Love, Red Page 5

  I said I didn’t know, but in my heart, I knew the answer. I always felt the attraction was just too strong. That the desire would win out every time.

  I was devastated and not sure how I would get through the next ten days, being close to you and not being able to touch you.

  But you took me around the country. I was able to see the fjords, to meet your parents, brother, and other members of your family, as well as see the Viking ship. I hadn’t looked at my pictures from there in years, but got them out the other day. My favorite is a picture of you trying to keep the goat out of the car – I had completely forgotten about that.

  I went to Vigeland. It’s tough walking around a park with all those naked bodies entwined (it brought all kind of thoughts of what I wanted to be doing with you).

  You took me to an airport and asked if I wanted to go gliding. That was a true rush. Being in a plane with no engine – probably the most daring thing I had ever done in my life. I guess our lives and writing paralleled Fifty Shades of Grey more than we care to admit – we just did it 30 years earlier – LOL.

  But what I remember most was getting ready for bed that first night. I came out to say good night. You asked if I was okay, and I said I would be.

  I asked if you would come lay with me until I fell asleep. I was just sad, and the only person I had to turn to was you. I was thousands of miles away from my family and friends. You were all I had.

  I normally sleep in the nude, but had brought some lingerie with a robe which I kept on because the nightwear was very revealing. I respected our friendship too much to try to seduce you. I laid down on the bed and you laid next to me – spooning me.

  It was nice to have your arms around me. I was hoping I would be able to fall asleep. I was exhausted from the flight, but my mind was still reeling with the news you had given me.

  I was doing everything I could to not move my body. I wanted to press myself tighter against you, but I just wouldn’t allow myself to do that.

  Luckily for me, you couldn’t resist. I felt you getting hard against my back. You held me tighter, trying to control your desire, but I think that just had the opposite effect.

  Your body started to move; your hands found my breasts. You started kissing the back of my neck. You turned me around to face you and continued to kiss me.

  It was unbelievable to feel you touch me again. To have your hands play with my breasts. To have your fingers run up and down my thighs (if you only knew how much that turns me on).

  I think that was the most tender you had ever been when making love to me. It’s as if you wanted to feel every inch of going into me and then pulling out. To feel my muscles try to hold you so tight that you couldn’t pull out of me. I don’t know how long we continued making love so slowly.

  I think it was the first time I had never wanted you to come. Not because I didn’t want you to be satisfied, but because I didn’t want it to end. I don’t think you did either, because we both knew we wouldn’t get to make love again.

  I’ve often wanted to ask you what was going through your mind that night.

  Hugs, Hugs, Hugs,

  Gwynyth

  Chapter 6 –

  The Real Reason for Going to Norway

  When I first decided to go to Norway, I assumed it was to see Rune. But with the bombshell he dropped on me when I arrived, I started to question why. It had been unbelievably foolish of me to spend the money, but my desire to see him superseded my always-rational way of thinking.

  The days when Rune and I weren’t traveling the country, I spent exploring Oslo – visiting museums, the King’s palace. But what intrigued me the most was getting to see the Viking ship. I had read about what was called the Gokstad ship that was found in a burial mound at Gokstad farm. I knew I couldn’t go to Norway without seeing it.

  What I didn’t know when I set out to see the Viking ship was that there were several museums in the same area that housed other famous ships. One that I had heard of was the Kon-Tiki. It was a raft made out of balsa logs and other native materials of Peru that was used by Norwegian explorer and writer Thor Heyerdahl in his 1947 expedition to cross the Pacific Ocean from South America to the Polynesian islands. A documentary made about the expedition actually won an Academy Award the year I was born.

  However, it wasn’t the Viking ship or the Kon-Tiki that captured my attention. I had a lot of time before Rune was to pick me up at the end of his shift, so I decided to visit one more museum while I was there.

  It was visiting the Fram Museum that made my heart race. As I walked into the building, I was struck by the massiveness of the ship that was in front of me. My heart started pounding with an excitement that couldn’t be explained. When I saw the grey, black, and red bow, there was a feeling of familiarity that I just couldn’t explain.

  At first, I didn’t realize that you could actually go on the boat, but then I saw people walking around on the deck.

  I went to the window and asked, “Is it possible to actually go on the boat, or are those workers that I see?”

  “There is an admission price, but you can tour the boat’s inner cabins if you want to,” the clerk told me.

  I paid my admission fee and walked the length of the ship to the gangway that would allow me access. As my foot touched the deck, there was an overwhelming sense of peace that came over me. I walked toward the steering column, but for some reason, it felt wrong to take hold of the wheel. Instead, my center of calmness was found as I stood to the side.

  For one brief moment, I saw myself in the icy waters of the arctic with a crew member steering the boat. What was peculiar about that, is that I had no idea what the boat had been used for.

  My heart continued to race as I turned to follow others to the areas below deck. It was eerie, because before I would turn a corner, I knew what was coming up. I knew the way to the engine room. I knew where the kitchen was and the infirmary. I turned down the hall that I knew would take me to see the crew’s quarters.

  All of the signs were in Norwegian, so I was unable to understand the comments on the different areas, but I could see names. And it was one of those names that stopped me dead in my tracks.

  As I looked into the room, I was overcome with a sense of connection to the name. I stood there for a good ten minutes, just taking in what my eyes were showing me. It’s hard to explain, but it was as if I were visiting an old friend instead of seeing the room for the first time.

  As I left the area below deck, there was a sadness that overcame me. I really didn’t want to leave.

  When I exited the ship, I saw for the first time a series of plaques that were hanging around the front perimeter of the building. They were solid pieces of grey stone that had carved portraits and words on them. I couldn’t read any of them from where I stood, but one specific plaque stood out.

  I fixated on that stone until I got up close enough to be able to make out the words. Unfortunately, it was all in Norwegian, so I could only make out a few things.

  The first thing I noticed was the name on the plaque. It was the same name that had captured my attention in the crew’s quarters. But what threw me was the birthdate on the plaque. It was the same as mine.

  I had always wondered about reincarnation, but for a brief moment, I felt that I had met myself from a previous life.

  Upon returning to the house, I went to the encyclopedia set that I had seen in the den. I found the “S” and looked up the person from the museum. It was extraordinary, but for a few minutes, I could actually read the information – which was in a language I did not speak.

  As I sat there taking in the events of the day, I had to ask myself – was this the real reason for my trip to Norway? Was “meeting myself” in a past life the discovery that I was supposed to make?

  Chapter 7 –

  The Wisdom of Our Siblings

  Sometimes, when you’re writing a book, there are spots where you wish you could be talking with your readers. You want to be able to ask, “Did t
his ever happen to you? How would you have handled the situation? Would you have been so much smarter than me and just given up?”

  Undoubtedly, and rightly so, some people would see Rune as a jerk or cad, or me as a Jezebel, but sometimes, good people are faced with situations they never dreamed they would be dealing with. As we continued to write Shades of Red, the answers to many of my questions were revealing themselves.

  The three-hour conversation that we had after he read the preceding love letter brought its own clarity, as well as some sweet memories.

  “I was angry at first when I got to Norway. I just couldn’t understand how you would let me come visit and not tell me you had a girlfriend,” wondering if he could sense the tears falling down my face.

  “I’m not sure why I didn’t tell you before you came, except I was afraid if I did, you would cancel the trip. Looking back, I realize how selfish it was of me, but remember, I was just 18 years old and you were the cougar mama,” he laughed.

  He could never resist trying to make me blush, so teasing me was always nothing short of a sporting event with him. But then his tone turned serious. “And again, I know it was selfish, but I missed my friend and wanted to see you. I thought you would enjoy seeing Norway. I remember telling you about Norway years ago when we were in New Orleans and saying I hoped you could visit someday.”

  He barely finished the sentence before I was saying, “You were not 18. You have to quit saying that,” trying to sound stern. “You just wish you had been 18.”

  “I had forgotten about the goats until I read last night’s installments. That was funny, getting stopped on a major road by a herd of goats,” he said.

  “Yes, but it still makes me grin to remember watching you try to push that goat out of the car. Julia and Marisa got a kick out of that picture when I first shared the photos of my trip.

  I remember showing them one of the pictures and saying how it was like the landscape jigsaw puzzles the three of us liked to do. Perfect scenes of little white houses dotting the lush green surroundings, with mountains in the background and clear blue sky.”

  “You know, that’s not what I remember most about that drive.” I could hear the chuckle in his voice and had no idea what was coming next.

  “Really, what’s that?”

  “It was what I had to do when you wouldn’t stop trying to tickle me.”

  My memory was completely blank. “What are you talking about?”

  “I told you that if you didn’t stop, I was going to handcuff you to the steering wheel.”

  I burst out laughing, “Oh my God, I had forgotten all about that, but you were the one who started the whole thing. You were the one who couldn’t resist brushing your hands across the tips of my breasts. I had to do something to retaliate.”

  “Now that I think about it, why the heck did you have handcuffs in the car? Is there this kinky side of you that I never knew?” I said, chuckling.

  “So, do you want me to have a kinky side? Or are you looking for an excuse to take these fantasies to a whole new level? Usually all I have to do to get the waterfall going is say, ‘Hey there,’ and your mind starts racing.” That comment got us both laughing so hard. And me turning red, because he was right.

  “And by the way, I had the handcuffs in the car because of my job, but they worked very well on getting one naughty little girl to stop trying to tickle me. And you were cuffed to the steering wheel for less than a minute. Maybe I need to find a pair for when we meet in New York,” he said, trying to be as serious as he could.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh yes I would,” he teased. He didn’t bring handcuffs, but he did bring a few surprises. I couldn’t blame him. Some of the letters that I wrote before we saw each other were going places I never knew I could imagine.

  • • •

  My parting memory, however, of my trip was the time I spent with Gunnar. He had been around most of the time we were at the family home. He had been so sweet to me. I don’t think he understood why this woman had come all this way to see his brother, but the last conversation he and I had told me he had understood much more than I thought he did.

  The day I was to leave, Rune was asked to cover a shift at work. He asked Gunnar, “Would you mind taking Gwynyth to the airport? I need the extra shift they offered me, so I won’t be able to take her to the airport.”

  “No problem. I’ll be happy to. How could I refuse, when she was nice enough to make us breakfast this morning?”

  They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and that was definitely true for this 20-year-old kid. I had driven into town that morning to get food for breakfast. I was a little terrified for a number of reasons. One, I wasn’t comfortable driving a car in a foreign country. And two, I didn’t speak the language.

  But I wanted to do something nice for all the hospitality they had shown me, so I did what any good Cajun would do, and made them breakfast. And as odd as it seems now, I actually brought both of them breakfast in bed.

  “Good morning, sleepy head. I made you some breakfast.”

  “Wow, that is very nice of you. And all of my favorites – bacon, fried eggs, toast, and orange juice – how did you know? And the bacon is cooked just perfect,” Gunnar said, showing off the family’s trademark smile.

  I had been given instructions on how to cook the bacon from Rune, but our ideas were totally different. Crispy and golden brown is perfect in my world. In theirs, it was heated to where the fat was translucent or in other words, raw.

  “Enjoy! I’m going to go finish packing. Can’t believe it’s already time to go home.” I said as I left the room.

  • • •

  We chatted on our way to the airport. I was trying to be pleasant, but I was sad to be leaving. I didn’t have the closure I wanted from the trip, but also realized that I wasn’t going to get it, either.

  Gunnar was doing his best to keep me smiling, because I think he was terrified at the possibility of me breaking down and crying.

  I doubt if he even remembers, but he parked the car and came inside the terminal with me. It was 1984, when waiting with someone until their plane departed was something you could still do.

  “I hope you enjoyed your trip,” he said.

  “Yes, Norway is beautiful. It’s been one visual masterpiece after another that I have seen. Your country is beyond description. Words just can’t do it justice. It has been memorable in more ways than one.”

  “Not quite what you were hoping for from my brother, was it?” he said.

  “No, but it is what it is. And I can’t do anything about it.” For a 20-year-old kid, he was wise beyond his years. The look in his eyes told me he understood how I felt.

  As they called my flight, I stood up to board the plane. He gave me a big hug and said, “My brother is the biggest fool on this planet.”

  I just nodded and said, “Yes, he is.”

  Chapter 8 –

  When Life Gives You Lemons

  As much as I was in love with Rune, life continued without him. I dated now and then, but my focus was on making a good home for my daughters first, and then my career. However, it didn’t stop me from wanting to have someone to spend my life with, which caused a lot of angst, because of how love seemed to keep eluding me.

  I’m sure most of us, regardless of how old we are, remember having a similar talk with either your parents or you may have had it with your own kids, but the following conversation was one of the last ones I had with my dad before he died.

  Dad: “You know, it doesn’t do you any good to complain. No one really wants to hear it.”

  Me: “But why can’t I have it all? I’m a good person. Don’t I deserve to have what everyone else has?”

  Dad: “Gwynnie (that’s what he always called me), no one ever said life was going to be fair. You have to take the pluses and magnify them as much as you can to counter-balance the negative things in life.”

  I always took my dad’s words to heart
. My personal life was a disaster. It wasn’t that I didn’t give my all with my relationships, but I was just needy and desperate for a man to love me. I would jump into each relationship with no life preserver, because I thought if I was open, honest, and loved to the “nth” degree, I would be loved in return.

  My professional life, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. Excelling at jobs was easy. Many of them had their own unique challenges, and they didn’t always go the way I wanted them to, but they were all stepping-stones to where I am now.

  When my first marriage collapsed, it completely devastated me. My whole life, I had grown up with only one ambition. I wanted to be a wife and mother. I’ve never had, and to this very day, never enjoyed a job more than I did the years I was being a full-time mom. It’s not that I don’t love what I’m doing, because I do, but I loved being with my daughters, playing with them, teaching them, and being a wife.

  Life was a rude awakening when I was first thrown into the job market. I hadn’t worked since college, and since I had dropped out in our senior year to take care of our daughter while Alex finished school, finding a job wasn’t easy. I had no resume to speak of. I had jobs in high school and college, but they weren’t marketable skills.

  Interviews were difficult for me, to say the least. I had no idea what I was doing, no network to fall back on, and there wasn’t an internet to help us learn those skills.

  Back in the late seventies, a job search was: read the newspaper, circle the want ads that you were interested in, and just start calling and hope someone would talk to you. I went on many interviews, but I was told the same thing, always with one of two different twists at the end.

  Either they said, “Well, Ms. Rutledge, you have a lot of good qualifications, but unfortunately, we are looking for someone with a degree.”