Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
My grandmother tilts her head, and I swear even in the dim light she has color on her cheeks. “You are handsome,” she says. “I’m glad that Laila has you.”
James freezes at the sound of my name. I blink, my heart hammering in my chest.
Did she really just say my name?
James’s head swivels toward me in surprise and then back to Helge.
“She is such a good soul, she has been through so much,” she says. “I wish I could tell her that.”
I’m not sure if my grandmother thinks James is her husband anymore. I know that it can bounce around like that and not match up. Even so, I take a step forward.
“Grandma?” I ask.
She turns her head to look at me. “There you are, Laila. Oh, what do you have with you?”
I break into the widest grin. “This? This is for you. It’s Christmas, Grandma. I had to get you a present.”
“A present?” she says, looking bashful. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Actually, I have two.”
I come over, and James gets out of the chair. He puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze, nodding to the door, to tell me he’s going to step outside.
I give him a grateful smile and sit down across from my grandmother, taking out Knut and handing him to her.
“Knut,” she says, and I laugh, so delighted she remembers his name. “Oh, he looks so handsome with his ribbons.”
“That’s for you,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t notice the tears in my eyes. “I want you to have him. He will keep you company while you’re here.”
She blinks, and for a moment I think I’ve lost her, her face going blank as she stares at him. My chest grows cold. I shouldn’t have mentioned the space around her.
But then she frowns and nods. “Of course. I will take good care of him.”
I sigh in relief and grin at her, putting the cake on the window ledge. “And in there is cloudberry cake.”
“Oh heavens,” she says, watching as I open the box to show her. “I haven’t had that in years.”
I have to force the smile on my face through that one. She doesn’t remember all the times I’ve brought it for her.
“It’s a special occasion,” I tell her, my voice shaking slightly. “And you deserve it.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she says. “Shall we give some to your grandfather?” She looks around the room, as if looking for James.
I hesitate. On one hand I could bring James back in here, but what if this time she doesn’t see him as Kolbjorn but as a stranger. I decide to play it safe. “He’ll be right back. He’s smoking a cigar outside. Why don’t you and I have some cake, okay?”
“Okay,” she says with a smile.
I bring the plastic forks out of the bag, and we dig into the cake with the polar bear on her lap.
This might be the best Christmas I’ve had in a very long time, and I’m eternally grateful to James for suggesting it. No, for actually making it happen. Had he not pushed me, arranged this, I wouldn’t be here now with my heart so impossibly full.
I have a piece of cake and watch my grandmother enjoy hers, crumbs falling down on top of Knut’s head, but she just brushes it off and laughs.
I laugh too, relishing the love, pushing the sadness of the season away, if just for tonight.
Fourteen
LAILA
“Listen, I just think playing Scrabble in Norwegian is highly unfair,” James says across from me.
“Don’t be a wimp,” Lady Jane says from beside him.
He looks at her aghast. “You don’t speak any more Norwegian than I do.”
“I know the swear words,” she says with a gleam in her eyes.
“Everyone knows the bloody swear words,” James points out. “Our boss is Magnus, after all.”
“Look, we’ll play in English,” I tell him. “The board is in English anyway. I guess I’ll just have the disadvantage.”
“Oh, come on,” James says at the same time that Lady Jane goes, “Phfffft.”
“Your English is better than mine,” he adds.
“We could always play Twister,” Lady Jane says, gesturing to the stack of board games hopefully.
“No,” James and I say in unison.
It’s the weekend after New Year’s, and things are quiet at the estate. With all the festive activities finally over, the three of us decided to stay in, play board games in the parlor, and drink all the bottles of champagne that didn’t get used. Ottar suggested putting them in the cellar, but sometimes that man doesn’t know fun unless it bites him in the ass. Then again, it could be a product of having to babysit Magnus every day. When you never know if your day will start (or end) with you jumping off a literal cliff, I suppose you’re allowed to be the fun police in the rest of your life.