Chapter 9
Cal instructs them to bundle up for the mandatory Christmas Eve Hiking Extravaganza.
“It’s really just a hike,” Danny says.
“But festive,” Cal says. There is something of a Santa hat requirement.
They drive (Eve drives) to the trailhead where Danny’s cross-country team did summer long runs.
The sky is deep, bright, Le Creuset blue.
All the pines are buried up to their knees in fat snowdrifts.
A track has been cut along the path, which is packed with boot prints.
It smells overwhelmingly of sap and bark and home.
When they step into a cold, dark hush—where the new forest cedes to old growth—Cal says what he always says: “See this, kids? Now this is a cathedral.”
“That’s exactly it,” Eve says. “That’s it exactly.”
A few times, Cal stops to take pictures, which isn’t like him. Usually, he says the forest is best experienced with all the senses.
“Should I read into that?” Danny asks.
“Are you texting someone?” Eve says.
“Who’s Beatrice?” Danny asks.
Cal tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Just a nice gal I’ve been seeing! Nothing to get all nosy about.”
“Kid detective,” Danny says. “Is she your girlfriend?”
Eve claps. “How did you meet?”
“On Pattern, if you must know.”
“We must. Dad, you sly dog.”
“Oh, come on. Nothing to get excited about. Now, get moving before your toes freeze.”
But once Danny sees it, he can’t stop noticing how often Cal reaches for his phone. Cal has never been a big phone guy, but now he’s glancing at his notifications at stoplights; typing furiously over the stovetop as the water for pasta boils.
“Are you texting Beatrice again?” Danny asks.
“Hey, Eve, pretty good thing we’re not making you eat lutefisk, huh?”
“What’s lutefisk?” Eve asks.
“Cod soaked in lye,” Danny says. “Dad, stop changing the subject.”
“It’s a very vegetarian Norwegian Christmas here!” Cal says. “Gnocchi with pesto.”
Danny cranes his neck to see Cal’s screen. It is not, in fact, a text thread. It’s a screen Danny knows well: the Bug chat interface.
Cal locks his phone. “You know, you’re not as cute as you were when you were twelve. Lot harder to get away with that.”
“Not true,” Danny says. “I’m very cute. It’s the big, guileless eyes.”
“Keep your guileless eyes to yourself,” Cal says.
They eat their very vegetarian dinner and Danny makes a fire.
The glogg is served hot, in red mugs. Cal tells the story of his father, who emigrated from Norway at sixteen and brought with him a recipe for glogg, an indisputable work ethic, and a last name that would forever put Danny first in line.
Then Cal wants to know all about Eve’s family’s traditions.
“We always did church on Christmas Eve and Christmas,” Eve says.
“Really! Are you religious?”
“Not anymore.”
There is a pause, but Cal doesn’t pursue this further. Danny sees him wanting to and ultimately deciding he is not willing to risk it.
“Where’s Beatrice this week?” Eve asks.
“Visiting her daughter in Portland. I got us a cruise in May, though. That’s her present. You know I’ve always wanted to take a cruise. Really glitzy stuff. You wouldn’t believe these pictures of the boat.”
“That’s amazing!” Eve says. Eve once told Danny she would rather descend to the ninth circle of hell than cruise. When Eve’s family went on vacation, they went to cousins’ houses in St. Lucia and great-aunts’ pied-à-terres in the 7th Arrondissement. Olsens do not buffet. “That’ll be so fun.”
Danny rubs his neck, which feels too warm.
Gifts: Eve gets Cal a fancy coffee maker and Danny a wool dress coat with perfect silver buttons. Danny gets Cal cross-country skis and Eve gold earrings and a collector’s edition of Paradise Lost. Cal gets Eve and Danny matching Christmas sweaters with ice-skating penguins.
“But I have more stuff!” Cal says. “Just hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Oh my god, no, this is so perfect,” Eve says. She pulls on the sweater over her dress.
“Dad, you really don’t need to get us anything else. This is awesome.”
“You both spent so much money. Of course I got you more than just a sweater!”
“Dad,” Danny says.
“Well!” Cal gets to his feet. “I’m thinking it’s just about bedtime, huh?”