Sophie's Dilemma

by Lauraine Snelling

  ‘‘Oh, my land. She knows we all love her. And Grace misses her terribly.’’

  ‘‘So does Kaaren.’’

  ‘‘So does Kaaren what?’’ Kaaren opened the door, carrying a basket on each arm.

  ‘‘Let me take one of those.’’ Penny stepped forward.

  ‘‘No, I’ll put them on the table. There is more in the wagon. What do I do?’’

  ‘‘Miss that daughter of yours.’’

  Kaaren’s smile dimmed. ‘‘Every moment of every day.’’ She set the baskets down. ‘‘I swing between wanting to hug her and beat her. At least she writes.’’

  ‘‘How’s Lars doing with this?’’

  ‘‘He never says anything about her.’’ Kaaren’s sigh came from deep in her wounded mother’s heart.

  ‘‘And Grace?’’ Penny’s tone shared her concern.

  ‘‘She didn’t want to come tonight, but Astrid refused to let her stay home. Thank God for Astrid. She can say things that would send Grace into tears or a rage if I said them.’’

  ‘‘Grace in a rage?’’ Ingeborg’s mouth dropped open. ‘‘I’ve not seen her angry since she was really little and frustrated in trying to communicate with the rest of us.’’

  ‘‘It takes a lot to get to Grace, but Sophie did it.’’ Kaaren started to head back outside, but Penny stopped her.

  ‘‘I’ll get the rest.’’

  Ingeborg held wide her arms, and Kaaren walked into them, resting her head on Ingeborg’s shoulder.

  ‘‘Some days I don’t know how I’m going to stand it. It’s easier when I’m mad. And I can’t even talk this over with Lars. I feel like I lost both of them when she left.’’

  ‘‘You think Haakan could talk with him, or Pastor Solberg?’’ Inge-borg felt her shoulder grow wet. Knowing that words were never enough, she stroked Kaaren’s back and let her cry.

  Sometime later Kaaren lifted her head and stepped back. ‘‘I didn’t know I still had that many tears left.’’ She mopped her eyes with a handkerchief she drew from her dress sleeve. ‘‘I’m sorry. This is supposed to be a party.’’

  ‘‘The others are out there and doing just fine without us. Shall we go sit in the parlor?’’

  ‘‘No. I’ll just wash my face and we can go on out. I think I’m over the worst. About the time I think I’m all right, something triggers the tears. Tonight it was the girls all dressed up for the dance. How Sophie loved to dance.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure she still does. There must be dancing in Seattle.’’

  ‘‘Ballard actually. It is a fishing village north of Seattle proper. I just hope Hamre loves to dance too.’’

  ‘‘He didn’t used to.’’

  ‘‘I know, but he has changed so much from that quiet boy who lived here.’’

  Penny came back through the door, pitchers in hand. ‘‘We need more punch. Even cool as it is, everyone is thirsty from dancing.’’

  ‘‘Out in the springhouse.’’

  ‘‘We’ll help you.’’ Kaaren forced a smile. ‘‘If I stay in the shadows, no one will know I’ve been crying.’’

  Elizabeth met them on the porch. ‘‘Can I put Inga down on one of the beds? She can’t seem to sleep through the music and laughter.’’

  ‘‘Of course. Put her on my bed and stack the pillows around her.’’

  ‘‘I can stay here with her.’’ Kaaren reached out and took the now sleeping child. She nodded to Ingeborg to go help Penny and headed for the bedroom.

  ‘‘Is she all right?’’ Elizabeth asked as the three ambled to the well house.

  ‘‘She will be. Sometimes a good cry is all one needs. She spends a lot of time keeping a smile in place for everyone else’s sake.’’

  ‘‘Something like someone else we both know and love?’’

  Ingeborg pulled the bent nail out of the hasp that formed the latch and swung open the door. ‘‘I put the jugs in the water to cool. This is one of those times I dream of having an icebox.’’

  ‘‘I sure like mine, but buying ice off the railroad car is near to unreasonable.’’ ‘‘Soon the icehouse will be full again.’’

  Elizabeth donned her doctor hat. ‘‘Tell me how you’ve been feeling.’’

  ‘‘Truly?’’

  ‘‘Ingeborg.’’

  ‘‘I take it that you mean really.’’ Ingeborg sighed. ‘‘Sometimes I am so tired I could just lie down on the floor and cry myself to sleep, too tired to find a chair or a bed.’’

  ‘‘You’ve never told me that.’’ Penny stopped, a jug in each hand.

  ‘‘Why would I? There’s nothing you can do.’’

  ‘‘I would have told Elizabeth.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ The three women chuckled.

  ‘‘Still bleeding?’’

  ‘‘Not hard or I would have said something, but it’s been going a good three weeks now.’’

  ‘‘That does it. I’m scheduling the surgery as soon as possible.’’

  ‘‘We could wait until after Christmas.’’ Lord, I don’t want to do this. You could just make this right. You did it for that woman who touched your garment. Ingeborg looked to Elizabeth, a slight frown marring her forehead. ‘‘Will you do it?’’

  ‘‘No. That wouldn’t be a good thing. I’m too close to you. I wish we could go to Chicago for it. Hmm . . .’’ She stopped to think. ‘‘I could take Inga with me. How Dr. Morganstein would love to see her.’’

  ‘‘And you.’’

  ‘‘Do you know any doctors in Grand Forks?’’ Penny asked Elizabeth.

  ‘‘No, but I could ask for references. I’ll do that tomorrow.’’ Her look at Ingeborg was loving and stern at the same time. ‘‘But if I telegraphed Dr. Morganstein, she would say to get on that train and get there now.’’

  ‘‘How long would we be gone?’’ At Elizabeth’s shrug, Ingeborg sighed. Uff da. Why couldn’t this be easy and God just heal her?

  Ingeborg debated whether she should go back to stay with Kaaren but chose instead to follow the music to the barn.

  ‘‘Swing your partners and do-si-do.’’

  She was sure the caller could be heard clear to Bridget’s boardinghouse, the night was so clear and still. She saw Astrid laughing up at Knute Baard as he nearly swung her off her feet before twirling her on to the next partner. The swirl of skirts and the colors all catching the light spelled fun in the best way. When two hands sneaked around her middle she leaned back against Haakan’s chest and clasped her hands over his.

  ‘‘How did you know it was me?’’ he whispered in her ear.

  ‘‘Who else would it be?’’

  ‘‘Well, maybe Thorliff or Andrew.’’ Together they swayed in time to the music.

  ‘‘Well, there’s Thorliff with Grace right now and Andrew with Astrid.’’

  ‘‘Always so practical, my Inge.’’

  ‘‘Just observant. Besides, none of the other men would be so forward.’’ ‘‘They better not be.’’ His voice deepened to a growl, making her laugh.

  ‘‘Ah, Haakan, have you thought lately about how blessed we are?’’

  ‘‘Every day.’’

  The music stopped and everyone applauded.

  ‘‘This will be a waltz. Come dance with me.’’

  ‘‘With pleasure, but I’m not so old that I can’t square dance any longer.’’ Ingeborg leaned against his chest.

  ‘‘Nor I, but I got to admit to needing to catch my breath at times.’’

  She reached a hand up and patted the side of his face. The music started again, and she turned in his arms, their steps matching, his hand firm on her back. Her heart picked up a beat or two at the look of love in his eyes. Imagine, after all these years, she thought, the man still sets my heart to fluttering.

  At a tap on his shoulder, Haakan turned to glare at his oldest son. ‘‘You can dance with her another time. I got her now.’’

  Thorliff half bowed. ‘‘I just thought perhaps we could exchange partners.’’ />
  Haakan glanced from his wife to Elizabeth and back again. ‘‘Well.’’ He stretched the word to three syllables.

  ‘‘You go on and dance with him, Elizabeth. I plumb wore him out.’’ Ingeborg stepped into her son’s arms.

  ‘‘So you’re having the surgery after all?’’ Thorliff asked as he took his mother’s hand.

  ‘‘I thought you just wanted to dance with me.’’ Ingeborg shook her head. ‘‘In answer to your question, yes. But I don’t want to talk about it now. This is a party, and I . . .’’

  Shouting from the refreshment table caught her attention. ‘‘Now what?’’ A wave of laughter caught all the dancers as the music stopped and so did their feet.

  ‘‘What is it?’’ Ingeborg stood on her tiptoes but couldn’t see. Thor-liff took her hand and led her between the milling and laughing folks just in time to see Samuel dive under the table.

  Two weaner pigs darted out the other side and skidded around to head toward the musicians. The table bucked as Samuel bumped it coming out from under it.

  Two of the other younger boys took off in hot pursuit. One dove for a pig’s back legs. He grasped one just for a second before losing it and catching the other leg. But the second leg quickly slipped out of his grip as well. With four boys now in hot pursuit, the pigs tore through the people, who were laughing so hard they were holding each other up.

  ‘‘Call Barney,’’ Ingeborg said to Andrew, who’d come up to stand beside her.

  ‘‘Why? And take away all the fun?’’

  At the look on his face, Ingeborg paused. ‘‘You didn’t.’’

  ‘‘Didn’t what?’’ At the questioning look he shot her, she shook her head.

  ‘‘Nothing. I just thought for a moment that maybe you let them out purely for entertainment’s sake.’’

  ‘‘Mor, the pigs might get hurt.’’

  ‘‘Okay, boys, that’s enough,’’ Haakan said. ‘‘Let’s just herd them back toward their pen.’’ He was having a hard time talking, he was still laughing so hard.

  ‘‘Shoulda greased them and offered prizes.’’

  ‘‘Why? They couldn’t even catch them without grease.’’

  ‘‘Hey, Sammy, don’t you go hurtin’ those hogs.’’ The bystanders made sure the boys heard their comments.

  Andrew met Barney at the barn door. ‘‘Okay, boy, go get those pigs.’’ He waved an arm toward the panting hogs. Folks lined up to protect the tables, and others stepped back toward the walls as Barney hunkered low to the ground and eased around behind his quarry. With a quick dart he got them moving toward the door, and when one tried to break away, he zipped toward him and herded him back.

  ‘‘Thorliff, you and Pa go man the gate.’’ Andrew took over, ignoring the laughter.

  ‘‘That’s some dog you got there,’’ someone called.

  Barney kept the two grunting pigs moving toward the pen, not rushing them but moving steadily. When they neared the pigpen, Haakan swung open the gate, and the two escapees squealed when they saw the rest of the weaner pigs and ran on into the pen.

  ‘‘Any idea how they got out?’’ Haakan asked.

  ‘‘Nope, none. Strange that only two got out. I’ll get a lantern and check out the fence.’’

  ‘‘Fine. I’ll go get the party going again.’’

  ‘‘Haakan, you sure do a good job providing entertainment.’’ One of the men clapped him on the back.

  ‘‘Thanks. How about a pols for a change?’’ He motioned to the musicians, who set down their punch cups and picked up their instruments to play the Norwegian dance.

  ‘‘Someone going to teach the steps?’’

  ‘‘Nah. Some of you that know it, grab a partner that doesn’t. They’ll learn quick.’’ Haakan watched as Astrid and Grace offered to teach the Geddick boys and showed them in the side-by-side position. The music started, and the couples moved around the circle, everyone laughing and having a good time. When Haakan felt a hand slide into his, he followed his wife into the moving pattern.

  Ingeborg smiled up at her husband and turned under his arm. Blinking her eyes, she fought to focus. The dancers around her blurred and then grayed, and she could feel herself falling into blackness.

  She woke lying on her bed with Elizabeth bending over her, a stethoscope applied to her chest. Haakan gripped her hand, and she could see his lips moving in prayer. ‘‘What happened?’’

  ‘‘You fainted.’’

  Haakan covered her hand with his other. ‘‘I’m sorry, my Inge, I should have seen—’’ ‘‘Haakan, you couldn’t tell,’’ Elizabeth told him. ‘‘You caught her before she hit the floor and injured herself.’’ She straightened up. ‘‘Your heart is fine. It has to be from the bleeding. I think this gives you your answer.’’

  Later, after all the guests had helped clean up and gone home, Haakan returned to sit down on the bed next to his wife. ‘‘So you have agreed to have the operation?’’

  ‘‘I guess so. It looks like we have no choice.’’ She turned her head to look at him when he didn’t answer. ‘‘What is it?’’

  ‘‘What if something goes wrong?’’ He cleared his throat halfway through the thought.

  ‘‘That is why Elizabeth would rather we go to Chicago to where she took her training.’’

  ‘‘Would it be safer there?’’

  ‘‘She feels so.’’

  ‘‘Is it necessary?’’

  ‘‘If we can’t stop the bleeding.’’

  ‘‘But women have been going through this since time began.’’

  ‘‘True. Some with this have died; others kind of fade away.’’

  ‘‘Then why do this operation?’’

  ‘‘So I can be healthier and not one of those others.’’

  Haakan sighed again. ‘‘I don’t want to lose you.’’

  The pain in his eyes wrenched her heart and brought tears to her own.

  ‘‘I trust Elizabeth to do her best, but I trust God even more. If He wants me to go home, it won’t matter where I am.’’

  He nodded and clenched her hand. ‘‘My head knows that, but my whole self is . . .’’

  Afraid. I know that fear too. ‘‘I don’t think God would be leading us this way if He didn’t want it to be.’’

  The pressure on her hand increased. ‘‘Ja, I know. In my head, I know. But in my heart . . .’’

  15

  SOPHIE WOKE TO HEAR the door opening. Her eyes ached from crying and her heart from fighting. ‘‘Hamre?’’

  ‘‘Ja.’’

  She sat up, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. ‘‘I . . .’’

  At the same moment he said, ‘‘Sophie, I . . .’’ The pain on his face drew her from her cocoon. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as if she might never let go.

  Their words mingled together. ‘‘Sorry.’’ ‘‘I love you.’’ ‘‘Forgive me.’’ When they recovered, they huddled together on the bed, whispering their love and neither of them bringing up what they’d fought about. That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms after enjoying a private dinner from the tray Mrs. Soderstrum brought up.

  In the morning Sophie stroked her husband’s scratchy cheek. ‘‘You think they heard the whole thing?’’ The thought made her shudder both inside and out.

  ‘‘We weren’t exactly quiet,’’ he murmured back. He kissed her forehead. ‘‘I hate fighting.’’

  ‘‘That’s why you left?’’

  He nodded. ‘‘We better get dressed and go down for breakfast. We can’t hide up here all day. I have to go to work.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ She hurried behind the screen and washed her face in cold water. Usually Mrs. Soderstrum’s helper brought up hot water, but she’d probably not wanted to bother them. Sophie peeked out from behind the screen and winked at her husband.

  ‘‘Sophie, if you know what’s good for you . . .’’ His fake growl made her giggle. Maybe this making up wasn’t such a bad thing.r />
  For days they pretended the fight had never happened, joining the others in the parlor in the evening or staying in their room, her knitting, him reading, sometimes her reading to him.

  One night when they were talking in their room, Hamre went silent on her again, not looking at her, staring at his hands.

  ‘‘Hamre, what is it?’’

  When he shook his head, Sophie started to withdraw too but instead of tightening her jaw, blurted, ‘‘Are you angry at me?’’

  He shook his head slowly.

  ‘‘Then who—what? Please . . .’’ She went to him, kneeling in front of his chair so she could look into his eyes. Her voice softened. ‘‘What is it?’’

  He let out a sigh and stroked the backs of her hands. ‘‘I didn’t live up to my word—with your pa.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘I should have been stronger.’’ He stared into her eyes. ‘‘It makes me sad but . . . I . . .’’

  Sophie fought off the urge to cry. She leaned closer. ‘‘I know . . . but I am glad we are together. Now and forever.’’ The kiss they shared drove the worry from her mind—at least for the moment.

  Then, on the seventh of November, Hamre came home, face somber. ‘‘The Sea Lily is ready. We leave in the morning.’’

  Sophie stared at her husband. Backlit by the lamp, his face shadowed, he might well have been a stranger. Perhaps he truly was. They’d had so much fun since making up. ‘‘I-I guess I hoped you might stay with me.’’

  ‘‘How can you think that? For the past two months I’ve been telling you all the things we were doing.’’

  ‘‘You could fish the sound. Other boats do.’’ No matter how hard she’d tried to prepare herself for this moment, even to denying that he would leave, she couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice.

  ‘‘Sophie, we’ve been over this before.’’

  ‘‘I don’t want you to leave. What will I do here all alone?’’

  ‘‘Why, the same things you do now, I suppose.’’ He shook his head and left off watching her, turning instead to drag his canvas bag out of the armoire. ‘‘Did you finish knitting that pair of socks?’’

  Sophie closed her eyes. What would she do now? Count the hours for Hamre to return? I’m not ready for you to leave. The unfinished stocking lay in the basket beside her chair. While she’d finished his scarf, she’d left the remainder of the second sock unfinished, always hoping he wasn’t going anyway. ‘‘No.’’ The word snapped across the room. She clamped her arms across her chest.