I shook my head.
“Why?” he asked nervously. Redness blossomed on his cheeks. I could see what that question had cost his heavily fortified pride. I could see that Rune didn’t ask anything anymore.
Closing the gap between us, I said in a hushed voice, “Because I’m pretty sure you never lost it.”
I waited. I waited with bated breath to see what he would do next.
I wasn’t expecting tender and soft. I wasn’t expecting for my heart to sigh and my soul to melt.
Rune, with the most careful of movements, moved forward and kissed me on my cheek, only inching back to drag his lips across mine. I held my breath in anticipation of a kiss on the lips. A real kiss. A kiss I yearned for. But instead, he bypassed my mouth for my other cheek, giving it the kiss my lips longed to gain.
When Rune pulled away, my heart was beating like a drum. A loud bass in my chest. Rune sat back but his hand, in my hand, had tightened a fraction.
A secret smile took refuge behind my lips.
A sound from over the creek pulled my attention—a duck taking flight into the dark sky. When I glanced at Rune, I saw he was watching it too. When he looked my way, I teased, “You’re already a Viking. You don’t need no bike.”
This time Rune smiled. The merest hint of teeth showed through. I beamed with pride.
The server approached, carrying our crawfish, and placed the buckets on the paper-covered table. Rune reluctantly released my hand, and we started ripping into the mountain of seafood. I closed my eyes when I tasted the meaty flesh on my tongue, a burst of lemon hitting my throat.
I groaned at how good it was.
Rune shook his head, laughing at me. I threw a broken bit of shell into his lap and he scowled. Wiping my hand on the napkin, I tipped my head back toward the night sky. The stars were bright in their cloudless blanket of black.
“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful as this little creek?” I asked. Rune looked up, then out along the quiet creek, the reflection of blue-stringed lights twinkling back at us.
“I’d say yes,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone, then pointed to me. “But I get what you’re saying. Even when I was back in Oslo, I would sometimes picture this place, wondering if you had been back.”
“No, this is the first time. Mama and Daddy aren’t real big crawfish fans; it was always Mamaw.” I smiled, picturing her sitting beside us at this table, after sneaking us away. “Do you remember,”—I laughed—“she would bring her hipflask full of bourbon with her, to slip into her sweet tea?” I laughed harder. “Do you remember her putting her finger over her lips and saying, ‘Now don’t y’all be telling your folks about this. I had the good grace to bring y’all here, rescuing y’all from church. So no loose lips!’?” Rune was smiling too, but his eyes were watching me laugh.
“You miss her,” he said.
I nodded my head. “Every day. I wonder what other adventures we could have been on together. I often wonder if we would have gone to Italy to see Assisi, just like we talked about. I wonder if we would have gone to Spain, to run with the bulls.” At that thought I laughed again. A peace settled over me, then I added, “But, the best part of all this is I’ll see her again soon.” I met Rune’s eyes. “When I return home.”
Like my mamaw had taught me, I never ever thought of what would happen to me as dying. The end. It was the beginning of something great. My soul would be returning home where it belonged.
I hadn’t realized I had upset Rune, until he rose from his chair to walk along the small pier next to our table, the pier that led to the middle of the creek.
The server came over. I watched Rune light a cigarette as he disappeared into the dark, only a cloud of smoke betraying where he stood.
“Shall I clear up, ma’am?” the server inquired.
I smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.” I stood, and he looked puzzled, seeing Rune on the deck. “Can we have the check as well, please?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
I walked out onto the deck to meet Rune, following the tiny speck of his lit cigarette. When I arrived at his side he was leaning over the railing, staring absently at nothing.
A soft crease was marring his forehead. His back was tense; it tensed even more when I stopped beside him. He took in a long drag of his cigarette and released it into the gentle breeze.
“I can’t deny what’s happening to me, Rune,” I said cautiously. He remained silent. “I can’t live in a fantasy. I know what’s coming. I know how this will go.”
Rune’s breathing was ragged and his head dropped. When he lifted his eyes, he said brokenly, “It’s not fair.”
My heart cried for his pain. I could see it racking his face, see it in the bunching of his muscles. Leaning forward on the railing, I inhaled the cool air. When Rune’s breathing had settled, I said, “It would have been really unfair had we not been gifted the next precious months.”