"He'll be three in March.” Margit ran a slender hand through her long reddish-blonde hair. She had an open, friendly face dusted with freckles and a warm smile. A girl-next-door version of Nicole Kidman. “My husband, Gunvor, was killed in a helicopter crash in the North Sea before he was born. He worked at an offshore oil platform for Phillips Petroleum."
"How terrible for you!” Leigh said, shocked. Margit was so young to be a widow.
"Ja. It was an awful blow. But Gunny and I are starting to get our life back together. If it weren't for the Haukeland's, I don't know how I would have made it. They've been so good to us. I've known them since I was a child. And recently, when Gunny was ill, Grethe and Arne were so supportive."
"What was wrong with Gunny?” Leigh asked.
"He had hepatitis, and was extremely ill for a while, but Bjorn brought him through it. He's a wonderful doctor.” Margit's freckled face glowed.
"I'm sure he is. He seems great with his daughters."
"And you, you must miss your children, being so far away from them at this festive time of the year.” Curiosity glimmered in her green eyes.
Uneasy, Leigh looked away from her. “Yes, I do miss them."
"Mummy!” Gunny ran into the room, his chubby arms outstretched toward his mother.
Margit smiled and spoke to him in Norwegian. He crawled onto her lap, cuddling against her breasts. Leigh smiled at him. He gazed back at her with huge blue eyes, his thumb firmly inserted in his mouth. How adorable he was! With those reddish-gold curls and chubby cheeks. As she watched mother and son together, Leigh thought of the tender moments she'd shared with Aaron. But he didn't need her anymore. None of her children did.
Margit gazed at her over Gunny's silky head. “Gunny wants me to take him to see the jul tree. Would you like to join us? I'm sure coffee will soon be ready."
Coffee sounded like a godsend. When she stood up, Leigh found her vision wasn't quite as blurred as it had been. The short rest had helped. A few minutes after they arrived in the family room, Grethe, Anne-Lise and Dordei entered, carrying luscious desserts and coffee.
Although Leigh had thought she was too stuffed to eat another bite, the desserts looked so tempting she immediately relented. Anne-Lise pointed out each confection—a ring-shaped cake made from crushed almonds and egg whites called kransekake, and two different kinds of cookies. For the guests who still hadn't had enough holiday spirits, “Eggnog Viking” was served, heavily laced with brandy. Leigh wisely decided to bypass it, but helped herself to a small portion of each dessert and a cup of strong black coffee.
The children had rejoined the adults in the family room and had filled their plates with sweets. Leigh watched as little Gunny grabbed a cookie from a plate, took one bite of it and handed it to his mother. Immediately he returned to the buffet table and reached for a different kind.
"Nei, Gunvor,” Margit said sternly.
The little boy scampered away, his eye having been caught by a pull-toy that two-year-old Inger-Lise dragged behind her. Across the room, Erik's eyes met hers and he smiled, lifting his eggnog glass and silently mouthing, “Skal."
Leigh grimaced and lifted her coffee cup in an ironic toast. Just then, Bjorn drifted over to Erik's side to begin an animated conversation. Smiling, Leigh turned away and glanced about the room at Erik's family. They were almost exactly as he'd described them, except he hadn't prepared her for his mother's frostiness. But the visit would soon be over and she'd have Erik to herself again. That was all she wanted. Just Erik ... and if possible, her kids.
"Gunvor, stoppe! Nei!"
Leigh looked up to see what had prompted Margit's harsh command. Gunny stood on his tiptoes, reaching up with stubby fingers toward a fragile glass dove hanging from a branch of the Christmas tree. With a look of mischievous guilt, he pulled his hand away from the ornament and smiled up at his mother.
"Krumkake!” he said clearly, lifting his cookie toward her, as if it were a peace offering.
Laughing, Margit gathered the little boy into her arms. He allowed her embrace for a brief moment, then struggled out of her arms and trotted away.
Anne-Lise appeared at Leigh's side. “Kayleigh, are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale. Would you like some water?"
"Yes, thank you,” Leigh said hoarsely, unable to look away from Gunny and his mother. A trembling had begun in her limbs as she'd watched the scene at the Christmas tree. She could still see the expression on the little boy's face as he'd been reprimanded.
He'd looked exactly like Erik.
Chapter 16
Leigh wasn't sure how she'd managed to get through the rest of the evening after coming to her startling conclusion. Somehow, she'd been able to carry out her social obligations, but her mind had been in a trance-like fog. She couldn't keep her eyes off the little boy.
Erik's son. It didn't make sense. Of course, it didn't. But deep in her heart, she knew it was true. The phone call in October. The one where she listened to Erik's voice on the answering machine. “Something has happened here ... it's imperative I talk to Kayleigh.” Had that been what he was calling about? But no, that didn't make sense either. The boy was three years old. If it was true that Erik was his father, surely he would've known about it all along, right? Which meant ... all this last year ... every time he slept with her ... Oh, dear God. She felt nauseous.
Naturally, Erik realized something was wrong during the cautious drive back to his apartment. Several times, he asked her why she was so quiet. Too much liquor, she told him, aware that her voice carried a revealing edge. But she wouldn't say more. There was no point in getting into it while they were driving on icy streets.
Erik refused to drop it. “It's more than the aquavit, isn't it? What is wrong?"
Her control broke. “Nothing! Just leave me alone!"
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he didn't speak again during the drive. Inside his apartment, he went straight to the fireplace as Leigh stood at the window, shivering in the fur coat he'd bought her.
After building a fire, he stood up and turned. Leigh was still at the window, staring out at the snow that had started to fall again. He moved toward her. “Kayleigh, is it Mor? Is it because she was so aloof? It takes her a while to get to know someone. You should not take it personally."
Leigh whirled on him. “It's not your mother, Erik! It's Margit!"
If she had not been watching his face so closely, she might have missed the sudden wariness in his eyes, the faint flush that appeared on his cheeks. She felt her heart sink. Here was the final proof. But would he lie to her ... or admit the truth? She took a deep breath and asked the question. “Gunny is your son, isn't he?"
He didn't answer. Leigh waited, knowing his silence was answer enough.
Finally, he spoke. “Yes."
The word hung in the air, echoing inside her brain, traveling down through her consciousness and finally stabbing deep into her heart like a razor-edged poison dart. How could one little word hurt so much?
Erik moved closer, but made no attempt to touch her. “Kayleigh, will you let me explain?"
Leigh turned away. What possible difference could an explanation make? “Just tell me one thing,” she said. “Are you in love with her?"
"No.” His answer was swift and firm. “But you must let me tell you what happened. I didn't know myself I was the father until I got back from the states."
She stared at him. “How is that possible? The kid is three years old."
"I will tell you. But first, I'm making you some tea. You're still shivering. Sit down, kjareste. It will only take a moment."
Wrong, Erik. Tea is not going to fix this. Was it to always be her fate to be betrayed by the man she loved? But overcome by a sudden lethargy, she allowed Erik to lead her to the bed where he tucked her into the rumpled covers. Without speaking again, he walked into the kitchenette and placed the kettle on the stove. She leaned back against the wall, hugging the fur coat to her. God, she was so cold. Was it
only this afternoon she and Erik had made love in this very bed? How different it all seemed now.
As if from a great distance, she heard him clanging away in the kitchen and wearily, she realized the tea was just an excuse. He was in there thinking up a reasonable story to get himself off the hook. And she shouldn't let him get away with it. If she had any brains, she would get out of bed, pack her clothes and take the first plane home to the states. But she knew she wouldn't do it. She had to listen to what he had to say; even now, he still had a mysterious power over her and she couldn't fight it.
Erik returned to the bed, carrying a tray with two mugs of steaming tea. He placed it on the nearby table, gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed and handed a mug to her. Silently, she took it, refusing to make it easy for him.
Leaving his tea untouched, he spoke in a low voice, “Margit was married to my best friend, Gunvor. The three of us practically grew up together. I loved her like a sister ... loved them both. I'll never forget the day I found out about the helicopter crash. It was the 17th of May, Constitution Day. I was at university, celebrating with all the other students. Bjorn found me there, told me what had happened to Gunvor. I was devastated. We'd been best friends for years, going through elementary school and the gymnas together. I couldn't believe he was dead.” Erik paused, his voice husky. “I didn't know what to do ... except get sloshed. And that, I did. Then I got it into my head that I had to see Margit. She was the only one who loved him as much as I did ... who could understand my pain. My roommate tried to discourage me from driving, but he couldn't stop me. I was determined to see her."
He paused again and took a sip of his cooling tea. His eyes wore a haunted expression. Leigh sat motionless, trying to hold onto her anger, yet, she felt her heart softening against his naked vulnerability. No! She couldn't let him get away with this; she was hurt, too.
He continued, “Margit looked frightful when she answered the door. Her hair was tangled, her eyes red and swollen from crying. But even in her grief, she saw how bad off I was and took me into her flat. She made coffee and we cried in each other's arms. We were both lost without Gunvor.” He looked straight into her eyes. “What happened between us that night was a result of our grief. We were reaching out for comfort, but it was an empty gesture. We both realized it was a mistake as soon as it happened. And we agreed to forget about it, to pretend it didn't happen."
"But nine months later, there came a little reminder, right?” Leigh couldn't hide the bitterness in her voice.
"No, that's not right,” Erik said. “Ja, she found she was pregnant, but Gunvor had been home the weekend before he died, and she refused to believe the child wasn't his. She found out the truth while I was in Virginia."
"And how did she do that?"
"Gunny became ill with hepatitis and needed a blood transfusion. Bjorn discovered his blood type was incompatible with Gunvor's, making it impossible for him to be the father. Somehow, Bjorn had found out I'd been over there that night, and he made an educated guess about what had happened. After he confronted Margit with the blood test results, she admitted that I ... that we had ... intercourse that night. She begged him not to tell me, but he couldn't make that promise to her. He believed I had the right to know Gunny was my son."
"And does everyone ... all your family know about it?” Leigh asked.
"Only my parents and Bjorn."
Leigh drew her hands through her rumpled hair. “God! I feel like such a goddamn fool!” A riptide of fury washed over her. “Damn you, Erik! Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know Margit was going to be there tonight. That was my mother. She has been trying to play match-maker. Kayleigh, you have to believe I didn't want you hurt. I thought we could be together, and you would never have to know about Margit and Gunny."
"And if I decided to stay here? To be with you? Then what? Were you going to hide them from me forever, Erik? How were you going to manage that?"
"I hadn't thought it out. Kristus, Kayleigh! Can't you see what you've done to me? I love you so much I'll do anything to keep you.” His face was anguished. “I was so afraid of losing you. That's why I couldn't tell you."
"I don't want to hear it!” Leigh shouted. “You're a selfish jerk, Erik, and I hate you!” A strangled sob caught in her throat, and quickly, she scrambled up from the bed.
"Kayleigh, how can you blame me for something that happened years ago, before I even met you?"
She whirled around. “I don't give a shit about what you did years ago! It's now that concerns me. And you lied to me! Yes, by omission, true, but it's still a lie! You should have told me about Margit and Gunny."
"How?” Erik fired back. “You wouldn't even answer my letters! The first thing I heard from you was that telegram saying you were arriving. What did you expect me to do? Wire back ... Kayleigh, so glad you'll be here ... guess what ... I'm a father? Don't be stupid!"
"But you could have told me after I arrived ... at least before you took me to your family's home."
"Ja, I admit I made a mistake. I can only plead that I wanted to have more time with you before we had to face it.” Erik moved off the bed and approached her. “Kayleigh, there's more ... I want to be straight with you this time. But first, you must believe that I love you.” He stopped inches away from her, his blue eyes solemn, his arms at his side, making no attempt to touch her. “I have to marry Margit."
She felt as he'd plowed his fist through her stomach. Turning away from him, she sat down at the small dining table. “I see.” Her voice was oddly unemotional.
"Do you?” Erik whispered, joining her at the table. “Kayleigh, will you at least look at me?"
She lifted her chin and forced herself to meet his eyes.
"To be blunt, I am honor-bound to marry her. I know that must sound old-fashioned to an American, but it's the way I feel. Gunny is my son and it is my responsibility to give him and his mother a good home. I can do nothing else now that I know the truth."
There was a long silence. Leigh could only stare at him, speechless. A pulse throbbed heavily in her temple, foretelling the onslaught of a migraine. Erik's eyes dropped to the table as his fingers stroked the varnished grain of the wood.
"So far, Margit is refusing to marry me. She thinks of me as a brother."
Leigh's harsh laugh broke the stillness in the room. “Yes, it was real brotherly of you to screw your best friend's widow on the night he died.” The barb struck home. She cringed inside at the wounded look in his eyes.
He stood up. “I was a fool to think you'd understand.” He strode into the kitchenette and opened a cabinet from which he pulled out a bottle of wine. “Why don't you get some sleep?” he said over his shoulder. “We have an early start tomorrow."
Leigh stared at his broad back in amazement. “An early start?” she echoed. Realization set in. “Do you actually expect me to travel through Norway with you after tonight?"
Erik had arranged for them to spend Christmas in his family's cabin in Southern Norway's Setesdal Valley.
He turned around, a surprised look on his face. “What else are you going to do?"
"I can get a flight home tomorrow."
Erik shrugged. “If that is what you want..."
Bitter tears sprang to her eyes. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted for it to be like it was before ... just she and Erik, with no Margit and no little blue-eyed boy with bright red-gold curls standing between them. But she wasn't going to tell him that. Why should she let him see how much she was hurting? She looked away from him so he wouldn't see her tears.
"And I really think I should leave here now. Get a hotel room."
Erik shook his head. “It's after one o'clock. You would never be able to find a room. And Kayleigh, I think you'd better forget about a flight home tomorrow. Christmas is only a few days away and I'm positive they are fully booked."
She knew he was right. So then what could she do? She felt him approaching and stood up to move away. But she couldn't eva
de him. His gentle hands dropped onto her shoulders and he turned her around to face him. His thumbs brushed away the tears tracking down her face. “My Kayleigh,” he said. “We'll work this out. Find a way to be together."
Silently, Leigh shook her head. Still, his touch had broken through the rigid wall she'd erected between them. She allowed him to hold her closer until finally, her face rested against his comforting chest. It was simply impossible for her to remain angry with him, especially since she could see how miserable he was, too. But nothing was resolved. A decision had to be made, and she knew there was only one choice.
"Let me make love to you,” Erik said, and drew her mouth up to meet his. His kiss was achingly sweet, and once again, Leigh gave herself up to it. She couldn't resist him; she was drawn to him as if he were a magnet and she was just one of a clump of pins that clung tenaciously to it.
One choice. For the sake of her sanity, she had to find the strength to draw away from this powerful magnet.
* * * *
"Kayleigh, have you ever heard the Norse legend, “East of the Sun, West of the Moon?"
"No."
Beneath her left ear, she could hear Erik's heart beating, deep and steady now that the love-making was over. He held her tightly, one hand stroking her back, almost as if he was afraid to release her.
His room was dark except for the flicker of the fire burning low in the grate. Outside, icy particles of snow chattered against the window. Erik's body was warm wedged against hers, yet, she still felt cold. It was a cold that emanated from the inside out. And no amount of sweet love-making was going to warm her up.
"I will tell you this legend."
"Erik, I think the time for fairytales is over."
His arms tightened around her. “I will tell you this legend, Kayleigh. Please."
She released a sigh. “Okay."
"A poor man sold his youngest daughter to a white bear so that he could feed his family. The daughter went to live with the bear in his castle inside of a mountain. On her first night there, after she went to bed, a man came into her dark camber and slipped into her bed. The young woman never saw his face, but she grew to love him when night after night, he came to her bed and made love to her. After several months, the bear gave her permission to go home to visit her family, but he warned her not to tell her mother about the man who visited her chamber every night. Of course, the girl did just the opposite. She told her mother about the nightly visits, and how she had fallen in love with the man whose face she'd never seen. She wished desperately to see what he looked like, so her mother gave her a piece of tallow and told her to light it after the man had fallen asleep, but to be careful not to drop any on him. So, this is what the girl did. When the man came to her bed the next time, she waited until he fell asleep and then lit the tallow.” He paused.
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