Because of Lauren: A Love Story Page 6
Bente might have been more than a little curious about the day’s events, but now she was downright intrigued. “He is what? How did that come about?”
“He knew how much I enjoyed being on the island and invited me to stay another day. I said I couldn’t because of church. He asked if he could come with me.”
Bente’s brow drew together in consternation. “He does know you are not Lutheran?”
“Yes, he knows. He still wants to come.”
It occurred to Bente that Lauren might not know how prominent Jonas Juul was. Debating whether to tell her, she decided to let her make the discovery herself and said only, “You must have made quite an impression on him.”
“He made quite an impression on me,” Lauren replied and added with an impish smile, “We didn’t confess undying love for each other if that’s what’s worrying you.”
That brought a smile to Bente’s face. “I’ll take your word for it. Good night, Lauren.” Shaking her head and laughing softly, she turned and headed toward the staircase.
“Good night.” Lauren checked the doors, turned out the lights and headed down the hall to her room. She made quick work of getting ready for bed, said her prayer, and exhausted, snuggled under the comforter. Her thoughts were filled with Jonas. She could still feel his strong arms around her, his gentle kiss, and see his wonderful face so full of laughter. She thought of the laughter and teasing they had shared that day. It made her smile. She closed her eyes and gradually drifted off to sleep, a soft smile still on her lips.
The house phone was ringing when Jonas entered his apartment. Who would be calling this late on a Saturday night? Closing the door, he walked over and picked up.
“Juul here.”
“Jonas, will you come to my baptism?” came an excited young voice over the line. “It is next month, and I really want you to be there.”
Jonas’ eyes crinkled in amusement. It was that little scamp, Leah Andrews, the eight-year-old daughter of his friends, Jake and Allison Andrews. She was calling from New Jersey and probably without her parents’ permission.
Before he had a chance to respond, she charged ahead. “And thank you for my birthday present. I love it! Mom says I have to write a thank you note, but I think calling is better ‘cause then I get to talk, too.”
“Take a breath, sweetheart,” Jonas encouraged, “then tell me all about it.”
“But will you come?” she pleaded. “You’re the one I most want to be there.”
Jonas could picture Leah holding the phone while bouncing up and down with excitement. She was an adorable child with a zest for life that was contagious and big blue eyes that looked at you as if you were the most important person in the world.
“Tell me again,” he said. “When is the big day?”
“I don’t know the date exactly, but it is going to be the first Saturday of next month.”
Jonas glanced at the desk calendar and noted the date. “And does your mother know you are calling me?”
“W-e-l-l,” the little girl dragged out slowly, “she would have if I had asked her, but she was a little busy changing Henry’s diaper.”
“Ah!” He chuckled, then stopped talking when he heard muted voices in the background. Leah had been caught.
“I think I have to go now,” she said hurriedly. “Don’t forget! Bye Jonas.”
Before he had a chance to reply, a tentative female voice came on, “Jonas? Is that you?”
“Hello, Allison! I think you can dispense with the Thank You note. Leah preferred a more personal way of thanking me.”
He heard Allison’s resigned voice on the other end. “She prefers her own way in most things, as you know. She’ll give me gray hair long before my time.”
“I’ve been invited to a baptism,” Jonas informed her. “First Saturday of next month?”
“Oh Jonas, don’t let her pressure you. Not that we wouldn’t love for you to be there, but Leah has a little problem with distances. She refuses to accept that Norway does not border New Jersey.”
“Sound reasoning on her part if you overlook the ocean in between,” he suggested lightly. “I’ll try to be there.” He paused a moment, then added, “If I can make it, may I bring someone?”
The line went quiet. Jonas could almost feel her curiosity and, because Allison and Jake were his dearest friends, he confided, “I’ve met someone, Allison. Someone very special.”
The gladness in Allison’s voice carried clearly across the Atlantic. “Oh Jonas! Of course you must bring her. Is she Norwegian?”
“No, American actually, but we met here. She lives in New York.”
“Tricky,” was her only comment.
“We’ll work it out.”
He sounded confident. Allison hoped he was right. If anyone deserved to fall in love, it was Jonas. She hoped the girl was wonderful and just right for him. No one deserved it more.
“Leah may have something to say about this,” she said with a soft laugh. “She informed me just today as I was changing Henry’s messy diaper that when she grows up and marries you and has babies, you will be changing all the diapers.”
“You just made my day!” he laughed factiously. “I’ll keep in touch. Give Jake my best.”
Jonas walked toward the large bank of windows making up one wall of his living room. Almost unseeing, he looked out on the harbor and thought of Lauren.
The moment he first saw her he’d felt the pull of attraction, but believing she was only a girl, dismissed it from his mind and concentrated on getting to know the delightful young woman who had traveled so far to meet him. As the conversation flowed between them and he learned more about her, it became clear that she was no child but a mature and intelligent woman.
Today with Lauren had been a revelation. She was the woman he had always hoped to find but had begun to doubt he ever would. And tonight she had looked at him with love in her eyes and silently asked for a kiss. How could he have refused? She had cuddled in his arms as if she belonged, as if she were a part of him. He held her there, close to his heart, for a long time.
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and sighed. He could not lose her. Not now when he had just found her.
Chapter Five
Lauren was slipping into her shoes Sunday morning when the doorbell rang. She opened the door, ready with a friendly “Good morning” that died on her lips when she saw the elegant man standing before her. Dressed in a well-cut light gray suit, a crisp white shirt, and a very handsome tie, Jonas stepped across the doorstep and into the hall.
“Hello Lauren,” he smiled and kissed her cheek lightly. “Ready?”
Refusing to feel flustered by the innocent kiss and his impressive appearance, she nodded and reached for her purse and scriptures on the hall table.
“The family is away for the day,” she explained as she locked the door behind them. “They won’t be back until early evening.”
“So, you are on your own today?”
“Yes.”
“Spend the day with me? Unless you have other plans.”
Lauren could think of nothing she’d rather do than spend the day with him. “No plans. And I’d like that.”
Soft organ music reached them as they entered the church. At the open chapel door, she stopped.
“Do you care where we sit?” she asked in a whisper.
“No. You lead the way, and I’ll follow.”
Walking reverently down the aisle, Lauren smiled a greeting to people she knew. As she slid onto the pew, she noticed more interest directed at her than usual and wondered why. She was hardly a stranger to the congregation.
Jonas took his seat beside her but left a respectable space between them. He did not seem uncomfortable though, and when the meeting started, he listened, opened the hymnbook for them to share, and sang along.
Lauren had not explained about the sacrament, but seated at the end of the row, Jonas took the tray from the deacon when it was offered and passed it to her. He has done this before, she thought, surprised. Sometime, somewhere Jonas had attended a sacrament service.
She glanced at him a few times during the service. Each time he appeared to be listening attentively to the speakers. At the close of the meeting, he again opened the hymnbook and shared it with her, then folded his arms and bowed his head reverently during the closing prayer.
After the prayer, he leaned over and said, “I’ll be right back.” He got up and moved toward the front of the chapel, heading straight for the last speaker. She saw Jonas approach him, shake his hand, and then engage him in conversation.
“Someone you know?” she asked when he returned to her.
He shook his head. “Something he said interested me. I had a question,” he replied easily. “Where to next?”
She looked at him. “You have been holding out on me. You have attended our church before.”
“Yes, with Jake and his family,” Jonas acknowledged.
Lauren looked at him thoughtfully. That explained a lot of things. She had questions, but they could wait. Instead, she asked, “Do you want to stay for the other meetings?”
“Aren’t you going to?”
“Yes, but I can take the bus home if that’s too much religion for you in one day.”
“Lauren.” His voice was low but firm.
“Mm-hmm?” She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning.
“We are in this together. Now, stop grinning and show me which way to Sunday school.”
“You are such a fraud,” she whispered so only he could hear.
He merely smiled and winked at her.
Jonas did a double-take in Sunday school class. Lauren introduced him in fluent Norwegian. As they had always spoken English together, it had not occurred to him that she spoke the language. The look on his face was priceless. He reached over and checked her scriptures. They were in Norwegian. “Fraud!” he mouthed in her ear.
The byplay did not go unnoticed. Finally, someone said, “How about sharing the joke?”
Jonas looked up and, with a chuckle, shared the joke in such an amusing way that he had them all laughing.
To Lauren’s surprise, several people sought Jonas out after church. She stood to the side and visited with friends while observing him smiling and nodding, shaking hands, and chatting with the ease of someone who had done this many times before.
After patiently waiting several minutes, old Mrs. Gustavsen finally got her turn. Her sweet, wrinkled face was full of smiles, and her eyes twinkled with delight. Jonas listened attentively as he held her hand between his. They chatted back and forth a while and then Lauren saw him lean down and hug her.
Back in the car, she was dying to know about their conversation. After several minutes of silence, curiosity won out. “Have you and Mrs. Gustavsen met before?”
In measured tones, Jonas replied, “No, and if you will be patient, I’d rather tell you about our conversation when we get home.”
“Home where?”
“I thought my apartment. Unless you are uncomfortable with that.”
No, she was not uncomfortable with that. From everything she had learned about Jonas, she knew he was an honorable man. And he was family. “No, your apartment is fine,” she told him. “As long as you plan on feeding me.”
His apartment was on the top floor of a six-story building. The ground floor held shops, the second comprised offices, the third, fourth and fifth were all high-end apartments, and he alone occupied the top floor, living in what Lauren privately thought of as isolated splendor. The entry hall opened into a wonderful room full of light with spectacular views of the harbor and the surrounding mountains. In one corner of the room stood a splendid ebony grand piano, while patio doors opened to what appeared to be a surprisingly large terrace. Warm, inviting colors decorated the comfortably furnished home and were enormously appealing to Lauren.
She put her purse and scriptures on the large hall table, then crossed the room to the wall of windows.
Jonas slipped out of his suit jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. His tie soon followed as he undid the top button of his shirt.
“Your view is fabulous,” said Lauren. “I’d trade this for my Manhattan apartment any day.”
He came up behind her and lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not sure I could live in Manhattan on a permanent basis. I’d feel too closed in.”
“I’ve adjusted. I don’t live too far from Central Park, where I have a favorite park bench I escape to from time to time.”
“Do you feel safe where you live?”
“Very. My apartment building has a doorman, and I live in a nice family neighborhood away from all the skyscrapers.” She tilted her head toward him. “Of course, it can’t hold a candle to your island. I hope you invite me back someday.”
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “You have an open invitation. Family privilege.”
She turned around and faced him. “I may take you up on that.”
“I’m counting on it. Hungry?”
“Starving,” she admitted with a light laugh.
The day turned out nicer than expected, so Jonas suggested they eat on the terrace. She watched as he prepared mouthwatering open-faced sandwiches, and then to her delight, along with a bowl of fresh fruit, he magically produced a selection of small cream cakes.
They chatted companionably throughout the meal until her curiosity became overwhelming and she brought up the subject of Mrs. Gustavsen. “Is now a good time to ask about her? She seemed quite taken with you.”
“I was quite taken with her,” said Jonas with a slow smile. “If you will be patient a little longer. . .” He passed the plate of small cakes to her, then chose one for himself. “You can ask all the questions you want,” he promised.
Chapter Six
Because Jonas refused to let her help with cleaning up, Lauren returned to the terrace. Standing by the protective wall, she took in the scene below. Pleasure boats now filled the harbor that had once been home to the old fishing fleet and anchored at the international pier further out were several large cruise ships. That meant only one thing: the city would be overflowing with tourists. Could anything compare to Bergen on a sunny summer day?
At eighteen she had fallen in love with this city. Eleven years later, her feelings had not diminished. And what a place to view it from, she thought, looking around Jonas’ terrace. Flower boxes containing a profusion of blooms lined the four-foot wall, and large planters added an abundance of gorgeous color. With the handsome teak furniture, the terrace was spectacular and inviting.
She was leaning over the wall when she felt Jonas’ arms pulling her back. “Careful,” he cautioned. “It’s a long way down.”
Lauren turned with a smile. “I was curious about the cheerful noises from below. Sounds like some kind of celebration is going on.”
“We can go look if you’d like,” he suggested mildly. “It’ll be far safer.”
“Maybe in a while.” She looked at his serious face. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, fine. Ready to have your curiosity satisfied?”
Lauren looked at him, her large eyes serious. “Only if you don’t mind.” She hadn’t forgotten his somber mood following the visit with Mrs. Gustavsen.
“I don’t mind,” he assured her.
“Can we stay out here?”
“Of course.” He motioned for her to take a seat then sat down across from her. After a few moments he began, his voice deep and thoughtful. “That elderly lady at church . . .”
Lauren waited.
“She packs quite a punch for an octogenarian. By the time she finished with me, I was more than a little stunned.”
Jonas smiled. “You mean I didn’t look as shell-shocked as I felt? That’s something, because that feisty little lady claimed to have known my grandmother. Apparently both their families joined the church when she and my grandmother were children, and the two were friends until my grandmother’s death.”
Lauren looked at him in surprise. “And you didn’t know.” It was not a question.
He shook his head. “No. My grandmother was a spiritual woman, but I don’t believe she ever went to church. When I told her that, she said there was a reason for it, that soon after my grandparents were married, my grandfather forbade his wife to attend that church anymore.”
Knowing of her own grandfather’s attitude toward the Church, Lauren was not as shocked by that piece of information as Jonas seemed to be. Seeing the pain on his face, she offered the only comfort she could think of. “There were many misconceptions about the Church in the old days. Still are, for that matter. It doesn’t mean your grandfather was a bad man, Jonas. According to my own grandmother, that attitude was actually typical of many Norwegians of that time period.”
“Thank you.” He held out his hand to her. “Come sit by me while I tell you about my grandmother.”
Lauren looked at him. He looked so serious, nothing like the cheerful and lively companion of yesterday. Sister Gustavsen’s information must have had a profound impact on him. She got up and slid onto the seat next to him.
He reached for her hand, then continued. “Now that I know she was a Latter-day Saint, some things make sense that I always put down to strange coincidences. And it was because of my grandmother that I started searching for my extended family.
“By all accounts, my great-grandmother was something of a spoiled and unwise young woman. And according to my grandmother, exceptionally beautiful. She had a secret relationship with a married man, and when she found she was expecting a child, she left her hometown in eastern Norway and moved to Bergen, where she stayed until her baby was born. The baby was my grandmother. After the birth, my great-grandmother returned home, leaving her newborn with a childless couple who very much wanted a baby.”