Elsker Page 5

  “We’ll see you when you get home… if you make it home!” Victoria trilled over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her. “I wouldn’t come home.,” I heard her mutter as she walked away.

  “Me neither,” came Emma’s muffled reply through the door.

  Chapter Five

  First Date

  AT FOUR O’CLOCK ON the dot, there was an authoritative knock. I took a deep breath and picked up my purse. My intuition told me this was a very important moment. I waited for the inevitable blackout to embarrass me, but it didn’t come. For once my brain was functioning on all cylinders -- I was vision free. Hey, even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then.

  When I opened the door, Ull’s glorious figure stood on the other side. His thick, blonde hair was in disarray from the Welsh wind. His perfectly-shined boots were the same black as his tight-fitting sweater, and defined forearms peeked out from pushed-up sleeves. The dark wash of his jeans highlighted the long, muscular shape of his legs. He raked a hand through his hair, brushing a piece away from his eyes, and lit up the entire flat with his radiant smile. My heart ached; no man could be so beautiful. I smiled shyly and Ull reached out a hand to kiss one of mine. The touch of his lips on my fingers made me jump, shockwaves radiating all the way down to my toes.

  He guided me over the threshold and into the late afternoon sun with one hand on the small of my back. “Are you ready for the grand tour of Cardiff?” I nodded, not quite able to speak. We walked to the street where a shiny, black Range Rover waited, bearing the license plate NORSE1. Of course. He held my hand as I climbed into the passenger seat and my stomach flipped when I realized he was checking me out. I made a mental note to thank Emma and Victoria for their hard work on my appearance.

  “Kristia,” he said after he had fastened his seat belt. “You look delightful this evening. Absolutely angelic.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want to spend time with a rogue like me?” Beneath his smile was a serious undertone.

  “There’s no place I’d rather be.” I crossed my feet at the ankles the way my grandmother had taught me and snuck a glance to see how Ull responded to my words. His grimace was the last dark look I saw that night. He seemed to have made a decision, though I couldn’t guess at what it was.

  He looked at my dress with a wry chuckle. “So I guess ice skating is out.” I panicked, trying to remember if he’d mentioned wanting to do something sporty.

  “We can go back -- I can change, it’s--” his laughter stopped me.

  “I was teasing you, Kristia. We can skate another time. I would much rather you wear that dress.” His smolder left a warm tingling in my stomach. He reached out to hold my hand and the tingling burst into flames. Desperately hoping he couldn’t hear my pulse, I took slow, deep breaths. We were two minutes into this date. I didn’t want to give him any reason to go back to avoiding me.

  “Right. Another time,” I said lightly. Another date with Ull. I had to start the deep breathing all over again. Two and a half minutes into this and I was two for two on hyperventilation. I’d have to start pacing myself. After all, I still wasn’t completely convinced that Nice Ull was the real thing. And there was no point in going all ga-ga over someone who might not even exist.

  Ull drove toward the center of town, at ease in the driver’s seat. I tried to focus on his words as he pointed out Cardiff’s considerable highlights, but I found myself lost in the commanding tenor of his voice. I forced myself to really look at the sights, and by the time Ull pulled up in front of Cardiff Castle, I was finally able to hear him. He didn’t move to get out of the car, so I re-crossed my ankles and stared at the ancient fortress from the passenger’s seat.

  “Cardiff has the highest concentration of castles in the world. This one dates back two thousand2,000 years, though of course it has undergone many revisions. You just missed the Medieval Mêlée. People dress in costumes; there are sword-fighting contests on the green, turkey legs, and silly games. I went as a jester this year.”

  I tried to picture Ull Myhr dressed as a clown, but came up short.

  “It is nice to walk the castle wall,” he went on. “You can see the niches in the stone where guards used to keep their fires on cold nights. We can do that another time -- too late today., Tthe castle closes at six.” As fascinating as the wall sounded, the only thing I took from this was that Ull wanted to go out again. Score one, Tostenson.

  Ull eased into traffic and his excitement grew as he pointed out Millennium Stadium. His eyes shone as he described some of his favorite matches -- he was both a football and rugby regular, and he glanced wistfully at the stadium when he spoke. It was weird to imagine him doing something so ordinary as watching sports. Maybe he did have a normal side.

  Ull glanced at the clock and drove purposefully toward our next destination. The sun was low in the sky as he gestured towards the docks that had made Cardiff a major port for coal transport in the 19th Century, and pointed in the direction of the Arcade, a collection of shops varying from couture to cafes. Naturally, Starbucks was well represented here, too. My head started to spin from the light pressure of Ull’s hand on mine, so I resumed my deep breathing to keep myself in check. If this kept up, I was going to have to take up yoga. Yogis were good deep breathers, weren’t they?

  Finally, Ull turned off the main road and parked in a small lot. Without a word, he got out of the car and opened and closed the trunk. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to get out too -- were we going for a walk or was he just checking on something back there? But it felt weird to ask, so after a minute, I unbuckled my seatbelt and swung open my door.

  “Ouch!” Ull dropped whatever he was carrying and rubbed his arm.

  “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t realize you were there!” This was beyond mortifying.

  “Guess I did not open your door fast enough,” Ull joked as he stooped to pick up the blanket and basket I’d knocked out of his arms.

  “My door? Oh.” He’d wanted to open my car door. Like in a movie. How had I made it twenty years and not realized guys actually did that? “Oh Ull.,” I grabbed his red forearm. “I really got you.”

  “All in the line of duty.,” Hhe took my hand. “This way, my lady.”

  We stopped at the top of the small knoll. The garden easily stretched the length of two football fields, pink, yellow, and purple flowers layering the ground with their thick carpet. Trees swathed in fuchsia petals swayed softly, and a lush covering of grass wove in and out of the flowers. In the distance, a white-columned memorial evoked images of Ancient Greece. It was spectacular.

  “Where are we?”

  “Alexandra Gardens. Named for Alexandra of Denmark, who became the longest running Welsh Princess.” Ull glanced at me from under thick lashes. “This is one of my favorite places in Cardiff.”

  Ull led me down the knoll and laid the blanket on a grassy spot beneath one of the fuchsia trees. He opened the picnic basket and I wanted to ask him a million questions. He beat me to it as he handed me a bottle of sparkling water.

  “Are you enjoying the city so far?” He opened an assortment of tapas for my perusal and helped himself to an olive before leaning back on one elbow.

  “Yes.,” I looked down to give myself time to think of something to say. That beautiful form stretched across the blanket had emptied my mind of all coherent thought. “It’s so much cleaner than I’d imagined.” Cleaner? I struggled to recover. “I mean, London was beautiful too, but everything was so grey -- grime on the buildings, you know? That was neat, and all, because it was London. But everything here is… uh… white.” I gestured to the memorial, pristine in its place of honor. “Even the sidewalks seem white. I guess I just expected everything to be dirty because it’s so big, but Cardiff’s even cleaner than Nehalem was -- and with only three hundred people, it doesn’t get very dirty. Well, it gets dirty because it’s in the forest. You know, with dirt. And stuff. But not because of litter or anything.” I willed myself to stop talking and picked up a slice o
f bread to end my prattling.

  It was a testament to Ull’s chivalry that he moved on without comment. “Tell me about Nehalem. What do you miss the most?” He leaned forward on his elbow, seemingly wanting to know.

  “Oh gosh.,” I wasn’t sure where to begin. When I was positive I wasn’t going to start in on another babble, I told him about my own favorite place. “Well, there’s this quiet spot off the main river. If you didn’t know it was there, you might never find it. My best friend Ardis and I spent a lot of time there and after she left for college in New York, I used to go by myself to read. Being there made it seem like she wasn’t so far away.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “What about them?” I countered before I could catch myself.

  Ull had enough manners to keep quiet.

  “My grandmother raised me -- Mormor was my mom’s mom. My parents traveled a lot for their antique business., Tthey were always on the lookout for new treasures for the shop.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “They didn’t want a kid around to slow them down. So they passed me off to Mormor -- she knew me way better than they ever did anyway. She taught me to tie my shoes, to bake cookies, to write thank you notes. Everything I know.” I stared at my folded hands. “She’s gone now; she passed away right after I started college.”

  “You miss her.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Terribly.”

  Ull offered me a container with turkey, cheese, and crackers and as I made my little sandwich, he kept up his stream of questions.

  “What are your favorite books?”

  “Um…” I chewed, appreciating the change of subject. “I like Shakespeare.”

  “Romeo and Juliet?” Ull chuckled.

  “Much Ado About Nothing.,” I blushed. “I always saw myself as an un-bitter Beatrice.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s so disillusioned with love and doesn’t think she can count on anyone -- that part’s not me at all. But she’s really independent and she’s always looking out for her impetuous cousin. It’s sort of like Ardis and me. She’d always get herself into these situations because of her heart, and I would come along and clean up after her.”

  “Sounds tough.”

  “Not really. Ardis got into the scrapes; I just had to help her out of them.” I’d been as busy as a stump-tailed horse in fly time, the way Ardis found trouble. “My part was much easier.”

  “Always a little outside of life, Miss Tostenson?”

  “I guess,” I blushed. It was easier to watch Ardis go through heartbreaks than to get hurt myself. But Ull didn’t need to know that.

  “I know the feeling.” Ull’s response was wry. “Favorite movies?” He continued before I could ask what he meant.

  “Um… Much Ado, again. Kenneth Branagh’s pretty fantastic.”

  “Agreed.”

  Ull continued as the sun set. He asked about my favorite foods, the music I listened to, and what I hoped to do after graduation. He listened patiently as I told him my dream of working in a museum, and leaned in as I talked about my favorite works of art. He seemed genuinely interested in the minor details of my life, and I told him a bit about the oddities of a small- town upbringing. Naturally, I omitted talk of my little mental tic -- every dog had a few fleas, and mine were bound to show themselves soon enough.

  By the time the sun dipped at the horizon, our picnic was mostly gone, and Ull offered me a container of brownies. He held up his sparkling water and clinked his bottle to mine.

  “Skål,” he said. “Cheers. To new beginnings.” He winked at me with a smile so dazzling, I shivered. “Are you cold?” His concern was sweet.

  I shook my head. “Everything is wonderful. I’m just… I’m a little overwhelmed. You’re --,” I stumbled over the words, ducking behind my hair. “You’re kind of great when you’re being nice.”

  “Be careful, Kristia Tostenson.,” hHe brushed my hair behind my ear, trailing one finger along the curve of my neck. I resumed my deep, calming breaths in earnest. “You could choose much better company than me.” There was a warning behind his easy smile.

  “I’m not sure I could,” I whispered into my water. Ull stared, deep in thought.

  “I am afraid, neither could I,” he confessed. We watched the horizon in silence as the sky turned from blue to orange to purple. As dusk settled over the garden, Ull packed up the remnants of our picnic and held out a hand to help me up. “To the next stop on our Grand Circle Tour.”

  When Ull pulled up to the posh nightclub, a new kind of panic swept over me. I wasn’t graceful sitting still and dancing was definitely not my forte. But as he seemed to be with everything else, Ull was a natural, leading me around the club as if I’d been dancing all my life. This required that he hold me very close, and the contact was almost too much for my overworked brain. I felt so light-headed that I nearly fell on several occasions. If he noticed, Ull was gentlemanly enough not to say anything.

  We left the nightclub much too soon, Ull’s fingers twined through mine. I felt a twinge of sadness as I realized our date must be nearing its end. But when Ull helped me into his car, he treated me to another dazzling smile.

  “Would you care to join me for a drink at my local?”

  “Maybe. What’s a local?”

  “Ah, Americans,” Ull chuckled. “Your local is your favorite pub. Mine happens to be around the corner from your flat. Shall we go together?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Minutes later, we sat in the dimly-lit, wood-paneled room in the quiet pub. We were tucked away in a corner booth opposite the roaring fire. Ull had slid into the seat next to me rather than across from me. His arm rested around my shoulders, so I had no choice but to lean into him in the small space. As we sipped our drinks -- tea for me, an Irish Coffee for Ull -- I finally got to ask him about himself. He spoke unreservedly about his home, winter days spent skiing and snowshoeing with friends, and summer afternoons swimming in the ocean and grilling out at night.

  “What about your family? Do you have brothers and sisters?” He’d been so busy with his interrogation I’d stored up what felt like a thousand questions.

  “Not so much,” he smiled lightly, though I felt his arm tense around me. “I do have a rather sizeable extended family though, makes up for it.”

  “Are they in Norway?”

  “Yes. They all live in the same village actually, but it is pretty remote. Not a lot of contact with the rest of the world.”

  “How do they feel about you being so far from home?” An innocent enough subject, but Ull’s knuckles whitened around his glass before he released his hand.

  “They support me as much as they can in my choices, but they do not particularly understand why I would want a life outside of… outside of our village.”

  At that moment, my mental problem reared its ugly head. Clearly, the night was going too well.

  I was sitting in a meadow, underneath what looked like a willow tree. A warm breeze blew its leaves and I looked up at the strange tinkling sound -- the leaves were actually made of silver. At the bottom of the knoll, two swans paddled across a pristine pond. A majestic castle rose as if from the clouds, pink and orange in the setting sun. But it wasn’t the setting that took my breath away -- it was the striking blonde man sitting next to me, looking at me like I was the only woman in the world. It was Ull.

  It was the first vision I’d ever wanted to stay in. I brought myself back against my will.

  “Must be a really nice village.” I hoped he hadn’t noticed me slip away. Mormor had always told me my little spells were too short for anyone to pay them any mind, but I was fairly positive she’d only said that so I wouldn’t be any more self-conscious than I already was.

  Ardis had said pretty much the same thing when I asked her. “I dunno, about ten seconds? They’re not a big deal, Kristia, seriously. You just kind of get quiet, like you’re thinking about something serious. Then you’re back to normal again.” But she’d had to say that
-- your best friend probably wouldn’t tell you if you were zoning out like a weirdo for minutes at a time. Still, I hoped there was a grain of truth to Mormor and Ardis’ kindness. Maybe Ull wouldn’t pick up on my mind trips.

  “My village is nice. And my family rarely leaves it. But me.,” hHe shrugged, oblivious to my mental jaunt. “I just wanted something different, I suppose.”

  “And what do you want, Ull?” I glanced up, relieved I’d stayed under the radar. A slow smile spread across his face.

  “I do not think anyone has ever asked me that.” He thought for a long moment. “I just want to be free to do the things I love -- ski, skate, play hockey. Travel. I spent a winter skiing in the Alps, and it was paradise. It was the only time I have ever felt untouchable -- flying down hills, completely cut off from everything but the mountain. No emotions, no expectations. No pressure.”

  When he looked at me there was gratitude in his eyes. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to open up to you. I am not able to talk with many people.”

  “That’s your choice -- girls try to talk to you all the time.”

  Ull laughed. “Let me rephrase. I am not comfortable talking with many people. But you, Kristia…,” Hhis look made me catch my breath. “You are easy to be with. You do not let me get away with anything. I can be myself with you.”

  We sat in peaceful silence, and I listened to the sound of Ull’s breathing. I inhaled the woodsy smell coming from his neck, a musky combination of pine and earth. For the first time in my life, I felt like I might actually be where I was meant to be. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or terrified.

  But I didn’t get to make up my mind. Even pubs have closing times, and with a cheery wave our waitress informed us that time had come. “Well, Miss Tostenson,” Ull said with a wink. “I suppose I had better get you home.”