by L. Langdon
“And little did you know that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.” She chuckled as she recalled that night. That was when she had first noticed one of the things that she especially liked about Sven: when his honesty clashed with his ego, he chose the honesty and was willing to sacrifice his ego. She still remembered his admission that he had disliked Ace Artin ‘for about five minutes’ and she still found that endearing.
They each worked on the remnants of their food in silence for a time. Gerri thought about the dress. It was one of two that she had bought thinking of Sven, the other being the sun dress. They were each more daring than her norm. Her sister, Marilyn, had been with her and had advocated for both of them, expressing pleasure that Gerri was stepping out of her conservative mold. Of course, she hadn’t told Marilyn that Sven was a motivating factor… Imagining how he might react, though, had put her in such a good mood that she bought a similar dress for Marilyn—just as bright, but with a more conservative neckline. Thinking of that shopping trip reminded her: “I never told you about the rest of the letter.”
“Please do.” He had a keen desire to learn more about her family and her life in South Carolina—anything that might help him win her hand.
“You know, ignoring my mother’s ulterior motives, I’m glad that Marilyn wrote the letter.” She realized the truth of that only as she spoke. “She gives me more news about the school than my mother did.”
“She goes to the school where you worked?”
Gerri had to smile. “I live in an even smaller town than Juneau. There’s only one high school—with integration anyway.”
“So you saw her during the day?”
Gerri made a wry face. “Only when she couldn’t avoid it. I guess she thought that it wasn’t cool to have a sister working there.” She paused. “Or at least a sister working as a lowly teacher’s aide.”
“Or maybe she was afraid that you would be her mother’s eyes and ears.”
Gerri cocked her head, feeling unexpectedly cheered. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.
“So, how is everything going at the school?”
Gerri hesitated. “As well as can be expected. The first year of integration has been chaotic and stressful, as you can imagine.”
He looked at her assessingly. “I noticed that you and blondie didn’t get along well.”
“That was the least of it. There were fights among the students. I mean, there are always a few, but there were more—and along racial lines. And afterward, the white teachers and administrators invariably believed the white students’ versions of events. That sort of thing.”
Sven wrinkled his nose. What a terrible place to work. And this was the place that Gerri wanted to go back to?
“They even cancelled the football season.”
“More fighting?”
“Some, but injuries in practice were a bigger factor. The old black high school had a much better football program than the white school—that was common knowledge, at least in the black community. So, when they practiced together, in that atmosphere of stress and frustration…”
“They took it out on each other—and since the black kids were better at it, the white kids started getting hurt.”
“Yes, that’s about it. They weren’t consciously trying to hurt them, but they didn’t realize their own power.”
Sven’s expression was bleak. “I know that syndrome—all too well.”
Gerri did a double take, and then she knew… She put her hand on his arm. “Sven, Ronaldo doesn’t hold that against you at all. In fact, Elaine told me that it was lucky in a strange way, because it turned Ronaldo in a different direction into a better, more lasting career.”
Gerri studied his face. He didn’t look completely convinced. She hurried on. “Anyway, the letter wasn’t all bad news. Marilyn said that they’re having a poetry contest. She’s even thinking of entering.”
Sven cheered up markedly. In fact, he looked almost mischievous as he asked, “Did you hear that some poets are demanding to be paid according to the quantity of their output? Isn’t that perverse?”
Gerri blinked, trying to cope with the sudden change of subject. “Uhh, it sounds a little unreasonable, maybe, but I wouldn’t call it perverse.”
Sven grinned triumphantly. “But of course it is! If their output is verses and they’re paid according to their output, then it’s ‘per verse.’”
Caught again… Gerri swatted his hand, but didn’t even try to conceal her smile. “To think; just a minute ago I was trying to cheer you up.”
Sven looked at her with an almost wistful expression. “Maybe bad word plays are my way of trying to cheer you up.” He paused and his gaze dropped. “I guess that doesn’t work, huh?”
Gerri stared at him as he seemed to study the tablecloth. If Wally was right, then Sven’s wordplays meant that he was happy. If Sven was happy, then so was Gerri. She squeezed his hand. “It works, Sven. It definitely works.”
___
As they got back to Sven’s house, they paused on the porch to look back at the city lights.
“I’ve never seen so much snow in my life,” Gerri said wonderingly.
“This is nothing; there’ll probably be a couple of feet by morning. Looks like you’re getting your first real snowfall.”
“It’s so beautiful. And it’s so quiet.”
“Yes, it is. I think that the heavy snow in the air muffles the sounds.”
Gerri continued to stare at the vista. She wanted to memorize all of this magical night. Maybe someday I’ll sit on my porch in South Carolina and remember all of this… Belatedly, she realized that Sven had left her side and moved toward the front door.
He looked back at her speculatively. “Changed your mind?”
She shook her head vigorously. “No, not at all. It’s just…” She wasn’t about to tell him about her rather depressing daydream. “It’s just so peaceful.”
She turned and followed him inside. They had barely closed the door when he swept her up into his arms. She put her arms around his neck and drew his head down for a scorching kiss. She loved the feel of his lips and probed with her tongue. When he felt it, he held her tighter and deepened the kiss. She strained against him, but the thickness of their heavy coats muted the sensation.
She stepped back to remove hers. Thinking about what lay ahead, she wanted to clear the air. “Just so you know, I saw Mindy’s doctor and got a birth control pill prescription within a few days after we talked about my writing my mother about the promise.”
Sven beamed. “Wonderful.”
___
Sven was rather proud of himself as he followed Gerri up the stairs to the master bedroom. He had been a gentleman—mostly—throughout their date. He had needed to prove this to himself: that he had grown up and could conduct himself accordingly, even in the face of severe provocation. And make no mistake—Gerri was just that. It took all of his self-control to wait for the reward that he anticipated at the top of the stairs.
At the same time, he was amused with the whole situation. He was trying so hard to be proper, and Gerri was being so understanding. Or he hoped she was; he would be crushed if she simply didn’t share his sense of urgency.
Also amusing to him was the superficiality of his decency. There was no nicer sight to him than the movement of her backside as she climbed the stairs. He had carefully positioned himself four steps behind her. From his carpentry experience, he calculated that this put him a bit more than 30 inches below her—a perfect vantage point from which to admire her. Briefly—very briefly—he wondered if she would be impressed with his putting math to what he considered to be a very practical use, but he decided that it would be exceedingly imprudent to ask her.
Gerri could feel Sven’s eyes on her as she climbed the stairs. She was sore tempted to put a little extra wiggle into her motion as she climbed. After all, she was as anxious as he was for the love-making that was soon to come. And she loved knowing (except for the misunderstan
ding in her parents’ yard in South Carolina) that he was truly attracted to her.
But that wouldn’t be fair. Sven was fighting his own demons—seeking to prove to himself, if to no one else, that he had matured since his high school days and could behave like a responsible man. He had certainly succeeded in Gerri’s eyes. In fact, she might have worried that he was a bit too staid, had she not had such glowing memories of last summer’s affair. Oh, yes! The man was more than capable of passion that could set her on fire.
When Gerri stepped into Sven’s bedroom, she turned around and looked at him expectantly. He grinned and gave her a self-mocking salute. “Permission to ravish you, ma’am?”
Gerri laughed and ran into his arms. After a kiss that left him breathless, she put her lips up to his ear and whispered, “Yes, sailor. Unless I ravish you first.”
Then she nipped his ear and ran her hands up and down his back. She loved the feel of his powerful body. She remembered her first impression of him as a concrete block of a man. That had been wrong. Concrete was too coarse to describe Sven. He was a marble statue of a man—worthy of being displayed in a museum. The thought of Sven on display au natural made her feel warm all over.
Sven had reached the limit of his endurance. All he could think about was Gerri—the way she looked and the way she moved. His hands moved fumblingly to the zipper at the back of her dress.
Gerri pulled away. “No, wait.”
“Too fast?”
She shook her head and smiled. This was not one of her sweet, dimply smiles that he so loved. This was a slow, seductive smile. “No, that’s not it. But the zipper sticks and…”
Now Sven grinned. “And you don’t want me to rip the dress off your body.”
Gerri pretended to consider. “Actually, that might be interesting. But I don’t want to ruin it.” She looked at him with a flirtatious grin. “Especially now that I know how much you like it.” She turned around in his arms and said, “Now try the zipper—carefully.”
The dress came off without difficulty and Gerri draped it over a chair. Sven pulled her against him from behind. He buried his face in the nape of her neck and ran his hands over the front of her body, with special attention to her breasts. As he caressed her nipples through her bra, Gerri felt the need to feel Sven’s naked body. She turned around in his arms, but before she could start unbuttoning his shirt, Sven made a noise deep in his throat and, with one hand, quickly unclasped her bra.
Gerri gasped in surprise. “That was…breathtakingly efficient. Have you practiced that move a lot?”
“Not really,” he laughed. “But I’d be glad to start practicing if you’d let me practice on you.” He bent his head and closed his mouth over her nipple.
Gerri felt limp as she gave herself up to sensation. “It’s been so long,” she murmured. She tried to undo his slacks, but the nips, licks, and tugs on her breasts robbed her of her coordination. Sven used one hand to help her with his clothes and then stepped back to finish the job as Gerri did likewise. She was gratified to see that he was breathing heavily and so obviously desired her.
He turned her around again and started caressing her breasts again. Her nipples were hard with arousal, and she sighed in contentment. Sven’s arousal pressed aggressively against her, heightening her sense of anticipation.
“You like this?” Sven growled in her ear.
“Mmmm,” was all she could manage in reply.
“I’ll consider it my sacred duty to accommodate you whenever you so desire.”
One of his hands roamed lower, stroking the growing moistness at the top of her thighs. Gerri was impatient now and started to speak. “Sven, let’s…” But he had anticipated her urgency and, twisting, tumbled them both onto the bed. She fleetingly worried about her weight landing on top of him, but he didn’t seem to notice. They both laughed as they briefly wrestled for a comfortable position. When they had settled—Gerri on her back and Sven on his side next to her—she looked into his eyes as she reached out and squeezed his arousal. Mine! She thought with satisfaction.
“Yours,” Sven said with conviction. Gerri stared at him. Had she said that aloud? So much for dignity… Then coherent thought departed as he again caressed the softness between her legs.
In less than a minute, she could feel herself coming to climax. “Now, Sven,” she panted. “I’m ready.”
“Soon,” he answered, continuing his ministrations to her sensitive core. She could no longer muster a response. Just as she thought that she couldn’t hold out any longer, he moved onto her and entered her with one smooth, powerful stroke. She gave a long groan of satisfaction.
He started thrusting in and out, breathing heavily as he did so. Gerri pushed back against him vigorously and ground her hips. Soon, she felt him quicken his pace. She held on tighter and was soon pushed over the edge. As she climaxed with a cry, she felt him release inside her with his own triumphant roar.
They lay, panting and slick with sweat in the aftermath. She clung to him tightly to keep him inside her. After a minute, she maneuvered—ever so carefully—to climb on top of him. “I don’t want to lose you,” she explained unnecessarily. Once in place, she ground against him.
“You don’t give a guy much rest.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” he grunted. Sure enough, he was soon matching her stroke for stroke. She looked him in the eye as they moved together. He raised his arms to massage her breasts as they moved, watching with pleasure as her eyes grew unfocused. As she reached another climax, he took her hips in his hands and moved her rhythmically until he, too, was there.
Much later, they lay in each other’s arms and waited for sleep to take them. “I’ve missed this so much,” Gerri said softly.
“So have I, my love. So have I.”
Later yet, Sven muttered, “I promise that I won’t tell anyone that we had sex on our first date.”
Gerri snorted as she considered how to respond. Was that a word play? Not exactly, but he deserves something… “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she finally said. “It shows that you have an important quality for a man living on the last frontier.”
“What’s that?”
“A well-developed survival instinct.”
___
Gerri woke to the sound of the wind howling. She was curious about how much snow there was, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up and look out the window—she just felt so snug cuddled next to Sven—the best heating pad ever. Said heating pad moved in his sleep and Gerri moved with him, maximizing the contact of their bodies.
As she lay there, she tried to plan their morning. She would make a special breakfast and then, if the snowfall was impressive, she wanted to go outside and experience it firsthand. That would help with the soreness that she felt after last night’s lovemaking. Not that she was complaining—in fact, she wriggled with delight as she remembered…
“You’re full of energy.”
“Sorry, I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you up?”
“I think that you moving against me will always wake me up—and thank goodness for that.” With that he reached for her.
She decided that breakfast and the snow could wait…
Chapter 42
The next three months were happy ones for Sven. He and Gerri spent as much time together as her schedule allowed. She became a frequent, albeit discreet, overnight guest. They had even, on that first weekend, made a snowman in his yard. The biggest storm of the season had dropped about thirty inches and Gerri had been mesmerized. He still smiled when he remembered her entreaties. “Come on, Sven. I’ve made only one snowman in my whole life. And that one was about five inches tall. There wasn’t enough snow to make it any bigger.”
Still, achieving this happiness required him to adopt a selective tunnel vision. Gerri refused to talk about the future beyond the end of the school year, other than making it clear that she felt the pull of South Carolina—both of her family and of the need to be a pa
rt of the struggle for change.
He still had the engagement ring that he had bought with the bonus from the infamous hunting trip. It was safely tucked away and, of course, Gerri didn’t know about it. She might well never find out about it. Sven had considered—and still hadn’t ruled out—a last minute proposal. But, given her knowledge of his desires and her obvious discomfort with the whole subject, that might simply stoke her resentment and poison their relationship.
That friendship was important to him for its own sake. And it gave him an excuse to stay in touch if Gerri should decide to leave. Who knew? He was almost thirty and he knew his mind, but she was young. Was it possible that someday she would see things differently? That Juneau—and Sven—would seem more attractive in a few years? He could tell that she enjoyed her job. And she had made it abundantly clear that she was more than fond of him—even though she had never mentioned love.
A few years. He smiled again, a bit bitterly, as he rolled that around in his mind. Not likely, really. More likely that she would meet some young man down there. Someone close to her age and who shared her interests. And who was not a jerk, he added, remembering Thurman. There would undoubtedly be numerous men who would appreciate Gerri as she deserved.
He shook his head to clear it of these thoughts. Brooding wasn’t going to help. He picked up his brush and returned to the painting he had been working on, clamping his tunnel vision firmly back into place.
___
What was a life made of ? Gerri wondered this, not for the first time. Her work was challenging, occasionally frustrating, but mostly rewarding. Her friendships were satisfying, even though those with the other teachers were primarily ‘school’ friendships—her busyness and her reluctance to flaunt her relationship with Sven kept the evening socializing to a minimum. Wally and the fishing community had accepted her, especially since the appendicitis episode.
Mindy was a true friend. None of the girls that she had known in South Carolina would she trust more. She missed some of them, but kept in touch with occasional letters.
