The Wooden Chair (36 page)

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 legs 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.

“Wouldn’t you consider coming to Geneva instead? We have plenty of room.”

Papi’s sigh on the other end of the line was heavy. “This is one of the rare times I have to turn you down, Leini. Just think for a minute—Mira is your mother. Isn’t it time to repair the rift between you?”

On her lap Yigal squirmed, giving a little squeal, about to start screaming for his meal.

“One day I have to settle things with Mira. You’re right, this rift can’t go on indefinitely. I don’t know if I’m ready for a reconciliation, though.”
I’ve come a long way thanks to therapy with Dr. Morgenthaler, but am I strong enough to spend time together with Mira?

“When will you be ready, do you think?”

Good question.
“I don’t know.”

“Think about vacationing here.”

Yigal screamed, loud and demanding.

“Sorry, Papi, I have to go. Yigal’s getting hungry.”

“Yigal sounds angry. How is he?”

She chuckled. “At barely two months he has a diamond-hard will, but fed and clean he’s wonderful. His eyes are still as green as when he was newborn. They’re smiling even when he cries. I keep saying he cries sunshine tears. Hannele adores him. Every chance she has, she’s draped over his crib.”

“I miss them. I miss you all.” A faint hiss reached her over the line, Papi puffing on his pipe. “Consider what I said; it would mean a lot to me to have you here.”

“I have to think about it. Let’s see what Bill says.”

While she gave Yigal his formula, while she dressed Hannele after her nap, Leini kept thinking about the conversation. She found it difficult to refuse Papi, but a visit to Helsinki entailed meeting Mira, and filled Leini with dread. While she oversaw Hannele have her afternoon snack, Leini rotated her head to release the stress tension in her neck.

“Last bite, Hannele.”

She swallowed the spoonful of mashed banana mixed with orange juice and gave Leini a broad smile. “Mami nice.”

Kissing Hannele’s forehead, she inhaled her baby smell. “Thank you, darling. Hannele’s nice, too.” Snack finished, Leini held her arm as she slid off the chair. “Will you help Mami bathe Yigal?”

Nodding her head with vigor, she rushed to the bathroom. “Hannele bath.”

“Sure, sweetie. As soon as I’ve put Yigal to bed I’ll help you bathe. How’s that?”

Hannele beamed a smile.

After the children were bathed, Leini glanced at the kitchen clock: a few minutes to five. She was ahead of schedule, but after Papi’s phone call she was disturbed and needed to keep busy to still the gnawing worry vibrating just under the surface. She flitted from room to room, folding a newspaper here, plumping a pillow there. Outside, both Hannele and Nutella bustled around her as she removed wilted stems in the boxes of geraniums and petunias, watering flowers although it had rained the night before. Inside, she stretched on the couch, Hannele’s head resting on her midriff as she read her a story.

The children are ready for bed after they’ve spent some time with Bill. Then I can talk to him about the vacation.
She decided they were going to have wine with dinner, something they weren’t in the habit of doing, but she was so tense and nervous, a glass of wine was going to relax her. She opened a bottle of white wine and sipped a glass while she prepared their meal.
Ah, I feel so much better.
And she poured a second glass.

As he took his place at the dinner table, Bill glanced at the bottle and Leini’s half empty glass of the yellowish liquid. “Wine with dinner. Are we celebrating something?”

She tilted her head to the side, blinked into his eyes and smiled what she thought was a beguiling smile. “We’re not celebrating anything. I wanted some wine, is all.” Glass in hand, she half rose. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Surprise and disapproval was in the vertical lines between his eyebrows, or so she imagined. “Don’t get up, Leini. No, I have no problem with wine for dinner, but we usually don’t drink during the week.”

Draining her glass in a couple of deep gulps, she reached for the bottle for a refill, but Bill was faster. He splashed some liquid in her glass and pushed the cork in the neck.

“It’s silly to save the rest of the wine. It will only spoil.” She held her glass. “Here, I’ll finish it.

“What’s with you, Leini? You don’t usually drink.”

“I do now.” She waved the glass close to his face, a few drops sprinkling over the table. “I want another glass of wine. Now!”

“Here, have all you want.” He worked on the cork till he could remove it, then pushed the bottle to where it touched her plate.

About to bring the newly filled glass to her lips, she glanced at him. “You look so…so disapproving. Don’t you like me anymore?”

He rose. “Thanks for dinner, Leini.” He left the kitchen, not even bothering to take his plate to the sink although he usually helped her do the dishes.

While she put away the food and cleared the table, she finished the bottle of wine. A bit wobbly on her feet, she realized she must have drunk more than she thought.
But not the whole bottle; Bill had some, too.
That he only drank one glass seemed to slip her mind.

Leini found Bill in the living room seated in his rocking chair, his after-dinner coffee on the wide armrest. She wiggled to sit on the other side and leaned her head against his. “Papi phoned this afternoon. He wants us all to come to Helsinki sometime soon. I should make peace with Mira, he thinks. Hah! Me, make peace with Mira!”

Bill glanced at her. “So that’s why you drank and only picked at your food? You know drinking doesn’t solve anything.” He sipped his coffee and replaced the cup in its saucer.

“Don’t be angry, darling Bill. After I talked to Papi I was so scared I thought a glass of wine would calm me. Maybe I drank too much. Please, don’t be angry.”

“You keep repeating yourself. I’m not angry, but it worries me that you resorted to the bottle because you were upset.”

With the tips of her fingers, she caressed his cheek. “Wee-ell, it’s not exactly a habit with me, but I won’t do it again if you promise you’re not angry. Tell me you’re not. Angry I mean.”

He rustled the newspaper. “I’m not angry.”

“If you’re not angry, why do you sound angry?” When he didn’t answer, just kept staring at the paper, she poked at his hand with a forefinger. “Bill?”

“That’s enough, Leini. Now you’re making me angry. Let me finish reading the paper.” He spread it open in front of his face.

Pushing the paper down, she stared at him. “But I want to talk about Papi’s phone call.”

He shook his head, his eyes glued on the newspaper. “Not now. I don’t think you’re fit to talk about anything right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that we’ll talk about Papi and going to Helsinki after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“No, not tomorrow. I want to talk about it now.” She whined like the spoiled brat Mira used to call her, then switched to an ingratiation tone. “Let’s talk about it now.”

With the paper on his lap, he glared at her, his mouth a thin line, a pulse jumping rapidly at his temple. “I’m going to read the paper. Why don’t you go to bed?”

Resentment churned inside that he dismissed her like a recalcitrant child, but with back straight, head held high, she rose and left the living room. Fully clothed, she threw herself on their bed. Heavy sobs of self-pity and guilt shook her until she fell asleep.