Chapter 22 #2
A loud “Hallooo!” drew their attention to a blazing campfire where a man waved a bottle over his head. “Get over here, Leif, you big dolt! Have a drink.”
Leif raised his hand in greeting. “Be right there.”
The man smiled, perfect teeth flashing against olive skin, and gave Leif a thumbs-up.
“That’s Axel, Inger’s boyfriend. He’s a piece of work.” He rested his hand on Ella’s back. “Well, ready to meet everyone?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She laughed and walked with him to the heart of the gathering.
Wine, beer, and guitars lay on blankets spread out on the moss-matted rocks.
They were a tall, fit-looking group as they gathered around small cooking fires.
Two stunning big-boned women with long, blond braids skewered fish using green sapling branches.
A muscular, bearded man arranged stones in a circle to build another campfire.
Ella itched to take photographs of these modern-day Vikings, but thought she’d better wait.
Right now, it felt like they were all staring at her and Leif.
A dozen corked champagne bottles and stacks of plastic cups sat on a rock shelf, along with Inger’s birthday cake. Approaching Inger, Ella greeted her cheerfully and handed her the lemons and candles.
“You found pink candles—fantastic. Thanks!” Inger laid the candles and lemons next to the cake. “Lemons are for the seafood,” she added.
“Glad I could help. Happy birthday.” She gave Inger the batik jewelry bag that contained her gift. Besides making the bracelet inside, she’d made the bag too, out of the skirt that had been ripped when she was stranded at G?sholmen.
Inger turned the bag over in her hands, examining it thoroughly.
Here we go again, Ella thought, and she forced a grin. “It’s just a little something I made. Hope you like it.”
“It’s colorful, like you.” Inger’s gaze traveled over Ella’s cowboy hat, flowy dress, and fuchsia tights. “Colorful,” she repeated with a hint of amusement in her eyes. She placed the bag on the rock shelf.
“Open it,” Leif said. “Let’s see what it is.”
Inger slid the present from the bag. “Jewelry?”
“A boating knot bracelet,” Ella said. “The knot is used for tying lines, reef points—”
“Yeah, I know what a boating knot is.” She held up the bracelet, and her mood defrosted as she studied it. “Clever.”
Leif cut in. “You used the book I gave you, didn’t you?” His dimples deepened.
“I’ve used that knot before to make jewelry back in Boulder. But I didn’t realize it was also a boating knot until I studied your book. It’s been very helpful,” she said, and smiled up at him.
“Time to start grilling,” Inger announced.
She returned the bracelet to the jewelry pouch and tossed it on the rock shelf.
This wasn’t lost on Ella, but if Inger couldn’t see the humor behind it, that was her problem.
With any luck, the amethyst beads woven into the bracelet would work their magic. Negative energy be gone.
Axel joined them, kissed Inger on the cheek, and then extended his hand to Ella. “Axel,” he said.
“Ella. Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. Tall with thick lashes, he was so handsome he was pretty.
Axel tapped Leif on the arm and pointed at a boat in the water just offshore.
Erik was rowing while another man was clearly bailing water.
“Erik could use our help. He decided to donate his old wooden rowboat to future bonfires!” The boat was headed toward the island bank, with its razor-sharp barnacles and rushing waves.
“Oh wow,” said Leif.
“What made him think he could make it to shore with cracks in the hull? Well, I guess that’s what we’re here for,” Axel said. He and Leif laughed until Axel wiped tears from his eyes.
“Won’t they get hurt?” Ella couldn’t watch and sought comfort in the beauty of the low-flying seabirds.
“Nope,” Axel said. “Not those two salty old codgers.” He swigged from his flask. “Cognac,” he said to Ella and offered it to her. She took a swallow.
“Erik should buy a fiberglass boat,” Inger said. “It’s more practical.”
“Are you kidding? Plastic boats have no souls,” Leif growled. He whispered to Ella, “We won’t be long. We need to save those lunkheads from themselves.”
“I’m fine,” she smiled at Leif. But the thought of him hauling a boat from that rough sea and across those slick, barnacle-covered rocks had her stomach in knots. She shivered.
“I brought beer, wine, and sodas. They’re in my bag. Help yourself,” Leif said and kissed her cheek.
“I will.” She was itching to pass around the photograph and ask if anyone knew anything about her family.
Dozens of partygoers hung out around several small campfires.
Near them, a man basted liquid onto a whole lamb he was roasting on a spit.
He had golden-brown hair that reminded her of Charlotte’s.
Ella scanned the crowd for her and realized that running into Charlotte would only be awkward if she let it be.
“Want to grab a beer?” Mia approached with a smile.
“I would love that! Hey, have you heard any more from your cousin?”
“Yup. Now it seems that four families are interested in your property, so she’s going to organize an open house. She’ll get back to us on the date.”
“That’s great news.” Ella grinned, and for an instant she felt happy.
“I want to stay long enough to make sure the cottage sale goes smoothly, but I do have to get back home . . . I mean, I hate to ask, but are you sure she can get it all done . . . you know, quickly?” She laughed shakily as the stress of all her commitments squeezed her lungs.
“Everything will work out,” Mia patted Ella’s arm gently.
“My cousin is extremely motivated. She needs the commission to send her genius daughter to a private school in Switzerland, so believe me, she’ll get your cottage sold ASAP.
You probably won’t even need to be here—she can fax you the paperwork to sign, and I could oversee the cottage until it sells.
You can call me anytime to see how it’s going. ”
“Amazing, that would be a lifesaver! Let me think about it and maybe talk to your cousin myself, just to make sure. Thank you, Mia!”
Mia plucked two beers from Leif’s cooler and handed one to Ella. She picked up the jewelry bag that Ella had given to Inger and touched the little bird stitched on it. “It’s so cute, and I love batik.”
“Open it—it’s a birthday present I made for Inger but . . . I’m not sure she liked it.”
Mia pulled out the bracelet. “You made this? It’s beautiful. I love it. I think I’ll borrow it, maybe for keeps.”
“Go for it,” Ella said, and they laughed. At least someone would appreciate it.
Mia wrapped the bracelet around her wrist. “Don’t let Inger bother you. She feeds on drama and loves to stir the pot. But we cut her slack.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, Inger can be tough, but she’s soft on the inside—and loyal as hell.” Mia sipped her beer. “In school I was bullied, but Inger stood up for me and made one thing clear: If anyone messed with me, they had to deal with her. And no one wanted to deal with Inger.”
Ella wasn’t surprised by that last statement, but imagining Inger standing up for anyone but herself was a new thought.
Mia laughed and continued. “Inger, Leif, Erik, and I would do anything for each other. We’re family. Except for Inger and Erik, none of us are related by blood, but that doesn’t matter. We all know we can count on and trust each other, no matter what. And we love each other like crazy.”
“I like that,” Ella said. She wouldn’t mind having a family of her own making.
She ran through a list of whom she might choose .
. . Petal? She was the closest thing Ella had to a sister, but she already had seven siblings and a full calendar.
Ella had some close acquaintances among the vendors at the weekend market, like some of the potters and the beekeeper, but these people were a long way from being family.
Ella envied Mia, Leif, and the others who had deep roots in Lyng?r.
Even though she’d lived in Boulder since she was an infant, she still felt lonely and rootless, and was counting on the clothing shop to anchor her.
She scratched at the wet label on her beer, and peeled it off the bottle.
She was surprised at how much she adored her cottage that smelled of mittens warming over a fire, and the thought occurred to her: Could she possibly stay?
But staying here would mean abandoning her dream store.
And would she fit in any better here than she did in Boulder?
Where could she sell her art? She didn’t have the answers—she probably hadn’t even thought of all the questions—but she had a deep sense that she didn’t know where home was, or where she belonged.
These thoughts were interrupted when Inger marched past, barking orders and directing Leif, Axel, and two women as they hauled Erik’s boat around a kettle of boiled crayfish.
They dumped the boat on the ground near the bonfire, which was being built from wooden crates, driftwood, a banged-up dresser, and a three-legged desk.
She imagined the orange-red flames and sparks against the starry sky.
She would make sure to have her picture taken with Leif as the bonfire blazed behind them.
Ella surveyed the crowd, which was made up entirely of people who looked to be in their early twenties to mid-thirties. Her heart sank.
“Where’s Erik?” she asked Mia.
“He’s probably taking a breather after getting the boat to shore.”
“And his friend?”
“Oskar. Oh, he’s fine too, but why?”
“I want to show them the photograph to see if they know my mom.”
“Which picture?” Mia asked.
“You’ve already seen it, at your shop. Remember?”
“Mind if I take another look?”
“Sure, yeah, look all you like.” She slid the photograph from her notebook.
Mia’s eyes skimmed over each side of the picture, and she shook her head. “Nope, nothing rings a bell.”