Eva, who was still in her nightgown in bed, covered but awake, heard Victor come into the bedroom.
“My love, I have come to be with you,” Victor said.
“Why?” she asked.
He took his clothes off and got under the blankets with her. “Because I think you are very lonely. I haven’t been a very good husband to you lately, and I want to show you I still can be.”
She rolled over to face him and looked deeply into his eyes. “You think I am angry with you. Perhaps you think I don’t love you anymore.”
He sighed. “It’s a very easy thing for me to think since we left—”
“Well, I am angry with you, but I still love you.”
“I don’t like it that you are angry with me, but I can live with it.” He suddenly looked vulnerable. “I don’t think I can live if you ever stopped loving me.”
She put her hand gently on his cheek.
“Come to me, Victor,” she whispered.
~~~
The landlord of the boarding house, a Mr. Salonen, was elderly and ill and was looking for a replacement to run the house. He was smitten with Eva, and decided that she and Victor should run the house. Soon after they arrived, he moved out of the bedroom off the kitchen and into the old folks’ home. The Mattsons moved into his old room and assumed the management. Saimi Laivo stayed on as cook. The landlord even went as far as to sign the deed of the property over to Victor, with a symbolic payment of one dollar. He was that happy to be free of it.
Eva was more than willing to busy herself with housework and laundry to dull the intense homesickness of the first few months. At times, she felt she had lost every ounce of happiness, finding nothing, except for Ellen, to have joy about. Although she had let Victor back in, her sweet young love for him all but frittered away from the time they had left Finland. On the surface, however, she fought to maintain that love. He was her husband, after all. She was his chosen one. She felt obligated to stay loyal.
~~~
“I’ll teach you how to make American food,” Mrs. Laivo, who had insisted Eva call her Saimi, said to Eva one afternoon. They conversed in their native tongue as they were preparing the mid-day dinner on a cold, windy Sunday in February of 1897. “It’s not too different. Americans don’t use as many beets and rutabagas and turnips as we do.”
“Where did you come from, Saimi?” Eva asked her new friend.
“I come from Helsinki. I was not yet married and had a strong wanderlust, so I came to America. I found a cooking job in a mansion in Chicago. That’s where I met my husband.”
“Where is he now?”
“He passed away about a year ago.”
“I am sorry, Saimi. Why didn’t you stay in Chicago?”
“My employer wanted me to stay, but I didn’t. I needed to go.”
“What was he like?”
“He was tall and handsome. He was the staff manager and butler. I know he hired me because he fell in love with me as soon as he laid eyes on me.” Saimi smiled. “He had a hard time keeping quiet about me to the other employees.”
“How long were you married?”
“Ten years. His name was Feeliks Laivo. When I met him, he was a bachelor in his mid-thirties. He died of pneumonia.”
“I am sorry,” Eva said. “Did you have children?”
“No, I was what the doctors called barren. We were an older couple.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.”
“I knew I could not ever be happy again if I stayed after Feeliks died. Some people might do all right, but I could not. That’s how I came up here, to Virginia, to help the old landlord as cook. I saw an advertisement in a Finnish-American newspaper from this region. The job pays my room and board and provides a little spending money. I don’t need much. There’s a large Finnish community here in town. That's my support.”
“Why are there so many Finns here?” Eva asked. Her growing curiosity was taking her away from her emotional self-exile.
“The timber industry, and now the mines. Finns have a lot of experience with trees, and they like the miner-union aspect of the Mesabi Mines. Many, not all, are socialist in thinking.”
Eva felt so homesick. She remembered the pine and birch forests that surrounded the Mattson homestead back in Finland, and the periodic culling of timber for farmland, building material, and fuel. She sighed.
The two of them worked companionably in the warm, fragrant boarding house kitchen, the conversation at a natural pause. Eva watched Saimi, who she gathered to be about fifty years of age, just a few years older than her own mother. Saimi was short and a little plump; she liked to sample her cooking and baking and ate heartily because it was “one of life’s pleasures.”
“I loved sleeping with my husband, too,” Saimi said, whispering another of life’s pleasures.
They giggled and Eva blushed as she agreed. The two had grown close very quickly. Their relationship was like that of an auntie and niece. Saimi was definitely the elder, nurturing figure. Although Eva was grown, she missed her mother dreadfully, and she clung to Saimi for support and maternal closeness. Saimi seemed to like taking care of people.
Eva was glad she was able to speak in Finnish most of the time. She was self-conscious about beginning to use English and rarely attempted it. That didn’t stop her from learning a few choice words from Victor’s forays to town, and laughing with him when she let down her melancholy guard.
Eva whispered to Saimi conspiratorially, “I can’t stay away from Victor,” she said. This brought a hearty chuckle from her friend.
“He’s very handsome,” Saimi added.
Victor walked into the kitchen from the parlor.
“I am hearing little whispers and giggles,” he said, feigning scolding. “I want to know what you are laughing at.”
“Only you, my love,” Eva cracked. This brought on more secretive smiling and blushing from both women as they busied themselves with their tasks.
Victor opened his mouth to say something but appeared to change his mind. He stood still for a moment and huffed in mild annoyance. “I know better than to take on two women who are telling secrets. I am giving up,” he said in retreat, but not before he gave Eva a surreptitious lusty look.
Eva smiled back, but as soon as he left, she felt the sting of loss, and her smile vanished.
~~~
As Victor walked back to the parlor where he was playing cards with Ellen on the floor, he felt some relief at how Eva was starting to enjoy herself in little moments like that. He had been worried for three months about her decline in happiness and, worst of all, her independence. They were both working at making their new life here, but it still wasn’t going as well as he wanted. At least I got her out of bed, he thought. And she is making love to me now. She’s very attached to Saimi Laivo, and she hasn’t gone to town alone yet. She rereads the letters from home constantly. She still refuses to speak any meaningful English.
Communication in the new world was vexing between the two of them at times. Victor was going out more often than Eva, so he was picking up more English and learning how to use it effectively in everyday matters such as ordering lumber at the mill, ordering dry goods, and making small talk at the tavern up the street. Eva’s English usage fell far behind Victor’s, and she resented him pointing it out.
“Eva,” Victor said one spring evening in their bedroom, in English. “You need to pra-tice you Eenliss.” From the bed, he could see her roll her eyes as she sat at her dresser, brushing her hair out and making a braid.
Eva responded in Finnish. “I can see you are doing exceptionally well,” she said. She waggled her head indignantly.
“Let’s say days of veek. I say first,” he said. “Eva, pay attensen!”
“No!” she said in English. “Seeyut up.”
“You yust stubborn,” Victor said, irritated. “No Eenliss? Den come here, I vant to put dis in you.” He was lying in bed, pointing to his hardness. He leaned back in a provocative pose, arms abov
e his head, and began to wiggle his lower torso. This made her laugh. She glanced at Ellen in her crib. She was sound asleep.
“You nasty. I like you pee-ness,” she said, still in English. She stood from the dresser chair, tossed her comb down, and bounded to the bed. As she jumped, he doubled over to protect himself. She landed half on him, elbowing him in the ribs.
She looked up at him. She was on the verge of hilarity. “Oh, I sordy. I kees et,” she said in fake concern, mocking Victor’s English. She began to place little kisses all over his chest and belly as she giggled.
“Stop. You are tickling me,” he said in Finnish, starting to laugh.
“Vhat you Eenliss?”
“Vhere, not Vhat,” Victor was compelled to correct her.
He tried to fight her off, but she held herself in place using her weight to keep her assault position. He could no longer do anything, he was laughing so hard. He fell limp, only to have her body thump into him. He instantly changed tactics by wrapping his arms tightly around her body, trapping her. He rolled over so she was lying on top of him.
“Ha! I haff you now,” he said in English, laughing.
“I can’t move,” she said in Finnish, struggling to no avail.
“Say in Eenliss,” he demanded. “Den I let go.”
“You ass—hole,” she said in English, laughing silently so as not to wake Ellen in her trundle.
He giggled. “Oh, you learn all bad vords,” he accused. “You are naughty girl.”
Suddenly they stopped their combat play and lay still, lips slightly touching. Finished with the foreplay, she opened her legs and straddled him. He entered her easily, pushing in and out in urgent movement.
He still had her arms pinned. She couldn’t move away if she wanted to, but her hips moved, matching his urgency.
As they made love, she began to chant softly, between hard breaths, in English. “Munday . . . Toosday . . . Vensday . . . Toorsday . . . Friday . . .” She rolled her R on Friday.
Victor was laughing as he lay back, letting Eva do the moving.
“Sadoorday . . .” She was getting close to her climax. As she grunted and jerked her hips, she barely got out, “Sun—day …”
He too, climaxed. “You like Sundays?”
She rolled off, murmuring, “Yes, sexy boy,” in English.
They both were damp from their exertion in the warm bedroom. Eva barely crawled off him before she fell asleep with tiny sweat beads on her nose and top lip.
Victor stayed awake, watching Eva sleep, her soft rhythmic breathing a comfort to him. Her face was soft and angelic, like a child’s. He made no mistake, though. She was not a child. She was a grown woman, a woman who excited him beyond words, English or Finnish. He loved the emotional and physical sensation of spilling his seed inside her; it made him feel powerful. Unfortunately, he had gotten that same feeling with other women – from Olga and now from the new women he had had the occasional tryst with here in Minnesota. He had a strong pang of regret for his infidelity. But that pang brought back a strong sense of guilty pleasure which he also found desirable. He thought of Eva and how wild she’d been in bed tonight, how unabashed in her love for him. He told himself right then to start over with Eva, no more cheating on her, and fell asleep with that promise in mind.
~~~
By the year’s end, Eva had come far. She started going to the post office and dry goods store on her own, and she planted her first garden in the spacious back yard that spring. She also made some new friends at the Finnish Social Hall and occasionally attended church with Saimi and Ellen on Sunday. Although she remained homesick and her melancholy was present, she tried to make a life here.
Besides Saimi Laivo, Eva made friends with Susanna Nikander. Susanna had a daughter Ellen’s age by the name of Katia. They visited each other once a week at the boarding house so the little ones could play together.
“Why are you afraid for us to come to your house, Susanna?” Eva asked in Finnish, shortly into their friendship.
“I don’t have a very good husband. He drinks and can be mean.”
“Why don’t you call the police?”
“He would kill me, so, I let him come and go. He gives me money to support our daughter, but he does not want to be a father or husband.”
“I’m sorry, Susanna.”
“You’re lucky you have a good husband,” Susanna said.
~~~
The Finn Hall in Virginia was filled to the brim at every social event, with Finns coming from Hibbing and all around the region. The Hall and the Finnish Lutheran Church co-sponsored cultural events and events for the holidays. Eva’s favorites were juhannus in the summer, and Christmas with Joulupukki, Finland’s version of Santa Claus. But these events were a double-edged sword, that in her joy of celebration, there was also sadness for all she'd lost at the sudden departure from her family. Her daughter Ellen’s joy was a bright spot that dulled the melancholy. She thought that Ellen could read her when she was sad and she would come to her, sit in her lap, or asked to be held, and with her head on Eva’s shoulder, she would curl Eva’s hair strands in her chubby little fingers.
“I am glad you are coming out with me once in a while,” Victor said one night at the Finn Hall. “Let’s dance, Eva,” he suggested in English, coaxing her into the middle of the open floor by holding her elbow and forearm. She had no choice. She noticed he had been drinking.
“I am blushing, Victor,” she spoke in Finn. “Don’t draw attention to us so much.”
“Before, when you didn’t come with me, I had no one to dance with. Now I do. Look at all those ladies over there watching us. Now, I am happy.”
Eva glanced at the group of ladies to whom Victor was referring. The general expression on their faces unnerved her. I will not be making friends with any of those women, she thought. I don’t think they are very friendly. Why did he point them out to me? It must be the alcohol. She danced with Victor, but it was not very pleasant.
Chapter 2
For the next two years, Eva settled in as well as she could, attempting to make the best of her situation. She and Ellen continued to spend time with Susanna and Katia. Eva learned to cook more American dishes, but she could not let her Finnish roots go. She wrote home all the time and treasured her letters from her sisters, her mother, and Mamma Mattson. She craved the news from the farm. In each letter she received, she secretly hoped she would hear about Eino and that he had gone back home, or that he had met someone and settled down, but that news never came. Although she made an effort to participate in her community, it still was not anywhere near what Victor had accomplished in those first years in America. He went to the Finnish Social Hall all the time to play cards. Everyone in the business district knew who Victor Mattson was. He had many new friends and acquaintances. No matter how hard she tried, she could not wake up any morning and not feel the melancholy.
~~~
One morning, just after Eva’s birthday in May, Victor came rushing home.
“Eva. I have great news.”
“What is it, Victor?”
“I have a job at the Mesabi mine.”
“Why? You have a job here at the boarding house.”
“But I have been feeling restless. I want to get out into the world. If there were a farm here at the boarding house, I would be happy. But I need to do more. Besides we will have more money. I can start saving. We have been trying for another child, and this money will be a help.”
At the mention of their trying to conceive, she looked pained. “Why haven’t we been able to have another child?” she said softly.
“I’m not sure why. Maybe we need to see Dr. Andersen.”
“I don’t want to,” she said. “I don’t want anyone to know my private business.”
“Nonsense,” Victor said.
~~~
Despite her reservations, Eva went to the hospital with Victor and found herself talking with the surprisingly kind Dr. Andersen, who spoke Finnish.
&n
bsp; “Eva, are you getting your monthlies with regularity?” he asked. “About every twenty-eight days?”
“Yes,” Eva answered, but she felt like throwing up, she was so self-conscious. She could barely look at the doctor.
“Have you had any serious illness since Ellen was born?”
“Just a few colds. Nothing serious.”
Dr. Andersen turned to Victor. “Victor, are you functioning normally, arousing when you should?”
“Yes, I have no problem with that.”
“Have you had any serious illness since Ellen was born?”
“I had an attack in my testicles when Ellen was not quite two. It was in Finland. She got the mumps at the same time.”
“Had you been around someone with mumps before that attack happened?”
“Yes, a little boy at a nearby farm. I remember he was out and about with his neck swollen. My mother had a feeling.”
“Had you had mumps as a child?”
“Somehow I missed it.”
“Well, then, you had it as an adult. It can attack men’s testicles and often leaves them unable to impregnate their wives afterwards.”
Eva was stunned at the revelation. She looked at Victor, who seemed shocked as well.
After a few moments, the doctor spoke. “I’m sorry for the bad news.”
“It explains everything,” Victor murmured as they got up to leave.
“Victor, I want to speak with Eva alone,” Dr. Andersen said. “Please wait for her in the hall.”
Victor glanced at Eva as he stood, hesitated for a moment, but obliged the doctor and left closing the door.
“Eva, I am concerned for you,” the doctor said after Victor closed the door.
Eva looked at him. “Is it that noticeable?”
“You are despondent. You barely engaged with me, let alone Victor.”
“I was embarrassed. And I was just told we would have no more children,” Eva tried to rationalize. “Of course, I’m a little sad.”
“You came in that way. It’s not just finding out Victor is sterile.”
Eva and the Irishman Page 35