by Davyne DeSye
“This is the plan you helped me modify,” Petter said.
“Well, I…”
“I shall correct the legend to reflect your name as well as mine,” Petter continued.
“Petter! I only…” Phoebe’s eyes were wide with her surprise.
“I plan to go to New York,” Petter continued.
“Yes, of course…” Phoebe began, and her eyes dropped.
“I would like you to come with me,” he finished.
Phoebe opened her mouth, and closed it again. When she spoke, it was a whisper. “What did you say?”
Petter reached forward and took her hand in his. Her fingers closed over his. His mind took him to all the times on his journey he had thought of her, of the photographs he had taken for her, of the warmth and companionship he felt when she was in his thoughts. The warmth that suffused him now was far deeper, far more overwhelming than the shallow flashes of excitement or desire Constance had inspired. Meeting Phoebe’s beautiful eyes with all the sincerity and force he could muster, he said, “Phoebe, I want you to come to New York with me.” He took a breath, and said, “Will you?”
Her eyes grew moist, and then a smile warmed her face like a sunrise. “Yes, Petter, I will,” she said.
Paying no heed to the fact that his parents stood at his back and that any number of journeymen worked at their stations across the large room, Petter took Phoebe into his arms, and kissed her. After they bumped noses and separated long enough to laugh, he kissed her again, and this time, allowed himself to be swept away.
CHAPTER 34
CHRISTINE AND ERIK
Christine held Erik’s warm body close against hers. It was late at night and the hotel room was dark, but the sound of the still-active London streets beat its way through the pane of the closed glass.
In the aftermath of their lovemaking – a lovemaking far more passionate than the pleasant but despondent unions of months past – they had both lain so still that she thought Erik asleep. She was startled when he spoke into the silence.
“I would rather it was the sound of the ocean,” he said.
“Yes,” she answered. She moved herself into a more comfortable position against him as she had not dared to do when she thought him sleeping.
“So what shall we do now, my wife?” he asked. “I have conquered the dragon and saved the fair maiden. Shall I now take her back to my castle?”
“Sweden?” she asked. She shifted her head onto his chest and pulled closer still.
He gave a deep-throated answer. “Yes, Sweden.”
“I love hearing your voice in your chest, hemmed in by your heartbeat.” She tightened her arms around him and said, surprising even herself, “No. We had a long and wonderful time in Sweden, but I am ready for something new.”
“Ah, some new place. Let’s see…” Christine lay against him, waiting for him to voice his thoughts. “Do you speak Spanish?” he asked after some while.
“You know I do not,” she said. She laughed and lifted her head to look at him in the low light. “Can you not think of any place in the world where they speak a language I have already learned? I have had enough adventuring in the last months to want at least the comfort of a known language.”
He was silent for another long moment, and Christine drifted toward sleep. When he spoke again, she could hear the hesitation, the searching nature of the question. “Would you like to go to New York? We could be close to Petter.”
She sighed in self-reproach for the depressed attitude she had forced Erik to live with after Petter left for London. “No, not to New York either.” She squeezed her husband again and said, “Thank you for asking, Erik. I know you did so only out of regard for me. But I have come to realize – to accept – that we have had all of Petter we can claim. He must walk his own path. I love him, I will always miss him and be happy to see him when the opportunity arises, but he has a life to live. I only hope that it is as exciting, as fulfilled, as successful as mine has been.” She sighed again, this time with release. She had been meaning to explain her changed feelings to Erik for some time now, but had not had the opportunity. “And with Phoebe… I think he has found a wonderful woman with whom to walk that path.”
Erik chuckled, the laugh bouncing her head as it lay against his chest. “I thought so from the moment I met her. I hoped Petter would come to realize it.”
Erik stretched and then rolled to cup his body around hers. “You have not told me where it is you would like to go,” he said into her ear.
“I do like the idea of going to America,” she answered after some thought. “But perhaps to the frontier, rather than to a city.” When Erik did not answer, she said, “Although, you might miss the ocean.”
Erik tightened his arms about her. “I will miss nothing so long as I am with you,” he said.
She yawned and snuggled into his arms. “At least they speak English there,” she said sleepily.
Erik spoke through his own answering yawn. “If you can call what they speak ‘English,’” he answered.
She smiled as she fell asleep, wondering what new adventures tomorrow would bring.
***
Less than two weeks later, Petter and Phoebe met Erik and Christine at the docks. Christine was pleased to see how happy the young couple looked – gleaming even in the somber London weather. Phoebe smiled as she held Petter’s arm and leaned close to him.
“Are you certain you don’t want your father and me to stay for the wedding?” she asked. It was the one aspect of their quick departure that troubled her. She and Erik needed to return to Sweden to wrap up their affairs there and the sooner the better. Then they would take the promised world tour and – assuming they did not find another place to settle – America.
It was Phoebe who answered. “Mrs. Nilsson, Petter and I are already married in our hearts, and you see us as happy today as we will be that day.” Christine thought this was probably so, and embraced the young woman.
“We’re having a very small wedding, in any case,” Petter answered with a smile. He turned to gaze at Phoebe with glowing eyes. Christine’s eyes clouded as she reached to embrace Petter as well.
“When do you go to New York?” Erik asked.
“We nearly have the contract finalized, Father,” Petter answered. “I’ll let you know where we’ve settled when you write with your own whereabouts.”
“I am very proud of you, son,” Erik said. His voice sounded suspiciously choked with emotion as he clasped Petter’s hand and then embraced him.
Petter waited as Erik also embraced Phoebe, then said, “I have a gift for you, Father.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a square of stiff paper.
Erik took it and Christine leaned close to examine the gift. It was a photograph of Erik and Petter, standing at the corner of a brick building.
“How lovely,” Christine said, and lifted her gaze to Erik.
Erik held the photograph a bit longer, swallowed heavily, blinked back tears and smiled before placing the gift in his breast pocket. “Thank you, son, most sincerely.” His smile broadened. “And I’ll have you know that I have already procured a Brownie of my own.” Erik embraced Petter again and then took Christine’s hand to lead her away.
“Father,” Petter said, stopping him. “You still owe me the story of your youth.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” he said. “One of these days, perhaps we can find a quiet time for the long and unhappy tale.”
“I will hold you to that,” Petter said.
“I am certain you will,” Erik answered with a smile. “I am certain you will.”
- END -
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If you’d like to read a science fiction novel by this author…
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