Chapter 22
At ten o’clock the next morning, Ella set off to search for stories about her family.
The briny breeze ruffled the birch leaves as she rounded a curve in the path that cut through granite hills on Lyng?rsida Island.
She knocked on several doors, but no one appeared to be home, and the village still seemed empty.
She was disappointed, but all was not lost, she told herself.
Leif had suggested that she talk to the sailmakers who’d just returned from a two-week vacation and would likely be home today.
The night before, Leif had consoled her, saying, “No worries if they can’t tell you anything.
I’ll take you around Lyng?r so you can meet some more people before you leave.
” His kindness and support touched her. They’d talked for hours over dinner, joking and laughing as they shared stories about their lives.
They’d shared long, deep kisses too. Even though she was still trying to put his kiss with Charlotte completely behind her, and even though it had put her off from sleeping with him last night, Ella had to admit she loved being with Leif.
By the time he left, she was so frustrated that she ate the rest of the cake she bought for them and then did guilt yoga until she regained some perspective.
Despite her determination to not get attached, she couldn’t see the harm in getting to know him better while she was in Norway. She wouldn’t let herself get carried away though, she told herself. He was just a fling. A sexy, sensitive, thoughtful fling. Nothing more.
Ella walked past shuttered clapboard cottages toward the sailmakers’ residence and heard music coming from somewhere on their property; it was A-ha’s “Take On Me” soaring from the backyard.
Three flaxen-haired kids, all under the age of ten, crouched on the dock at the water’s edge, scooping small crabs with minnow nets and dumping them into plastic pails.
Next to them, two rugged men with thick, tousled hair and dark tans sipped port wine at a two-seater table. They looked like father and son.
“Hi there!” Ella called out. Everyone swiveled to greet her, and five pairs of ocean-blue eyes gave her the once-over. She flashed her friendliest smile, made sure to mention Leif’s name, and explained why she’d wandered onto their property without an invitation.
The older man, Magnus, who looked about Mormor’s age, shook his head. “No, I was in the navy and deployed on a ship for most of my career. I returned home four years ago to take over the family sailmaking business from my father, who’s unwell. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
His son, Roar, offered that he was too young to remember anything from that time. Ella politely asked if she could speak to Magnus’s father, to ask what he remembered.
Both men burst out laughing. They gestured at an ancient-looking man with sunken cheeks and tufts of silver hair, dozing in a lounge chair on the far side of the yard.
“Dementia,” Roar said sadly. He gave Ella a one-shouldered shrug and frowned. “Sometimes he remembers. But much of the time he hallucinates, or remembers wrong, or both. Last night he swore he saw forest fairies in his bedroom.”
Ella persisted as politely as she knew how, and Magnus snorted and wished her luck. Roar shouted at his grandfather in Norwegian, “Wake up, Truls, you sleepy old fart!”
His grandfather’s lids fluttered open, and he blinked in the harsh sunlight. His eyes widened at Ella, like he’d seen a ghost. “Where’ve you been hiding all these years?” he sputtered in confusion.
“What do you mean?” Ella said.
“Stop playing games, young lady!” Truls shouted at Ella. “Why did you have to disappear?”
Truls started to cry and began rambling about the forest fairies who played tricks on him in the night. He pointed at Ella. “You, be careful, or you’ll disappear just like her!”
The smallest of the children skipped over to him and tipped a pail full of water and crabs onto Truls’s lap. The man leaped from his chair, bellowing angrily and pumping his fists to the heavens.
“Deceit! Just like that fairy-tale witch, Huldra! She’ll lead you to temptation and danger, that one will . . . before you know it, she’ll have disappeared, never to return.” He began to wail, loudly enough that it echoed off the water.
Roar ran to his grandfather and silenced him with several gruff words before leading him indoors. Magnus suggested that Ella ask someone else if she had any other questions. He wished her a good day, and Ella understood that she was dismissed.
· · ·
Back at Ringpynten, Ella polished Hilda’s urn on the windowsill and watched the light sparkle on it in swirls of electric pink.
“Mormor. That good-looking boatbuilder I told you about is taking me to a bonfire tonight. Someone there might know where you put Sara to rest. Maybe I’ll put you there too.”
Ella once again felt a pang of sorrow. She had always keenly felt the absence of her mother, but over the last week in Lyng?r, her grief had mushroomed for both Sara and Mormor. Why did they both have to leave her alone . . . completely and truly alone?
Ella would have given anything for the chance to patch things up and tell Mormor how much she loved her.
By coming here, Ella was able to realize how heart-wrenching Sara’s absence must have been for Mormor.
Ella felt closer to them here; was that why Mormor had fled her homeland, and why she had never been able to tell Ella the truth about Sara and all the other secrets?
The sewing machine and sketchbook had shown Ella how much she’d taken after Sara.
Ella realized that she probably reminded Mormor of all that she’d lost. Ella now wondered if her grandma’s criticism and meanness were born out of fear of losing Ella too.
Mormor ultimately wanted what she thought was best for Ella, but perhaps she couldn’t show it any other way besides discouraging Ella’s creativity and stoking her fears about water.
Ella sat down and moved the rocking chair closer to the table covered with fashion sketches, colored pencils, and her notebook.
In contrast to these weighty thoughts, she scribbled words for a song that had been swirling around her head: Blue Boy, blue summer dreams, desire, kiss me.
She’d incorporate it somehow with a future line that she’d already named the Leif Collection.
Then her thoughts wandered to a birthday gift for Inger—she had already given her the cuckoo bird sketch, but she should probably bring a proper gift to her party.
Flipping through the nautical book Leif had given her, she stopped on a page with a diagram of a slipknot she’d tied plenty of times when she made rope jewelry, and it came to her: A boating knot bracelet was the perfect present for Inger.
She could tie the knot in her sleep and wondered now why it hadn’t occurred to her to use that same knot to secure the dinghy.
It would be a funny gift if nothing else, especially since Inger had snickered at Ella for using a bunny knot when they’d first met.
Ella gathered twine, tape, scissors, an empty cola bottle, and the beads that she’d bought in Tvedestrand.
She arranged the amethyst beads on the coffee table; the sparkly purple stones would make a stylish bracelet.
Plus, some people believed that amethyst warded off negative energy, and Inger had plenty of that.
Cutting a four-foot piece of twine, Ella taped one end to the bottle, winding the other in an X shape.
The bracelet turned out prettier than she’d imagined, and she knew that from then on, she would tie great boating knots, as secure as any local.
Perhaps she’d design a collection of jewelry using an array of colorful crystals, and give them names like Castaway or Knot Again.
· · ·
“So, this is Speken Island?” Ella smiled at Leif.
Her hand rested on his thigh as he worked the tiller, squeezing Skadi’s hull into a spot between two wooden skiffs.
“It looks peaceful, like a smaller version of G?sholmen. There’s more of that heather—I think I’ve fallen in love with those soft-purple blooms.”
“Just like G?sholmen, no one lives here. We can party all night and not disturb anyone.” Leif jammed the anchor into a crack in the quartz-speckled bank.
Ella counted seven boats at the shore. A dozen partygoers walked across the burnished rocks and around wind-twisted pines, sea grasses, and colorful wildflowers.
“Where’s the bonfire?”
“It’s on the other side. About a ten-minute walk.
Inger will light it closer to sundown. I wouldn’t risk tying up my boat near the bonfire, though—not even tonight, with decent weather.
The reefs, swells, and rocks chew up boats like a woodchipper.
” He settled the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder before grabbing the cooler.
“We’ll cook over campfires. I think the sailmaker’s son, Roar, might be here tonight. Did you happen to see them today?”
“Yes, but they didn’t know anything. Not really. Although the grandfather looked at me like he’d seen a ghost and mentioned that someone had disappeared. But they said he has dementia, and he was clearly confused.”
“Well, hopefully you’ll hear stories about Sara tonight.”
“I hope so,” Ella smiled. She reached for his hand, and he helped her from the boat and onto the rocks.
She walked with him across the island, toward the as-yet-unlit bonfire where Inger’s guests had gathered.
Small tents were grouped together, and an English springer spaniel chased his tail.
Ella stopped to scratch the dog’s ears, allowing it to give her wet kisses on her chin. She laughed and kept scratching.
“I’m going to adopt a dog and take it to work with me when I get back home. Have you ever had a dog?” she asked Leif.
“I love dogs. But I’m always on the go, and it’d be hard to fit one into my schedule.”