Bruschetta #2
Katrine’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her pocket. Her features tightened in that characteristic way that meant a problem at work.
“You know, I don’t think my contract is going to last long here,” she casually said, setting the device on the table to gather her plate and cutlery. “Where would you want to go next?”
Elyna blinked; the moment of truth had crept upon her without warning. How had this one-time thing become an I’m-moving-around-the-world-with-you-again idea? Had Katrine forgotten that she’d only managed to drag her out of her father’s cottage because the carrot dangled under her nose was Japan?
“I… I like it here.”
A frown dipped her mother’s blond eyebrows, so light they were almost non-existent.
“For a time, sure. But this country is crazy, with all the bowing and their five different levels of politeness. And such a pain dealing with superiors, all those guys that think they know better than you because you’re a woman, and five years younger than them! Drittsekker[11]!”
Elyna inhaled sharply. Of course, her mother would never fit in here; she was as blunt as they came, Norwegian style. Some would find it refreshing, but in other cultures, it was awfully rude—southern Europe included.
“It’s… different.”
At once, sharpness returned to her mother’s eyes. “You’re just like your father, politically correct and all.”
The accusation landed like a slap, smarting like every bitter recrimination directed at David Trewith. “I try to refrain from judgement before I understand all parties,” Elyna retorted hotly, feeling the familiar anger surge.
“You need to be more assertive if you want to climb up the ladder,” her mother chastised as she stood.
“Do you mean nastier?”
The plate clattered in the sink with so much force it was a miracle it didn’t shatter. When Katrine whirled around, her cheeks were flushed with anger.
And there comes the usual rant.
As if on cue, a torrent of words was hurled her way, mainly about Elyna’s lack of ambition. All of it delivered in a nice package of anger and resentment that struck with every jab.
It was no use trying to retort; arguments would be treated like static cut off midway.
The pattern was familiar, frustration mounting with each new sentence until she exploded.
Furious, Elyna planted both palms on the wooden table, the sharp sound effectively shutting up her mother. “I don’t want to be an engineer, Mum!”
Deafening silence fell in the room. Her mother’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly in the best rendition of a fish pulled from water.
“You’ve got potential to do much better than a teacher.” Her tone was smooth, as if to coax her out of her defences. “With your multilingual abilities, you could work anywhere, change countries on a whim, discover the world. You will have endless opportunities. How about an interpreter for the UN?”
An interpreter, uh? The idea is nice. But I’m sick of changing countries on a whim. I want… I want…
Eventually, the words formed and tumbled out. “I want to find a place to call home.”
“On the other side of the continent, yes,” Katrine said dismissively. “But not here. I should have known this was a bad idea, you’ll be forever a gaijin in Japan. This is not anime and sakura, open your eyes!”
Wow, Mum has learnt a new foreign word. Too bad it’s an insult.
“There are good and bad sides in every country,” Elyna defended her position. “It’s the same everywhere! Food is shitty in Trondheim, and the noise was awful in Mexico and Italy, and let’s not talk about the weather in Cornwall.”
Her mother paused, making a humongous effort to calm herself. “True. You see, home is everywhere you want to be. I can offer you opportunities in the group if you want to…”
Maths! Ugh! Numbers, and equations, and more headache-inducing science. The wire of her patience, already stretched thin, finally snapped and her tone turned frigid. Final.
“I don’t want your opportunities.”
Her mother’s nostrils flared. “You ungrateful…”
Elyna stood, finding herself level with her opponent. “I don’t want to live like you. To BE like you.”
Katrine recoiled as if slapped; her daughter failed at keeping the flow of resentment inside. Like a dam bursting, the words that came out of her mouth were uncontrollable, devastating in their honesty.
“Home was everywhere YOU wanted to be! But Aksel and I, we didn’t get a choice! We were just hauled around like luggage and left in whatever school you chose.”
Her voice shook with the memory of difficult partings, and airports that smelt like teary goodbyes.
Every time a new language, every time being the outsider, the blond curiosity, barging into groups that had been together since childhood.
The only clarity to be found in that mess of emotions was that certainty.
“I don’t care about maths and careers. I won’t drag my family through that. ”
The kitchen fell silent after that, a battlefield recovering after a bombing. The hum of the refrigerator was the only noise, the rest of the bruschetta sadly forgotten; a failed peace offering in a war.
For once, her mother seemed stunned into silence.
Perhaps because Elyna had always been the peacemaker, gentle like her father, where Aksel was more volatile.
That her diplomatic daughter dared to point her shortcomings must have shattered something in Katrine’s carefully constructed world.
No one, except her ex-husband, ever judged the career she was so proud of.
The silence became so oppressive that Elyna struggled to breathe. Now that her frustration had found an outlet, sadness welled in her chest. In the wake of the devastating fight, tears spilt on her cheeks. Without another word, the young woman fled to her room and slammed the door shut.
So much for cooking.
When all tears had dried, Elyna sat on the edge of her bed, drinking in the silence.
On her desk, two tickets for the Nationals of kendo caught the light.
Hers, and Satsuki's. She picked them up, remembering how she'd talked her mother's ear off, not a week prior, about the event.
Unless Katrine had suddenly turned into a goldfish, her memory had become highly selective.
Elyna smoothed the tickets with her thumb. In lieu of her grief, quiet determination settled in her chest.
I don't need my mother's approval to choose my place, right?
Elyna: is dad around?
Aksel: coming home in a few, why?
Elyna: had a row with Mum. call me when he’s there
Aksel: oki doki.
Elyna: Do you think dad thinks about Mum sometimes?
Aksel: Yeah, each time we watch Alien ??