Time for New Beginnings

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Time for New Beginnings Page 14

by Mette Barfelt


  Mathilde looked at him, uninterested. “Exhausted and tired.”

  “Your heart isn’t strong. You need to be examined. I don’t like your stubbornness.”

  “We’re done with that discussion,” she said in a louder voice. “I’m staying where I am.” She turned her back to them to show that she stood by her words.

  “I’m not pleased with your condition. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Bettina left the bedroom while Erik packed his bag. How frustrating that Mathilde didn’t want help when she so obviously needed it.

  Bettina managed to get some alone time with Preben right before he was about to take off for the night. They snuggled up on the sofa in her bedroom, and she let out a breath. It had been a busy day. She had never thought it would be this exhausting to entertain guests. But then again, they weren’t just anyone. Hopefully, there was a connection.

  “I’m sorry for all the extra work,” he said and wrapped his arm around her. She looked at his soft lips and leaned closer. She let her fingers brush over his unshaved face that she wished was clean-shaven, and kissed him.

  “If I lived here I could have relieved you,” he continued.

  “I know. If it weren’t for my aunt, you would be sharing this bed with me.” She motioned toward the wide king-size bed, which had yet to be used as much as she thought and hoped when she moved here. They’d had little time to themselves, and there were always others to consider. And he had to go home at night due to work, and Mathilde. His parents were visiting now, so he was here more often. Time would be even scarcer when he only came to visit her on the weekends.

  “I was surprised when I discovered you had unpacked Christel’s baby equipment.”

  He turned crimson and looked at her with guilt in his eyes. “Father inquired about the packages in the garage. I told them it all belonged to Christel. They were curious, and I was a bit too eager. The whole thing was my fault.”

  This was just what she had suspected. “You seem to be completely obsessed with this baby.”

  His gray-blue eyes got a dreamy expression. “You’re right. I would love to have one of my own. Maybe we can start working on it now?”

  “Now? But it’s late, and you have to drive home any second.” And she was too tired to think of anything other than slipping under the comforter and falling asleep.

  “No, not right now. But on the weekends. We’ll have more time then for each other.” He kissed her again, as if it would change her mind.

  She didn’t think his idea was smart at all. “But I don’t want to get pregnant now. I don’t want a large belly when we get married. Who would?”

  He looked disappointed but nodded. “I get it.”

  “But we can start right after Christmas,” she said to console him. “If I get pregnant then, my belly won’t show at the wedding. It’s not that easy to get pregnant. It takes time. So we can start trying a few months before the big day.”

  He didn’t find comfort in that. “It’s so long until then.”

  She laughed to lighten the mood. “But I don’t intend to stop taking the pill just yet.” She turned serious again and was wondering if there was something else hiding behind his sad face. “You’re very concerned with Christel’s wellbeing. What are you feeling?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Memories emerge when you know a person that well. But let’s focus on you and me. Mother told me she’d be happy to help you with the planning. You can talk about it with her tomorrow.”

  “Sure.”

  Preben apparently wasn’t interested in talking about his feelings for his ex-wife, so she let it go. Her eyelids started drifting, and she needed to sleep. They would continue this conversation another day.

  ***

  Breakfast the next day was more relaxed. Bettina was getting used to making many omelets, but today they requested eggs and bacon. Christel went for stirred raspberry jam and ciabatta, and Anneli filled a bowl with cereal. The atmosphere was lively, and the conversation went on non-stop.

  “How would you like to be a big sister, Anneli?” Willy asked and rested his hands on his round tummy.

  “What? Are you pregnant, Mom?” She stared at Bettina in disbelief. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “No, no, of course I’m not pregnant.” Bettina glared at Willy, outraged, and couldn’t grasp what he was talking about. “Where did you get that from?”

  “Haha, take it easy. It was a hypothetical question. Nothing to get upset about.”

  She could feel her irritation reach new heights. What a jerk. Scaring them all like that. Well, that might be an exaggeration. Part of the problem was that she didn’t like her future father-in-law. That made it easy to overreact on trivial matters. She needed to choose her battles, and focus on the essential things.

  Elfrid intervened, like she often did, to smooth down what her husband had said or done. “It’s such beautiful fall weather today. I suggest we take a long car ride this afternoon. There are many cozy towns in the area. Then we’ll eat dinner somewhere nice and give Bettina a break. We have to remember that it’s a lot of work to serve so many meals a day.”

  Bettina gave her a grateful look. It would be good to get some breathing space.

  Willy finished his coffee. “Brilliant. I suppose you’ll join us, Christel?”

  “If it’s ok with you. It doesn’t sound too strenuous, sitting in a car.”

  Elfrid smiled. “You’re welcome to join us. What about you, Bettina? Are you able to get away?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t wait to have the house to herself for a few hours. She had no desire to join them whatsoever. “I have way too much to do. I’m going to bake cookies, but you go. There are many great sights around here.”

  “Preben will have dinner at work tonight, so we have plenty of time,” Willy said and stroked her back when he got up. She swiftly moved over to the fridge. Why couldn’t he keep his hands to himself? He was like an octopus. Couldn’t he touch his wife instead? There was plenty to touch there.

  Bettina let them entertain themselves with playing cards. She went out in the garden and started weeding the flower beds. In a few weeks the frost would make weeding unnecessary. This was Mathilde’s job and hobby. And still, here she was on all fours, digging around in the hard soil. It felt unfair to be left alone with all the work, while her aunt was lying under her warm comforter, enjoying life. She instantly felt bad. It wasn’t that much fun staying in bed, at least not over the last few days when she’d been sick. She couldn’t expect a person who wasn’t healthy to be running around the house doing their part of the work. It was unreasonable. And yet it was frustrating that Mathilde, who owned half the guesthouse, didn’t take responsibility for anything.

  Her thoughts went to her brother who hadn’t inherited anything from her uncle. She’d learned from her father that Lauritz was both upset and angry at having been left out. In his opinion, Uncle Herman should have divided the estate equally between the two of them. She agreed, but at the same time, she was delighted not to have to cooperate with him. It would never have worked. It would have simply been a nightmare. She hoped that he would stay in Spain and that it would be a long time until they saw each other again.

  At lunch, Elfrid started talking about the wedding again. It was evident that she was excited about helping to plan it, and it proved to be the main reason for their visit to Solvik.

  “Now you must share your thoughts with me, Bettina.”

  She explained once more that she wanted a small wedding, preferably in the garden.

  “So it won’t be a church wedding in the Oslo Cathedral like last time?” Willy looked at her with raised eyebrows; he obviously hadn’t given up hope of a magnificent event. She could tell it was what he wanted the most.

  “I was picturing you in my Jaguar, driving through the streets of the city center before stopping outside the church. You can fit thousands of people in front of the church. They’d be waving and cheering, like they did for the crown
prince and princess when they married there.” Willy thought about it for a second before adding, “Yes, like you did last time, Christel. That would be something.”

  Bettina shuddered. How could he possibly think she would want to do like last time? She was an independent person who wanted to make her own memories when she got married, not memories of his last wedding and everything Preben had shared with Christel. Moreover, a big wedding wasn’t for her. It just wasn’t her style. A garden wedding, on the other hand, was more appealing. She realized it was time to be more determined. “The Oslo Cathedral is out of the question.”

  “Let’s talk about flowers instead,” Elfrid said and helped herself to scrambled eggs. “It’s an easier subject. I don’t know if Preben has any preferences on that matter. Does he?” She looked at Christel, who shook her head after a moment’s hesitation.

  “You go ahead and choose.”

  Bettina let out a sigh. Not bad at all. It was easier to decide on flowers. “I love peonies. The white and light pink ones are the most beautiful. And they must be double, or whatever it’s called. Very thick, in any case. I don’t know much about this, but I’ll know what I want when I see it.”

  “I know what you mean,” Elfrid said. “Peonies would be wonderful both as a bridal bouquet and flower arrangement at the church.”

  “I’ll have to check what the florist has to offer. But at least that’s settled.” Bettina looked at the others, satisfied, and was proud to have control over something.

  Willy was lost in his thoughts. Flowers was not a topic he had strong opinions about.

  “I’ll gladly take care of the invitations if you want me to. But I need to know how many guests we are talking about first.” Elfrid refilled her coffee.

  Bettina knew she was back to where she’d started. Without knowing where the wedding would take place, or how many they were inviting, they were getting nowhere. “Looks like I need to have another chat with Preben.”

  “You do that,” Willy said. His face brightened. He hadn’t given up on driving the Jaguar in front of the cathedral. “Let’s get out in the nice weather.”

  “I’ll clear up here while the cookies are baking,” Bettina said and waved them away. She needed to be alone and find out what she wanted. And what was important to her. It didn’t feel like it was her wedding that was upcoming. She had to make this her own, and pretty soon, so they could move on with the planning.

  12

  Mathilde looked better and was sitting in bed, embroidering. Her spirit was the same, but Bettina was pleased with her progress. She collected the dirty plate and mug from lunch and went to check on the cookies. At the same time, the doorbell rang.

  “Hi, Erik, come in.” She held the door open. “Join me in the kitchen; I have cookies in the oven.”

  “It’s quiet here today. Where’s your extended family?” He walked past the empty living room and toward the kitchen.

  She checked the timer. The cookies would be ready in a few minutes. “Preben is at a dinner, and the others have gone for a ride.”

  He took off his jacket and put it on the back of the chair. His shirt was as blue as his eyes, and she had to look twice. Those eyes were one of a kind.

  “Help yourself to coffee. I’ll just remove this tray.” She lifted it out of the oven and placed the cookies on a rack to let them cool.

  “Sounds marvelous.” He had a look at the options before deciding on a cortado.

  “I was upstairs with Mathilde,” she said and gave him a cookie. “She looks better. I can’t say the same for her mood. But she’s embroidering for dear life. She’s making a tablecloth now. I suppose she has a lot to catch up on.”

  He laughed. “That’s good to hear. It might not be kind to say this, but she’s stubborn as a mule. To think she refused to go to the hospital when she so clearly needed to. It’s difficult to understand, for a doctor. I’ve never experienced it before.”

  She smiled and started putting spoonfuls of dough on the baking sheet. She was making double portions of all three types, so she had several hours of work ahead. The guests liked them, and she refilled the cookie trays at regular intervals. A surprising amount of cookies were eaten, despite the guesthouse being far from fully booked. She had originally planned on setting them out in the afternoon, but so far they had been out most of the day. She may have to reconsider and limit them as she had planned initially, or she would have to spend half her day baking.

  “My aunt is eccentric. When Uncle Herman’s first wife was alive, we visited often. But that was many years ago. It was never the same after he married again. Mathilde is difficult to like, for sure.”

  He smiled and pulled his fingers through his blond hair. He was so handsome that she had to shift her gaze and concentrate on the dough again. She was engaged to get married, after all.

  “Yes, that’s no exaggeration,” he said. “You don’t find such a cross, old lady anywhere else.”

  She laughed. “She’s not that old. A little over sixty. She just appears so pitiful when lying there feeling sorry for herself. But we can’t forget she’s been sick the last few days.”

  “You’re right. But it depends on her attitude. If she doesn’t want to keep on living, and can’t see a future alone, everything becomes so much harder.” He snatched another cookie and looked at her with interest.

  “It can’t be easy to keep going without Herman. This guesthouse was their dream. Mostly his, from what I’ve gathered. And I get that she’s mourning. She’s allowed to. It hasn’t been that long since he passed away, and grief can take a long time. But it would be easier to get over the loss if she spent time with us. We could help her, and get her focused on other things.”

  “Like your wedding. That might interest her. By the way, how is the whole family doing?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. Because it was precisely what it was. Her future family and all their opinions. The preferences of the past colliding with the desires of the present. She told him about the conversation they’d had at lunch and their dissimilar opinions.

  “It’s not easy to please everyone. You have to think of what you want, and forget about the others. It’s not their wedding.”

  It sounded reasonable in theory but was challenging in real life. She sighed loudly. “It’s easier said than done. They bring up experiences from Preben and Christel’s wedding, and the comparisons have no end.”

  “As long as you and Preben agree, everything else is insignificant,” said Erik.

  She put the tray in the oven. “If only it were that simple. We don’t agree at all.”

  He seemed lost in his own world and got up to get more coffee. “Oh… Well, then it gets complicated.”

  She was tired of thinking about the wedding and everything that had to be done, despite barely having started the planning. How was that possible? You’d think it would be fun to contemplate all the small and big details. Elements that would make the most important day of her life become a life-long memory. She had been looking forward to starting it but was aware of no longer being so eager. For a moment, she felt like a mediocre replacement for Christel. It dawned on her that she had no idea why their marriage had ended. She had never asked, and Preben had never volunteered to tell her. Maybe she should have been more interested in that, especially since they still seemed to be friends and enjoyed each other’s company. What had actually gone wrong? She was terribly curious now, and had no one to ask.

  “Do you mind bringing me a cup of hot chocolate, Erik?” She checked the oven.

  “No problem.” He came back and gave her a steaming mug with cream on top, topped with the chocolate sprinkles she had out on display.

  “Thanks. Tell me more about yourself. What have you been doing all these years, other than working? It doesn’t feel long since we studied together, but it is.”

  “It’s forever ago. As you know, I worked too much for years. I haven’t had time for other things, and I didn’t prioritize right. Now a family and ch
ildren are on the top of my wish list. After moving here, I finally have some spare time. I like to meditate, paddling on the sea. Let my thoughts fly. Not worry about anything.”

  She sipped the sweet drink. “I’ve never tried that, but it sounds nice.”

  “What do you do in your spare time?”

  She grimaced. “What spare time? After moving here, I haven’t had many quiet moments. The guesthouse and Mathilde take up all my time. Especially since I’m alone with it all. But I did get some painting done. I’m not sure how I managed to finish the paintings for the guest rooms before the opening, but somehow it worked. I usually spend much more time on each painting. But it’s interesting to see how fast you can work under pressure.”

  “I didn’t know you painted. Do you mind if I take a look at them?”

  She shook her head. “You haven’t seen the guest rooms. I’m pleased with how they turned out. We can stop by on our way to Mathilde.”

  “Look, now I’m helping and not just eating.” Erik transferred the cookies over to the jar. “You were an eager handball player, I remember. Do you still play?”

  She had to smile, thinking about all the times she had to rush her homework to make it to practice on time. “No, but Anneli is playing. She’s as active as I used to be. But I kept doing it for many years before quitting.”

  The timer went off, and she removed the baking tray from the oven. The cookies only needed to bake for a few minutes.

  “One thing I enjoy is swimming. And I don’t mean in the summer when the water is warm. But early in the spring and late fall. So this location is perfect.”

  He stared at her, wide-eyed. “Goodness, you do ice bathing?”

  She started laughing. “No, I don’t swim in the winter, and not every day either. I stop once there is frost. It’s refreshing to take a quick dip in the morning.”

  “I have a hard time believing that,” he said and got goosebumps on his arms in the warm kitchen. “It sounds ice-cold.”

 

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