liisa Lofoten was so deep in thought that she jumped and gave a small choked scream when a large hand was laid on her shoulder.
“Sorry, Liisa. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just came by to congratulate you on your showing this weekend. They were not only beautiful paintings, but they brought fabulous prices. You certainly deserve it.” Ben Johnson smiled and hugged the young woman that he had raised with his own children.
Liisa smiled up at the tall man who had been a father to her. His wavy, silver hair was still as soft and thick at sixty-eight as it had been earlier in his life. His gray eyes sparkled with affection for her.
“Thank you, Uncle Ben. Your praise means more to me than all of the sales I made.”
He gave her a quick hug and turned to leave. He half turned to say, “Don’t forget Ellen is going to have one of her splendid, deeelicious dinners tonight, and you, my dear, are the guest of honor. To celebrate your success.”
“Yeah,” she laughed, “the guest of honor who will clean the kitchen after dinner.”
He threw one hand backward over his shoulder in the air in farewell as he turned to stride out of the building, leaving the sound of his deep, rumbling laughter behind.
Liisa hugged herself feeling the joy and love she held for this family who had taken her into their hearts and their home making her feel loved and wanted. She was an only child born to a couple late in life. Her parents loved her but were so much in love with each other, and wrapped up in their work, that they neglected to take a child’s interests into account. They would have been shocked if someone had informed them that they were leaving their beloved child out of their lives. Marvelous housekeepers and a nanny did their job and that was it. Liisa’s father, Eric Lofoten, was a successful architect and her mother, Johanna, was a ballet dancer and later a dance teacher.
The Lofotens lived next door to the estate of the Johnsons. The three Johnson children, Gloria, five years older than Liisa, Paul, one year older and Ronald, one year younger, accepted Liisa as one of them. Gloria had been a big sister in every sense of the word. Liisa and Paul had climbed trees, sneaked off to swim in a nearby lake and got into a lot of mischief together. It was Mrs. Johnson, Aunt Ellen, who had cuddled and comforted Liisa when she was sad and Aunt Ellen had gone to her school activities, filling in as a mother. Uncle Ben, being an excellent, well-known physician, saw that her health was well cared for.
Liisa had been eight when her mother had died with stomach cancer and ten when her father was killed in a building collapse. With no hesitation, the Johnsons simply took her in to raise with their own three. Of course they had to have an attorney help them go to court and apply for guardianship of Liisa. Their good name and money helped tremendously. Distant relatives were all in Norway and unknown to Liisa.
Liisa used her inheritance from her parents to attend the University of Oslo, Norway just north of her father’s home town of Drammen. Her father only had distant relatives whom she had never met and her mother had been an only child with no known living relatives.
Liisa had loved Johanagate Street, in Drammen, on which the University was located with the art galleries, museums and historical places. A bubbling personality and a ready smile made friends for her not only at the University but of the business people along the street. Friendly greetings were called to her wherever she went.
She had majored in art and business administration. Now the talents she had inherited from her father were giving her great pleasure as well as financial security for the future.
Liisa’s eyes focused again on the five feet by four feet painting. Why is it that I’m reluctant to sell this painting? I must have met this man to paint his picture, but who is he? There is a stirring of familiarity, but I can’t place him. Where have I known him? Oh, why can’t I remember?
The man was not one who could be called handsome, although he would get second looks. He was muscular, virile, all male. His silver-blond hair was just below his ears and his piercing light-blue eyes seemed to follow her wherever she moved. He was standing on a huge boulder, jutting from the side of a mountain, with one black leather-booted foot resting on a rock. The tips of two fingers hooked loosely at the neck of a navy blazer held carelessly over his right shoulder. A burgundy pullover sweater showed a white collar of a shirt underneath the sweater, and navy dress slacks showed a trim figure and long legs. The hint of dimples could be seen ev
en though he was not smiling. He was ruggedly good looking. His expression seemed to say, ‘I am a man’s man. I know who I am and am comfortable with my masculinity.’
Liisa kept staring at the portrait struggling to remember something about this man. When and where did I paint this? It must have been early spring because I’ve painted flowers and flowering bushes just beginning to bloom on the mountain, but there was snow on the mountain top at a distance. Tall, majestic evergreens are in abundance in the background. I can almost feel a cool breeze stirring and smell the pines.
With a small sigh, Liisa turned slowly from the picture, walked a few steps down the hallway and turned right into the gallery. Passing a full-length mirror, she frowned at her reflection. Golden-blond hair fell straight to her waist. Bright blue eyes showed a troubled expression. She stopped to take a good look at herself; five-six with a good figure and a beautiful complexion that needed no cosmetics. The blue shantung dress fitted her small waist to fall in graceful swirls mid calf. Her only ornaments were the diamond earrings that the Johnsons had given her for college graduation. Twenty-six years old and teenagers know themselves better than I do, she thought disgustedly. The light blue suede heels were pinching her feet after standing most of the day. Mentally shaking herself she walked through the art gallery to the office in a back room.
Arnold Watson, seated behind a large, mahogany desk, stood and came to hug Liisa. “Honey, your parents would have been so proud of you. I know I am. Some very important art critics were impressed and asked to see more of your work. Jim Berthle, with the Republican-American newspaper wants to do a special write-up on you. Honey, you’re on your way - big time.”
“Arnold, I would be nothing without you. I’m so blessed to have such a good friend. It’s my good fortune that you were best buddies with my dad and were willing to take a chance on me. I can’t find adequate words to tell you how grateful I am that you allowed me to show in your gallery. And all the work you did! You set up everything, invited the press and many influential people and even hired a caterer.”
“Let it be. I’m happy for you and hope you’ll be encouraged to continue. Have you considered portrait painting? You did a superb job on the unknown man that you refuse to sell. Why, honey, you would be famous in no time if you’d agree to paint the little darlings of rich families.”
Liisa had to laugh. Arnold’s rapid conversations were like machine gun fire. Getting a word in was impossible until he ran down.
“Arnold, I know you’re sincere in your praise because you’ve been just as quick to give constructive criticism in the past.” She gave him another exuberant hug. “You old fake. Other people may think you’re an ogre, but I know the truth. You’re really an old softie at heart. Maybe I’ll be interested in portrait painting in the future, but for the present, I’m not comfortable with the idea.”
Arnold shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it’s your business. I’m here for you regardless of what you decide to do. Why don’t you run on home? It’s past closing time and the cleaning people will take care of any mess.”
“Great! I am bushed and I have to change to go to the Johnson’s for a celebration dinner. They would love it if you came, too.”
“Thank you, but no. At my age I just want to go home, have a hot shower, climb into pjs and have a quiet snack in front of the television. Bedtime sounds good to me.”
“I don’t know how you stand all that excitement,” Liisa laughed as she put on her coat and gloves. Pulling a cap down around her ears, she blew Arnold a kiss and left. Arnold grinned at her and reached for a financial record. She knew he would be working until the wee hours and his mind would be strictly on business.
The cold, brisk wind forced a fast walk as Liisa hurried the two blocks to her apartment in the Center Apartments on Center Street. Brrr! Why did dad choose Waterbury, Connecticut instead of a warmer part of the United States when he came here from Norway? I guess it reminded him of his home. To be honest, I do love this city and all the people I know.
At one time it was known as the Brass City because of its leading brass industry in the nation. It’s well located in the Central Naugatuck Valley Region. The city has been putting a new face on by spending thirty million dollars to renovate the historical I920 Palace Theater. Also, the citizens have formed a Crime Stoppers group as a community project to help the police observe, report and help solve crimes. I love it.
She never tired of hearing her dad tell his story. She could hear his voice now telling her about his life as she sat on his lap. “Liisa, some things are just meant to be. I came from Norway to America to finish my education and have hands-on experience in building. I wanted to make the best architect possible. One night some friends persuaded me to attend a ballet. I fell in love at first sight with the graceful ballerina. It wasn’t that she was the main star; there was something special about her smile and her presence. After the ballet, all of us went to eat and she came into the same restaurant. I introduced myself, we talked, and both of us fell in love. Our friends were surprised when we eloped three weeks later. She continued dancing and I opened my first business. We both loved children, but it seemed as if we would never have our own little angel. The time was just never right because of our work.
We had been married fifteen years; Johanna was thirty-eight and I was forty-six when we were thrilled to know we were having a baby. Your mother stopped going on tours and opened her own dance studio. My work was more successful than I had dreamed.” She smiled remembering that her parents did truly love her, but they had been so in love with each other, that there was little room for anyone else. They didn’t purposely leave her out; they just didn’t think.
Liisa called a cheery greeting to the doorman and to the guard at the desk. She took the elevator to her penthouse apartment and thankfully entered. The Johnsons had been sad when she decided to get a place of her own and reminded her that she always had a home with them.
She blessed the warm air blowing and kicked off her heels as she thankfully walked shoeless on the thick, white carpet. Bright burgundy pillows with subtle black swirls dotted the blue leather furniture. An L-shaped desk sat in one comer with a computer and a telephone on it. A printer was on one end. Potted plants were placed in an attractive arrangement around the large, open room. Wide French doors with white on white sheer curtains opened onto a small balcony with a filigree iron railing.
Liisa walked into the coral and mint-green kitchen to heat water for herbal tea. She then walked across the living room to a large, airy bedroom painted cream and peach. She undressed and put on a warm robe. There was a high four poster oak bed with a bright-colored handmade wedding ring quilt on it. A comfortable lounge chair sat in front of a television set and a matching chaise lounge was in front of a wide, floor to ceiling window with drapes made to match the quilt. White vertical blinds covered this entire wall on which the window was located.
The adjoining bathroom held a pale, green sunken tub. All the other fixtures were attractive in a pastel green. Light cream wallpaper with bright, colorful birds, complimented the room. A large room running the length of both the bedroom and the bathroom, contained a storage space at one end and a large walk-in closet at the other end. There were easels, high tables with lamps and stools for Liisa’s work. Lots of shelf space held art supplies, and a steel safe held personal papers and jewelry. A long window on the side and a skylight gave the room a feeling of being outdoors.
Liisa walked back to the kitchen to fix a hot mug of Wild Berry Zinger tea and took it to the bedroom. Checking the time, she saw that she could spare twenty minutes to relax. She turned on the television to get the news and see if the spot that was done on her paintings was showing. How good it felt to lean back against big, firm pillows and put her feet up to relax.
She opened her eyes to discover that the news was off and almost thirty minutes had passed. Jumping up, she took a quick shower and dressed in a red jumpsuit with a twisted gold belt. Big gold, hoop earrings and gold
low-heeled shoes completed her outfit. She ran a comb through her hair and quickly braided it behind in one French braid. Grabbing her purse she got a heavy, warm, black cape with a hood from the closet and put it on. Rushing down to the underground garage, she quickly backed her silver BMW out and headed toward the Johnson estate on Blueberry Hill.
Gloria met her at the door with a hug and a kiss on both cheeks. Liisa got a sloppy kiss from Gloria’s fourteen-month-old son, Jerome. Ronald Johnson ran out of the den, hugged her tightly and lifted her off the floor to whirl her around.
“Put her down and stop this racket.”
All of them jumped to obey the short, plump, sweet-faced woman standing in the dining room doorway. Liisa was hugged and kissed by Aunt Ellen who had a grin on her face and moisture in her blue eyes. Short pepper and salt hair curled in the moist heat.
“Honey, we’re all so proud of you, but not surprised. We know you are oozing with talent. Of course, we’re proud of you regardless, but we’re so happy for you.” Aunt Ellen swiped at her eyes and waved a hand in the air. “Well eat as soon as Paul gets here. Ben is upstairs trying to control his glee. He came home bursting with happiness and pride with the news of your success,” she giggled, sounding like a girl instead of a sixty-two year old woman.
Gloria’s husband, James Williams, ambled into the hall and shyly hugged Liisa. “I’m proud of you, too, and very happy.” Long ago he had explained that Gloria considered her as a younger sister and now that he was married to Gloria, he would do the same.
“Thank you, James. It’s so good to be here tonight with family.”
Ben came clattering down the steps in a run and swooped Liisa up to hug her and whirl around.