by ST Bende
“Where are we?”
“Alexandra Gardens. Named for Alexandra of Denmark, who became the longest running Welsh Princess.” Ull glanced at me from under thick lashes. “This is one of my favorite places in Cardiff.”
Ull led me down the knoll and laid the blanket on a grassy spot beneath one of the fuchsia trees. He opened the picnic basket and I wanted to ask him a million questions. He beat me to it as he handed me a bottle of sparkling water.
“Are you enjoying the city so far?” He opened an assortment of tapas for my perusal and helped himself to an olive before leaning back on one elbow.
“Yes.” I looked down to give myself time to think of something to say. His beautiful form stretched across the blanket had emptied my mind of all coherent thought. He was overwhelming, in the best possible way – tall, blond, muscular, attentive. The combination made it difficult to form words. “Cardiff is so much cleaner than I’d imagined.” Cleaner? I struggled to recover. “I mean, London was beautiful too, but everything was so grey – grime on the buildings, you know? That was neat, and all, because it was London. But everything here is… uh… white.” I gestured to the memorial, pristine in its place of honor. “Even the sidewalks seem white. I guess I just expected everything to be dirty because it’s so big, but Cardiff’s even cleaner than Nehalem was – and with only three hundred people, it doesn’t get very dirty. Well, it gets dirty because it’s in the forest. You know, with dirt. And stuff. But not because of litter or anything.”
Oh my God. That was all out loud. All of it. I shoved a slice of bread in my mouth to end my prattling.
It was a testament to Ull’s chivalry that he moved on without comment. “Tell me about Nehalem. What do you miss the most?” He leaned forward on his elbow, seemingly wanting to know.
“Oh gosh.” I wasn’t sure where to begin. When I was positive I wasn’t going to start in on another babble, I told him about my own favorite place. “Well, there’s this quiet spot off the main river. If you didn’t know it was there, you might never find it. My best friend Ardis and I spent a lot of time there and after she left for college in New York, I used to go by myself to read. Being there made it seem like she wasn’t so far away.”
“What about your parents?”
“What about them?” I countered before I could catch myself.
Ull had enough sense to keep quiet.
“My grandmother raised me – Mormor was my mom’s mom. My parents traveled a lot for their antique business. They were always on the lookout for new treasures for the shop.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “They didn’t want a kid around to slow them down. So they passed me off to Mormor – she knew me way better than they ever did anyway. She taught me to tie my shoes, to bake cookies, to write thank you notes. Everything I know.” I stared at my folded hands. “She’s gone now; she passed away right after I started college.”
“You miss her.” It wasn’t a question.
“Terribly.”
Ull offered me a container with turkey, cheese, and crackers. As I made my little sandwich, he kept up his stream of questions.
“What are your favorite books?”
“Um…” I chewed, appreciating the change of subject. “I like Shakespeare.”
“Romeo and Juliet?” Ull chuckled.
“Much Ado About Nothing.” I blushed. “I always saw myself as an un-bitter Beatrice.”
“How so?”
“She’s so disillusioned with love, and doesn’t think she can count on anyone – that part’s not me at all. But she’s really independent, and she’s always looking out for her impetuous cousin. It’s sort of like Ardis and me. She’d always get herself into these situations because of her heart, and I would come along and clean up after her.”
“Sounds tough.”
“Not really. Ardis got into the scrapes; I just had to help her out of them.” I’d been busy as a stump-tailed horse in fly time, the way Ardis found trouble. “My part was much easier.”
“Always a little outside of life, Miss Tostenson?”
“I guess.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. It was easier to watch Ardis go through heartbreaks than to get hurt myself. But Ull didn’t need to know that.
“I know the feeling.” Ull’s response was wry. “Favorite movies?” He continued before I could ask what he meant.
“Um… Much Ado, again. Kenneth Branagh’s pretty fantastic.”
“Agreed.”
Ull continued as the sun set. He asked about my favorite foods, the music I listened to, and what I hoped to do after graduation. He listened patiently as I told him my dream of working as a junior curator in a museum, and leaned in as I talked about my favorite works of art. He seemed genuinely interested in the minor details of my life, and I told him a bit about the oddities of a small-town upbringing. Naturally, I omitted talk of my little mental tic – every dog had a few fleas, and mine were bound to show themselves soon enough.
By the time the sun dipped at the horizon, our picnic was mostly gone, and Ull offered me a container of brownies. He held up his sparkling water and clinked his bottle to mine.
“Skål,” he said. “Cheers. To new beginnings.” He winked at me with a smile so dazzling, I couldn’t help but stare.
The way his pale lips curved up, with just a hint of a smirk behind the smile… could they really be as soft as they looked? What would they feel like against my cheek? My mouth? My neck? I shivered involuntarily.
“Are you cold?”
I shook my head. “Everything is wonderful. I’m just… I’m a little overwhelmed. You’re –” I stumbled over the words, ducking behind my hair. “You’re kind of great when you’re being nice.”
“Be careful, Kristia Tostenson.” Ull brushed my hair behind my ear, trailing one finger along the curve of my neck. His touch was soft; the barely-there sensation of a light breeze that sent a chill down my spine. I resumed my deep, calming breaths in earnest. “You could choose much better company than me,” he continued. There was a warning behind his easy smile.
“I’m not sure I could,” I whispered into my water. Ull stared, deep in thought.
“I am afraid, neither could I,” he confessed. My heart soared – maybe he really did like me. We watched the horizon in silence as the sky turned from blue to orange to purple. As dusk settled over the garden, Ull packed up the remnants of our picnic and held out a hand to help me up. “To the next stop on our Grand Circle Tour.”
When Ull pulled up to the posh nightclub, a new kind of panic swept over me. I wasn’t graceful sitting still and dancing was definitely not my forte. But as he seemed to be with everything else, Ull was a natural, leading me around the club as if I’d been dancing all my life. This required that he hold me very close, and the contact was almost too much for my overworked brain. Although I’d spent the better part of the night feeling like I had a live wire tapped directly into my spine, I now felt so light-headed that thought I might float away. This combination meant I nearly fell on several occasions. If he noticed, Ull was gentlemanly enough not to say anything.
We left the nightclub much too soon, Ull’s fingers twined through mine. Our hands fit together, his long fingers cradling my smallish ones. The familiar gesture made me smile, and I scooted closer as we walked, letting my shoulder brush against his arm. It was so easy to be next to him. I felt a twinge of sadness thinking our date must be nearing its end. But when Ull helped me into his car, he treated me to another dazzling smile.
“Would you care to join me for a drink at my local?”
“Maybe. What’s a local?”
“Ah, Americans,” Ull chuckled. “Your local is your favorite pub. Mine happens to be around the corner from your flat. Shall we go together?”
“Yes, please.”
Minutes later, we sat in the dimly-lit, wood-paneled room in the quiet pub. We were tucked away in a corner booth opposite the roaring fire. Ull had slid into the seat next to me rather than across from me. His arm rested around my shoulders
, so I had no choice but to lean into him in the small space. It was another familiar gesture that felt so easy, so right, it was like he’d been in my life for years instead of days. Were all first dates like this – full of anticipation, longing, and the satisfaction of feeling like you fit perfectly together? They hadn’t been, in my experience, but then there wasn’t a whole lot that was typical about me.
As we sipped our drinks – tea for me, an Irish Coffee for Ull – I finally got to ask him about himself. He spoke unreservedly about his home, winter days spent skiing and snowshoeing with friends, and summer afternoons swimming in the ocean and grilling out at night.
“What about your family? Do you have brothers and sisters?” He’d been so busy with his interrogation I’d stored up what felt like a thousand questions.
“Not so much,” he smiled lightly, though I felt his arm tense around me. “I do have a rather sizeable extended family though, makes up for it.”
“Are they in Norway?”
“Yes. They all live in the same village actually, but it is pretty remote. Not a lot of contact with the rest of the world.”
“How do they feel about you being so far from home?” An innocent enough subject, but Ull’s knuckles whitened around his mug before he released his hand.
“They support me as much as they can in my choices, but they do not particularly understand why I would want a life outside of… outside of our village.”
At that moment, my mental problem reared its ugly head. Clearly, the night was going too well.
I sat in a meadow, underneath what looked like a willow tree. A warm breeze blew its leaves and I looked up at the strange tinkling sound – the leaves were actually made of silver. At the bottom of the knoll, two swans paddled across a pristine pond. A majestic castle rose as if from the clouds, pink and orange in the setting sun. But it wasn’t the setting that took my breath away – it was the striking blond man sitting next to me, looking at me like I was the only woman in the world. It was Ull.
It was the first vision I’d ever wanted to stay in. I brought myself back against my will.
“Must be a really nice village.” I hoped he hadn’t noticed me slip away. Mormor always told me my little spells were too short for anyone to pay them any mind, but I was fairly positive she’d only said that so I wouldn’t be any more self-conscious than I already was.
Ardis had said pretty much the same thing when I asked her. “I dunno, about ten seconds? They’re not a big deal, Kristia, seriously. You just kind of get quiet, like you’re thinking about something serious. Then you’re back to normal again.” But she’d had to say that – your best friend probably wouldn’t tell you if you were zoning out like a weirdo for minutes at a time. Still, I hoped there was a grain of truth to Mormor and Ardis’ kindness. Maybe Ull wouldn’t pick up on my mind trips.
“My village is nice. And my family rarely leaves it. But me.” He shrugged, mercifully oblivious to my mental jaunt. “I just wanted something different, I suppose.”
“And what do you want, Ull?” I glanced up, relieved I’d stayed under the radar. A slow smile spread across his face.
“I do not think anyone has ever asked me that.” He thought for a long moment. “I just want to be free to do the things I love – ski, skate, play hockey. Travel. I spent a winter skiing in the Alps, and it was paradise. It was the only time I have ever felt untouchable – flying down hills, completely cut off from everything but the mountain. No emotions, no expectations. No pressure.”
When he looked at me there was gratitude in his eyes. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to open up to you. I am not able to talk with many people.”
“That’s your choice – girls try to talk to you all the time.”
Ull laughed. “Let me rephrase. I am not comfortable talking with many people. But you, Kristia…” His look made my breath hitch. “You are easy to be with. You do not let me get away with anything. I can be myself with you.”
We sat in peaceful silence, and I listened to the sound of Ull’s breathing. I inhaled the woodsy smell coming from his neck, a musky combination of pine and earth. For the first time in my life, I felt like I might actually be where I was meant to be. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or terrified.
But I didn’t get to make up my mind. Even pubs have closing times, and with a cheery wave our waitress informed us that time had come. “Well, Miss Tostenson,” Ull said with a wink. “I suppose I had better get you home.”
“I had a great night,” I said honestly. Stupid closing time.
“I did too.” He looked into my eyes like he was searching for something. With a sigh, he started the too-short drive back to my flat. He walked me to my door, took my hands gently between both of his, and bent, kissing each hand in turn.
“Thank you Kristia, for the most enjoyable evening I have ever had.” My heart thudded with such fervor, I was sure it would give me away. His eyes looked almost wistful as he raised one finger to touch my cheek. I wanted to stand right there forever.
His hand lingered at my neck, and with a whispered “God natt,” he walked back to his car and drove off into the cool night. I shivered, pulled my arms around my chest, and let myself into the apartment. I had a feeling my life was about to change in a big way.
“Two dates in one weekend. You don’t waste time. Where did you say he’s taking you tonight?” It was Sunday afternoon, and Victoria was examining the contents of my armoire with a critical eye.
“The castle.”
“Lucky wench.” Emma padded in and curled up on my bed. “Another date with Ull.”
“I thought the castle closed at six.”
“It does. But I guess there’s some dinner thing they do after?”
“The Welsh Banquet.” Emma’s eyes were big. “That’s fancy. Step it up, Vic.”
“Which of these is your sexiest dress?” Victoria stared at her options, obviously dissatisfied.
“Um, the teal one. On the right with the dresses–” I started.
“Between the green dress and the black dress. You color coded your closet?” Emma snickered.
“This is your sexiest dress? This comes practically to your knees.” Victoria’s irritation was growing.
“I lived with my grandmother, okay?”
“It’s kind of low cut,” Emma offered helpfully. “Throw on a push up bra and those four–inch, nude patent heels of Victoria’s…”
“My thoughts exactly.” Victoria nodded. “Emma, I’m proud of you. You’ve been listening to me.”
“Like I had any choice.” Emma stuck out her tongue.
“We’ll need major hair. I’m thinking Brigitte Bardot. And a cat eye.” Victoria’s mind was racing.
“Ooh, can we try that navy eyeliner I got last week?” Emma bounced to her knees.
“With the nude lipstick I picked up yesterday?” I pointed to the Clinique bag on my dresser. I may have gone out and bought all new makeup when Ull called to ask me out again. Seemed prudent.
“Yes and yes.” Victoria clapped her hands together. “Let’s get to work, ladies.”
“Are you sure you will be all right on the stairs?” Ull stood in the grand hall of Cardiff Castle, glancing at the four-inch, shiny death-traps Victoria called shoes. Since Ull’s eyes practically bugged out of his face when he picked me up, I had no intention of changing into the emergency flats I’d stuck in my purse. Victoria had scored another hit.
“Probably not. Walk behind me in case I fall?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“On our right, the coats of arms,” continued the tour guide. He’d been talking for a good five minutes and I couldn’t remember a single word. That was because Ull had started stroking the small of my back when our tour began, and it took all my concentration just to stay upright.
“The castle is gorgeous.” I admired the stonework as we made our way toward the stairs. There I shifted focus to my feet, staring at each step until I’d reached the top. “Made it.”<
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“And I was so hoping I would get to catch you.” Ull came up next to me and skimmed my hand with the pads of his fingers.
“Well, the night is young and these shoes are high. You may still get your chance.”
“Tease.” Ull kissed my palm.
“Um.” I swayed on the heels and he chuckled.
“Come, Miss Tostenson. We are losing the group.”
“Right.”
We walked the long corridor framed with paintings. All of the history in these walls was kind of overwhelming. The castle was two thousand years old. The oldest thing we had back in Nehalem was probably the Homestead. Cardiff Castle had about eighteen hundred years on that farm.
“This place is huge,” I whispered when we’d caught up to the tour. “I can’t imagine living here. How could you ever get comfortable?”
“You get used to it,” Ull shrugged. “Find little corners to make your own.”
“How on earth could anyone get used to all of this?”
“When you are stuck in it every day it gets old. Trust me.”
“Right.” Like Ull was an authority on royal dwellings. “Living in a castle sounds sooo terrible.”
“Depends on the day.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just that these walls did more than keep people out – they kept people in, too.”
I thought about my vision from Friday night – of Ull and me in a meadow by a castle. Huh.
“Where did you say your family lived, exactly?” I probed.
But Ull bristled. I’d hit a nerve. “Come Kristia, we have lost our group again.” He gently pulled me down the hall.
“You may have noticed the Animal Wall in front of the Castle. Though William Burges designed the Wall in 1866, it was not constructed until 1890 – nine years after Burges’s death.” The guide lifted an eyebrow as we caught up. “Please do try to stay with the tour,” he admonished before turning down another corridor. The rest of the group followed closely.