The Wooden Chair (21 page)

A gentle smile brightened his face. “To keep it short, I’ve found an ophthalmologist who’s willing to operate on your eye.”

She stared at him, unsure how to react, suspicious this was some kind of joke. “Come now! We both know the damage to the optic nerve can’t be repaired. What’s the point in undergoing another operation? I’m not at all sure I want to do it.”

“Listen to me, princess. I’ve spoken to Doctor von Burg in Vienna. She comes highly recommended by colleagues both in the United States and here in Finland. I’ve been corresponding with her about you. She’s read your file.” Grandpa put his hand under Leini’s chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re right, it’s impossible to restore sight to your damaged eye.”

“Then what’s the point?” She averted her eyes. After her conversation with him last night, she’d let herself feel a faint light of hope. Now disappointment was like acid in her mouth, throat clogged from sadness.

“The point is that Doctor von Burg can straighten your eye through surgery. It will be parallel with the other, so it works in unison with the other. Think of it as cosmetic.”

Before he could continue, she slipped her hand in his. “That’s exactly what Mira said when the operation went wrong—that I should have cosmetic surgery later.” She pulled down the corners of her mouth in distaste.

“So what? Mira was right.” He twined his fingers in hers. “It’s no reason not to go ahead.”

“That’s not why I hesitate.” Briefly, she hid face in hands. “To be honest, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, princess—of course you are after the ordeal you went through. In the years since, the technology has improved a lot. Do you think I would suggest this if there was the slightest risk for you?”

She made an effort to smile. “No, of course not.”

Grandpa’s smile lit up his face. “The operation and continued exercises will keep the eye straight. They’ll teach you to apply makeup to camouflage any minor differences, if any remain. The main thing is your eyes will no longer confuse anybody. An incident like the one last night won’t happen again.”

Leini stared through the window at the drifting clouds.

“No, Leini, look at me. Never let anybody embarrass you about your eyes.” He caressed her cheek. “Dr. von Burg is very busy, in great demand. I took upon me to make a tentative appointment for June 10. School will be out by then. I thought we’d leave a few days earlier, take in the sights, go to a concert. The
Wiener Philharmoniker
has a few good ones on their program. Does that tempt you?”

“Sounds wonderful, Grandpa. You know I can never resist a concert.” She thought for a moment. “Okay, let’s decide to go. I’ll keep my appointment with Doctor von Burg as long as it’s understood I’m not committing myself yet. I’ll listen to what she has to say. I have to understand what’s at stake and what I stand to gain, or lose, from the procedure. Then I’ll decide.”

Grandpa stood. “Agreed, Leini. I’ll make the arrangements. Let’s leave on the fifth.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “It should give us enough time to have some fun.”

“How did you find this doctor?”

“Ever since your surgery, I’ve been in correspondence with one specialist or another. Outwardly your eye will seem normal. Isn’t it reason enough to go through with this?”

Unable to make up her mind, Leini shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Because Grandpa had gone to so much trouble, she would keep the appointment. That was all she dared commit to now.

* * *

After she saw Grandpa to the door, Leini returned to her rooms, sat deep in thought, oblivious of the sunrays on her neck. His last words echoed in her mind. Her eyes would seem normal, a good reason to submit to surgery. It sounded much like Mira’s argument, which had made Leini agree to undergo the procedure in the first place.

She shivered, goose bumps dotting her skin.

Samy knocked and stuck his head in the door.

“Lunch, Leini.”

The thought of food almost made her gag. “Thanks. I don’t want any.”

In the afternoon, she lay on the couch, reading an Edna St. Vincent Millay poem, mesmerized by the beautiful words and cadence:

“Time does not bring relief; you have all lied.

“Who told me time would ease me of my pain!”

The door crashed against the wall, startling her.

Mira took a wobbly step across the threshold, a cigarette between her fingers, the gray smoke swirling. Her red lips were pulled to a weak smile.

Before Leini could stand, Mira crossed the floor and sat in the chair next to her. She offered her a cigarette from the pack she always carried with her.

Leini shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Eyebrows raised, Mira studied her. “Huh? Don’t you smoke?”

“I do, on occasion, but I don’t like the smoke in my rooms. It bothers my eyes.”

Not finding an ashtray, Mira quashed the cigarette stub on a plate that held one of the Easter cactus plants on the windowsill.

“You’re going to Vienna, I heard.”

Definitely no secrets in this family where I’m concerned. It’s like living in a fishbowl.
She gave Mira a quick glance to gauge her mood.

“I’m going with Grandpa. To consult with an ophthalmologist.”

“Good. What do you say we go shopping together before you leave, make sure you have something nice to wear?”

Leini thought quickly. If she refused, she’d be sure to antagonize Mira. She wanted to avoid it. After the emotional upheaval because of Mark, tired from her conversation with Papi in the middle of the night and Grandpa’s early morning news, she needed some quiet time to herself. But wanting peace at any price, she replied, “It’s kind of you, Mira. Let’s do that.”

I hope this isn’t a trap. What is she up to? We’ve never gone shopping before. Mira always buys my clothes.

Mira gripped Leini’s hand in her own, dry and cold. “Let’s plan to go on Tuesday morning. I’d like to buy you something pretty for the evening. A cocktail dress would be nice.” She let go of Leini’s hand.

Leini nodded. “If we’re through with shopping early, maybe we’ll have lunch downtown. My treat.”

Mira shrugged. “Let’s see about that. Shopping’s our first priority.” She stood. By the door she turned. “This is going to be fun. A real mother-daughter outing. Aren’t you excited?”

I’m terrified.
“Sure, I’m excited.”

On Tuesday, they left home early. On their way downtown, Mira sat in the tram, legs crossed, not uttering a word.

“We’re lucky the weather is so fantastic,” Leini said, hoping to draw her out while she worried that this was the beginning of yet another disastrous moment in their relationship. She wished she’d not agreed to the shopping.
I should have asked Mira for the money instead.

Mira took Leini to one of the more exclusive boutiques in ladies’ wear, encouraged her to try dress after dress, discarding them all as either two childlike or too sophisticated. Then Leini saw a dress in a heavy jacquard weave, in cream and aquamarine. As she pulled it over her head in the fitting room, the dress whispered into place. After the saleslady zipped it in the back, Leini stared at her image in the mirror. The strapless dress accentuated her neck and straight shoulders. It enhanced her high bust and narrow waist as it fit smoothly over hips and ended just below the knees to reveal her long legs. In the showroom, she turned around to model for Mira.

“The dress is lovely. You look very nice. If you like it, we’ll take it.”

“I love it. Thank you, Mira.” Spontaneously, out of joy and gratitude she buzzed Mira on the cheek and was rewarded with a rare smile.

“It’s a little bare. You need a shawl of some kind. Would you like to borrow my mink stole?”

Way too rich for my taste
. “Thank you for offering. The concert Grandpa is taking me to in Vienna is on a weeknight. I’d be overdressed in a mink stole.” She settled on a cream-colored wrap of some gossamer fabric.

In a shoe shop further down the street, Leini bought a pair of high-heeled Italian pumps the same color as the wrap. Content with her purchases, she finally dared to relaxed, glad for their pleasant time together.

“Now, Mira, let me take you to lunch. I know this perfect place where a violinist circulates among the tables, the lighting isn’t too bright, the food delicious. What do you say?”

“I don’t think so.” Mira eyed her watch. “It’s pretty late. I need to rush to the bank.”

Leini shrugged. She more or less expected Mira would turn her down. Afraid to eat, always watching her weight.

* * *

Leini’s first impression of Vienna was of a vast city drenched in a monotonous drizzle and fog. Mid-afternoon the cab from the airport deposited her and Grandpa at
Hotel im Palais Schwarzenberg
, an eighteenth-century baroque palace close to shopping and entertainment. Sheltered from the rain by the doorman’s umbrella, Leini stepped from the cab, only to land in ankle-deep water.

“Careful, Grandpa, these streets are mined.” She chuckled. “I thought the weather was this bad only in Helsinki.”

The suite Leini shared with Grandpa was spacious, the furniture a blend of contemporary and old. On the plane, she’d struggled with sleepiness, intensified now by the gloomy sky. Her day had started in Helsinki at six in the morning to catch the flight to Vienna with a stop in Copenhagen. She longed to put her head on the plump feather pillow, to snuggle under the eiderdown.

By the window, she stared at the vast gardens spread before her, hazy in the rain. Her mood fit the weather; she was filled with sadness combined with discontentment.
I don’t want to be here in Vienna with an eye operation looming. Fact is, I don’t want to be in my life.

She dug nails into the palms of her hands to keep from crying.
Mira would say any girl in my place would be delighted to be in Vienna in this beautiful hotel.
She shuddered.
I’m not any girl, I’m me.

She was relieved when the phone rang to distract the melancholic wanderings of her mind.

“This is Grandpa.”

Leini smiled that he should phone from his room next to hers.
Maybe he’s resting, doesn’t want to get up.
With a little pinch in her heart she was reminded he wasn’t getting any younger.

“Shall we meet in the café downstairs in half an hour for tea? If you’re ready, that is.”

“I’ll be ready, Grandpa. The weather is awful, so the hotel café sounds good.”

His low grunt over the line reached her. “Half an hour.” And he hung up.

Grandpa was comfortably seated in a high-backed armchair, studying the menu. Leini leaned to peck him on the cheek, inhaling the peppery scent in his cologne. He glanced at her as she sank into the soft cushions of the wingback chair.

When the waiter came to take their order, Leini asked for a coffee. “Black, no sugar.”

Grandpa pointed at the menu. “I’m going to have one of those cream puffs. Very fattening, but the Viennese pastry is delicious. You sure I can’t tempt you to have a piece of chocolate torte?”

She shook her head, unable to alleviate the sadness that sat in her stomach like yesterday’s undigested food.

After the waiter brought their order, Leini watched as Grandpa stirred a lump of sugar and a dash of cream in his coffee. Raising the cream puff on its plate to eye level, he studied it, a twinkle in his eye. Seeing her observe him, he held the plate to her.

“Care for a taste?”

She smiled. To please him, she dipped her fork in the cream. “Just a little bite.”

Finishing the pasty, he set the plate on the table. “Are you looking forward to tonight’s concert?”

“Oh yes, very much. I’ve heard Mozart’s
Concerto for Clarinet
once on the radio. I can’t wait to experience it live.”

* * *

In his bedroom, Grandpa straightened his bow tie and smoothed the lapels of his dark suit. A knock, and he turned to open the door to the connecting living room.

“Right on time, my princess.” He smiled, admiring his granddaughter, this young woman, who stood against the backdrop of a space filled with light.
My little Leini!
She’s grown up so fast. Seems only yesterday she was a skinny little girl, all arms and legs, always close to laughter or tears.

He’d seen some beautiful women in his day, but something about Leini was delightful. She wasn’t a beauty in the true sense of the word, but he recognized something regal in the way she carried herself. The aquamarine and white in her dress accentuated the natural warm color of her complexion. She reminded him of Britta as a young woman when he first met her all those years ago.

He handed her a flute of champagne. “You look lovely.”

Blushing, she bowed her head. “Thank you, Grandpa. You look very handsome.” She raised her glass. “What a nice idea—champagne before the concert.”

He touched his flute to hers. “To my princess!”

“To my Grandpa.” She took a sip, then another, softly smacking tongue against palate.

He preceded her to the brocade-covered sofa.
“What a pretty dress you’re wearing,”

“I’m glad you like it. Courtesy of Mira.”

He raised his eyebrows, head tilted to the side. “I didn’t know she bought you things. I figured she gives you money and leaves you to shop on your own.”

“She often buys clothes for me, to surprise me, I guess. I’d prefer she gave me the money, our tastes are so different.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she added, “Some of the things she brings home are…quite awful.”

“What do you do with the clothes? Exchange them?”

“No, I keep whatever it is. I even wear it occasionally, to keep the peace. I suppose she means well.” She sighed. “I sometimes feel like screaming at her to stop buying me all these things. That I’d much rather she spent some time with me. Do things with me, like going to the movies, out for a walk or just listen to music with me like Papi does.”

The catch in her voice didn’t escape him. She quickly turned her head, but not before he noticed her eyes glitter with moisture.

In the past, he tried to persuade Robert to leave Mira. More than once, but to no avail. He knew his son wasn’t blind to her faults—more than likely Robert was too scared to leave her. Mira’s behavior toward Leini was abominable. Over the years, he tried his best to alleviate Leini’s situation, with little success. Guilt ate at him that he couldn’t do more for this child he loved so much. On the few occasions he’d argued with Mira about her behavior toward Leini, he regretted it. In her manipulative ways, Mira made it impossible for him to see his granddaughter, sometimes for lengthy periods of time. In the end, he refrained from expressing his outrage so he could be in close contact with Leini. This way, he figured, he was in a better position to protect her.