The Wooden Chair (25 page)

As Leini listened, she kept nodding, small rapid movements of her head. “I didn’t know you’ve talked to her. I’m not surprised she’s defensive. Try again, Papi, one more time.”

“I won’t, not again. It would only lead to another ugly argument.”

“Then leave her; think about yourself for once. You have the right to live your life. At least, give it some thought, will you?”

“Yes.” A mere whisper.

She studied his pale face, the shoulders stooped, head bent. Deep inside, she knew he wasn’t going to leave Mira. She said what was on her mind. Now she must let it rest.

Quickly she found a tissue in her handbag before the tears spilled over.

Chapter 26

Geneva, Fall 1957

Leini scanned the crowded room, nonplussed as to why she’d let Vickie talk her into coming to this party. Vickie was a Swiss student she befriended on her first day at the university. Her pragmatism contrasted with Leini’s more romantic disposition, differences that drew them to each other. After a lengthy conversation they decided they hit it off well enough to room together and were fortunate to find a one-bedroom apartment at a reasonable rent.

Laughter and disjointed chatter competed with loud music from hidden speakers. Waves of heat from the street below wafted through the open windows. The pungent smell of pot mixed with cigarette smoke hung in the air. Sipping lukewarm white wine from a plastic goblet, occasionally puffing on her cigarette, Leini stood in the throng of people, wishing she’d stayed with Paula’s family, lazing by the pool. Vickie shouted to be heard. “Have you seen anyone interesting? Are you having a good time?”

Leini shook her head . It was impossible to have a conversation in this cacophony. “This is a madhouse. I’m ready to leave if I can find my way to the door. How about you?”

“
Nah
, I’ll hang around some, see what happens.”

“I may be asleep when you come home.”

Brushing hair off sweat-damp forehead, Leini pushed and elbowed past the throng of bodies massed together, some standing as if nailed to the floor, others gyrating in something resembling a dance.

I have to get out of here or the heat is going to suffocate me.

Someone trapped her from behind, pinning her arms to the sides, a solid, muscular body pressed against her back.

“You seem as lost as I feel. Are you trying to find your way out of this inferno?” The voice spoke close to her ear, a deep, warm baritone.

Leaning against his arms, Leini twisted to the side to see a man a good head taller than she, his face tanned a burnished gold. She gazed into the kindest, gentlest gray eyes she’d ever seen. He was clean shaven, a captivating smile on his full lips. Not knowing what to say, she nodded, no longer sure what his question was or even if he’d asked one.

He released her long enough to put her arms around his neck. “Here, hold on to me and we’ll navigate together.”

With their arms around each other, he moved slowly, pushing and elbowing their way through. Every now and then his cheek brushed against hers, his perspiration mingling with hers. The heat of a flush crept to her face as she noticed her thigh was between his legs. The crowd thinned. Soon there were just a few scattered couples. Instead of letting her go, her “escort” ran his hands from shoulders along her back, arms encircling her waist. Without meaning to, Leini’s hands strayed to his damp neck and dark curly hair, worn shorter than was the fashion.

“Wow, what a struggle, but we made it,” he said. “I saw you looking so pale, I was afraid you were going to faint.”

“You were right. I felt pretty shaky for a moment. Thanks for rescuing me.”

He continued to stare at her face, his hands still around her waist. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Gosh, you’re pretty.” In the next instant he apologized. “You must think I’m very bold. You don’t even know who I am.”

Shaking her head, she smiled and watched as he raked a hand through very dark brown hair combed off a high forehead.

“My name is Arnault William Gardet, Bill for short. I’m an assistant district attorney and…”

Leini’s bell-like laughter interrupted him. “Happy to meet you, Bill. I’m Leini Bauman, first year psychology student.”

By the time they arrived in the street below, they were chatting like old friends. Her usual reserve around strangers had somehow disappeared. He was as familiar as if she’d known him most of her life. There was something so comfortable about him. Something very exciting, too.

The sun, low on the horizon, painted the towering cumulus clouds shades of deep rose and hot pink. The air was balmy, filled with the smell of tar and algae from the lake nearby.

Bill glanced at his watch. “Only seven-thirty. Would you like to have dinner with me? I know this very nice restaurant on a boat, just a few blocks from here. Their Filets de Perches and Tartar Sauce are delicious.”

Gazing into his eyes, she read something there she couldn’t define.

“Sorry. I’m being forward again.” He touched her arm. “Maybe you have other plans?”

Her heart quickened a beat. She smiled as she shook her head. “I don’t have other plans. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

On the boat-restaurant, they were shown to a window table overlooking the waters of Lake Geneva. The fish melted in her mouth, and the
pommes frites
were crunchy. Bill ordered a bottle of white wine, very palatable—pleasantly dry with a lingering aftertaste of apricot. During their conversation, she learned he was born in a small village in the Jura Mountains. After his parents died in a car crash when he was only eighteen, he moved to Geneva. She found swallowing difficult and touched his hand in empathy. “How very sad. It must have been hard to lose your parents, and you so young.”

“Yes, it was a shock. I immersed myself in law studies. Believe it or not, time eases all pain.”

And he mentioned he was estranged from his older sister.

She wanted to ask how old he was, but didn’t dare.
He’s probably much older than I. He must think I’m too young for him.
And a warm flush suffused her face to think something so forward.

Leini found it difficult not to stare at him. Without intention or design she took his measure. He seemed at ease, comfortable with himself. She liked the way he dealt with the waiter, courteous and respectful without familiarity.

While they waited for their dessert, Bill leaned against the back of his chair, staring at her.

“I hear a faint accent that I can’t place?” His raised eyebrows asked the question

“I’m from Finland. Helsinki to be exact.”

He leaned elbows on the table, eyes intent on her. “Hey, that’s interesting. I’ve read a lot about your country. The summer Olympics in 1952, Paavo Nurmi took umpteen gold medals. Your great composer Jean Sibelius, his majestic, mystic music. Marshal Mannerheim is my hero” He sipped his wine. “And the sun never sets in summer.”

She chuckled. “I’m impressed! Most people couldn’t find Finland on the map.”

He shrugged. “Finland has always fascinated me.” After a pause, he asked: “Is your family there?”

“Yes, my parents, Samy my brother, Grandma Britta. And Karl, my uncle. I lost my grandpa a few years ago.” She swallowed hard.

After dinner, Bill suggested he drive her home. She breathed in the fragrant air; the night was warm, the full moon crimson as it bounced off the calm surface of the lake.

“I’d rather walk, if you don’t mind. The night’s too beautiful to waste. It’s not far to where I live.”

“Good. I like walking at night.”

They sauntered along a nearly deserted street, encountering a couple walking their dog; a drunk weaved his way past them, eyes vacant. Now and then they stopped to gaze into shop windows displaying breathtaking jewelry, gems and watches. She gave a little shiver as his bare arm touched hers. She could have walked for hours, liking him by her side, enjoying the companionable silence between them.

At the front door to the flat, Bill held her by the shoulders, gazing for a long moment into her eyes.

“It’s been a wonderful evening.”

“Yes, it was lovely.”
Oh, please, let him ask me out. At least that he’ll take my phone number.

He smiled. “I’d like to see you again.” And added as an afterthought. “If you want to, of course.”

Her heart leaped in her chest, and she felt light, weightless. “I would like that. When?” Her cheeks burned that she dared ask.

With the fingertips he caressed her cheek. “Tomorrow. How about tomorrow?”

She could only nod, longing for more, not knowing quite what.

“Would you like to go sailing? I have a boat on the lake.”

“Sailing! I’d love to go sailing.”

* * *

When Leini awoke, she prepared for the day, as quiet as possible not to wake Vickie. Brushing her hair, in a black and gold one-piece bathing suit, she stared at her image in the mirror. There she was, breathless from excitement and anticipation at the prospect of a day on a boat with a man she only met the day before. Who was this Arnault William Gardet? Could she trust him? What if he hurt her? What if he forgot her, like Mira. What if…?

She shook her head at the face in the mirror.
No “what ifs.” He isn’t Mira. I’m going to risk trusting him.
And realized she felt too much too soon.
I know nothing about him.
On the heels of the thought came the rationale,
He’s very nice.

A day in Bill’s company turned into a day of pampering, of being treated like someone special. She stood in the prow ready to cast off. After that he wouldn’t allow her to lift a finger.

“I do know how to sail,” she said.

“That’s good. Today you’re my guest. I can handle this boat on my own, so I want you to relax. Enjoy the sun and leave the rest to me.”

Leaning on elbows, she inhaled deeply. The smooth surface of the water, the hot sun on her skin tempted her. “It’s such a gorgeous day, I’m going for a swim.” At his alarmed look, she grinned. “I know how to swim, too.”

“I’m sure you do, but the currents are treacherous. Use a line, just in case.”

“Of course. I always do.”

Leini tied a rope around her waist and hooked it to a long nylon line in the boat. Diving off the side in a graceful arch, she cleaved the surface, going deep, the hand-warm water a surprise, used as she was to much colder temperatures in Finland. The water was like a gentle caress against her sun-warm skin. When she surfaced, she waved at Bill, the boat farther away than she’d expected.
He’s right, the currents are strong.
Leini saw him sink the anchor to allow her to catch up. She liked everything about him; the muscles at play under his smooth, tanned skin; the sparse hair on his chest; the…everything. Her cheeks burned, whether from the sun or from his nearness she wasn’t sure.

As he drove her home, she sat straddled behind him on his motorbike, arms wrapped around his waist, breasts pressed against his back. This close to him, she kept holding her breath, wishing the ride wouldn’t end. By her front door she took deep breaths to still the flutter inside. And when she spoke, it sounded so trite to her ears, not at all what she wanted to say.

“I’d invite you upstairs to meet my friend, but I’m afraid she’s not at home.”

This was strictly not true; Leini had no idea where Vickie was, but a sense of propriety wouldn’t let her be alone with him in the flat if Vickie wasn’t there.

“I’ll meet her another time, I hope.” He smiled. “You’re a very nice girl. I’d like to see you again, but I don’t think it would be suitable.”

For a moment, she couldn’t think for the confusion his comment caused. Disjointed thoughts bounced in her head. “What?” she said at length. “What’s unsuitable about seeing me?”

“You seem very young, probably not twenty yet.” A statement. “And I’m twenty-nine, a lot older than you.”

Her heart leaped, cheeks hot from embarrassment. She was also indignant, as if he’d studied her and found her wanting.
I thought I was too young for him when I first met him.
“I’ll be nineteen in November, next month.”

“Oh my, Leini, that makes me ten years older than you. That’s a big age difference.”

A toss of her head sent strands of hair bouncing off her face. “I’ll not always be nineteen. With time, I’ll get older, too.” And heard how childish she sounded.

Bill’s laugh deep in his throat was warm. “You’re right about growing older. But no matter how old you get, I’ll always be ten years ahead of you.”

“The age difference doesn’t matter to me in the least.” She dug in her bag, found a wrinkled piece of paper and the stub of a pencil. “Here’s my phone number. Call me if you want, it’s up to you.” Before she inserted the key in the lock, she glanced at him. “Thanks for a very nice day.” And she let herself in, heart beats throbbing in every fingertip.
I so desperately want to fit in, but I always end up feeling rejected.

* * *

Days passed without a sign from Bill. After a couple of weeks the memory of the wonderful day on the lake seemed like a dream or wishful thinking.

The desk, crammed in a corner of the living room, was littered with papers and open tomes as Leini struggled to make sense of her notes from this morning’s lecture on Karl Jung’s “Analytical Psychology.” The shrill ring of the phone made her jump in her seat, but as Vickie answered, she continued to study.

“For you,” Vickie said.

Surprise hopped inside. Leini whipped her head to glare at the receiver Vickie held to her. New in town, she didn’t know anybody who would phone her unless it was Papi or Karl from Finland, Paula and her family having returned to Helsinki. She stood and grabbed the receiver, mouthing ‘Thanks’ at Vickie.

After a short conversation, she replaced the receiver in the cradle, softly, with both hands.

Vickie grinned at her as Leini returned to sit by the desk. “That was a very one-sided conversation. All you said was: ‘Oh,’ ‘Yes,’ and ‘At seven.’ What was it all about, or am I being intrusive?”

Dazed, Leini shook her head. “No, you’re not intrusive. It was Bill. Remember Bill whom I met the party some time ago?”