Oslo Overtures

by Marion Ueckermann

  He hadn’t thought what he’d say, how he’d ask about Anjelica. He couldn’t very well open with, “Hi there, I’m a wingsuiter, and I’ve fallen in love with your daughter. When will she be at work, or do you know where I can find her? She ran out on me.”

  He’d order an early dinner. A good place to start. Perhaps Anjelica’s mother would strike up a conversation with him. But what if her mother didn’t speak English? He’d heard some strange dialects in this country already.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

  Mrs. Joergensen placed a menu down on the table in front of Kyle and smiled. “God kveld.”

  Kyle returned the smile she offered. “Uh, hello.”

  “Ah, a foreigner? Pardon my mother-tongue greeting.”

  A pang of regret stabbed him. If only his first encounter with Anjelica had been this cordial.

  “What can I get for you? Something to eat? Something to drink?”

  “I’ll look at the menu for a moment, but water would be great.”

  “You’re not a drinking man? No beer?”

  Kyle shook his head.

  “That is good. Still or sparkling?”

  Another pang—the first time he’d sat down and spoken to Anjelica, the first time he’d kissed her. “Still, please.”

  With a nod, she left, returning soon with a bottle and a glass. “Where are you from?”

  “New Zealand.”

  “You are a far way from home. What brings you to Stryn? Summer skiing? River rafting? Slopeflying? The glaciers?”

  Many things…only one mattered. But now was not the time to tell her.

  “Wingsuit flying. You have the most beautiful mountains and fjords.”

  “We do. You were here for the bigway in Oslo? We have been inundated with fliers from all over the world this past week.”

  Kyle nodded. “Yes, I was. We were in Kjerag last week.” He sipped his water. His nerves had dried his mouth. He’d not expected the conversation to turn in his favor this fast.

  “My daughter is a wingsuiter, too. She flew lead in the Oslo bigway. Perhaps you met her? Anjelica Joergensen?”

  Kyle took a deep breath and smiled wide.

  15

  Kyle filled the hours that week in Stryn with flying. When he wasn’t flying, he searched for work. With the prospect of no sponsorship looming for possibly two years, he needed to supplement his income if he was to remain in Norway. Four days had passed, and nothing. Two days left in Stryn didn’t leave much time to find employment.

  He still had no idea where Anjelica was, and her parents weren’t saying a word. For all he knew, she was right under his nose, hiding at home.

  But he trusted God to find him work and the woman he loved.

  His nights had been spent in the Joergensens’s restaurant with Luke, Erick, and the Kjerag wingsuiters. Each night, after the others left, he stayed to chat with Anjelica’s parents. He’d help clean in the kitchen and prep for breakfast the following day. Seemed they hadn’t been prepared for Anjelica’s extended absence.

  Trailed by his usual entourage of high fliers, Kyle stepped inside the restaurant for his fifth dinner in as many days. Anjelica’s mother stood at the door to welcome them.

  “God kveld, Mrs. Joergensen,” Kyle greeted.

  “Mrs. J!” Luke held his hand up to give her a high-five. She’d learned what was expected of her when Luke greeted. She slapped her palm to Luke’s in the air.

  “Kyle. Luke. It’s good to see you…again.” She grabbed a handful of menus, greeting the Norwegians in their own language, and followed them to the table they always occupied. She slid a menu in front of them each and armed herself with pen and paper, ready to take their drinks order. “And how was the flying today?”

  “It was fantastic, as always,” Kyle replied.

  A guffaw blasted out from Luke. “That’s because you landed amongst your favorite fleecy friends today, Sheppard.”

  Kyle clipped the back of Luke’s head.

  “Baa…” Luke’s response was followed by peals of laughter from around the table.

  Mrs. Joergensen joined in with a giggle, her gaze begging Kyle for an explanation.

  “I landed in a field of sheep.” He narrowed is eyes at Luke. “We all did.”

  Luke clicked his tongue. “Sheppard, you know that’s not the whole story.” The Norwegians joined the banter, jesting Kyle in their native tongue.

  Luke turned to Anjelica’s mother, laughing so hard he could barely speak. He took a deep breath. “A flock of sheep wandered onto our drop zone. We were all dodging them as we landed. White dots scattered, then regrouped. Here’s where it gets weird. As they came together, they turned and began to follow Kyle.”

  Mrs. Joergensen brought her hand to her mouth and gasped. “No. Kyle? Our Spælsau like you?”

  “Of course they do, Mrs. J.” Luke interrupted before Kyle could answer. “He grew up amongst the bleating beasts.”

  “Really?” She turned to Kyle, a glint in her eyes. “You never told me that.”

  “He doesn’t like to talk about his sheep, Mrs. J. Thinks it stereotypes him.” That set Luke off in another bout of laughter.

  Anjelica’s mother grabbed Kyle’s hand. “Come. I need to talk with you.” She hauled him off into the back office. “So, explain.” She ignored the fact that her husband was seated behind the desk.

  A puzzled expression crossed Mr. Joergensen’s face. He set his pen down, obviously eager to see what the intrusion was about.

  Kyle swept a hand through his hair. “Nothing to explain, really.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “My family owns a sheep ranch on the south island of New Zealand near Christchurch. That’s all.”

  The look on her face told Kyle his answer hadn’t satisfied.

  “I grew up on that ranch, did everything a rancher would do, from raising to shepherding to breeding to shearing. The works.”

  “So you know sheep.” Her voice thickened with excitement.

  “I know sheep. Why?”

  Without answering, she picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a number.

  “Johansen,” she squealed into the mouthpiece. “Have I got a Sheppard for you.”

  Mr. Joergensen looked on amused, then shrugged his shoulders. Was he as confused as Kyle?

  “Uh-huh. Tomorrow is fine. Eight AM. Yes. God natt.” She replaced the receiver on the cradle, her smile a crescent moon.

  “You have an interview tomorrow morning.” She clasped Kyle’s elbow and herded him toward the door. “Best we get back inside. I’ve a table of hungry men waiting for me to take their order.”

  “How—”

  “I wish you’d told me your background earlier. Old farmer Johansen has been looking for someone to take over managing his sheep farm. You could handle that?”

  Could he ever. He’d run the ranch side by side with his dad…before he’d taken up wingsuiting. Still, whenever he was home, he resumed his old roles.

  Mrs. Joergensen stopped at the bar counter. “Wait.” She pulled out the pen and paper from her apron and scribbled something. She tore it off the pad, folded it, and handed the note to Kyle.

  He opened it and read. What? “Is this—”

  “That’s where Anjelica is staying in Oslo. You’ll find her there.”

  “Thank you.” He leaned and kissed her cheek.

  “Don’t thank me, thank Erick.”

  “Erick?”

  “Yes. He called just before you all arrived tonight. Told me that you were someone we could trust, that you love our daughter. Is that so?”

  “She means everything to me.”

  “Erick wants her to find happiness again, and believes she can with you.” The crescent moon returned to her lips. “So do I.”

  Kyle slipped the note into his jeans pocket, unable to stop the sigh that escaped. How good to know his friend harbored no grudge.

  It took all Kyle’s strength not to leave Stryn that very moment.
<
br />   ~*~

  Saturday could not come soon enough for Kyle, but when the weekend finally dawned, it did so with promise.

  Mr. Johansen had hired Kyle on the spot and given him a week to get his affairs in order. He said he needed someone to manage his livestock sooner rather than later.

  Kyle glanced at Luke, staring out the side window of their rental, watching the Norwegian countryside slip past. He was going to miss this crazy Kiwi.

  Luke opened the window and leaned against the door. The wind ruffled his hair, snapping it around in a million directions. He looked at Kyle. “Sheppard, you sure you don’t mind driving me all the way to Oslo? I could catch a train.”

  “And deny me the opportunity to see the woman I love sooner? Besides, I can do with the practice of driving on the opposite side of the road.”

  “Eight hours is a lot of practice, Bro.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to avoid these last few hours with me. You scared of goodbyes, old friend?”

  “Humph. Luke Maskil isn’t scared of anything.”

  “Yeah, right. What about that time—”

  “I’m going to miss being your wingman, that’s all,” Luke snapped. He eyed Kyle. “So you’re really going back to the lands, Bro? Planting your feet on solid ground?” Kyle knew Luke found it hard to comprehend that he wouldn’t be returning home with him.

  “For now.” He placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I love her, Maskil. You know how long I’ve waited. I won’t give up without a fight.”

  A somber silence descended when Kyle pulled in at Oslo International Airport, promising not to leave even after Luke had checked in. As they walked to departures, Luke attempted to lighten the mood. “This has been radical, Bro. Some of the best jumps I’ve ever done.” He wrapped his arms around Kyle. A final bear hug. “I promise I’ll visit Norway. Lots. Maybe when I return, you can take me to that church with the cool preacher?”

  “Will I have to fly across the fjord again?”

  “Not this time, Sheppard.” He picked up his backpack and swung it across his shoulder. “Why did you go through with it? You could’ve backed out.”

  Kyle shook his head. “I’m a man of my word. And your soul is important to me. If I hadn’t kept my word, would you have been interested in going to church again?”

  “Probably not.”

  Kyle gripped Luke’s shoulders, then drew him close. “Take care, Maskil. And don’t wait until you get back here to go to church. There are many cool preachers at home, too.”

  Luke dipped his head.

  “And, Luke, you can concentrate on your own love life now.”

  Luke grinned as he walked toward passport control.

  Kyle waited until his friend gave a final wave and disappeared amongst other travelers scurrying to get to their boarding gates. He returned to the car with a heavy heart.

  Seated inside the rental, he opened the note Anjelica’s mother had given him and read the address again. He resisted the urge to go there, and punched the city center hotel address into the satellite navigation system instead. Tired from the drive, and with the hope that tomorrow’s plans would work, sleep came easy.

  When his wristwatch alarm heralded a new day, Kyle jumped out of bed.

  The Sabbath. No way he wanted to miss this morning’s service.

  As he walked into church an hour later, his heart pounded harder than it had when he flew across the Oslofjord. What if she wasn’t there? What if she didn’t want to come with him afterward? He hoped the plans he’d made would sweep Anjelica off her feet, but what if it all backfired?

  Near the front of the church, long blond hair glistened in a shaft of light filtering through a side window. She’s here. And the seat to her left was still vacant. Thank you, Jesus.

  As Pastor Adam Carter opened the service in prayer, Kyle tiptoed up the side aisle and sat beside Anjelica. He didn’t close his eyes. For two weeks he’d tried to keep her image fresh in his mind, but seeing her fine porcelain features once again, her delicate hands, her soft pink lips…she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn’t stop himself from drinking in the sight of her. How he’d missed her.

  At the Amen, Anjelica glanced in his direction. She started, but there was no mistaking the emotion behind the smile that followed her surprise. Yes! She was happy to see him.

  Kyle grasped her hand. Like a lifeline, she held on the entire service, much to the amusement of the grinning man seated on the other side of her. Most surely, Ralf.

  “I have somewhere I’d like to take you after church,” Kyle whispered during the final chorus. “Come with me?”

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

  After being introduced to Ralf, and greeting Adam and Eveliina, Kyle and Anjelica hopped into his rental and drove away, headed toward the fjord.

  Kyle parked the sedan in front of the City Hall Pier. He was thankful they didn’t have to wait long to board a ferry. He couldn’t keep putting off answering her questions.

  “Where are we going?” Anjelica asked above the noise of the engine.

  “I still owe you a breakfast.”

  “You owe me a dessert, too.”

  He swept her into his arms, and as his lips claimed hers, he reminded her what she’d been missing. He’d waited over two weeks for this kiss, and he intended to make it worthwhile. Without a doubt in his mind, Anjelica had been anxiously awaiting it, too. “How’s that for starters?”

  Her mouth parted in a smile. “Delicious.”

  As the boat headed closer to Dyna lighthouse, Anjelica’s grip around him tightened. Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious? How can you think of coming back to this place where you nearly—” She choked on the word.

  Kyle tightened his embrace. “If you’re ever going to overcome a fear, you need to return to the place of your fear.”

  Would she realize he spoke more of her fear to love another wingsuiter, than his own traumatic experience in these cold waters? Would she understand that in falling for him, she’d conquer the fear she’d clung to for so many years?

  He chuckled. “Besides, there’s no turning back now. It cost me an arm and a leg to hire this place for our exclusive use.”

  She gazed into his eyes. “As long as it didn’t cost you a wingsuit again.”

  He buried his face in her hair and whispered in her ear, his voice husky. “Do you know that I’ve fallen in love with you?”

  She stroked his cheek, then smoothed his hair over his ear, her eyes bright with emotion. “And I with you.”

  Those were the four sweetest words he’d ever heard.

  Epilogue

  The seasons had come and gone with summer waiting around the corner once more. Actually, more like hiding. It had been far warmer this time last year. Then again, Anjelica and Kyle had been a lot further south.

  Their walk up the mountain was exhilarating. Fresh air stung Anjelica’s cheeks. They couldn’t go much higher; they had to make it back down before darkness set in. And it took a whole lot longer on foot than by air.

  Tonight the sky was her color. She loved these blushing sunsets. “Isn’t that beautiful?” Holding Kyle’s hand, she turned to him. “Pink sky at night, Sheppard’s delight.”

  He rubbed his nose against hers. “Don’t you mean red sky at night?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not talking about sheep.”

  He grinned. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

  They sat on a flat rock overlooking the fjord and the town of Stryn. Anjelica leaned into Kyle’s arms as their feet dangled over the edge. “Do you miss it?”

  “Home?”

  “No silly, flying.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess not being able to compete made the decision easier.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you?”

  She nodded and tipped her head upward, planting a kiss on his cheek. “But it won’t be that much longer.” She twirled the thin gold band around
her finger. “Thank you for taking this sabbatical year with me. I know I’ve told you before, but I’m going to say it again—you didn’t have to hang up your wings, too.”

  Kyle placed his hand on Anjelica’s tummy and gently rubbed it. She was barely beginning to show. “Oh yes, I did.”

  “You’re going to be an amazing dad.”

  She gazed across the skies. She missed the freedom of flying.

  They hadn’t spoken of it yet, but when the time came, would they be able to deny their children the incredible privilege of human flight? What better gift could they give their offspring than to allow them to touch the clouds, to feel the warmth of the sun on their faces as their fingers skimmed the cool moistness of a cumulonimbus cloud?

  Anjelica doubted it. “Do you think we’ll teach him to fly?”

  Kyle stroked his hands across her hair. “Absolutely. Soon as we can, we’re kicking him out of the nest and teaching him to spread his wings.”

  She stopped playing with her ring and twined her fingers around his. “And if he’s a she? Will you teach your daughter to fly, too?” she challenged with a smile.

  Kyle’s dark eyes bore into hers. “Of course.” His solemn face suddenly morphed into a grin. His eyes lit up. “I promise…the day she turns forty.”

  Anjelica flung her head back. Her laughter echoed through the surrounding mountains. She closed her eyes and breathed deep of the fresh air, thankful that the One who watched over them, who numbered their days, was the One who painted the skies both blue and pink.

  End note

  “Year after year, loss after loss, after every incident I see or experience, I keep coming back to the way my late life partner and best friend, Eric ‘Tonto’ Stephenson, defined Blue Skies/Black Death before his own passing. We are all fragile. I’m grateful for every breath I get to take, but especially those in the sky with people I love. I live for the moments that, no matter what follows, can never be taken away.” ~ Taya Weiss