Sophie's Dilemma

by Lauraine Snelling

  Sophie stumbled over the first part of the story, and then it gained strength in spite of the tears she had to keep wiping. ‘‘You see, I failed him so terribly. And there is nothing I can do about it now.’’

  Kaaren continued stroking Sophie’s hands, except when she had to dab at her own tears. ‘‘Losing someone you love is always terribly hard, but when you add guilt to that, the burden becomes unbearable.

  Remember God’s Word: ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ You memorized that years ago, and God never changes.’’

  ‘‘But I let Hamre down. He would have waited the year that Far asked, but I pushed him into taking me.’’

  ‘‘We guessed that.’’

  ‘‘And then I blamed him for leaving me.’’ She stared into her mother’s eyes. ‘‘And I can’t ever ask him to forgive me.’’

  ‘‘I know, but you can ask God. And He will. And since Hamre believed in Jesus, he is standing now with all the heavenly hosts, and there is no lack of love or forgiveness there.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Mor, are you sure?’’

  ‘‘As sure as I see you sitting here.’’ Kaaren used the corner of her apron to wipe Sophie’s face again. ‘‘You know to read your Bible and spend time praying.’’

  Sophie sniffed and stared at her hands clasped in her mother’s. ‘‘Not like you do.’’

  ‘‘No, because you lived on our faith. You haven’t all the years of experience. I could not make it through a normal day, let alone all the hard places like this, without the comfort and the instruction I find in His Word and trusting that it is true.’’

  Sophie shook her head slowly from side to side. ‘‘You say God forgives me and that Hamre has, but what about Far?’’

  ‘‘I can’t answer for him. You will have to go to him and ask. Tell him the truth and ask for his forgiveness.’’

  ‘‘I’m afraid. What if he doesn’t love me anymore?’’

  Kaaren looked up at the sound of sleigh bells. ‘‘We have company.’’ She rose and went to look out the window. ‘‘Why, what a surprise! It’s Bridget and Henry in Thorliff ’s sleigh.’’

  ‘‘I must look a sight.’’ But finding the energy to rise and wash her face took more than Sophie had to give. When she tried to stand, her knees felt like unset jelly, and she sat back down. All she wanted to do was go back to bed, crawl under the covers, and sleep, for in sleep there were no memories and harsh realities. Instead, she smoothed her hair back and used her apron to dry her face.

  ‘‘Come in, come in. What a wonderful surprise. Just leave the horse there for now. He might like a bit of the sun too.’’

  ‘‘We can’t stay long. Dinnertime will be here before you know it.’’ Bridget, her cheeks bright red in the cold and her eyes sparkling like the sun on the snow, let Henry help her out of the sleigh. ‘‘Bring in the bricks too. I’m sure Kaaren will warm them in the oven.’’

  ‘‘Of course.’’ Kaaren went down the steps to help the older woman up.

  ‘‘I have come to see Sophie.’’

  ‘‘She’s right in the kitchen.’’ At the top of the step Kaaren turned to the gray-haired man. ‘‘Hello, Henry. Welcome.’’ As they stepped inside, she held out her arms. ‘‘Here, let me take your coats.’’

  They both hustled over to the stove and rubbed their hands in the rising heat.

  ‘‘That sun sure is deceptive. Looks so warm, but the wind has a bite. Feels like another blizzard coming on.’’ Henry was known for his accurate weather predictions.

  ‘‘So we enjoy the sun while we can. You have to admit this has been a rather easy winter so far.’’ Kaaren hung up their coats, scarves, and hats. ‘‘Sit down here, and Bridget, you talk with Sophie while I fix something to go with the coffee.’’

  ‘‘Welcome home, my dear.’’ Bridget took the chair with a sigh. ‘‘I’ve come to ask for your help.’’

  ‘‘Mine?’’ Sophie laid a hand against her throat.

  ‘‘Ja, yours. I need more help with the boardinghouse, and I think you need a job.’’ She turned to Kaaren. ‘‘Unless she is going back to school?’’

  ‘‘Ask her.’’ Kaaren looked up from cutting squares of eggekake, a yellow cake with creamy frosting.

  ‘‘I don’t think Pastor would want a woman with child back in the schoolroom.’’

  ‘‘Ah, I see. And from the pale look I see about your eyes, you are still feeling poorly?’’

  Sophie nodded. ‘‘Although today I feel better.’’

  ‘‘Because you are home where your Mor can take care of you.’’

  Henry smiled at Sophie. ‘‘We are so sorry to hear about Hamre. He grew up to be a fine young man.’’

  ‘‘Ja.’’ Bridget shook her head with a sigh. ‘‘He looked so much like his grandfather Hamre, Gustaf ’s brother, I nearly choked when I saw him return from Seattle. He got his love of the sea from generations back.’’

  ‘‘She’s a hard mistress, that sea.’’ Henry smiled when Kaaren handed him a cup of coffee on a saucer. ‘‘Mange takk.’’

  ‘‘So, to go back to why we are here. Would you come work with me? I need help with the front desk—you know, making folks to feel to home—and with the bookwork especially. I just can’t get up and down those stairs like I used to.’’

  ‘‘You’re an old woman, and I’m an older man. Saints be praised we hung on this long.’’

  ‘‘Speak for yourself.’’ She pushed at Henry’s knee.

  ‘‘Careful, you’ll make me spill my coffee.’’ He poured some in the saucer and blew on it before slurping it down.

  Kaaren set a slice of cake in front of everyone and then took a seat herself.

  ‘‘But what will you do when I start to show?’’

  ‘‘Why, we’ll make you bigger dresses. You and the baby will have a room of your own, and you’ll carry him or her in a sling like your mor did with you and Grace.’’

  She has it all figured out. Sophie stared at the woman she’d known as Bestemor all her life, even though the relationship technically wasn’t so. But since Kaaren had once been Bridget’s daughter-in-law, that made her the honorary matriarch over all the families.

  ‘‘Just say you will, Sophie, and we will go back and fix up a room just for you. I will love to have you close to hand.’’

  Sophie sighed and nodded. ‘‘I will come. When?’’

  ‘‘Is tomorrow too soon?’’

  ‘‘She’d take you back with us today if you let her.’’ Henry leaned forward and patted Sophie’s hand. ‘‘A pretty face like yours is just what the boardinghouse needs. Always a sight for old eyes.’’

  ‘‘But . . . but what about when I am sick in the morning?’’

  ‘‘We will work around that. Soon you will feel much better.’’

  Henry laid his fork back on his plate. ‘‘Now we got that settled, we best be on our way.’’

  ‘‘You could stay for dinner.’’ Kaaren held up the coffeepot, the universal signal for refills.

  ‘‘Nei, I’m needed to be home.’’

  ‘‘She’s just afraid Mrs. Sam might realize she can get along without her,’’ Henry confided as he helped his wife to her feet. ‘‘You sure you don’t want to come along with us now?’’

  Sophie thought a moment. Uff da. How am I supposed to know what to do?

  21

  ‘‘I WILL INTRODUCE YOU to all of our guests at supper.’’

  Sophie felt like she was on an out-of-control buggy ride. Choosing to come in with Bridget and Henry rather than waiting until school was out to have Grace bring her to the boardinghouse had seemed the best decision at the time. The easiest for everyone. There hadn’t been many guests for dinner, but that was the usual, Bridget had told her. Shortly after they had arrived, Henry had gone to their room for a nap, causing Bridget to check on him frequently in between fixing up Sophie’s new room.

  ‘‘You’ve made some changes
since I left.’’

  ‘‘That we have. Haakan and Lars, they took out a wall to make bigger the dining room. Since the flour mill got going, we have needed more room. We are talking about adding on another section. With more people living here in Blessing and around the area, we have more drummers passing through too.’’

  Sophie knew drummers meant salesmen, not musicians. ‘‘You have a good reputation. They even knew the Bjorklund name in Seattle.’’

  ‘‘Bjorklund cheese?’’

  ‘‘Ja, and people on the train knew of this boardinghouse. They said if you want a good meal, stay here.’’

  ‘‘That is good.’’ Bridget beamed. ‘‘I will show you how to register people.’’

  ‘‘Like a hotel more than a boardinghouse.’’

  ‘‘Ja, if you say so. They must write their name and home address and business, if they are on business. Some of the rooms are different prices; those are listed here in the front. We have three rooms that men can share if they want to go cheaper. This is the list of guests.’’

  Sophie glanced down the list, seeing no names that she recognized. But then when she thought of it, she’d not paid a lot of attention to the boardinghouse last summer. ‘‘What do all these people do?’’

  ‘‘Mr. Vell, he is the barber. Mr. Wiste runs the flour mill, and these two work at the flour mill also. Miss Maisie Christopherson owns the Dress-Making Shop. She sews mostly ladies’ dresses, but she makes some hats too. This one works for the railroad, and this man runs the grain elevator. Blessing is really growing, you know.’’

  ‘‘Looks like it. In Ballard, at Mrs. Soderstrum’s, she had one long table where everyone had their own place, not small tables like those in your dining room.’’

  ‘‘Did you like that better?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know about better, but you can pass the serving dishes from one person to another more easily.’’

  ‘‘Ja. We are more restaurant style, but mostly we have too many for one long table. And everyone does not eat at the same time. We serve Mr. Wiste after eight every night, so we keep food warm for him. I think he has had some tragedy in his life. He never smiles.’’

  ‘‘And the barber?’’

  ‘‘He closes his shop at six, so he can eat on time. He likes his meals nice and hot, that one.’’

  ‘‘And Miss Christopherson?’’ While she asked the question, Sophie wondered what this woman looked like. She must be brave to come to a strange town and start her own business.

  ‘‘The same. When Penny started closing her doors at six, the others followed suit. The Garrisons, who own the new grocery store, they got their house built, so they moved out a week or two ago. Andrew started something with his Sears and Roebuck house. There are three of them in town now.’’

  Sophie tried to get all this information in her head, but all she could think on was that one man’s tragedy. What could have happened to him? Tragedy she understood. Ah, Hamre, if only . . . She swallowed the thoughts and the tears. Right now she wanted a nap, something she could have had at home. Had she made another hasty decision she might come to regret?

  They could hear the whistle of the westbound train, and the entire building shook as the train squealed to a stop just past the boardinghouse. Not long afterward two men came laughing through the doorway.

  ‘‘Ah, Mrs. Aarsgard, it’s hoping I am to have a room and a bath.’’

  ‘‘Ja, Mr. O’Rourke, did you want a single or shared?’’

  ‘‘Single if you have one.’’

  ‘‘This is my granddaughter, Mrs. Bjorklund. She will be helping you.’’ She turned to Sophie. ‘‘Mr. O’Rourke is a regular.’’

  ‘‘Welcome to Blessing Boarding House. I am pleased to meet you.’’

  Sophie could feel her knees trembling, along with her stomach. Please don’t start now. She concentrated on what the man was saying.

  ‘‘Ah, and a lovely lass like this would make any man feel welcome.

  Haven’t I seen you before?’’

  ‘‘Most likely. My sister and I helped out here sometimes in the summers.’’

  ‘‘Summer is good. That wind today nearly blew the train off the tracks, let alone us poor working men as we stepped off it. Dillings-worth here, I had to grab him by the ankles to keep him from flying away.’’

  Sophie handed him a pen. ‘‘You need to sign here.’’

  ‘‘You already have my address.’’

  ‘‘Perhaps so, but if you will fill it in again, that will make it easier.’’ Please don’t give me an argument. If her face was turning as pale as she feared and her stomach kept churning, she might have to leave in a hurry.

  ‘‘Easier for who?’’

  ‘‘Now don’t you go giving her a bad time. Just because she is young and pretty, don’t make her up to your jokes.’’ Bridget scolded him like he was one of her own kin.

  Now Sophie did almost smile as the man took a step back and sketched a bow.

  ‘‘I beg pardon, miss.’’

  ‘‘Mrs.’’

  ‘‘Aye. I thought perhaps I misheard, Mrs. Bjorklund.’’ His right eyebrow cocked in a way that said surely she must be joking. ‘‘I thought both of the Bjorklund boys were already married.’’

  ‘‘Sophie married my great-nephew,’’ Bridget informed him.

  ‘‘Ah, now I remember. You are one of the Knutson twins.’’ He smiled at Bridget. ‘‘She has grown into a lovely young woman, hasn’t she?’’

  ‘‘Uff da, the way you go on.’’ Bridget rolled her eyes at him, and he smiled in response.

  Sophie might have laughed had she felt able. She flipped to the front of the book to check the room rates. ‘‘You will be staying how long?’’

  ‘‘Only overnight this time. Just needed to get me a fill of good fare. You have no idea how bad some of the food is when you’re a traveling man.’’ He leaned an elbow on the desktop. ‘‘That’s why I tell all my friends about the Blessing Boarding House. Dillingsworth came because I recommended it. Right, my friend?’’

  ‘‘Ja, if his blarney can be believed.’’

  ‘‘Blarney?’’ Sophie asked, pushing the registration book toward him.

  ‘‘It’s Irish for blather.’’

  ‘‘Blather?’’

  ‘‘You know, friendly talking like we been doing.’’

  Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘‘That’ll be one dollar and fifty cents.’’

  ‘‘I’ll take a shared room,’’ the shorter man said, smoothing his mouse brown hair back with one hand.

  ‘‘And what do you sell, Mr. Dillingsworth?’’

  ‘‘Washing machines.’’

  ‘‘Washing machines?’’ Sophie stared at him.

  ‘‘Would you like to see a picture? I’m hoping Mrs. Bjorklund over at the store will decide to carry them. My mighty machines will save the backs and hands of all the women of Blessing, leaving them far more time to cook and care for the children. Cleaner clothes in half the time. No more hand wringing and rubbing knuckles raw on a scrub board.’’

  ‘‘I see.’’ Sophie glanced at the picture he laid on the counter. ‘‘What a contraption.’’

  ‘‘Just wait until you see a demonstration. Why, Mrs. Aarsgard, you need two of these right here in the boardinghouse. Launder all those sheets and wring them dry enough to freeze real quick. Why, in the summer a nice breeze will dry them before you can bring another load out.’’

  Sophie and Bridget exchanged amused looks. Get that young man going and he didn’t know when to stop.

  ‘‘Complete satisfaction or your money back.’’

  ‘‘I saw his demonstration,’’ O’Rourke added. ‘‘What a miracle machine he has. You ought to look at it. Can’t hurt none.’’ He tipped his hat. ‘‘First room on the right at the top of the stairs, right?’’

  Bridget nodded. ‘‘That is so. And you, Mr. Dillingsworth, follow him and four doors down, also on the right. Take your pick of the beds. No one else is in there ye
t.’’

  As the men started up the stairs, talking and laughing, Bridget turned to Sophie. ‘‘You did just fine, but I warn you, watch out for such as O’Rourke. He’s got a silver tongue and a way with the women.’’ She lowered her voice. ‘‘And he always has a flask along—or two.’’

  ‘‘How do you know that?’’

  ‘‘He leaves them on the chest of drawers or beside the bed. You just need to be careful, is all.’’

  Sophie took in a deep breath, but nothing helped. ‘‘Excuse me.’’ She headed for the basin in her room. Afterwards, she lay down on the bed, hoping she would feel better soon. She thought back to the boardinghouse in Ballard. If there had been flasks in the rooms, she’d sure never heard of it. But then there were saloons aplenty out there—not like here, where the women had made sure such a business never came to town.

  She drifted off and awoke when Bridget brought a tray with tea and flatbread.

  ‘‘I thought this might help.’’

  ‘‘I’m feeling better now, thank you. I’m sorry for leaving like that.’’

  ‘‘I wondered. You were getting whiter by the minute.’’ Bridget set the tray on a small table by the rocking chair. ‘‘Come drink this and see if it helps. I’ve found that flatbread is good medicine. You keep some here in your room for the mornings.’’

  After drinking the tea, Sophie straightened her clothing, smoothed her hair, and made her way back to the kitchen, where supper preparations were well under way. She donned an apron and asked what she could do to help.

  When Trygve arrived with her trunk on his shoulder, she led the way to her new room on the first floor, right next to Bridget and Henry’s. While they had a sitting room, her bedroom was large enough to have space for a bed for the baby too. She also had a chest of drawers and a dressing table.

  He set the trunk in the corner. ‘‘You could stay at home with us and come in here every day.’’

  ‘‘I know, but Bridget wants someone to be here in the late evenings, so this will be better.’’ She couldn’t look at him or say what she was thinking: Besides, I don’t think Far wants me there anymore.