Chapter 9 #2
Several other skaters paused to pull at their scarves and hats. Some of them sped across the ice to chase their cups as they rolled, splattering drops of hot chocolate in their wake.
“Well, shoot.” Amanda pulled her collar up a little higher around her neck. “I didn’t really like that hat, anyway, but at least it was keeping me from turning into a human popsicle.”
“Here.” Lars took off his own hat and settled it on her head. He tugged at the brim a bit, adjusting her waves of dark hair around it.
“But what about you?” she protested.
“I’m fine. Besides, it looks nice on you.” He tenderly used his fingertip to swipe a stray hair off her forehead.
“You’re being too nice. Hats always look terrible on me.” Amanda took out her cell phone and turned on the camera, and she made a face when she saw the image of herself. “Okay, that’s actually not half-bad.”
“Why would it be? You could wear anything and make it look good.” He brushed her hair to the side one more time, grateful to the wind for giving him this opportunity.
She shot him a doubtful look. “You’re biased, but the hat itself is really pretty. I was looking at it a bit when you came to pick me up, actually. It doesn’t look like the kind of thing you can just go get in the store.”
“No, my mother made it.” He gently traced the dark blue pattern against the cream background. “This design is called the Selbu rose.”
“I always thought those were snowflakes,” she noted, turning her head a little more so she could get a better look at the knitting design without having to take it off.
“A lot of people do, but that’s just because they’ve been put on winter clothing so much. The flower has been used to represent Norway for hundreds of years,” he explained, “and it’s very important to my mother’s side of the family.”
She touched the hat again and then looked back up at him. For a moment, that distance he’d been so worried about dissipated. Amanda was asking about his history, and she looked like she genuinely wanted to know about it.
“My mother’s family is from the Selbu region.
” He paused, hoping he could remember it all accurately.
“Their economy was declining, but a young woman came up with this particular pattern. It started to become popular, and many people in the village started to make mittens and other clothes with the pattern on it. Soon, it turned into one of the biggest exports of Selbu. My grandmother could knit a pair of mittens without even looking at them, and she said the rose was what kept her family fed.”
“That’s beautiful. I think everything you tell me about your homeland is, though.”
“Now who’s biased?” he teased.
The clouds that’d been looming on the horizon all afternoon were now rolling in, low and gray, blotting out most of the sunset.
Thick, fluffy snowflakes began whirling down from the sky.
The pond had been alive with laughter and even a little music only a short time ago, but it was as though everyone at once had reached the limit of how much they could truly enjoy winter.
Mothers bundled their children into their station wagons, and the hot chocolate stand began closing down.
“I suppose we’d better get back,” Lars said regretfully.
She nodded. “I’ve got a long day at work tomorrow, anyway, and it’s going to take me a while to thaw out.”
Back in his rental car, Lars was tempted to restart the conversation he’d tried to have a while ago.
He didn’t want to return to Norway without at least getting the chance to tell Amanda how he felt about her, even if he couldn’t do anything about it.
The wind and cold, however, had completely changed the direction of their date. Was that fate guiding him?
They returned to her house, and he walked her up to the door. “Thank you for spending time with me.”
“I’m happy to.” She hesitated in her doorway and then reached up for the hat. “Oh, here. I need to give this back to you.”
He put his hand on hers to stop her. “Keep it.”
“But you said your mother made it,” Amanda protested.
“She did. She made it with love, and with the idea that it would be given to someone else to keep them warm. I think she’d be very happy that you have it.” He allowed himself to imagine the look on his mother’s face if she could be there to know that he’d found his true mate.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he replied, knowing that he truly was. “I want you to have it. With giving gifts on Christmas Eve and doing our Advent calendars, I was never able to hold onto a present for very long. You’ll have that much more time to enjoy it.”
“I’ll have plenty of excuses to wear it with this cold front that’s come in.”
He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close, wanting more than anything to warm her up himself.
Lars kissed her gently, his body and soul easily remembering those amazing moments with her in her bed, but he was teasing himself.
“Good. That way, you won’t forget about me after I’ve gone back home. ”
“But I won’t—”
“Goodnight, Amanda.” He stepped back, smiling at her but feeling the sorrow behind his eyes as he moved toward the porch stairs.
Her brows furrowed a bit, and the corners of her mouth went down. “Goodnight, Lars.”