Chapter 12
He walked around the yard and came across a cassette player and headphones on a patio chair.
He held the headphones up to his ears, pushed the start button, and heard a male singer crooning about Colorado Rocky Mountain high, starlight, and raining fire in the sky.
Turning off the music, he picked up one of her boots and studied the sparrows stitched on the leather. He laughed. Oh Ella, you’re charming.
He scanned the Lyng?r Sound. No sign of Ella.
Why hadn’t she left him a note? That stung him more than he cared to admit, but it was probably for the best if she didn’t come to the party.
He could relax and not feel any pressure to make sure she had a good time.
Guilt poked at him for not following through with his promise to take Charlotte to the party.
She was happy to do what they’d always done together, like cross-country skiing at Erik’s vacation cottage in the mountains over Easter break or biking the same loop in the nearby coastal city of Arendal on sunny spring days.
Charlotte never challenged him or suggested that he try something different.
It was why things were so easy with her.
As far as they went, anyway. On the other hand, he sensed Ella would shake up his life.
He wasn’t sure how, but he felt certain she would do just that if he let her into his world. Nah, things are just fine as they are.
Staring at the cloudy sky, he touched the leather cord that hung around his neck and inched the aquamarine pendant from his shirt. He quickly kissed the stone, saying, “Keep her safe, Njord.” The pendant had belonged to his father. Now it lay near his heart, always.
· · ·
Leif cut Rán’s engine and allowed the boat to drift into a slip at the grocery dock where Mia waited, her shoulders hunched under the weight of two bulging canvas bags.
“Hey there,” she said, smiling at him. “Where’s Ella? I thought you’d be bringing her.”
No, she blew me off, he thought. Aloud he said, “Something came up. Let’s go—I want to get there early and set up before anyone arrives.” He leaned over the boat railing, grabbed the beer crate, and hauled it aboard.
As he threw off the lines, Mia eyed him from the passenger seat. “You’re disappointed about Ella, aren’t you?”
“Why should I care? It’s good she’s not coming.”
Yes, she was creative and interesting—not to mention stunning—but she made his heart beat a bit too fast for comfort. He wasn’t disappointed, was he?
“Everyone knows Americans are insane. Did you know Colorado has entire stores dedicated to hot sauce? And they even have fast food restaurants with drive-throughs—massive burgers and french fries—to eat in their cars. Plus, some guy named Root mixed ice cream and beer and called it . . . oh yeah, a Root Beer Float. No one in their right mind would mix ice cream and beer together. Who does that?”
“Right!” Mia laughed. “You’ve certainly convinced me that you’re not thinking about her at all.”
Backing away from the dock, Leif wondered if Ella enjoyed hot sauce and drive-through restaurants. There was nothing in Lyng?r that could compete with that.
· · ·
Fifteen minutes later, Leif tied up at a cleat drilled into the granite shore on Sand?ya, another auto-free island just outside of Lyng?r.
Nautical white clapboard cottages hugged the shore, which was covered in heather.
Terns soared above glazed tile roofs, and red, white, and blue Norwegian flags billowed from flagpoles.
Approximately a hundred locals lived on Sand?ya, and thousands of vacationers visited there over the summer.
Besides a brilliant potter who sold his ceramics at galleries on the southern coast, the only businesses on this island were a mini-mart with limited hours, a small shack that sold ice cream and hot dogs, and the Propeller, a two-story red cabin that was a government-owned community center where Leif and Mia had thrown dozens of parties.
As the two of them unloaded party supplies, the sound of a familiar marine engine came into range. They waited for Erik to dock his cruiser, and then the three of them carried the food and beer from the dock to the algae-spotted rocks that fronted the Propeller.
Leif unlocked the door, and Mia piped up. “The last I counted, sixty-four people are coming tonight.”
“Not everyone chipped in for the food,” Erik said with a scowl. “I’m tempted to drag them to an island and leave them there. It’s going to be cold and wet tonight.”
Mia scoffed while Leif laughed. He flicked on the light to reveal reindeer hides spread out on the waxed floors.
A whale mosaic made of cracked propellers and sea glass covered the rear wall.
Leif had created it, collecting the glass and propellers from numerous beaches and boatyards, in a tribute to the club’s name.
The cracked propellers were a reminder that the sea demanded respect.
Near the fireplace, Mia uncorked a bottle of cabernet and poured each of them a glass.
Leif set his bags on the long table beneath the mosaic and unpacked the food: smoked salmon, potato salad, fish cakes, elk meatballs, and lingonberry sauce.
As he arranged the dishes, Erik sidled up next to him, reached for the dill-seasoned cod cakes, and bit into a golden patty.
“Did you happen to bring that garlic aioli sauce that I asked you to please make for the cured salmon?” Erik asked.
“Garlic aioli? Um, no, because everyone knows that the only proper sauce to serve with gravlax is mustard dill sauce!” Leif looked scandalized.
Mia and Erik rolled their eyes at each other. “The world won’t go spinning if you break tradition,” Mia teased Leif as she set a glass of wine on the table in front of him.
“Never!” Leif laughed good-naturedly and skewered a meatball with his pocketknife. He wondered if Ella ate meat. She seemed like a tree-hugger type who might not.
Erik grabbed another patty. “Delicious. You’ll make someone a fine fishwife someday,” he joked.
· · ·
The door opened. Cigarillo smoke with a spicy clove scent announced Inger’s arrival. Besides being Mia’s friend, Inger was also Erik’s niece. Being the same age as Leif, she was as close to a sister as he could imagine.
“What a strange day—I need a drink! But I’m OK! Everything’s fine,” Inger announced as she pulled a face. She gave Erik, Mia, and Leif each a peck on the cheek.
“You were supposed to come early and help,” Mia lightly scolded as she handed her a glass of wine.
“I had to take care of something.” Inger’s gaze slid to the window that overlooked the white-capped waters, and she pursed her lips before stepping to the food table as if to put an end to the conversation.
The door banged open. Leif raised his glass to Inger’s boyfriend, Axel, who loved making an entrance. Axel smiled, perfect teeth flashing against olive skin. He looked like a model in a magazine ad.
“Hey babe,” Axel said. He kissed Inger on the mouth, clapped Leif on the back, and handed Erik two hundred kroner.
“To shave a little off my poker debt,” he said to Erik. Axel was unlucky at cards, an all-or-nothing type of guy known for his empty pockets. Leif liked him; anyone who could live with Inger and her short fuse had his respect.
Leif placed folding chairs around the low coffee table as Mia lit the votive candles on the sills and hearth.
“Hey Leif,” Erik warned in a low voice, “Charlotte, six o’clock.”
Leif glanced behind him to see Charlotte enter. She was curvy with long caramel-colored hair. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Hiya,” Leif greeted her sheepishly. He’d brought her to the Lyng?r summer party routinely for more than a decade.
He knew she’d be disappointed that he hadn’t included her in his plans this time.
It crossed his mind that gossip raged with hurricane speed around the island, and she might’ve already heard about Ella somehow.
But what did it matter—he hadn’t done anything, and there was nothing to gossip about.
Charlotte greeted everyone except Leif with a kiss on both cheeks. To him, she mouthed the word meanie. He deserved it, but he pretended not to notice and filled a bowl with potato chips. He wondered if Ella was back home now; maybe he should’ve waited a bit longer for her to return.
Inger sat down on the sofa and looked at Leif. “You best tell Charlotte about Ella.” She let out a catty laugh.
“Tell her what? That I offered to give Ella a lift here? So?”
“But you were supposed to bring Charlotte tonight. Why would you ditch her for a tourist?” Erik said and shifted in his seat.
“Charlotte couldn’t care less—and Inger, don’t look so skeptical! How many times do I have to explain it? Charlotte and I are friends, that’s it. She’s not interested in taking it any further either. It works for both of us.”
Charlotte approached and sat down between Inger and Erik. “Where’s that summer girl? I heard Inger invited her.”
“Ella stood Leif up,” Inger said with a smirk.
“Cut it out—that’s not even true.” Leif gave Inger a hard stare and tossed back his wine.
Axel chimed in. “I dunno, Ella sounds like a strange one. Why not fish in your own pond, huh?” Leaning over the coffee table, he gave Inger a quick kiss on the lips.
“She’s no friend of mine.” Inger lit another cigarillo. “She drank my scotch! She admitted it when I met her on Mia’s dock.”
“Oh, come on. You left it in the house, so you can’t blame her. What did you think she was going to do? For all she knew, a renter forgot it.” Mia settled back in her seat, rested her feet on the table, and added, “Ella’s one of those people you can’t help but like.”
“What about my garden?” Inger huffed. “I asked Ella if I could keep it, and she told me that she needed to think about it. What’s her problem—why can’t she just let me garden there? I need rhubarb for my wine. Now what am I going to do?”