Helsinki Sunrise by Marion Ueckermann Page B

involved with him?”
    “That’s none of your business.” The tightness in her voice was unmistakable.
    “You’re right.” His voice softened to a whisper, his eyes pleaded for an answer. “But I need to know.”
    With a sigh, she let out the one word Adam didn’t want to hear.
    “Yes.”
     
    ****
     
    Adam stepped up the two rows of benches and opened the small window. It was still stuffy in the sauna.
    As he lay down on the mattress, questions stung like the mosquito buzzing around his head. What had possessed him to push her? Now that he had the answers he sought, did he really want that knowledge?
    He smacked his hands together in the air. The high-pitched noise instantly ceased. Adam reached for the bottle of insect repellant.
    If only there was a question repellant bottle—he could have avoided asking the ones he had, and escaped the questions their answers had raised.
    Was it right to feel the way he did about Eveliina? After all, she wasn’t in love with Joel. Perhaps her relationship with her boss had something to do with keeping her job? It was just a gut feel, but Adam was certain Joel wasn’t good for her.
    But unless Eveliina’s heart turned back to God, she wouldn’t be good for Adam. And until she made that change, they had no future together.
    Adam fluffed his pillow and sank down hard into it. Tomorrow, over the paint tins, he’d tell her how he felt. Then he’d tell her how Jesus felt.
     
     
     
     

11
     
    Eveliina dipped her roller in the paint tray again. She’d wanted to talk to Adam last night about his note in the laptop, about what he’d left unsaid on the jetty before Joel’s call interrupted. Adam finding out about her relationship with Joel had soured the evening. He went to bed shortly after.
    She lifted the roller carefully and placed it against the faded wood. Plank for plank, the cottage slowly turned a deep red. She glanced at Adam out of the corner of her eye. He had painted four wooden planks to her one. It wasn’t that she was naturally slow at this—Adam was a distraction. His arm muscles rippled as he moved the roller up and down. She could watch him work all day.
    Determined to break the awkward silence, she asked, “Do you work out, Adam?”
    “No. Why?”
    The innocence with which he asked convinced Eveliina that Adam was clueless to his physical appeal.
    She reached out and touched his upper arm, leaving a streak of paint on his skin. “You’re just…how do you say?—well-molded.”
    He stared at her, his face solemn. “Are you calling me a fungi?”
    “No…” Eveliina let out a nervous laugh. Was Adam messing with her?
    “You don’t think I’m a fun guy?” Confused, she looked for a softening in his features.
    He remained serious.
    “You’re well-shaped, that’s all,” she retorted.
    His sober look yielded to a wide grin, and that sparkle in his eyes. “Comes from building houses in Africa.”
    “Oh you…you just wanted me to say it again, didn’t you?” She flicked her roller at Adam. Red splashed over his chest and arm.
    He looked at his splattered body, then at Eveliina. She was in trouble. Dressed in painting clothes, she was fortunately prepared. She hurriedly charged her roller with paint, but when she looked up, it was into Adam’s roller as it brushed across the side of her face.
    Deciding a roller would take too long to exact her revenge—and Adam could easily disarm her—Eveliina dipped her hands into the paint tray. This was war. She attacked, smearing her hands over Adam’s chest and face. They’d emerge from this battle like wounded soldiers.
    Finally, as their laughter subsided and they both caught their breath, Adam cautioned, “If we don’t stop playing around now, we won’t have enough paint to finish the job. I’m anxious to get done so we can relax…and talk.”
    He wanted to talk? What were they waiting for?
    She grinned at Adam. “Let’s wash off in the lake. We can relax and talk there.” Maybe he’d