Reunion: A Novel

by Lauraine Snelling

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  Table of Contents

  A Preview of One Perfect Day

  A Preview of On Hummingbird Wings

  A Preview of Breaking Free

  Copyright Page

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  Chapter One

  What’s this?”

  The tissue-wrapped box on the dining room table failed to answer. Strange, no name on it. No card. Just a square, white box with a curly blue ribbon spilling over its sides.

  Curiosity was one of Keira Johnston’s failings. Although she’d never opened a present before its time, she’d thought about it a lot. Shaking the box, albeit gently, left her with no more information. Since she and her husband, Bjorn, were the only two people who now lived in this big old house, it had to be for one of them. She pondered the box, then picked it up and sniffed it. Still no clues.

  Just as she dug her cell phone out of her purse, she heard the back door open. She called, “I’m in here.”

  “Where’s here?”

  “The dining room. Do you know anything about this box on the table?” She turned at her husband’s entrance and gave him a welcome-home hug.

  “Hmm. Who could have left that?” His blue eyes twinkled. “Who’s it for?”

  “No card, no name, just a white box with a pretty ribbon.” She watched his face to see if he was teasing her. He seemed as confused as she was.

  “So open it.”

  “What if it’s for you?”

  “Why would someone give me a present? It’s not my birthday.”

  “Nor mine. Our anniversary is still three months away. Who would put a present here on the table?” She looked pointedly from him to the box, swiping a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hair usually swung in the blunt-cut style she’d worn for years, but now it was in need of a cut and probably a highlight session again. Dark blond, it looked naturally sun streaked due to the gray turned silver around her face. “You open it.”

  “What, you’re afraid of a bomb or something?”

  “No. I’m just trying to be generous and my curiosity is killing me.”

  He hefted the box. “Can’t be a bomb, too light.”

  “Bjorn Johnston, just open it.” She rolled her eyes when he shook his head. “All right. I’ll get the scissors and we’ll open it together. Surely there will be a card or something inside.” She dug a pair of scissors out of the “stuff drawer” in the kitchen and returned to stand by him.

  “Maybe we’d better sit down.” Bjorn pulled out an oak chair from the table. “Oh, did you tell Paul about the date for the family reunion? He called and I couldn’t remember the exact day.” Paul was their elder son, who was twenty-four and married to Laurie. They lived in Houston, Texas.

  She rolled her eyes again. “How could you not know? It is on every calendar in the house and the office. The third weekend in June. I’ll e-mail him. We’re due at Leah’s for supper tonight.”

  “Oh, I forgot that too. Something must be wrong with the calendar on my cell phone. I set the reminder feature but it didn’t. Remind me, that is.” He picked up the box, propping his elbows on the table. “Okay, cut the ribbon.” Together they unwrapped the tissue paper to find a white box, about eight inches square. They set it on the antique dark-oak table. Bjorn shrugged, opened the one flap lid, and handed the box to her.

  Using finger and thumb, Keira lifted the layer of tissue paper inside to see some papers fanned out in a circle so they’d fit in the box. She pulled them out and let out a shriek.

  “Norway, tickets to Norway!”

  “I was listening, you know.”

  Keira Johnston danced across the room, waving the packet with airline tickets and threw her arms around her husband, nearly toppling him from the chair.

  “Easy.” He hugged her back, halfway righting himself. “I wasn’t sure you really wanted to go.”

  “You!” She gave him a playful swat on the shoulder. “How could you tease me like this? How could you keep such a straight face, lying through your teeth? You had me really believing you.”

  “I know. I think I deserve an Oscar for this performance.”

  “Modesty sure becomes you.” Keira checked the box. “That’s all, eh? No wonder there was no rattle and no weight. Tickets to Norway.” Keira’s eyes widened and she hugged him again. “You said we couldn’t go this year. That we’d celebrate our twenty-fifth anniversary next year.”

  “Really? Did I say that?”

  She pulled back enough to stand next to him, one hand on his shoulder. “Stop with the teasing. You know you did.”

  “Well, how could I surprise you if I gave in so easily?”

  “True.” She leaned her head on his. “Will Leah and Marcus be able to go?” Her brother, Marcus, was pastor of a local church and his wife, Leah, was Keira’s best friend.

  “They don’t know yet.” He looked up to search her face. “We could go alone, couldn’t we?”

  “Sure, but… it’s just that we’ve always talked about all of us going together. Of course we always used to plan on taking Mother with us.” After a moment’s silence, Keira tucked the rebellious strand of hair behind her ear again. “I think I can’t believe this yet.” She stared at the picture on the front of the brochure of deep-blue fjords set against snow-crowned mountains. “Wait, what are the dates?”

  “August. I know the family reunion is eating up all our time between now and the end of June. By August we’ll be more than ready for some away time.”

  Keira leaned closer and kissed him again. “You are such a good man, Bjorn Johnston.” She smoothed a lock of white hair across his widening crown. “Not sure why you love me, but I am grateful that you do.”

  “Ah, Keira, you promised to stop thinking that. Remember?”

  “I know. I don’t think about it, or at least not like I used to, but…”

  Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her into his lap. “Uffda, good thing this is a sturdy chair.”

  She nestled against him. “Have you told the boys yet?” Besides Paul, they had a younger son, Eric, who was still in college and majoring in business.

  “Nope, I thought you’d like to do that.” He nuzzled her ear. “You know this means finding your birth certificate so you can get a passport. And it needs to be done soon.”

  Keira bolted upright and stared at him. “Oh, I forgot about that. It does.” She scrubbed her fingers through her hair, making it messy again. She glanced at her watch. “Well, I can’t go out to Mother’s today but I’ll get on it. We’re due at Leah’s for supper in ten minutes and you know Marcus likes his meals on time.” She paused. “If only I knew for sure where I was born, I could call the hospital and get another copy. Why didn’t I ever ask Mother?”

  Bjorn heaved a sigh and himself to his feet. “I’m sure she put it somewhere safe. What are you bringing?”

  “The pan of rolls. I’ll get my jacket.”

  “It’s raining.”

  “Drive or umbrella?” she called from the coat closet.

  “Get mine, will you please? And you’d better comb your hair.”

  Keira groaned, slung the two coats over her arm, and grabbed an umbrella from the hall stand. “I’ll be right back.” She stared into the mirror in the guest bath. “You know better than to just finger comb it.” She brushed her hair and grinned at the
face in the mirror at the same time. “Norway. We are going to Norway after all.”

  Bjorn honked the car horn from the garage to let her know that he had decided to drive. It wasn’t just raining; now the windows ran rivers.

  They pulled under the overhang of the garage at the house three doors down, which was actually a pretty far distance, since the lots were large enough to make it a city block away. Grateful for the breezeway that led to the back door, they hustled inside where Leah held the screen door open for them.

  “Good thing you drove or you’d have to have worn scuba flippers.”

  Keira handed her the foil-wrapped pan. “These are still warm, but you might want to heat them a bit.”

  “Do you know?” She glanced from Keira to Bjorn, who was standing right behind his wife.

  “He gave me the tickets!” Keira threw her arms around her best friend, who was also her sister-in-law. “I am so excited.”

  “I never would have guessed.” Leah gave her a one-armed hug back. “Careful, I might drop the rolls.”

  Keira’s musical laugh danced along in front of her. “Is Marcus already seated at the table?”

  “No, he’s still in his office. Bjorn, you go right on in and I’ll see if I can get Miss Flabbergasted here calmed down.”

  “Just remind her she has to find her birth certificate. That’ll do it.” He hooked his jacket on the row of glass cabinet knobs on the board and strode through the kitchen. “Marcus, come help calm your sister down.”

  “Coming,” a deep voice returned from the other end of the house.

  Keira heaved a sigh. “I’ll start seriously looking tomorrow. Where can it be? I have already torn that house apart, searching for Mother’s important papers so I could settle her estate.”

  “I know you have. I was there, remember? Well, we’ll just have to look for it again and at the same time we’ll dig out all the pictures for the memory book for the family reunion. I should have had that at least half finished by now. Reunion will be here in just a few weeks.” Leah, a barely five-foot dynamo with short curly hair, smiled up at Keira.

  Keira reached up in the cupboard for a basket for the rolls and Leah dumped them in. The two had worked together for so many years that, like a good old married couple, they read each other’s minds. “Anything else need doing?”

  “Just set the serving dishes on the table.”

  “Is Kirsten here?” Keira paused and sobered. “Oh, Leah, I so want you both to go. It would be absolutely perfect if all the kids could go too, but I know that’s impossible. Remember how the boys always played so well together? The best of friends. There are good reasons for having cousins about the same ages.” Her eyebrows rose. “You are going, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “We’ll see.” Leah popped the basket in the microwave. “Fifteen seconds enough time?”

  “That should do it.”

  “I thought you said dinner was all ready?” Marcus called from the dining room.

  “Coming.” Leah pulled the casserole from the oven and motioned Keira to bring the rolls.

  The foursome was seated and grace had been said when the front door opened and Leah and Marcus’s daughter, Kirsten, blew in, shouting a good-bye over her shoulder. “Puppies, I should have waited. I thought you’d be done eating by now, so we stopped for a burger.”

  “And hi to you too,” Leah greeted her teenage daughter.

  As the youngest and only girl between the two families, her niece held a special place in Keira’s heart; she was more like a daughter, really. After her two sons were born, Keira lost two babies in the first trimester and she’d ended up needing a hysterectomy. She’d always dreamed of having a daughter. Although she now had her daughter-in-law, Laurie, she and Paul lived too far away to spend much time together. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

  Tall, blond, and walking like the “princess” her father called her, Kirsten hugged each of those around the table. “Sure smells good in here.”

  “Get yourself a place setting.”

  “No, thanks. I’ll be back down for dessert. I’ve got a bunch of calls to return for the committee.” Kirsten was heading the decorations committee for her graduation ceremony in a week. “And then I have to prep for my finals. Aunt Keira, did you by any chance bring any cookies to keep my energy up while I study until the wee hours?”

  Keira passed her plate to Marcus, who was serving from the pottery dish in front of him. “I’ll make sure you have plenty. I thought you were all ready?”

  “I thought so too, but lately it’s been so crazy, my mind has holes in it. Need to plug up a few.”

  “Thanks.” Keira smiled at her brother, then looked back to her niece. “You heard anything on that application yet?”

  Kirsten looked to her mother, who shrugged. “Yes! I got it! The packet came today. The scholarship will cover tuition, books, and fees. I just have to pay for housing.” Her eyes sparkled. “I thought for sure Mom would have told you by now.”

  “I’ve not seen her until ten minutes ago.” Leah winked at Keira. “And we had something else to discuss too.”

  “You want to go to Norway with us?” Was that a slight flinch she saw on Bjorn’s face? Why would he do that?

  “You are going? Oh, I’d love to, but…” Kirsten squinted to think better. “It’s the last three weeks of August, right?”

  “Yes. Three whole weeks in Norway, the land of your forefathers.”

  “And mothers,” Leah added.

  “I have to be at school by then. Could you go any earlier?” Kirsten shook her head, setting her straight blond hair to swinging. “But even if you could, it won’t work. All my money has to go for school expenses.” She turned to her mother. “Are you and Dad going?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Kirsten came around the table, draped her arms over her aunt and uncle, and kissed their cheeks. “You deserve a trip like that. I’ll go someday.” She headed for the stairway and called over her shoulder. “But take Mom and Dad with you.”

  “Right. Then who’s going to help you get ready for school?” Leah raised her voice.

  Kirsten called back from three-quarters of the way up the walnut staircase. “That’s what July is for.” Her laugh made those around the table smile.

  “I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again.” Keira smiled at her brother and her best friend. “If I ever had a daughter, I would want her to be just like Kirsten. What a kid.”

  “If only she wouldn’t drive herself so hard. Going to end up in bed again the way she’s going.” Leah’s smile took the sting from her words. “But we’ll make it through.”

  “And then she can sleep for as long as she needs.”

  “Me too.” Leah sighed. “I wish.”

  “As long as you’re looking for your birth certificate, maybe you can find mine.” Marcus took a roll from the basket and inhaled deeply. “Glad we only needed our baptismal certificates to get our driver’s licenses. Being fifteen sure was a long time ago.” He chuckled and inhaled again. “Ah, nothing smells as good as freshly baked rolls.” He looked toward his sister. “So, where will you start? I know you brought home all the papers from Mother’s desk and the file cabinet after her funeral. Where else might she have kept them?” His eyes widened. “You don’t suppose she put them away for safekeeping and…”

  “And never found them again?” Keira finished his sentence. She nibbled her bottom lip. “Oh, I hope that’s not it. Please, Lord, let that not be so.” A chuckle skittered around the table. They all knew Dagmar Sorenson and her stash-and-store habits.

  Bjorn set his knife precisely on the edge of his plate. “Well, all I have to say is that we all better be praying hard.” He smiled. “Otherwise, Keira, you’ll be spending all of your time researching to find out for sure if you were even born and you just might miss the passport deadline.”

  “And I still need to get ready for the family reunion.” Keira groaned and huffed out a brea
th.

  “Tomorrow we start looking,” Leah said with a firm nod. “Tomorrow morning at eight.”

  Please, Lord, help me find it and quickly.

  Chapter Two

  They were halfway out to the farm, just past the Munsford city limits sign, when Keira slowed to a stop on the side of the street. She heaved a sigh and turned to stare at her best friend. “I have to confess that I hate going out there now that Mother is gone. Bjorn took care of all the winterizing and he’s the one who’s been going out to check on the place. Maybe we ought to sell it or rent it or something. The house needs to be lived in; houses don’t do well at all when they’re left vacant.”

  “Well, first we’ll have to clean it up, toss out all the stuff Dagmar kept saving, and label all of her ‘treasures.’ ” Using her years of nursing skills, Leah kept her tone even and matter of fact. “Then the sale has to be agreed upon by you and Marcus. I know the kids will go along with whatever you decide.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “About selling the house? I don’t know. Right now you need to find your and Marcus’s birth certificates, and I want the photographs for the memory book.” She raised a hand to stop Keira from answering. “I think we can leave any decision for a later time, like after the reunion.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Keira muttered under her breath. She put the car in gear and pulled back onto the street. Why she was so hesitant to visit the home place she had no idea—and no desire to search deep enough within herself to find an answer.

  She parked in the driveway to the separate garage and stared at the square, two-story white house with the wraparound porch across the front and to the side toward the garage. White sheer curtains crossed in the upper windows, geraniums no longer graced the kitchen windows, and the drapes in the living room closed off the sunlight. The lilacs along the back fence were sprouting but not blooming yet, and traces of yellow remained of the forsythia that used the pump house for support. The oak trees wore the fuzz of a new season and the climbing Paul’s Scarlet rose stretched along the upper edge of the porch, the leaves and sprouting canes still more red than green. The barn swallows were dipping and catching flying insects along with building their mud nests under the eaves of the barn and the garage. Her father had always chased them away from the garage eaves, one more sign of change.