The Wooden Chair

by Rayne E. Golay

  Leini now traveled along narrow roads bordered by sycamores, their dense foliage and crowns entwined to create long green tunnels. Loving the small, quaint, somnolent villages, she admired the picturesque scenery; the well-swept streets, the old stone houses sparkling from cleanliness, petunias and begonias flaming in window boxes, the neat front yards. At the outskirts of one of the villages, Leini took a narrow lane bordered by golden corn fields. At first she thought the lane dead-ended until she discovered a side road, which eventually took her to an old farm.

  The house was overgrown with vines, but the harmonious forms and the many French windows attracted her. Parking at the end of the lane, she sat for a while taking in the two-story building in a clump of birches, a few graceful poplars and a mature weeping willow. She left the car to approach the house with hesitant steps not to intrude on its inhabitants, knowing the Swiss were particular about privacy.

  Leini knocked on a side door. No answer. Strolling along the terrace, she peered through a couple of windows. The building was empty, unfurnished. Returning to the main entrance, she happened on a FOR SALE sign with the name of a real estate agency and a phone number. Once she regained the car she jotted down both. A glance in the back seat reassured her Hannele still slept, peaceful and quiet.

  The minute she returned home, Leini phoned the realtor and made an appointment to view the house the following day. In the kitchen, overseeing Hannele having her evening meal, Leini tried to steer her hand cramped around the spoon into her mouth.

  “My pet, use your spoon. Here, see.”

  Hannele giggled, but persisted on using her bare fist to cram mashed potatoes into her mouth, her aim more miss than hit. Leini grinned and made a face. At sixteen months Hannele was a strong-willed bundle of energy. After each meal their kitchen resembled a battle field.

  Bill arrived home earlier than usual, only minutes after Leini finished her bath with Hannele. Carrying the baby on her hip, Leini met him in the hall, kissed him on the lips and followed close on his heels into the living room.

  “Are we celebrating something?” he asked as she handed him a glass of chilled white wine.

  “Cheers, darling,” she said, touching her glass of mineral water to his. “How’s your wine?”

  He placed his glass on the table. “Mmm, perfect.” Holding Hannele on his lap, he showed her his pocket watch.

  Bouncing on his knee, she wiggled and waved tubby arms in excitement. “Tick, tick.”

  “Yes, tick, tick,” Bill said, bringing the clock close to her face and depressing the lock mechanism. The lid snapped open and tapped Hannele on the nose. As always, she shrieked with laughter.

  He tickled her in the neck. “Whose little darling are you?”

  Giggling, she took his face between her chubby hands. “Papa’s,” she said, trying to bite his nose.

  Smiling, Leini followed the scene. So vivid was the memory of Grandpa playing the same game with her all those years ago she imagined she felt the lid hit her nose. With Hannele leaning against his chest, Bill gazed at her. “You’re up to something, Leini. What is it?”

  She told him of the drive in the countryside. “I was just riding along with no particular goal. I happened on this wonderful old farmhouse, darling. It’s for sale, and we’ll go look at it tomorrow.”

  “What! A farmhouse? Outside Geneva! Do you have any idea how much something like that costs? We would spend the rest of our lives paying only interest on the mortgage. Leini…”

  “Bill, sweetie, calm down.” Leini wore her nicest summer dress in light cotton with swirls and irregular spots in tones of warm coral, fuchsia, and touches of light aquamarine. Her lips bore the hint of lipstick and she’d sprayed scent between her breasts. She sat on the armrest of his chair. “We’ll just take a look. It’s not a commitment.”

  His groan was loud, but the next day they went to see the house. In fact, they spent the better part of the day in and around it.

  “Look, Bill, this room is perfect for the children. When they grow up, they’ll each have their own room. The bathroom in between only needs a little modernizing. Not right now if it’s too expensive. Sometime in the future.” They stood in the second floor mezzanine while the agent granted them a few minutes of privacy. From her roomy handbag, she pulled papers scribbled with figures. “Look a these calculations, darling.”

  Bill was red in the face, his domed forehead glistening from perspiration. “I’m telling you we can’t afford it. Even if I sold the sail boat and everything I own, we wouldn’t come up with the down payment.”

  “Bill, please, just look at these figures. If you still feel we shouldn’t do it, I’ll agree. But first listen to this—when I turned eighteen, I came into my inheritance from Grandpa. It was a nice amount of money. Well invested, it’s become quite a lot of money in just a few years. It will cover the down payment and some of the repair work.” She gazed at him, eyes moist from tears she tried to stop from flowing. “I really love this house, and with some sacrifices I’m sure we can afford it.”

  Velvety eyes half closed, Bill listened to her arguments. He made his own calculations, came to the same result as Leini, but still he hesitated.

  “I want to think about it, not rush into anything.” With thumb and forefingers he massaged his temples, a sign he was disturbed.

  After dinner that evening, he went over the figures again. “The house sure is nice, and the figures look good to me.”

  Leini swiveled around to face him, dishrag in one hand, a dinner plate in the other. “Do you mean to say we’ll buy the house?”

  When he nodded, a broad smile on his lips, she yipped, dropped rag and plate into the soapy dishwater. Arms around his neck, she laughed and sobbed. “Oh Bill, I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am. It means a lot to me to have our own house.”

  * * *

  Yigal was born to the budding of spring as the world was turning into a wonderland of tender hues of greens, vibrant yellow, violet blue and cherry pink. He was in as much a hurry to enter the world as Hannele before him.

  In her private room at the clinic, Leini thought she was very much the princess Grandpa used to call her. She kept looking at her newborn son, in awe over his halo of curly blond hair, long limbs, big feet and slim hands. The serenity she experienced now was so different from the turmoil Mira caused after Hannele’s birth. Although Leini knew the rift between them couldn’t go on indefinitely, she appreciated this hiatus.

  Chapter 37

  Geneva, Summer 1963

  The day they moved, furniture, cartons and crates were scattered on the terrace and throughout the house. Leini placed a stack of plates on a shelf in the larder and bent over to rummage in a box on the floor. She stopped to listen.

  “It’s open,” she shouted in answer to the ring on the door. That doorbell has to go and fast; I can’t stand the sound of cowbells in my home.

  Meeting Vickie in the hall, Leini pressed her cheek to hers, lips stretched as she patted Vickie’s baby bump. “Getting to be quite big.”

  “Tell me about it. It’s like…” She shrugged. “Well, you know what it’s like to be very pregnant.” She looked around, up, off to the left and right. “The house is beautiful on the outside, and I love the woodwork. I haven’t seen the house since the renovation. Do you have the time to take me on a guided tour?”

  “I could do with a break. Come, I’ll show you.”

  After she poured them each a tumbler of mineral water with a slice of lemon, she spread arms wide, as if to embrace the kitchen, alive with dappled sunlight.

  “As houses go, it’s old and rambling. I love these wood beams here in the kitchen. We both like it the way it is, untouched, with the stone floor and this wonderful walk-in larder. Look at those small windows high on the two walls. I’ve put in pots of green plants, and here on the deep windowsill is my winter garden.”

  As Leini showed her home, excitement purred inside like a content kitten. She smiled, awestruck that this was her home.
Here nobody can take the key from me. Nobody can chase me away. This is my home, I belong here.

  She glanced at Vickie’s protruding belly. “Are you up to climbing the stairs to the second floor?”

  “Sure. I’m huge, but I can still walk a flight of stairs.”

  Leini chuckled. “We used to measure our circumferences when I was pregnant with Hannele, you expecting Nicole. The girls were born only one week apart, but I was always bigger than you.”

  Together they ascended the creaking oak staircase to the L-shaped mezzanine that ran the length of the south and west walls. As she pointed at details, explained their choices, Leini gave a mental nod of contentment to Dr. Morgenthaler, the hours of therapy, some quite painful. No pain, no gain. She grinned at the cliché, but it was very apt. If she hadn’t chosen to work with him, she would never have known this level of peace and contentment. Thanks to therapy, she was now able to think about her past, about Mira, without wanting to cry. She wasn’t yet ready to forgive Mira, but nowadays, when she looked in the mirror, she saw a young woman’s face. She saw beautiful skin, high cheekbones, a firm chin and sensual lips. No longer did she notice only her wayward right eye, which wasn’t quite parallel to the left, nor did she shudder when she noticed it.

  As they descended the stairs, Leini linked her arm in Vickie’s. “The house doesn’t come without sacrifices. There are things we’ll have to do without, like eating in a good restaurant more than once in a great while, and vacations abroad. And we’ll continue driving our old jalopy as long as it cooperates.”

  “I’m sure the house is going to be worth doing without some things. Instead, you have your own home. Just think of the pleasure you’ll have living here.” Smiling, Vickie handed her a carton wrapped in varicolored paper, tied with a blue bow. “A housewarming gift.”

  Taking the carton, its weight surprised Leini and it nearly slipped through her fingers. Setting it on the table, she smiled as she ripped off the ribbon and paper. Careful not to cause any damage, she lifted a square wall clock. Somewhat asymmetric, it stood on one of its corners as the left side curled toward the face.

  Delighted, Leini held it at arm’s length. “It’s beautiful. I love the royal blue with these irregular stripes of black and powdery blue.” She touched the surface with a finger. “It porcelain, isn’t it?”

  “It’s part faïence, part porcelain. It was handmade to order by the arts instructor at the school where I teach.”

  Blinking against the tears, too moved to talk, Leini hugged her.

  In the evening, the day’s chores done, together with Bill they hung the clock in the kitchen above the pine table. He swept off some fine concrete dust that settled on the table after he was through drilling the hole for the hook to hold the clock.

  “The other day, on my way to work,” he said, “I passed by this second-hand furniture store. There were a couple of old wooden chairs in the window; you know, the kind with straight ladder backs, the seats made of slats. I thought they would look nice at each end of the table, and we’d have added seating when we have guests and don’t want to use the dining room.” He glanced at her. “What do you say we go look at them someday soon?”

  While he talked, Leini sank on the bench, leaning back against the wall, eyes half-closed. “I’d rather not. I’m familiar with those chairs. When I was a kid, we had them in our kitchen. I didn’t like them, still don’t. They’re hard and uncomfortable in the extreme. I cannot help but associate chairs like that with Mira’s lap. It was just as uninviting, unyielding and…hard.” She thought for a moment. “I can still remember the discomfort and hostility in Mira’s arms.” She ran the flat of her hand against the soft surface of the table. “Sorry, Bill, I don’t want those chairs.”

  Placing his hand against her cheek, he gazed at her. “Oh, Leini, I didn’t know about those chairs, what they signify. I’m sorry I mentioned them.” He glanced at her as she sipped a glass of wine left over from dinner. “Are you upset?”

  “Not at all.” She splashed the last drops into the glass and downed the wine in a deep swallow. “You couldn’t know about the chairs, so don’t mind me.”

  Taking her with him, he stood to admire the clock.

  “Look at Vickie’s gift; it goes well with the wall’s ochre color. This is the perfect place for it.” He slipped his arms around her waist as she leaned her back against him. “Something tells me this kitchen will be the heartbeat of our home.”

  * * *

  Most of the cartons and packing crates were unpacked and cleared out of the way. Seated by the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. Bill rested elbows on the table. “I’m glad you talked me into buying this house,”

  “Oh, Bill, I’m so glad you say so. The day we moved into our house, just a week ago, we became a family in the true sense of the word. We belong with the house.”

  “My cautious Swiss nature balked, but I agree with you—it’s a wonderful place to raise children.” He caressed her hand on the table. “Shall we get a dog?”

  Her breath caught, eyes flew open. “Bill, are you serious? A dog! Oh, gawd, yes please. All my life I’ve wanted a pet, but I never dared mention it. Mira’s always had an obsessive fear of microbes, wouldn’t dream of allowing a pet of any kind. She might, heaven forbid, catch something.” She smiled into his eyes, thinking how very much she loved him. “Children should grow up with pets. Let’s take Hannele to choose a dog.”

  The next day, Saturday, they drove to the animal shelter. With Hannele between them, each holding her by the hand, they strolled among the cages, observing her reaction to each dog.

  “She’s very cool about it. Not at all afraid, but not as enthusiastic as I’d expected,” Bill said.

  In front of a cage holding a dog of indeterminate breed, Hannele stopped. She stood still, eyes never leaving the animal. She took a tentative step closer. Bill stood at the ready to snatch her away at the merest threat from the dog. Hannele poked a finger through the wire mesh, giggled as the dog poked at it with a wet muzzle. The dog licked her hand, and she shouted with glee and pointed. “Doggie.”

  That was it…Hannele chose their dog, a mutt with short chocolate brown fur and the mildest, most soulful eyes.

  * * *

  A few days later, on the terrace, Hannele next to her on the swing, Leini watched her munch on a sandwich with a thick layer of chocolate spread. The puppy followed her every move, hoping for a treat. With a hand under her chin Leini raised Hannele’s head to gaze into her eyes.

  “Don’t you think your dog should have a name? What would you like to call her?”

  “Doggie,” Hannele said.

  “Yes, sweetie, she’s a doggie, but she needs a name.” Hmm, let’s get this one right. Leini pointed at her. “You’re a girl. Your name is Hannele.” She pointed at herself. “I’m mami and my name is Leini.” Pointing at the dog. “Doggie’s name is…?”

  Hannele fixed Leini with serious eyes. Brow creased, she glanced from the dog to the sandwich in her hand, then at the dog again. A smile lit her little face, eyes sparkling from joy. “Nutella.” Patting the dog, she repeated, “Nutella.”

  “Huh? Nutella? Is it a nice name for doggie?”

  Toffee blond curls bounced as she nodded. “Uh-huh. Doggie Nutella.”

  Hannele named her dog after her preferred brand of chocolate spread. She loved them both, and they were both the same color. It makes a lot of sense. Holding her hand against the curve of Hannele’s cheek, Leini kissed her forehead and inhaled the sweet smell of milk and baby. “Nutella is a great name for your doggie, my Hannele.”

  That night, Bill hooted with laughter as Leini told him about the naming of the dog. “Great! Our dog is a chocolate spread.”

  “Hush, not so loud…you’ll wake the children.” She peered at him in the dim light. Raising a corner of her duvet, she blinked. “Want to come visit, darling?”

  The words were barely out of her mouth when he joined her under her comforter, arms and le
gs wrapped around her.

  “Ahh, my Leini. It’s wonderful to hold you. Are you sure…?”

  Her lips on his stole the rest of the question.

  Their first time after Yigal was born.

  Chapter 38

  Geneva, Summer 1963

  Carrying Yigal in the crook of her arm, Leini grabbed the phone before its ringing woke Hannele from her nap. While she slept, the house was quiet, so Leini could enjoy the momentary peace. She truly loved Hannele, but at a little over two years old she was a bundle of energy, curious with a smattering of seemingly unending questions.

  “Hello, yes,” she said into the receiver. Recognizing the voice, a wide smile settled on her lips, cheeks warm from pleasure. “Papi. I’m glad you called!” After the customary exchange about everybody’s well-being and the weather, she asked, “What’s the occasion that you phone in the middle of the week? Usually we talk during the weekend.”

  “No occasion, but I have a reason. I’m phoning from the office, so I can talk unhindered.”

  “What does that mean? Can’t you call from home with Mira present?”

  “You’re being overly suspicious, my girl.”

  “With good reason, I’d say.”

  He cleared his throat so loud Leini removed the receiver from her ear for an instant. “Leini, I would like you and your family to come spend your vacation in Finland this summer.”

  “Papi…”

  “No, please listen to me. I’ve respected your decision to break with Mira. Your reasons were valid. You did what you had to do to preserve yourself. I understand and respect that.”

  His heavy breathing reached her over the distance. This can’t be easy for him. Papi is a proud man, unused to having to plead. I don’t like to put him in this spot.

  “It’s been over two years now since you’ve had any direct contact with her. She hasn’t seen Hannele since she was a newborn baby and Yigal not at all.”

  At her desk in the small room off the kitchen, Yigal a comforting weight on her lap, she wasn’t sure she could meet Mira.