The Wooden Chair

by Rayne E. Golay

  “You can hold her if you want. She’s made of solid stuff.”

  Bill turned his head to gaze at Leini, shaking his head. He sat on the chair next to Leini’s bed, her hand between both his own. “Not now. She’s asleep.”

  A warm, fuzzy drowsiness overcame Leini. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re lovely.” Tucking his hand under her cheek, she closed her eyes.

  “Go to sleep, darling. I’ll sit here and watch you two.”

  “No,” she mumbled. “I only want rest my eyes for a minute.” And fell fast asleep.

  * * *

  Leini had finished nursing Hannele when Mira came to visit, a whiff of cloying perfume accompanying her. Handing Leini a bouquet of long-stemmed roses, she gave her a peck, which landed on the pillow.

  “Congratulations.” Without a glance at the bassinet, she dropped her handbag on the foot of the bed and sat. “You look fine. Not like me when you were born. After the ordeal you put me through I was half-dead.” Pivoting on the chair, she scanned the room. “So many flowers! Who sent them?”

  “They’re from Bill’s and my colleagues and our friends.” To her surprise and delight, even Dr. Morgenthaler had sent an arrangement of spring flowers.

  “Bill says the baby is wonderful.”

  Trying in vain to catch her eye, Leini smiled. “So she is, but we may be biased.” Pointing at the bassinet. “Look for yourself.”

  Mira nodded and leaned over the baby. With her back turned, Leini couldn’t see her expression, wondering why she watched for so long, why she didn’t say anything. After several minutes Mira turned, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. Moved by Mira’s display of emotion, Leini held a hand to her.

  “She’s precious, isn’t she? Your first grandchild.”

  Without taking Leini’s hand, Mira returned to the chair. She blew her nose, eyes downcast.

  “Yes, she’s a dear. Don’t worry too much about her hawk-like nose. If she won’t outgrow it, which she probably won’t, she can have plastic surgery when she’s older.”

  Speechless, Leini caught her breath. She stared at Mira, who fixed on a point above Leini’s head.

  “What nose? There’s nothing wrong with her nose. You’re imagining things.”

  Mira breast heaved from a sigh. “I know mothers are blind to their children’s faults. Your daughter’s pretty. The nose is a detail that can be fixed.”

  Pulling on her dressing gown, Leini left the bed. With a couple of strides she was by Hannele’s side. Taking the baby in her arms, she turned her so the light from the window fell on her face. Staring at the tiny features, she couldn’t see anything wrong. Hannele’s small nose was straight with tiny nostrils. Leini thought it was a pretty nose.

  She fixed Mira with a stare. “Show me where you see anything wrong.” Her voice was shrill, her legs wobbly.

  Mira bent closer and stared at Hannele. “Oh,” she said. “It must have been the light. A shadow or something.”

  Leini returned to bed, lying on the covers. Afraid to let her go, she kept Hannele in the crook of her arm. She was still trembling from the fright Mira caused. Won’t she ever let up?

  “Let’s not talk about it. Just so you remember, Mira, our daughter is perfect.”

  Mira shifted on the chair. “Have you decided on a name yet?”

  “Sure. When we knew I was pregnant we decided to call her Hannele. We both like the name.”

  Mira kept staring past Leini’s head. “After all, she is your child. Of course you give her the name you want. I’m disappointed you didn’t ask my opinion, though.”

  Dizzy from disbelief, Leini shook her head. “As you say, she’s our child. We name her. I haven’t consulted with Papi either. The idea didn’t cross my mind.”

  Mira’s mouth kept working as if masticating on something unsavory, the corners pulled down. “That’s the problem with you. You never think. I hoped you would name your first daughter after my mother, Rebecca.”

  I can’t believe I’m hearing this! “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “Unreasonable? Me? After everything I’ve done for you!” Mira’s raucous voice was cut off by a fit of coughing. “My mother, may she rest in peace, was an angel. I’d think it would be an honor to name your child after her.”

  “I’m sure your mother was a fine woman. But she died when I was a small child. I don’t even remember her.”

  “Well, maybe you’d consider calling her Rebecca as a second name. Hannele Rebecca. Doesn’t it sound nice?”

  “Mira, Bill and I agreed to call her Hannele and Yvette after his mother.”

  “Bill’s mother? What about my mother?”

  Leini closed her eyes for an instant, nails digging into her palms in her effort to stay calm.

  “Let me spell it out. Bill is Hannele’s father. His mother, had she lived, would be Hannele’s grandmother. Our daughter will be named Hannele Yvette.” Her gaze bore into Mira’s. “That’s final!”

  Mira leaned closer to Leini, her face white, eyes staring, but not at Leini.

  “How can you?” She spat the words. “I’ve tried to do everything in my power for you. Is this the way to treat a mother? I only ask—” Her voice rose until she was almost shouting.

  Hannele started crying. Glancing at Mira, Leini spoke in a low, distinct voice. “Don’t raise your voice, Mira. This is a hospital. I’d rather you left. Hannele’s agitated. I’m upset and… Please leave.”

  I’m not going to cry, not cry, not cry…

  Snatching her handbag off the bed, without another word, Mira marched to the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  After she left, Leini remained quiet on her back, Hannele safe in the arms. Leini’s heart beat with heavy thuds. Red dots danced before her eyes, and her entire body shook. Something energetic and dynamic stirred within. At first the unfamiliar emotion puzzled her. As she quieted, Leini recognized the feeling for what it was.

  Rage.

  Not fear. Not helplessness. Not powerlessness, but rage. The feeling must have been locked somewhere inside her under tight control for years. “A nice girl” didn’t get angry. “A nice girl” didn’t express anger. How many times hadn’t Mira repeated these words? Leini learned to suppress the emotion.

  Leini knew for a fact it was a sign of healing that she finally allowed herself to feel anger against Mira. She was determined to distance herself from her. At least until therapy works and I’m more solid.

  Chapter 35

  Geneva, May 1961

  Bill visited after work. He sat by Leini’s bed, Hannele asleep in his arms, her tiny hand holding his thumb in a tight grip.

  “Mira asked me to change her flight. She wants to return earlier.”

  Leini’s heart danced; she could have sung from joy. “That’s great! I hope you were able to make the arrangements?” This time Mira overstepped boundaries, and Leini wasn’t willing to bend or try to placate her. As she told him about the skirmish, deep worry lines formed on his brow.

  “Are you all right with it? Mira didn’t upset you, did she?”

  “She did at first, but this time I didn’t give in.” Leini beamed. “Motherhood has changed me, it’s made me stronger than I thought possible. I stood up to her and I feel wonderful about it.” She pressed his hand against her cheek. “I have to keep Mira at a distance, at least for a while.” She smiled at the lovely picture of Bill with Hannele in his arms. She was so tiny, she almost disappeared in his embrace.

  “I’m going to break with her until I’m more solid, better able to defend myself.”

  He caressed her cheek. “That’s wise, I think. Stay away from her for now. With therapy you’ll learn to distance yourself from her so she can’t hurt you.” With a barely perceptible sigh he glanced at her. “Grandma Britta called.”

  From the way he looked at her, quizzical, his voice hesitant, she immediately zeroed in on something being the matter. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I think Grandma Britta i
sn’t well. She sounded tired, the energy gone from her voice. Why don’t you call her?”

  Leini’s heart thudded with fear. Grandma Britta was getting on in years, but she couldn’t leave yet. Not without seeing Hannele. I need her. I’ll always need her, but now is too early, and Hannele is still so young. Leini tried to swallow against the lump in her throat.

  “I’ll call her first thing tomorrow.”

  The call to Helsinki went through faster than usual. During their exchange, she was attentive to Grandma Britta’s tone of voice. As Bill said, she sounded out of breath, tired, kept pausing between words.

  “Leini, my dove, I’m so happy for you and Bill. I like the name Hannele Yvette. You must take pictures of her, mail them to me.”

  “I was hoping you’d visit us. Spring in Geneva is pretty and colorful. We have a guest room waiting for you. Please say yes.” She wondered if the flight with two stopovers was too much for Grandma at her age.

  The line went quiet, Grandma’s heavy breathing interrupting the silence.

  “I wish I could,” she said at length. “It would be precious to see Hannele…my great-granddaughter. You and Bill, as well. Don’t count on it, though. You might as well know it, Leini—I’m not well.”

  Leini’s heart skipped a beat, then started hamming too fast. “Grandma, what’s wrong? Are you seeing a doctor? Surely it can’t be too serious. Maybe later you’ll be well and can come to visit.”

  Another pause and an inhalation. “No, I’m afraid this is serious. Something wrong with my liver…”

  “Is it very bad, Grandma Britta?”

  “I’m afraid it is, my dove.”

  “No!” Icy tears trickle down her cheeks. “Please, it can’t be.” Struggling to quell the sobs so as not to upset Grandma Britta.

  “Get a hold, Leini. Don’t fall apart. My timing is bad, so soon after Hannele’s birth. It’s better you’re prepared. I pray your Hannele will be the same blessing and joy to you that you’ve been to me and to Grandpa. I love you very much, Leini, my dove.”

  “I love you, too. You…you’ve been more than a mother to me. You’ve taught me so much. If you have to go, I wish it will be quick. I can’t stand the thought of you suffering.”

  Early in the morning on Hannele’s one month birthday Papi phoned. Hearing his thick voice, Leini knew.

  “You must be strong, my Leini. Grandma Britta’s left us.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, Bill took her with him onto the bed. Heartache and immeasurable sorrow inhabited her. Life without Grandma Britta was unimaginable. All her life, she was Leini’s safe harbor, her shelter, a source of strength. With her gone, Leini was floundering.

  Cradling her in his arms, Bill let her cry. “You’re not alone, darling. I’ll do everything in my power to make up for your loss. I know full well I can never replace Grandma Britta, but I’ll always be here for you.”

  The day waned, the shadows grew long. Hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea, Leini turned from staring through the window. I wish I could go to the funeral, but I can’t leave Hannele and I won’t travel with her. Going to Helsinki would also mean encountering Mira. Leini was far from ready to see her again after the showdown in the hospital when Hannele was newborn.

  Grandma Britta was a remarkable woman, the kindest of persons. I’ll always be grateful I’ve had her in my life. She’s been a great role model as a woman and mother. I know her love for me was unstinting. Leini hoped she resembled her grandmother in some measure.

  * * *

  After she made arrangements to leave Hannele in the care of a neighbor, Leini resumed her sessions with Dr. Morgenthaler. She was looking forward to her first appointment with excitement, but also some trepidation.

  Dr. Morgenthaler wrinkled his brow while she told him about the argument with Mira over Hannele’s name. He leaned forearms on knees, gazing at her. “I’ve been expecting your contained anger to surface. It’s been there all the time, but hidden so far inside, you couldn’t reach it.

  “I’ve taken into consideration the heavy burden you’ve carried. Because of your pain and the many issues you need to deal with in therapy, I’ve let you progress at your own pace.” He wrote something in the little notebook he always kept handy. “Mira insisted on having a say in naming your daughter, and you discovered how very angry you are at her. How do you feel about being angry?”

  She thought a moment before speaking. “First came this surge of rage. When I recognized it for what it was, I felt empowered.”

  “Empowered? Isn’t that strange?”

  “I don’t think so. I finally discovered what was missing from my emotional landscape.” Leini took a lungful of air, letting it out slowly through half-open lips. “I was always told I’m a well brought up girl with a good education. Good girls like me don’t feel anger, let alone show it.”

  “Are you telling me it gives you power to feel and express anger? Is that it?”

  “Not quite, Doctor. Discovering I’m angry gives me the power to set limits for Mira. Also, I know now I’m me, not a doormat she can walk over.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe anger will be the shield I can use to protect myself against her.”

  “If she doesn’t behave, if she’s nasty toward you, you’ll get angry and turn against her? Is that it?”

  “No, that’s too simplistic. I hope you can help me channel the anger so it won’t harm me or others. I want to learn to use it as a rudder, not as a weapon.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Gardet, I think we’re on the same page here. We’ll work on different expressions and dosages of anger.” Leaning against the back of his chair, he fixed piercing eyes on her. “Tell me this, what was it like, standing up to Mira?”

  Leini chuckled. “It was wonderful. I told her I wanted our daughter named Hannele Yvette. I didn’t suggest compromises and I didn’t justify my decision, which is also Bill’s.”

  He leafed through his notes until he found the page he was looking for. “I would like you to give me an answer without thinking about it—no censoring, no intellectualization—give me the emotion raw, as it comes to you.” His dark eyes held hers, compelling, reassuring.

  “Do you hold Mira responsible for the loss of sight in your eye?”

  “Yes! Absolutely! I very definitely do.”

  He nodded. “Do you think she deliberately set out to deprive you of your sight?”

  Without pausing to think, Leini responded, “I don’t care what her intensions were. She manipulated me to have the first operation, although the ophthalmologist insisted he’d operate only if I agreed. Well, I didn’t want the operation. Mira put so much pressure on me, she told me in clear terms…”

  Leini was out of breath. The heavy painful pounding of her heart echoed in her entire body, all the way in her fingertips. This was the very first time she’d voiced these accusations.

  “What did she say?”

  “Mira? If I had the operation I would be pretty…if I was pretty she would love me.” She sucked air through clenched teeth, neck on fire from tension. “The accident wouldn’t have happened if she—with her inflated ego—hadn’t fired the night nurse. If she’d let the nurse stay on for another night or two, I would see with both eyes.”

  “I hear searing anger. I see it in your clenched fists; your entire body is rigid. Your handicap is a daily reminder of the role Mira played. It’s time we started looking at the consequences you’re facing as a result of Mira’s behavior and your family’s passivity. We’re going to talk about this at length.”

  The anger was choking her. She rotated her shoulders, stretched her back to get rid of the tension. “What’s the use of talking about it? It’s in the past. No amount of talking will return the sight to my eye.”

  “No, nothing will change it.” Dr. Morgenthaler shifted in his chair. “I want to help you reconcile with what she did. When you reach that point, you’ll be free of the past. Your handicap won’t be a sore issue. This is about acceptance, Mrs. Gardet. When you come to accept
it happened, you’ve gained a lot. You’ll be liberated when you forgive Mira—for everything.”

  “What!” She almost shouted the word.

  He smiled. “You react the same way you did when we talked about this before Hannele was born. Forgiveness will set you free from Mira and from the past.” He stood and filled a glass with water from the pitcher on his desk. “Here, drink this.”

  She drained the glass. “Will forgiveness make me forget everything she’s done? All the hurt, the pain, every slight? Will I stop missing the mother I never had?” She was almost sobbing.

  He wrote in his notebook while her emotional storm raged like a frothing sea.

  “What we experience in our childhood is imprinted on our brain. It’s etched in, programmed in your memory forever. Nothing can efface those memories.”

  “Then what’s the use of this therapy?” Her throat was so clogged she had trouble speaking the words.

  “Our work will help you find ways of bypassing the programming. The memories will always be there. At times a trigger will be strong enough to remind you of the past. You’ll know pain, but it will be short-lived. And I bet the nightmares will stop.”

  She took a tissue from the box to dab at her eyes.

  Dr. Morgenthaler looked at the clock on his desk. “My next patient is due. Stay in the reception hall for a while if you’re too upset to drive.” He saw her to the door. “I’m proud of you. You’re brave and strong.”

  Chapter 36

  Geneva, Early Fall 1962, Spring 1963

  On one of her rare days off from work, Leini decided to take a leisurely drive in the country while Hannele had her afternoon nap in the baby seat. Enjoying the sun warm through the windshield, she was mellow; she recently learned she was expecting their second child, another spring baby.

  “Hannele will be two years old when the baby comes…the perfect age difference,” she said to Bill as she gave him the news. She grinned. “At least we’ll get through the children’s diseases and diapers almost in one go.”

  “I’m happy, sweetie. I love kids, and Hannele’s great, a real sunshine.”