East of the Sun, West of the Moon

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  Belgrave House

  www.belgravehouse.com

  Copyright ©2002 by Carole Bellacera

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  East of the Sun, West of the Moon

  Carole Bellacera

  "Still round the corner you may wait

  A new road or a secret gate;

  And though I oft have passed them by,

  A day will come at last when I

  Shall take the hidden paths that run

  West of the Moon, East of the Sun."

  —J.R.R. Tolkien, “The Lord of the Rings"

  Part One—East of the Sun

  Chapter 1

  July 1989

  "Mark, you have truly lost your mind."

  Leigh tossed the flyer back to her nineteen-year-old son. “You don't think I have enough to do? I'm working on deadline to get these illustrations to Ellen. Aaron's scout troop sees me so much they're considering me for membership, and Mel has me running a chauffeur service between here and the mall. And now, you want me to host a Scandinavian exchange student for an entire year?"

  Mark gave her his famous pleading puppy-dog look, one he knew she was susceptible to. “It would be great for my sociology class. Think of what it could teach me to have a foreign student living with us."

  Leigh sighed and turned back to her drawing table. “That argument might wash if we were talking about a student from Zimbabwe.” She darkened the outline of a plump rabbit with her charcoal. “But Scandinavia isn't much different from America in culture."

  Mark ran an exasperated hand through his thick, dark brown hair. “Will you at least think about it? You've always talked about how much you want to go to Europe. Having a European in the house would be almost as good as going there."

  "But Mark, a year. That's a long time to have a stranger living with us."

  "He wouldn't be a stranger for long. And if you're worried about his character, you've got to know what it takes to be a graduate exchange student. We're not talking about a slacker here."

  "That's not what I'm worried about.” A wry smile flickered on her lips. “You keep saying ‘he?’ Isn't it possible our house guest could be a girl?"

  "That thought did occur to me.” A teasing light sparkled in Mark's brown eyes. “I've read about those hot Swedish ladies."

  Leigh leaned back and stretched her aching muscles. “Don't believe it. I'm sure all the girls in Sweden aren't blue-eyed blondes with lush bodies."

  "Does this mean you'll think about it?” Mark wore a smug look on his face as if he knew he'd already won.

  It screamed to be wiped away.

  "Your father probably won't go for it. You know how busy he is."

  It worked. The smug look disappeared and frustration replaced it. “That's just the point. He's never here. He's either on the Hill or away on some business trip. He probably wouldn't notice if you moved in a whole army of exchange students."

  "Don't get smart. Anyway, we'll still have to discuss it with him.” Leigh dismissed him, turning back to her sketch. “As soon as I get a chance, I'll mention it."

  His dark eyebrows lowered. “You'll probably have to make an appointment with him."

  "I said I'll talk to him. That's all I can do."

  "Thanks, Mom.” He gave her an endearing smile.

  Leigh felt her heart melt. Mark's smile always did that to her—and he knew it. With an affectionate ruffle of her ash-blond hair, he left the room. She sat for a moment staring at her unfinished illustration. It was for a new children's book due out at Christmas. In another week or two she'd be ready to drop it off to Ellen. The illustrations would appear in Hydra Kouripoulous’ picture book, the last six of which Leigh had been commissioned to illustrate. With the publication of each one, her sense of satisfaction had grown, and even Bob's patronizing attitude towards her “hobby” didn't diminish the accomplishment she felt. Her art was a career to her, but somehow, her husband had never quite accepted that.

  Leigh stood and walked over to the window seat overlooking the gently rolling hills and knolls of Northern Virginia. In the distance among the tall oak trees, she could see one of the attractions of the three acres of land they owned, a flowing brook that meandered through the property and ended with a small cascading waterfall into a rock-carved pool. It was one of her favorite places to sit and read or sketch ... when she had the elusive spare moment.

  With a sigh, she turned from the window. No use putting it off any longer. It was time to put down her pencils and charcoal and go downstairs to start dinner. With one last glance at her unfinished sketch, she descended the winding stairs from the loft studio into the bedroom and jogged downstairs to the kitchen. It was a room which, most of the time, filled her with delight. A spacious country kitchen with an island cook-top and sink. Plenty of cabinet space including a corner Lazy Susan and counters of slate blue Mexican tile to match the flooring. But today, her beautiful and functional kitchen gave her no pleasure. Somehow, Washington's hot humid summers were not conducive to gourmet cooking, even to the most adventurous of chefs.

  But hungry kids were hungry kids, and Leigh was determined they wouldn't live off McDonalds’ hamburgers all summer. As she browned the ground round for lasagna, the back door swung open.

  "Hi, Mom."

  Her ten-year-old son, Aaron, stepped into the kitchen, followed closely by Ivan, the family Golden Retriever.

  "Hi, babe. Close the door. You're letting the hot air in."

  Aaron acknowledged her command by slamming the door fiercely, sending a shaft of pain through her skull.

  "What's for dinner?"

  Leigh glanced at her son. “What've you been doing?"

  Aaron's normally shiny blond hair was dark with sweat and black grime. His face and clothing appeared to be covered with the same gruesome substance.

  "Nathan and me were playing war-games down by the creek,” he said, scratching the back of his filthy neck. “We were killing Arabs."

  Leigh grimaced. Amazing how much he sounded like his father. “Aaron, I don't like hearing things like that from you. It's vulgar and racist, and I won't have it."

  "But Dad says it,” he protested.

  Leigh gritted her teeth. “Like I said, it's vulgar and racist.” I may not be able to stop Bob from spouting off his firebrand politics, but I'll be damned if I have listen to my ten-year-old mimicking him. Aaron shrugged and reached for the cookie canister. Leigh lunged for it, grabbing it first. “No, you don't. It's too close to dinner."

  "Jeez, Mom, I'm starved."

  "Tough. Dinner will be ready in an hour. Why don't you and Nathan go swimming? He can stay for dinner."

  Aaron's face brightened. “Okay.” He ran for the back door.

  "Get cleaned up first.” Leigh called after him, but he was already gone. With a sharp bark, Ivan leaped up against the screen door and watched him go.

  After Leigh popped the lasagna into the oven, she stepped outside to water the peonies planted along the back of the house. Like walking into a sauna, she thought, as the sticky humid air enveloped her. At that moment, Melissa appeared with her best friend, Andrea. With shining blonde hair, the fifteen-year-old girls were almost carbon-copies of each other, especially since their wardrobe apparently was interchangeable. Andrea was wearing a sleeveless red-plaid shirt�
�the same one Leigh had bought for Melissa only a few days ago.

  "Hi.” Melissa wore the terminal expression of boredom she'd acquired since turning thirteen. “We'll be up in my room ‘til dinner's ready. Oh, it is okay if Andi eats with us, isn't it?"

  Leigh smiled “Sure. What have...” The girls turned to go into the house. “Hey, not so fast. I haven't seen you all day. What've you two been up to?"

  Andrea grinned sheepishly. “Oh, you know ... hanging out...” Her reply was drowned out by a shriek that blasted through the air. Two wiry bodies bolted from around the corner of the house and jumped into the swimming pool with a loud splash.

  Melissa shrieked as pellets of chlorinated water saturated her neat mini-skirt. She turned furiously to her mother. “Mom. Did you see what that little monster did?"

  Leigh laughed. “What are you, a witch? Think you're going to melt?” She twisted her fingers into claws and grimaced. “I'm mellltting..."

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “Mom, please.” She looked over at her friend. “You can't take her anywhere."

  Leigh grinned and turned back to the flowers. “Why don't you two go for a swim?"

  "With those two little brats in the pool? Forget it. Come on, Andi, let's go listen to Guns N’ Roses. Have you seen their new video? It's so cool...” Her voice trailed away as she led Andrea into the house.

  Leigh turned off the hose, stood back and glanced at her watch. Surely Bob would be home any minute. But then, just as she stepped into the house, the phone rang, and she knew that they'd be eating without him once again.

  Chapter 2

  Leigh watched the lightning bugs flicker in the darkness. The summery smell of charcoal lingered in the humid night air. The neighbors had cooked out again. From Melissa's room on the second floor, rock music throbbed through the closed windows. Aaron had disappeared with Nathan shortly after dinner and Mark was out with his girlfriend, Vicki. Bob still wasn't home.

  Working late again. She should've known better than to expect him home for dinner ... just because it was Friday. Something had come up, he'd said. Something always did on Capitol Hill.

  "Mom?"

  Aaron stood just outside the back door.

  Leigh brought the lounge chair to a sitting position. “Hi, hon. I thought you were off with Nathan."

  "He had to go home."

  His voice sounded strange. She peered at him closely. “Aaron, what's wrong?"

  "Nathan's dad is taking him camping to Big Mother for the weekend. And he said it was okay if me and Dad go with them. But he's still not home, is he?"

  Leigh felt the urge to take the boy in her arms, but she knew better than to try it. These days, whenever she so much as gave him an affectionate smile, he'd protest, “Mom, you're embarrassing me.” Still, she wished there was a way she could erase that look of disappointment from his face.

  "He was held up at a meeting,” she said lightly. “You know how it is with him, Aaron. He's explained what his work is like."

  "Yeah, I know. He's an important congressman and he helps make the laws for our country."

  "Right. Why don't you come here and sit with me?"

  She was surprised when he did. He sat on the edge of her lounge chair and stared down at his beat-up sneakers. Leigh reached out and ruffled his dark blond hair.

  "But you know what I don't understand?” He gazed up at her, confusion shimmering in his blue eyes. “Nathan's dad is a surgeon. He takes people's hearts out and fixes ‘em. How come he has time to take Nathan camping, but Dad doesn't?"

  Leigh knew Aaron expected a reply. Trouble was, she couldn't think of one. Why, indeed? It was a question she'd often asked herself. Lately, more than ever. “Well, being a congressman is different from a doctor. They have a lot of complicated work to do. And it's not a nine-to-five job. Not that a being a doctor is either, of course...” Her explanation trailed off. Lame. Very, very lame. And Aaron wasn't buying any of it.

  Resignation had settled on his young face. “Even if he does come home any minute, it'll be too late, won't it? About going camping tomorrow?"

  Leigh wished she could disagree, but it would be unfair to get his hopes up. “Yeah, I think so.” At his disheartened silence, she went on, “But next time, maybe. If you give him some notice, I'm sure he'll arrange to take some time off to go camping."

  Aaron stood up. “I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now."

  His unusual desire for an early bedtime told Leigh just how very disappointed he was. Her heart ached as she watched him walk away with slumped shoulders. “Aaron,” she spoke softly. “Dad works very hard to give us a nice life. This house, the pool ... everything else. You have to remember that when you feel bad because he isn't around as much as you'd like."

  I have to remember that, too, she thought. Remember how well he takes care of us.

  Aaron hesitated outside the back door and turned to look at her. “I just wish Dad was a doctor. Then we'd have a nice house and a father who does things with us. Like Nathan's dad.” He turned and went into the house.

  Leigh gazed at the blue lights shining at the bottom of the pool. The exchange with Aaron troubled her. He was at an age when a father-figure took on great importance. Perhaps she could get Mark to spend more time with him. A big brother would be better than nothing.

  The pool looked inviting. She wished she had the energy to change into her suit and go for a swim. But a heavy lethargy had swept over her. Just as she decided to go to bed, she heard the car pull into the driveway and a few seconds later, footsteps sounded on the flagged path leading to the patio.

  "Hi.” Bob's voice was soft with weariness. He bent and placed a brief kiss on Leigh's cheek, then deposited his athletic frame into a lounge chair near her. He ran a hand through his rumpled black hair and closed his eyes. Despite the lines of fatigue on his face, he still looked youthful and handsome, more like thirty-five than knocking at the door of forty-three.

  "I made lasagna,” she said. “I'll go heat yours up."

  He shook his head. “I called out for Chinese from the office."

  "Oh. Well, you can have it for lunch tomorrow.” Leigh glanced at him. He seemed to be in a fairly good mood. Maybe if she felt him out and the time seemed right, she could ask him about the exchange student. “How was work today?"

  "The usual. Won a verbal match with Kipper Lightfoot, that liberal from California. He's pushing for the ban on assault weapons.” He gave a short laugh. “I told him, sure, let's take arms out of the hands of law-abiding citizens, and see how quick the thugs and street punks take over. As if crime isn't bad enough already. Goddamn Democrats."

  Leigh held her tongue while he went on to talk about the battle lines drawn on Capitol Hill between the “anything goes” Democrats and the Republican “Contract with America” good-guys. He wasn't usually so effusive, and Leigh took it as a good sign. She listened quietly, occasionally asking questions she hoped wouldn't ruin his mood. Finally, Bob lapsed into silence and drowsily gazed into the pool lights. She decided to take the plunge.

  "Mark came home from the university with a flyer about exchange students. He's hoping maybe we can take one in for the next school year.” She paused, but when there was no response, went on, “I told him I'd ask you."

  Bob yawned and loosened his tie. “I don't care, as long as it doesn't interfere with our routine.” He looked at her sharply. “I don't want to be eating any Indonesian food or trying to speak some silly foreign gibberish."

  "Mark says they'll be fluent in English. And it'll be one of the Scandinavian countries."

  "Jesus. That's all we need.” In the near darkness, Leigh sensed the smile in his voice. “Some fisherman with herring breath saying, “Fjerna, Snurkel, bjorna..."

  Leigh laughed. That was one thing; Bob still had the power to make her laugh. “You're such a bigot. Just last week you met with a Swedish delegation ... what was it? For Leif Eriksen Day? And now, here you're making fun of them."

  "They were Danes,” Bob said.
“And I'm not making fun of them. They do talk like that."

  "I'm sure.” Leigh felt her heart lighten. If only he could be like this all the time. This was the man her father had brought into her life. The handsome, witty young attorney destined for Capitol Hill stardom. “So, it's okay if I tell Mark we can do it? Take in the exchange student?"

  "Sure, if that's what he wants. Just remember, if it backfires, it was your idea.” He closed his eyes.

  "You're such a pussy-cat when you're tired.” Smiling, Leigh reached over and ran a finger along his thigh, hoping to keep him in his good mood. “I was just thinking about taking a swim. How about a skinny-dip?"

  Bob yawned again and swept a hand through his ruffled dark brown hair. “No, I think I'll take a shower and go to bed."

  It was early for bed. Perhaps if she put on that sexy new nightgown she'd bought at Victoria's Secret the other day, they could do something besides sleep. When was the last time they'd made love? More than a couple of months ago, that was for sure. The last time they'd tried, he hadn't been able to get an erection. And since then, he hadn't touched her. Maybe it was time she initiated it. “I have an idea. Let's shower together."

  "Not tonight, Leigh, okay?” Bob stood up and headed for the door. “I need to get some sleep."

  Leigh stared after her husband as he disappeared into the house. She felt as though a sudden frigid wind had swept down out of the humid night, surrounding her with its winter chill. Slowly, she turned her head and gazed into the inviting waters of the pool, trying to fight off an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

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  "Girl, you'd better sit down, because I've got some news that's going to put goose pimples on your toenails."

  "Ellen?” Leigh smiled at the sound of her agent's voice on the line. She cradled the phone on her shoulder, and added a bit of charcoal to the rabbit's tail. “I am sitting down. What's up?"

  Ellen paused dramatically. Then in an excited rush, said, “Honey, you've won the Smyth-Huxbury Award for the illustrations in Hydra's last book."