by L. Langdon
She held out the phone to him. “Ma wants to talk to you.”
Sven wiped his hand on his pants and cautiously took the phone. This made him almost as nervous as the ceremony itself had. “Hello, Mrs. Barton. You certainly have a lovely daughter.”
“Hello, son.” Olivia’s voice seemed softer and more hesitant than Sven had remembered. “You can call me ‘Ma’ or ‘Olivia,’ if you prefer, ‘Mrs. Barton’ seems too formal for family.”
“Yes, Ma’am; I’ll remember that.”
There was a snort of amusement from the other end of the line. “That wasn’t one of the choices, but that’s OK. You’ll get used to it.” She shifted topics abruptly. “So, when are you two going to make me a grandmother?”
Sven froze and then he looked to Gerri for rescue, but she was examining some invisible spot on her dress. “Uhhh, we’re not sure, but not right away. We’d like to get used to living together for a while first.” Gerri’s head jerked up at his answer. Was that the right thing to have said? Or should he have dissembled?
“Don’t wait too long. I want to be young enough to enjoy them.”
“You’ll be young for a long time. We’re not waiting that long.”
Gerri reached for the phone. “Don’t put him on the spot, Ma. For now, we have to work hard and make enough money to pay all of our bills. And we want to prepare for your visit.” With that, she moved smoothly into a discussion of the upcoming visit.
Sven breathed a discrete sigh of relief. His answer had satisfied Gerri at any rate, and that was the most important thing. As their conversation continued, he relaxed in his chair. He loved looking at her. He could feel a painting coalescing in his mind. As he tried to fix the details, he realized how happy he was. It had been years… No, he’d never been this happy. Something that had been tickling his brain for some time suddenly came to the front, and he grinned. I’ll have to remember to tell Gerri…
She finished the conversation and hung up. “Our first phone bill as a married couple is going to be pretty scary.”
Sven just shrugged. “It was worth it.”
“So what were you smiling about there at the end?”
He looked embarrassed. “I thought of a story. Just a joke, really. It’s not important.”
Gerri recalled Wally’s words. When he’s happy… “Tell me.”
“I thought of how to deal with those orange grove freezes that your father talked about.”
Gerri kept a straight face with difficulty. And when he’s happy, I’m happy. “And how is that?” She prompted dutifully.
“Fill up railroad coal cars with soil and plant the orange trees there. You can move them around. If there’s a freeze predicted in Florida, then take them to Texas, and so on.”
That almost—almost—made a weird kind of sense, Gerri thought as she waited for a punch line.
“I’ve even got a name for them.”
“Oh?” Here it comes…
“Meanderin’ Oranges.” He looked at her with an expectant grin.
She made as if to throw a book at him, and then dissolved into laughter. “That’s terrible.”
Chapter 47
As the Glacier Gal motored along, the twilight deepened. The sky was crystal clear. Sven was at the helm with Gerri leaning against him, nestled in his arm. Conversation proceeded in a desultory fashion—each of them thinking back on the day and occasionally pondering the future.
Gerri snuck a look at him, trying to process her good fortune.
Sven caught her staring and grinned. “It’s too late to change your mind.”
She nudged him. “That’s the last thing I want to do. It’s just…hard to believe that all this is real.” She leaned more snugly against his side.
Sven gave her a squeeze. “I’m an incredibly lucky guy.” If anything, he decided that was an understatement. This was how he should feel on his wedding day: euphoric.
“Everyone…” Gerri paused for a brief sigh. “Everyone was so nice to us today. It made the day even more special.”
“Mmm.”
“If Mindy and John end up getting married someday, I want to do something extra special for her.”
“I agree. And I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
After several hours of travel, they stopped in a small harbor to spend the night. Sven dropped the anchor and motioned for Gerri to cut the engine and the running lights. Then, unexpectedly, he stuck his head into the pilot house door and gestured peremptorily, “Come outside and look at this.”
Gerri was surprised. It was too dark to see much—there were no lights outside and no other boats in the harbor. Moonrise was still an hour away and the shore was only dimly visible. But when she stepped outside, she looked up and caught her breath. There was a dazzling blanket of stars. She’d never seen them more brilliant. And to cap it off, there was a dim, but colorful display of northern lights. “Oh, Sven. It’s beautiful.”
He pointed skyward. “The Big Dipper.” His finger moved. “And the North Star.”
This wasn’t the first time that Gerri had been made aware of the special significance of that constellation to Alaskans. “Alaska’s flag,” she murmured. From now on, she thought proudly, it would have the same significance for her. She, too, was an Alaskan.
Sven grinned in the darkness. “I choose to believe that it’s an omen—a sign of good luck for our marriage.”
With that she tore her eyes from the sky and pulled his head down to hers. “I like the way that sounds,” she breathed. Then she captured his lips in a long, tender kiss.
___
Sven was lying on the bed in what he used to call the captain’s cabin. He smiled as he reminded himself that it needed a name change. Co-captain’s cabin? Master stateroom? Whatever—they’d come up with something. With his fingers interlaced behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. Gerri was in the head—probably wishing that she had a normal bathroom. He was patient. After all, he had waited a long time for this day. Gerri would come when she was ready, and whenever she came, she would be magic. Sven had no illusions that he was an expert on women, but even he knew that you don’t hurry a bride on her wedding day.
This knowledge came from intuition, not from experience. In his first marriage, any sense of eagerness or anticipation had long since been washed away by their mutual guilt and stress. He took a moment to regret Laura’s sadly truncated life, but then put that out of his mind. While he earnestly wished that Laura had lived to move on and, perhaps, find a real love of her own, that was the unchangeable past. Gerri was the present—and the future.
It seemed a bit lighter. He glanced at the window in the cabin. The moon was rising and its tendrils of light were peeking into the cabin. A barely audible noise caught his attention. Gerri was easing quietly through the door, naked under a short, diaphanous robe. He caught a tantalizing whiff of something—a perfume that he didn’t recognize, but one that he hoped he would smell again.
“Sorry I took so long. Are you still awake?”
Sven laughed out loud. “You underestimate yourself. I would stay awake all night for you.”
Gerri lowered herself to the bed beside him and ran her hand over his chest. As she touched him, Sven rolled toward her. His hands quickly found the sash of her robe and untied it. His left hand moved slowly—tortuously slowly—up her torso, stopping at her right breast. He paused there, rubbing her nipple until it hardened deliciously. She gripped his arm and pulled him closer for a much-wanted kiss.
The kiss lingered, their tongues dancing together, and Gerri moved her hand to his chest. She felt a faint vibration and realized that he was humming almost inaudibly—a sound of his male satisfaction.
He then abandoned the kiss and moved his head downward, tugging lightly on her other nipple. She arched her back and gave an involuntary hiss of satisfaction. Then his hand moved back down her body and caressed her at the apex of her thighs. She knew that she wouldn’t last long under this treatment, so she rolled up to sit on
top of him. With both hands, she kneaded his torso, then quickly fixated on his now rampant manhood.
She rubbed its tip against her sex and positioned it for entry. Sven didn’t need any more encouragement. With a sudden movement of his hips, he sheathed himself in her. His inaudible hum changed abruptly to a pleased growl as he moved rhythmically—and Gerri moved with him. Their first climax happened quickly, and Gerri rode the waves of sensation, which seemed to go on and on.
Much later, with the moon high in the sky, they lingered near sleep—too tired to stay awake, but unwilling to say goodbye to the day. Gerri roused herself one last time. “You know what? This bed was the start of our romantic life and now it’s the start of our married life.”
“Mmm,” said Sven. Gerri almost felt the vibration in his chest rather than hearing him. “I like that.” That was his last waking statement.
When they got underway the next morning, Sven still wouldn’t name their destination. He had promised to take her to a ‘secret place’ which he assured her was magical. Gerri couldn’t resist taking this as a challenge, and she followed their progress on a chart. At one point, she looked up from the chart and laughed. “Sumdum? I’m surprised you haven’t made a pun out of that.”
Sven put on an injured look. “That’s too easy. I have standards, you know.”
Gerri feigned astonishment. “Oh, really? No, I didn’t know that.”
He chuckled. “Watch out, wench. You’re going to get what you deserve.”
She leaned into him and fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, I hope so.”
He put his arm around her and held her there. As she rested comfortably against him, she reflected on another of the many reasons that she loved Sven. She felt able to be bold around him, knowing that he found her beautiful—and respected her completely at the same time.
They were working their way slowly up a long arm of the sea. And there were icebergs—more than Gerri had ever seen. They were so thick that the Glacier Gal had to creep along, sometimes barely above idling speed, to avoid damage to the boat.
Another look at the chart and she knew their destination. She teasingly protested. “Ford’s Terror? That doesn’t sound magical to me.”
He was obviously pleased with her deduction. He grinned happily and said, “But it is. You’ll see. And very few people ever come here.”
She believed him completely—his judgment was impeccable in these matters—but she wasn’t willing to stop teasing. “I suppose that Ford didn’t find it too magical.”
“I suppose not. I’d love to know how it got its name. Evidently, Ford wasn’t properly prepared.” He turned serious momentarily. “As we’ve both found, Alaska has an abundance of magical places which can kill you if you’re not prepared.”
Soon they were anchored and Sven announced, “We’re going ashore for a picnic.” Their anchorage was near one of the only flat areas in sight. A landing, let alone a picnic, would be impossible anywhere else, as the mountains rose steeply from the sea.
Gerri knew that there was more to this than just a picnic, but she resolved to let his surprise unfold on his terms. “It’s very pretty. The steep mountains remind me of the pictures of Norwegian fjords.”
Sven nodded and gestured vaguely. “It’s even better further in. We’ll see that later.” They walked through a grove of trees and came to the bank of a rushing river. He made a fire and brought out hotdogs and marshmallows. “See if you can figure out anything strange about that,” he said, gesturing to the river rapids in front of her.
Gerri accepted the puzzle and studied the rapids. To her right—upstream—she could see what appeared to be an extension of the inlet where they had anchored. To her left, a towering cliff forced the river into a right turn, after which (ahead of her) it flowed into a large still body of water. A lake? “Wait a minute! How can a river be flowing downstream from sea level?”
“Excellent! You’ve found the strangeness. You’ll figure out why soon. Now come and eat.” Gerri enjoyed being spoiled—it was rare for Sven to cook for her nowadays. She enjoyed even more what came afterwards. Sven spread out a tarp on one of the rare patches of soft sand and put a folded blanket on the corner nearest to his head. They made slow, sweet, passionate love and then snuggled under the blanket to relax. This was an excellent part of the adventure; she would never have imagined that she would ever make love outdoors.
But the puzzle still intrigued her. After they had relaxed for a while in a post-coital glow, she took another look at the ‘river.’ To her astonishment, it had slowed its flow dramatically. There were only a few eddies of slow moving water where before there had been rapids. While she was processing this, Sven finished cleaning away the traces of their presence and came up behind her.
“I think it’s OK for us to go through now.”
That clicked in her mind. She turned quickly toward him. “This isn’t a river at all, is it?”
Sven smiled. “No, it’s not. But what is it?”
She thought furiously. He had said something last summer… “It’s the tide, isn’t it? And it’s trying to fill the inlet behind it.”
Now he grinned happily. “Right! And it’s so strong, that the Glacier Gal would be thrown against that cliff if we’d tried to pass through before.” He gestured to the right angle. “Now we can get in, although it still won’t be easy.”
“And getting out again?”
“We’ll wait for another slack tide tomorrow.”
The wait was worth it. Once they were inside, the mountains became outright cliffs. It was the most spectacular scene she had ever seen. Surely none of the national parks could be more so. Between the scenery and the peaceful quiet, Gerri felt as though she and Sven occupied their own dream world.
But the real world could not be denied for long. The following day they left Ford’s Terror and headed toward the main channel. The icebergs were less thick, so they made good time. When they were back in familiar waters, Sven looked at Gerri and raised his eyebrows. “Time to start paying the bills?”
Gerri nodded and, just that simply, their honeymoon was over and it was time to start fishing. By now she knew that, contrary to Mindy’s belief, Sven was not cheap. He just hated being in debt. If he couldn’t pay for something, he would do without, but he was willing to plan and work tirelessly for those things which mattered. Now what mattered to both of them was to make enough extra money to help pay for her family’s visit.
___
They had a good season. They worked hard for it, but they were able to set aside enough extra money to finance the Barton’s entire visit. Gerri didn’t think of herself as greedy, but it gave her immense satisfaction to see how healthy the ‘Halvorsen family accounts’ were. Sven, citing her math talents, had asked her to be the official family accountant. Gerri suspected that he could have handled it just as well, but she was happy to help.
Two events stood out during the summer. The first occurred after several weeks of fishing, when they decided to attend the Pelican town dance again. They attended partly to create a new family tradition, but partly because they had genuinely enjoyed the last one. There was a considerable difference in people’s reactions to Gerri this year. Last year, she had gotten a lot of curious looks, but, other than Ace Artin and Edwin John, no one actually attempted to say hello. This year, there was a steady stream of people who introduced themselves and offered their congratulations. The bush telegraph, as she had come to know it, was operating with its usual efficiency.
But the most welcome introduction of all came when they saw Edwin John sitting at a table—apparently babysitting the crew of his boat again. Next to him was a woman whose brown face was wreathed in smiles. Edwin waved Gerri and Sven to his table. “Come on and sit down. Gerri, meet my wife Ellen. Ellen, this is Gerri Halvorsen.” He emphasized her last name with some amusement.
When the greetings were over and everyone was comfortably seated, Gerri teased Edwin. “I’m surprised you remembered me after seeing me only o
nce and that a year ago.”
“Oh, I remembered. Sven was guarding you so carefully. We laughed about it later.” He gestured to include Ellen. “So we weren’t really surprised to hear about your marriage.”
Sven smiled shamefacedly. Had he been that obvious? He turned to Ellen to change the subject. “It’s good to see you again. So you’ve taken to the fishing life?”
Ellen laughed gaily. “No, but he promised me a short trip. I just wanted to come to this dance.”
“Really?” Gerri looked around the hall. She enjoyed the dance, but in no way was it worth a trip all by itself.
Ellen laughed again. It seemed to be her most natural expression. “Not for the dance itself. I came to meet the woman who tamed Sven.”
Gerri looked down at the table. She couldn’t meet Sven’s eyes because she knew that he would say something outrageous. “I don’t think that he’s capable of being tamed, but…” Now she found the courage to peek at him and smile mischievously. “I guess I’ll find out.” He didn’t reply, but the look that he gave her made her face get hot.
“So,” Ellen continued, “are you starting a family?”
“Not yet.” Sven answered quickly. “We want to live together alone for a while. Get to know each other before we pile on any added stress.” Gerri nodded her agreement. Her reasons were a bit different—she wanted to get a better feeling for what life would be like for a mixed race child before they committed themselves.
Ellen moved on to lighter subjects. She was an easy person to talk to. By the end of the evening, Gerri felt as though she had known her for years. Ellen provided an interesting perspective for Gerri, as she was living in a town which made even Juneau seem like a big city. Before they left, she extracted a promise from Gerri to visit.
The second event of note came about a month later, at the end of a long and hard, but very profitable, stretch of fishing. They had used the long summer daylight and had worked several 18 hour days in a row. It wasn’t masochism driving them—the fish were biting in such large numbers that they couldn’t resist augmenting the family finances. After they had sold their latest catch, Gerri couldn’t think of anything but her sore muscles and rest—lots of it. When Sven left the dock, she assumed that he was headed back to Juneau.
