Authors: EMME CROSS
“I had the best time.” Sunny beamed up at Sven after they’d come up for air, oblivious as always to the tumult around them. “The instructor is really strict but he showed me how to do a proper twirl and even a jump. Most of the other students are barely older than Bliss. They can skate rings around me but it’s so much fun to learn something new. Thank you,” she added with a kiss, “for arranging my figure skating lessons.”
Sven smiled down at her enthusiastic face with its reddened nose and cheeks. How he would have loved to warm her up properly, right here and now.
“Thank my mother. She set it up. She’s also the one who agreed to babysit.”
“Agreed?” snorted Sunny. “I practically had to pry Bliss away for a goodbye kiss. How was your meeting? Did you get the funding from the Arts Council?”
“It looks like we’ll be coming back this spring so I can get to work on the screenplay for ‘Edvard Munch and the Scream.’ We’d better find a place to live. As much as I love my mother, there is no way we can all three spend four months or more in my old bedroom. Mother’s place is a little cramped now that Charlotte shows no sign of moving out.”
“Your poor sister. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to deal with a divorce and a custody battle. Besides, it’s nice that Judith can get to spend time with her granddaughters. I think we should look for something close by so the children can hang out together. I want Bliss to be friends with her cousins. I never got that chance when I was growing up.”
Sunny had been a teenager when she finally met her extended family, after they moved to Edmonton in Canada following her father’s first stroke. Before that, Douglas O’Hara’s work in the oil and gas industry had taken him and his daughter all over the world. After his death, Sunny had moved to her late mother’s birthplace of St. Barts. Sunny had met and fallen in love with Sven on this idyllic Caribbean island. They still had a home there, but for the past eighteen months they had been living in Venice Beach in California, so that Sven could be close to the movie studios in Hollywood. He had one more acting job to complete and then they would pack up
en famille
to spend the spring and summer in Norway.
Sunny couldn’t wait. After her lonely childhood, roots were extremely important to her and she looked forward to spending more time with Sven’s mother Judith, and getting to know the rest of his family and friends.
And here they came now — Sven’s old friends from university.
Sunny hugged the two men, whom she’d met at Judith’s reception the previous summer. Ed worked in construction and had a wife and two young sons who might become playmates for Bliss.
Stellan was a bachelor who was shy with women, but he returned Sunny’s hug looking delighted to see her again. He collected stamps and Sunny, remembering this, had sent him samples from the many countries she’d visited.
Hanging back from the group was a spectacular-looking woman Sunny guessed to be Astrid, Sven’s former lover. After they’d exchanged kisses, he introduced the two women.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you. We missed you last summer. I’ve heard nothing but raves from Sven about you and I can see why.” Sunny smiled. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Astrid was taken aback by the warm greeting. She had been certain that Sunny would be a bitch. Instead, here was this friendly, non-competitive woman. The word that came to Astrid’s mind was ‘smug.’ Sunny had won Sven and was now being condescending.
Ed and Stellan hustled Sunny towards the bar, stating loudly that the rich Americans could pick up the bar tab.
At last Astrid was alone with Sven. “The boys are on a sleepover tonight so I have nowhere I have to be. . .”
Sven smiled down at her. Never mind his wife, thought Astrid, it was going to be okay.
His next words surprised her. “How are your sons?”
This was the first time he’d ever asked about her boys, in the entire time they’d known each other.
“Um, they’re fine.”
“I can’t imagine Bliss growing up. I can’t wait until she’s doing more than babbling nonsense. It must be wonderful to have older kids around the house.”
Astrid was still trying to formulate an answer when the drinks arrived.
Ed and Stellan had apparently convinced Sunny to play pool for money.
“I think they want to empty our bank account!” she shouted over, wiping away most of her moustache of beer foam and picking up a cue.
“You guys live in Hollywood! Everyone knows Oscar winners are loaded and this is our chance to cash in. I could also use Sven’s autograph on some posters I want to flog online,” laughed Ed. He gently took her cue away before Sunny put out someone’s eye.
Being back with his old friends reminded Sven of ‘real’ life, back before celebrity got in the way and he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Sunny fit right in. He smiled as he watched Ed try to explain the rules of eight ball to his wife and he failed to notice Astrid’s thigh pressing against his. “Hey!” Sven shouted in Norwegian, “Hands off!” as Ed stood behind Sunny to show her the proper way to hold a cue.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Sven tried to pay attention to what Astrid was saying but it was difficult. His gaze kept returning to Sunny, especially her ass in those tight jeans as she leant over the table to take a shot. They had been married for two years and had been together longer, but he still couldn’t get enough of her — in or out of bed. He hadn’t been tempted by another woman since the moment they exchanged vows, and this amazed even him. But no other woman made him feel like she did. After a couple of close calls early in their relationship that had almost split them up for good, there was no way Sven would take the risk of cheating on Sunny again.
Astrid sat beside Sven in silence. He hadn’t noticed her thigh pressed against his under the table. He hadn’t commented that her sweater brought out the arctic blue of her eyes. He hadn’t said a word about how her hair was like wheat blowing across the Ukrainian steppes. Nothing. He was treating her like he treated Ed and Stellan — just another old friend from university.
Finally he gave her his full attention. Astrid had forgotten how blue his eyes were and how they could burn with intensity.
“So what do you think of Sunny?”
Astrid turned to look at Sven’s wife, who was just then getting Norwegian lessons from Stellan. The beer had apparently loosened his tongue. It sounded as if he was teaching Sunny swear words and she was giving the equivalent expletives in different foreign languages. All three were laughing.
“She’s not what I expected.”
Astrid had assumed Sven’s Hollywood honey would be plastic, self-absorbed and chosen with an eye on his career. Sunny looked like the babysitter next door. Astrid saw that all the men in the bar were eating her up with their eyes and she thought she must be missing something. She took a closer look. Warm smile, the kind of hair a man would love to see spread out over his pillow, eyes of a deep green colour that might change colour with her mood. Curves. Large rounded breasts, a small waist and what her mother would have called child-bearing hips. Her mother would also have said that Sunny’s body was ‘sinful.’
Astrid thought Sunny looked like a kind of earth mother; Gaia come to life. She was young and pretty but . . . untidy. From her freckles to her crumpled T-shirt to her huge head of curls she had a dishevelled and careless look. She was not at all the type of woman Astrid would have picked for Sven. She would have chosen someone older; controlled and professional looking. Somebody just like herself.
Astrid sat abandoned at the table. Sven had got up and was whispering something in Sunny’s ear that made her blush. He used his thumb to wipe away a smudge of pool chalk from her cheek. Astrid had to turn away from the look they exchanged.
Stellan appeared with a fresh stein of beer.
“We missed you this summer. You would have loved Judith’s party. It was lots of fun. It’s good to see him so happy, and who can blame him? Sunny’s one in a million.”
“Why?” Astrid blurted out the question before she could help herself. “She’s not so special. She’s more cute than hot.”
Stellan looked down at her almost with pity.
“A lot of women are hot. You’re hot. Sunny has something special — she’s warm. You can imagine coming home after a bad day and seeing her smile. It would make you feel better about the world.”
“My God, Stellan! I think you’re smitten.”
“What are you two talking about?” asked Sven.
“Stellan has a crush on your wife,” answered Astrid with more than a touch of malice.
Stellan blushed but didn’t deny it. “We’re pen pals.”
“I’ve been writing to Stellan for months, sending him stamps from my dad’s old letters. He’s a philatelist.” Sunny had to laugh at the sudden gleam in Sven’s eyes. “That means he collects stamps, silly.”
“Just like you to indulge in a retro hobby like that,” said Astrid.
“It may be retro but it’s getting more expensive now that so few people use snail mail. Sunny, I should pay you for some of the stamps you sent. The ones from the old Soviet Union are quite valuable.”
“It’s not the money, Stellan. It’s the pleasure that makes them valuable. I can’t imagine anyone enjoying them more than you.”
Glancing down at his watch, Sven signalled it was time to go.
“Be back in a minute,” said Sunny. “Ever since I had the baby, the cold wind gets to my bladder.”
Astrid took the opportunity to draw Sven aside. “I’m sorry you’re leaving so soon.”
He didn’t seem to pick up on her urgent, unspoken invitation. “I want to get home to tuck in Bliss. I’ve been busy all day and haven’t had a chance to spend much time with her.”
Astrid was still processing this revelation when Sven surprised her even further.
“You’re going to be around over the next few days?”
“Sure.”
“Sunny’s going out of town. I have a proposition for you. I’ll call you.”
Astrid’s heart leapt. She kept her face impassive.
“I look forward to hearing from you.”
As the couple said their goodbyes, Astrid smiled and thought; I knew it! I knew he’d be mine when he came home. Her triumph was somewhat dampened when she overheard Sven joking to his wife that they’d better get home to try philately — it sounded like it involved a lot of licking.
* * *
Astrid trudged up the front steps to her apartment. The evening hadn’t gone as she’d expected. She hoped that when Sven contacted her in the coming days they could rediscover their special connection.
She felt the knots in her shoulders loosen as she dropped her keys in the Baccarat crystal bowl beside the front door. As always she was calmed by the spare, almost minimalist lines of the space that was hers. She was heading up to bed when she realized the kitchen light was on.
She almost fell over when the voice said, “You’re alone.”
“You scared me. What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for your lover, but I see he’s not here. You must be losing your touch.”
“Don’t be insulting.”
“I saw the flowers on your bedside table; you were planning to pick up where you left off. What’s the matter? Has he gone off you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “He brought his wife.”
“His wife?” Her visitor started to laugh. It sounded malicious. “That must have stung. So I guess you didn’t get a chance to tell him.”
“It wasn’t the right time or place.”
“I’m running out of patience. Either you tell him — or I will.”
Astrid’s heart froze.
“I forgot my scarf. Oh for goodness’ sake! I wasn’t gone five minutes!” A flustered Judith stormed past the half-naked couple lying in front of the living-room fireplace. She bashed her way into the kitchen and returned with a cooking timer.
“I’ll be back in two hours. Be dressed and be decent.” Slamming down the timer on the coffee table, she stomped out.
Sunny and Sven erupted in laughter. “My poor mother! How many times has she walked in on us?”
Sunny wiped away tears. “The worst was when we were having sex while I was in labour with Bliss. I thought she was going to pitch a fit.”
“I’m not in so much of a hurry tonight,” said Sven pulling his wife to his naked chest and unhooking her bra with a single twist.
Sunny sighed as he began to stroke her breasts, gently rubbing his fingertips over her nipples.
“You still have to teach me how to get my bra off that easily.” She gasped as he bent down and nibbled on her. “I guess you’re so good at it because you’ve had so much practice.”
Sven examined her face. No sign of anger or jealousy. Nothing but a loving, slightly lustful smile.
“You don’t talk about all the other women nowadays. Did it bother you to see Astrid the other night?”
Sunny’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Of course not. But I have to admit she was even more beautiful than you said. I imagine when you made love it was like Narcissus having sex with his own reflection. The two of you look so much alike.”
He knew he shouldn’t press but he had to know.
“It won’t bother you if I call her when you’re away? Just to catch up. I have a business proposition for her.”
“Of course you should call her. And,” she said, slowly unzipping his fly, “you don’t need my permission. I trust you.”
She knelt down to finish undressing him, pausing along the way for a touch. A taste.
“Shouldn’t we be getting down to the business at hand?” she said stroking his penis. “We only have two hours until your mother’s back and there’s no way of knowing how long Bliss will sleep.”
“What do you say we try to give her a little brother or sister?” He mouthed the words in her hair and she pulled away in surprise.
“You mean it? You’re ready?”
“I know you want a big family. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you got pregnant now and gave birth when we’re here this summer? It would be nice if at least one of our children was born in Norway.”
Sunny’s expression made Sven’s heart melt. He hadn’t seen her look so happy since their wedding day.
“Oh Sven! That is the best idea ever.”
“And this time,” he said tracing his tongue along the side of her neck, “we’ll be together through the entire pregnancy. I’m not leaving your side. This trip to Moscow is the last time we’ll be separated until after our baby is born. Deal?”
“Deal. But you may not want to be with me during the pregnancy. I was sick to my stomach the whole time when I was carrying Bliss.”
“Until I got to St. Barts.”
“That’s right! Maybe they should bottle you as a cure for morning—” A kiss cut her off mid-sentence as his tongue explored her lips and mouth. After more than three years, the taste and feel of him still aroused her. She was so excited she couldn’t have formed a coherent thought if she tried.
Sven moved his lips to her ear. “We should start practising for the baby now. We have two whole hours.”
Sunny slid out of her jeans and lay naked and welcoming on the rug in front of the fire.
He stared down at her, his look full of love and lust.
“You know, when we were apart I’d watch that video of us making love when you were pregnant.”
“Yes?” said Sunny, knowing by the gleam in her husband’s eye that he had something in mind.
“It’s such a turn on. I often wish I were two people. Then I could make love to you and watch at the same time. I want to watch. I want you to touch yourself.”
“Touch myself?” Her voice and eyes were hesitant.
“Let me sit here and watch as you get so excited you can’t stand it anymore.”
“I never . . . you were the only person who ever really touched me.”
Sven was at his most persuasive. “Let me teach you. We’ll call this ‘masturbation 101.’ It’ll be like when we first got together and I was your sexual mentor. Just look at my face and follow my directions. You can see how excited I am by the idea,” he said, gesturing at his erection.
She was so inviting. The fire backlit her halo of curls and cast a rosy sheen on her flawless skin. Sven thought she was even more beautiful after the baby than before — her hips and breasts were a little riper, her nipples slightly darker, her eyes warmer and more inviting.
“Stretch out. All the way. Good. Now move your hair off your shoulders. I want to see all of you. Are you okay?”
Sunny smiled up at her husband. “I trust you.” She gasped slightly as he began stroking his dusky erection. Her body automatically responded to the sight of Sven pleasuring himself. Her nipples contracted and she felt the moisture at the apex of her thighs.
“Touch your breasts. Imagine it’s me. How would you want me to touch you?”
Sunny paused for a second and then gazed into Sven’s eyes, imagining his hands on her. Her fingers had a mind of their own. They traced the sensitive underside of her breasts and then teased and tweaked her nipples, caressing the nubs against her outstretched palms. The points were hard beneath her fingers.
“Good. Now let your hand drift across your stomach. Trace the muscles.”
Sven watched her, trying to control his own mounting excitement. He would soon have to start reciting the names of football teams to retain control of himself.
“Let your legs fall open and touch yourself.”
He moved from her feet to her side, kneeling as he stroked himself, watching her slowly run her finger through her glistening curls. He was almost undone by the sight of her opening in front of him like a dew-clad flower.
He watched her face. Sunny’s eyes were open; they always were when they made love, because she never wanted to miss a thing. She was flushed, from her cheeks down to her chest and cleavage. A kaleidoscope of emotions flitted across her face.
“You’re a chef,” he said in a husky, hypnotic voice he barely recognized as his own. “Taste.”
He watched as she took one slick finger from her vagina and sucked on it, licking it clean. Sven closed his eyes, trying to keep control as he felt a finger trace his lips, perfumed with her most private of juices.
He fell on her like a hungry man at a banquet, driving deeply in a single thrust, encased in her warm, moist, welcoming sheath. Her legs captured his hips and thighs. His hands tangled her hair and then dropped to close on her breasts and hardened nipples. He devoured her.
The silken friction slowly mounted. The familiar act had not become routine; it was still exciting. It had become more intimate with the passage of time and the accumulation of experience. Sven felt Sunny’s response — the calm silence before the storm. He heard her gasp and felt her womb shudder as she drowned in cascading ripples of pleasure. Sven knew from experience that if he opened his eyes he would see her transported, her face lit by a languorous half-smile. Image and sensation carried him over the edge.
Afterwards, cuddling by the fire she spoke first. “I like this practising. Can we do more before I go away?”
Any immediate plans for an encore were pre-empted by a small cry from the baby monitor.
He gave her a quick kiss. “Once we’ve dealt with our first child we’ll do more work on the second.”
Sven and Sunny picked up their discarded clothes and scampered up the stairs to see to their daughter.
“I want to be the first to tell her she’s going to be a big sister.”
Sunny looked over her shoulder and laughed. “What? Before the tabloids or the bloggers? Or are you afraid she’ll hear about it at daycare?’”
“Before my mother breaks the news,” responded Sven, picking up Bliss and checking her diaper like an expert. “She’ll be over the moon at the idea of becoming a grandma again.”
Sunny assembled the changing supplies. “Shouldn’t we wait until we have some news first? We only just decided to try again. It could take a while.”
Sven planted a kiss on his wife’s sweaty nose. “I have a feeling it won’t take any time at all. But then again, the longer it takes, the more we get to practise.”
* * *
“Did Sunny get off okay?”
Sven returned from the airport to find his mother making hospital corners on the fresh sheets and plumping the pillows on their bed. “She can’t wait to visit Raisa and Misha and see Moscow again.”
“Raisa may have a few complaints that she didn’t bring Bliss for a visit. She practically raised Sunny and she thinks of that baby as her grandchild. Here, give me a hand,” Judith said, tugging at the bed frame.
“What are you doing?”
“Moving the headboard away from the wall. I heard you saying goodbye to Sunny last night and again early this morning.”
“Far enough?”
“We’ll find out when your wife returns.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.” Sven gave an embarrassed grin. “We never meant to disturb you.”
“At least you didn’t wake the baby but I suppose she’s used to it.”
Judith fluffed the comforter, glancing sideways at her son. “Actually I’m relieved and glad.”
“What?”
“Well, judging by yesterday’s interlude beside the fire and your double header in bed I guess you haven’t grown bored.”
“Of course I’m not bored.” Sven was indignant at the very suggestion.
“You can’t blame me for being concerned. This is the longest relationship you’ve ever had. I was worried you’d want some . . .” she blushed, “variety.”
Sven had never had an intimate conversation with his mother until Sunny came along. He still found it strange to be discussing his sex life with her. “I’m anything but bored. But you’re right. I don’t even think about how long we’ve been together. It’s as if Sunny’s always been there and always will be. I can’t imagine being bored with her.”
Judith plucked Bliss out of her playpen. “We’re both happy to hear it.”
“Then,” said Sven, “you’ll be pleased to hear we are trying for another baby.”
Judith looked up in surprise.
“Bliss already knows. We told her last night. I take it you
are
pleased?”
“More than you can know,” said Judith reaching up to give her son a kiss.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I’m meeting up with Astrid.”
“Oh?”
“Six people is a crowd in a house this size, and we haven’t brought the dog yet. Sponge and Frigga will go nuts. It looks like the Edvard Munch project is a go and we’ll be back to stay this whole spring and summer, so we need a place to live. I’d feel bad if I gave the real estate commission to someone other than Astrid. I’m sure she can use the money.”
“Why can’t you stay here? I love having the three of you underfoot. We can work out a schedule and ensure you have your privacy.”
“It’s not just that, Mother. I’ll need a place to work and this house is just too small. Plus, Sunny and I have to work on a second child.”
“But — Astrid!” she spluttered.
“I thought you liked Astrid.”
“I do. But I’ve also gotten — I don’t know — vibes from her. I don’t know if you two should spend time alone.”
“Sunny trusts me. You should too.”
“I do. I’m just not certain I trust Astrid.”
“How about this? I’ll bring Bliss along when Astrid shows me the properties. It will be her house too. She should have a say.”
Judith looked relieved. “I think that’s a good idea. How will Sunny cope with all your houses, the travel and two children?”
“That’s something she’s going to talk about with Raisa when she’s in Moscow.”
* * *
The minute she disembarked into the chaos of Domodedovo Airport, Sunny was transported back to her childhood; its smells and the familiar language. She was happy to be back in Russia where she and her father had spent some of their best years.
She rubbed the noses of the dog statues and children’s shoes as she passed through the ornate subway stations. The brass had acquired a decades-old patina thanks to generations of Russians who had done the same, hoping for luck.
She relished the arguments with the merchants in the farmer’s market as Raisa rejected different items with a “Bah, bad cabbage” and an “Ah Hee” snort of derision. Afterwards they went back to the apartment for a marathon cooking session. Sunny recognized the battered pots and pans from the days when Raisa had been her father’s housekeeper. As a child she had whiled away the hours in the kitchen doing homework and trying to keep Raisa’s daughter Misha out of trouble.
“You know,” she said as she minced the onions for the
holubtsi
until they were so tiny they would melt into the rice and the sauce, “you could buy new pots.”
Raisa was offended. “You have been living in America too long. These are fine. Why would you need something new?” She stirred the tomato sauce and crimped the edges of the tiny perogies.