East of the Sun, West of the Moon Page 4

  Seconds ticked by as Leigh stood there, searching for something to say. Erik stared at her, unsmiling. Her heart accelerated as he took a step toward her.

  A door opened downstairs and a moment later, a voice called up. “Mom! Can I have a snack?"

  Leigh felt a surge of relief. She moved toward the door. “Go ahead, Aaron,” she called, a tremor in her voice. She looked back at Erik. “I've got to get back to work.” She nodded towards the basket of clothes on the floor. “More laundry to fold, you know.” She left his room, almost stumbling in her haste.

  Instead of going downstairs to the laundry room, she hurried to her studio. Her heart was still pounding when she sat down at the window seat and stared out at the golden-russet colors of autumn.

  He knows ... he knows I'm attracted to him ... I haven't been able to hide it ... he knows and he's going to try to take advantage of it.

  Leigh had no idea what to do. How had it happened? Had she somehow given off signals to him? If she had, it had been unconscious. What if he made a stronger advance? Would she be able to summon enough common sense and will power to resist him? She had to. From now on, she would be as formal as possible with him. She had to remind herself that Erik was her son's friend, and treat him accordingly—like a son.

  Above all, she had to forget she was a woman around Erik. That would be the most difficult of all, because when he looked at her with those wonderful blue eyes, she felt more womanly than she ever had before.

  Chapter 4

  Leigh awoke to rain beating a tattoo upon the roof. She reached for the alarm clock then relaxed, realizing it was Sunday morning. She closed her eyes again, enjoying the warmth of the electric blanket and the music of the rain. A remnant of a dream lingered in the edges of her mind, yet when she tried to focus upon it, it remained elusive and finally disappeared.

  It had been about Erik, of course. Since yesterday in his room, she'd forced herself not to think about him ... not in that way, but this morning, perhaps because of the early hour, or the rain, her unguarded mind reached for him. She imagined him in the guest room, sleeping nude under the satin comforter. How cozy his room would be with the rain beating against the window. The thought of his naked chest glistening with golden hairs brought a warm flush to her body. She looked over at her sleeping husband. He was turned away from her, clad only in pajama bottoms. It had been a such a long time since they'd had sex. She tried to remember the last time. Oh, God! Had it really been over six months since their last failed attempt? She'd tried to get him to go to a doctor to see if the impotence was physical, but he'd flat-out refused. His solution was to ignore the problem, and hope it would go away on its own. Typical male “bury-head-in-the sand” attitude.

  God, she wanted to be loved. Badly. She reached out a hand and gently traced the line of a scar on his right shoulder. It was from a college football injury, he'd told her. Leigh slid toward him, hugging her body against his back and sliding her arms around him to caress his hard flat stomach.

  "Bobby...” she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

  He groaned and turned over on his back. Leigh slid halfway upon him and nuzzled his chest. Bob's eyes fluttered and the rate of his breathing quickened. Her hand crept down to the waistband of his pajama bottoms. Deftly, she popped open the snaps and slid her hand inside, pleased to find he was erect. He moaned as she began to arouse him. Quickly, changing position, she took him into her mouth. She was wet and ready for him, but first she wanted to taste him, to make both of them want it more. Maybe this is what she should've been doing all along. Taking control.

  "Oh ... baby ... yeah...” he moaned. Suddenly he wrenched himself away from her and rolled her onto her back. Pulling her nightgown up around her waist, he greedily parted her legs and plunged deep inside her. Leigh, shocked at the abruptness of his entry, felt all desire drain away. In a moment, it was over. Bob collapsed on top of her, his chest thundering wildly. A few seconds later, he withdrew and dropped back onto his side of the bed. Leigh tugged her nightgown down, feeling the cold stickiness of semen against her legs. She sat up and pulled the electric blanket around her.

  Beside her, Bob spoke, a satisfied grin on his face. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often."

  Leigh remained silent. She'd never felt more alone.

  * * * *

  Everyone except Bob had gathered at the kitchen table for breakfast when he walked in, a dark scowl on his face. He stared out the window at the rain. “I'm not sitting out in that stadium again in this fucking weather."

  "Do you have to talk like that in front of the kids?” Leigh said. “Besides, it's not the end of the world if it rains during a Redskin game."

  "Well, you can be a lunatic if you want to, but I told you last time I wouldn't sit in that stadium in the rain again.” Bob sat down and helped himself to a large serving of scrambled eggs. “I don't know why I let you talk me into buying those damn season tickets anyway."

  "You were the one who said it looked good for a congressman to support the Capitol's team.” Leigh's tone was mildly sarcastic. “I wanted the tickets because I actually like the Redskins."

  "Well, I'm not going today. Maybe Erik will be crazy enough to use my ticket.” Bob looked over at him, a sour expression on his face. “But I guess you Norwegians don't know anything about football, do you?"

  Mark spoke up, “Yeah, Erik. You can't live here in Redskin territory without becoming a fan. What do you say? Want to go to the game?"

  Erik shrugged. “Why not? A little rain doesn't bother me."

  Leigh could have sworn she saw him throw Bob a challenging glance.

  Bob glowered and unfolded the morning paper. An uneasy silence fell, but it didn't last long. He scowled at the front page. “You'll have a hell of a time getting downtown today. The idiot liberals are marching on the White House again."

  "Why?” Leigh asked.

  "Oh, they're pissed off about the Crouch Bill, the one about the homeless. The President vetoed it, you know. And well he should have. Stupidest thing I've ever heard. Raising our tax dollars to build more shelters. Like that's going to make a bit of difference. Damn right of him not to sign."

  Erik stared at Bob, an incredulous look in his eyes. Slowly, he put down his fork. “Am I to understand you don't have any empathy at all for the street people I see every time I go into D.C.?"

  Bob looked at him. “Ninety-eight percent of those people are certifiably wacko. The other two percent are addicts or alcoholics. Why should the average taxpayer have to foot the bill for people like that?” He shook his head. “And even if we do build more shelters, it won't change a thing. Half those people don't even want to use them. They'd rather sleep on subway grates. We might as well take the taxpayer's money and flush it down the toilet for all the good this bill would do."

  "More coffee, anyone?” Leigh stood and headed for the kitchen. She knew from experience it was impossible to argue with Bob about his right-wing politics. Poor Erik didn't know what he was getting himself into. When she returned with the coffee pot, the two men were glaring across the table like gladiators in the Colosseum.

  Blue fire sparked from Erik's eyes. “I can't believe you're really serious. Or are you just trying to convince yourself it's true to lessen your guilt?"

  "I don't feel guilty,” Bob retorted. “I've worked hard for what I have."

  "Ja,” Erik said. “But because you're a public servant, you have a responsibility to help out those less fortunate."

  "My only responsibility is to my constituents, and let me tell you, the majority of them are hard-working taxpayers. Blue collar workers who know the value of a day's work. The little guys who work in the mills and the factories. Who bring home a pay-check every week to feed their families. Those are the kind of people that made this country strong, certainly not the foreigners ... most of them illegal aliens who come here and take jobs from good hard-working Americans."

  Erik's eyes grew appraising. “Oh, so now, we are talking ab
out the foreigners, not the homeless. What are you trying to say, Bob? That America should be only for hard-working native-born people like you? That some people are more equal than others? Is that what you're saying?"

  "You're twisting my words,” Bob snarled, eyes crackling with anger.

  It was getting way too hot in here. Leigh decided it was time to intervene. “Why don't we talk about something else?"

  Bob threw her a disgruntled look. “No. I want to find out why all these Europeans feel the need to be so self-righteous.” He glared back at Erik. “I suppose Norway has all the answers, right?"

  "No country has all the answers,” Erik said flatly. “But we don't have a homeless problem."

  "And you know why? Exorbitant taxes, that's why. Thank you very much, but I'll choose the good old U.S. of A. any day. A place where I get to keep what's mine."

  For a long moment, Erik stared at him silently, eyes hard. “How very noble of you.” He pushed his plate away. “Excuse me. I'm afraid I've lost my appetite.” He turned and left the room. With a disdainful look at his father, Mark stood and followed him out.

  "Arrogant bastard, isn't he?” Bob muttered, reaching for his coffee cup.

  Leigh's fork clattered to her plate. She stared at her husband. “You know something? Sometimes, you can be a real jerk."

  Without waiting for a response, she stood and left the room. Damn Bob. She wouldn't allow him to ruin her day. She'd get dressed for the game and they'd all go without him. And have a better time, at that.

  At the door of her bedroom, she paused, and on impulse, turned and headed in the other direction toward the guest room. Through a round window cut high in the wall at the end of the hallway, she could see the rain sluicing down from a slate gray sky. The blazing leaves of autumn glistened wetly on the trees, some of them falling to the ground in death throes as she watched. An inexplicable shiver ran through her. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the depression settling upon her, and she turned from the window to rap firmly on Erik's door.

  "Come in."

  She found him at his desk, a textbook opened in front of him. He looked up and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “Kayleigh?"

  "Erik, I just want to apologize for Bob's behavior this morning. I don't think he believes half of what he says."

  "If he does, I pity the American people,” Erik said, a faint edge of bitterness in his voice. “Your husband ... he's...” His eyes stormy, he searched for the right word, “...hardnakkethet ... obstinate. I can't believe an intelligent person would think like that."

  "His parents weren't rich, you know,” Leigh tried to explain. “He went to college on a full scholarship and worked his way through law school. That's why he thinks the way he does. He feels if he could make it, why can't everyone else?"

  Not that he didn't have a lot of good luck along the way. A savvy stockbroker and some opportune investments had paved the way for a good portion of Bob's financial success. “Ja, but his reasoning borders along the thinking of Hitler's. Kayleigh, I've worked with the mentally ill. They do not choose their illness any more than you or I would choose to have cancer. Can your husband really believe that they, and the others, don't deserve all the help we can give them?"

  Leigh shook her head. “I honestly don't know what he thinks anymore. Anyway, I'm sure he didn't mean to insult you."

  A slight smile appeared on Erik's lips. “I'm sure he did. But it doesn't matter. The thing I can't understand is ... forgive me, Kayleigh, but you are so different from him. What made you...” He stopped, a chagrined look on his face. “I'm sorry. I almost did it again, didn't I? I'm ... how do you say ... off boundary?"

  Leigh smiled. “Out of bounds. But it's okay. You want to know what made me fall for him?” She turned away to stare out the window at the rain. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “He was different back then. Softer. Ambition did something to him. Changed him.” She turned to face him. “Mark is very much like Bob used to be. I fell in love with him because he made me laugh. No man had ever really done that before."

  Erik gazed at her pensively. “Does he still make you laugh?"

  Not for a long, long time. But she couldn't tell him that. It would be disloyal. She pointedly glanced at her watch. “We need to leave soon. The game starts at one. Can you be ready in about fifteen minutes?” At his nod, she turned to go, but his voice stopped her.

  "Kayleigh.” He watched her closely. “Do you always apologize for your husband?"

  Leigh shrugged, embarrassed. “Bob rarely feels the need to apologize for anything."

  Erik shook his head and muttered, “Slov Amerikansk."

  She started to ask him for a translation, but the expression on his face changed her mind.

  * * * *

  The table reserved for Bob was a choice one, nestled in the back of the restaurant near the fireplace. Leigh took a sip of Earl Grey tea and glanced at her watch. Two o'clock. She'd been waiting almost an hour for him to finish with an impromptu meeting so they could celebrate their 20th anniversary with lunch. But Aaron would be home from school soon. If Bob had been able to get away at twelve-thirty as they'd planned, she would've been home in plenty of time. She decided to call and leave a message for Aaron on the answering machine.

  But instead of the machine picking up, Erik answered the phone.

  "Hi, Erik,” Leigh said, surprised. “Why aren't you in class?"

  "They canceled for something called a pep rally. It has to do with this big game against Notre Dame tomorrow."

  "And you went home instead?"

  "Yes, well...” Leigh could hear the smile in his voice. “It's not the Redskins, is it? You've spoiled me for other teams."

  Leigh laughed softly. “Now, how did I do that? Listen, Erik, can you give Aaron a message for me? I'm at Antoine's on the Hill. Bob and I were supposed to meet for lunch, but he's been held up. Tell Aaron to go play at Nathan's until I get home. I'm not going to wait past three, so I'll be there at least by four o'clock if Bob doesn't show."

  "Of course, I'll tell him. And Kayleigh, enjoy yourself, ja?"

  "Yeah, thanks. Talk to you later."

  That taken care of, Leigh returned to her table and ordered another cup of tea. She'd told Erik she'd wait until three o'clock, but by that time, it would be too late for lunch. Maybe she should just go home. Obviously, Bob wasn't going to make it. Either something else had come up or, more likely, he'd simply forgotten.

  She sipped her tea and stared glassily into the burning fire. Twenty years. And each year that passed seemed to mean less and less to Bob. The first few anniversaries, it had been elaborate nights out, dancing and dining at the best restaurants. Even during the lean years when Bob had been a junior congressman in the Ohio state legislature, they'd managed to have some kind of romantic evening together. Now, they couldn't even get together for a quick lunch.

  Leigh glanced at her watch. Five to three. “That's it,” she whispered, reaching for her purse. As she moved to get up, she heard a murmur of excitement from the table to her left. She turned and gasped at the sight of a cloud of multi-colored balloons coming toward her, each of them printed with “Happy Anniversary."

  A delighted laugh escaped her lips. Unbelievable—that Bob would do such a crazy romantic thing! The balloons hovered in front of her, swaying and bobbing with the air currents. Slowly, they rose toward the high ceiling and Leigh found herself staring into Erik's dancing blue eyes.

  She was stunned, speechless.

  "I had a feeling he wouldn't be able to make it,” he said, tying the balloon ribbons to the back of her Early American chair. “I thought these would cheer you up.” He took a seat opposite her.

  The waiter appeared and Erik ordered coffee. When he'd gone, Leigh finally found her voice. “What would you have done if Bob had been here?"

  He looked surprised. “Why, I would've brought you the balloons and left. Would he have found that odd, do you suppose?"

  "Yes, probably."


  "Ah, well. I am a foreigner. You can't expect me to know these things."

  The waiter arrived with his coffee. Erik waited until he'd gone before speaking again. “So, how many years is it?"

  "Twenty. How did you know it was our anniversary?"

  "Mark and I stopped by the bakery this morning to order you a cake. We're going to present it after dinner tonight. Please be surprised. I wasn't supposed to tell."

  Leigh felt very close to tears. When she'd first seen the balloons, she'd thought Bob had finally done something wildly spontaneous, and she'd been filled with hope that things would change. That they could be in love again. She looked down into her near empty teacup and blinked quickly.

  Erik's hand covered hers. “Cry if you want to, Kayleigh. It will help."

  She felt his steady gaze, but couldn't look at him. His hand was warm on hers, warm and strong. His strength seemed to flow into her and suddenly the hurt wasn't so bad. She shook her head and stared at the fire.

  "Thanks for the balloons, Erik,” she said quietly.

  He stared at her for a long moment, not speaking. Then, he squeezed her hand and sat back in his chair to finish his coffee.

  * * * *

  Bob still wasn't home by the time Leigh went to bed that night. There had been no phone call. No card or flowers. Nothing. As Erik had warned her, the kids presented her with the anniversary cake, carefully avoiding the painfully obvious absence of the other half of the marital team. Leigh had done her best to pretend nothing was wrong.

  The tears she'd held back at Antoine's came as she buried her face into her pillow. For the first time in months, she cried until her chest ached before falling into a restless sleep.

  It was after two o'clock when she heard Bob come into the room. She knew the time because she lifted her arm and peered at the illuminated face of her wristwatch. He undressed in the darkness and crawled into bed next to her. She didn't move, just continued to lie stiffly on her right side, facing away from him. He didn't touch her. In fact, he seemed to take extra care to stay as far away from her as possible.