Chapter 4
Happy with the one good fish he’d caught for dinner, Leif fetched Mia’s new fiberglass dinghy at the marina.
He towed the boat beyond small, leafy islands; the hotel; and dozens of white-painted waterfront cottages.
Plastic boats were soulless compared to traditional wooden boats, he thought as he tied the blasted dinghy to the dock at Lyng?r Grocery. But these new ones were all the rage.
Mia’s cat followed Leif into the store. No one was manning the till. “Morning, Mia!” he called out.
“Back here!” she hollered from the back room.
Refrigerated shelving lined the rear walls, where he found Mia restocking tubes of shrimp cheese and caviar. He smiled as she approached, her hair sticking out in all directions. “Styled your hair with an eggbeater again?”
“Says the weirdo who only wears blue.”
“I dropped off your dinghy at the dock.”
“Oh jeez. I can’t afford it now. When you were in Oslo, my fridge died and I had to order a new one.” She unpacked fish pudding from the box at her feet. “And don’t be annoyed—you should have no problem finding another buyer. It’s pretty and red.”
“I don’t blame you, and I’m not annoyed.” He meant it. He just wasn’t keen on being a salesman, chasing customers and brownnosing them. “I have to head to work. Erik’s gone for the day. He’s visiting Ragnar.”
“OK, but just so you know, Ringpynten has a new owner. Mrs. Nilsen’s granddaughter, Ella Nilsen, inherited it.”
So Sunna had a name. Ella Nilsen. Leif shrugged one shoulder at Mia. Mrs. Nilsen hadn’t set foot in Lyng?r in as far back as he could remember. He had no recollection of her.
“I told Inger that the cottage is being put on the market and that she can’t garden or harvest berries at Ringpynten unless she gets permission from the new owner,” Mia said.
She was sitting on a stool, shelving smoked cod roe.
“Inger’s heartbroken and depressed about it.
You know how much she loves that property and gardening there. It’s her sanctuary.”
“Yes, I know,” Leif said, shaking his head.
“It’s no secret that she’s frustrated, maybe even a little bitter, that she can’t afford to buy the property herself.
Why doesn’t she ask Ella if she could continue to plant there, or at least collect her berries and rhubarb for cooking?
” He bent over to pet Bactus, who lay near his feet on the wood floor.
“Great idea. I’ll suggest it to her. I’m sure it will all work out—Ella seems nice,” Mia said. “Could you please hurry up and service Ringpynten’s boats so she can get around?”
“That job’s on the books for the third week of June.
” He’d have to work overtime to squeeze it in before then, throwing his routine out of whack.
He began to reconsider even as he said it.
He didn’t care for the way his gut had warmed when he spotted her earlier this morning, with her cowboy hat and guitar.
“I guess I could move the job up.” He didn’t mention that he’d already seen her.
He didn’t want to deal with Mia’s teasing, or risk her telling anyone else.
“It needs to be done quickly. She needs to sell the place immediately and get back to the States.” Mia squinted at the cooler.
“Ella seems different from anyone I’ve ever met.
And you know how I love different people.
I might finally have a chance to get to know a real American!
Please help her.” She stood and faced Leif.
“I don’t think Ella knows how to do things around here. ”
From his experience, most women knew how to get things done well enough. Leif reached for a jar of sursild, herring marinated in mustard sauce. He twisted off the lid. “Put this on my tab.”
“No problem,” Mia said, turning back to shelve some tubed caviar, “but please go to Ringpynten today. Lend her the dinghy to use until you’re done. You won’t regret it. If anything, you’ll find her charming.”
Leif skewered a piece of herring. Ella, with her soulful singing, was definitely capable of charming him.
Mia jigged one leg, as she frequently did when something weighed on her mind.
“Spill it,” Leif said.
“Ella bought a bunch of supplies from me. Could you take them to her? A favor to me.”
“Fine.” Leif sighed heavily. “Anything else?”
“She really wants to see G?sholmen. It has something to do with her ancestors. Maybe you could offer to take her there?”
“You’re asking me to chat up an American? You have to be joking.” He wondered what he and Ella would even talk about. Rodeos, NASCAR, and cowboy music?
“Are you worried Charlotte’s going to be jealous? She sure has gotten her claws into you.” Mia retrieved two sour cream containers from the cooler and pressed them against her chest. Pushing out her backside, she swayed from side to side, blowing air kisses.
“Ha ha, you’re a regular comedian. You know Charlotte and I just fool around sometimes. Neither one of us is interested in taking it further.”
Mia shook her head. “I just don’t understand that. But whatever works for you.”
“Right. I’ll see you at the party on Friday.” Leif tossed his empty herring jar into the rubbish bin at Mia’s feet.
“Wait—could you also fix the sink in Ella’s kitchen?”
He crossed his arms. Mia was really pushing it.
“Come on, just do it. You’ll like her. She’s colorful! A much-needed change around here.”
Change was the last thing he wanted. And his routine with Charlotte was just about perfect.
They’d been friends since their early teens, and he knew what to expect from her.
On the weekends, they went skeet shooting, played squash, and watched cooking shows.
Why would he want to do anything differently?
He reached for another jar of pickled herring and huffed. “Fine, I’ll drop by on the way to work.”