The Wooden Chair (24 page)

“Welcome home, girl. Have you grown? You look taller.”

Leini smiled. “Thank you, Mira. It’s good to be home.” The acrid smell on Mira’s breath told its tale of her having a drink of booze before she left for the airport.
When she doesn’t reek of booze, she stinks of vomit. Papi knows she drinks and her problem with food. I wish he would do something, for her sake as much as his own.

In the car, Papi kept glancing at Leini through the rearview mirror, smiled at her when she caught him looking. At home she took her time unpacking. She showered and changed into comfortable slacks and a blouse, all the time excited about the moment when she would remove the sunglasses to reveal her eyes. At the door to the living room, she stopped to smile at Papi and Mira, Grandpa, Grandma Britta and Karl, their curious stares intent on her face. She scanned the room, looking at them all in turn.

“Where’s Samy?” she asked. “Isn’t he home?”

Mira shrugged. “He went to the movies with friends.”

“I tried to insist he stay at home. At least long enough to greet you.” Papi held palms up in a helpless gesture. “You know Samy.”

She shrugged, wishing Papi or Mira had insisted he’d be at home.
I’m his sister, he should at least give me five minutes of his time.

Leini sat on the couch, a ray of mellow evening sun slanting through the windows. Next to her, Mira sipped a drink of amber liquid. Leini cringed, detesting the smell of Scotch.

Leini cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. When they were all looking at her she brought her hand to touch the sunglasses, heart drumming fast, its beat an echo in her ears. “Everybody. Now’s the moment.”

With a slow movement she took off the sunglasses, but squeezed her eyes shut against the bright light. When she opened them again, she couldn’t help but laugh. They all sat on the edge of their chairs, leaning forward the better to study her. Papi hurried to Leini and pulled her to stand. With her face between his hands, he closely scrutinized her before he wrapped his arms around her. “This is remarkable. You have beautiful eyes, my Leini.”

Oh, my Papi!
Not, “The operation is a success.” Not, “Your eyes look good.” A wave of gratitude welled up in her that he knew to speak the right words. For the rest of her life she would remember,
“You have beautiful eyes.”

Grandma Britta blew her nose and touched the corner of a handkerchief to her eyes. “Come here, Leini.”

Feeling the broad smile on her lips, Leini stood. Grandma Britta gazed at her for a while, telltale wetness on her cheeks. Then she kissed Leini’s eyelids, first one, then the other. “Thank you, God.”

Karl grinned at her. “You look wonderful. I’ll have to fight for your attention among all those young men flocking at your feet.”

Leini’s laughter rang like a bell. “Karl, you’ll always be number one for me, and you know it.”

Next to Grandpa, Papi placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done everything for Leini.” His voice grew hoarse. “I know you’ve read and studied and corresponded with half the world.” He laughed low in his throat. “‘Thank you’ doesn’t begin to express my gratitude, Papa. But…thank you.”

Grandpa blew his nose. “Nonsense, Robert. I’ve done what every grandfather would do who loves his granddaughter the way I love Leini.”

Papi raised his hand as if to caress Grandpa’s cheek, but let it settle on his shoulder again.

“I agree with Papi. I’ve said it before, but I want to thank you again, Grandpa. There are no words to express how grateful I am. You’ve given me…everything.”

Seated next to Mira again, Leini glanced at her. “What do you say? Aren’t you pleased for me?”

Without even a glance at Leini, Mira plopped the empty glass on the coffee table. “Looks fine to me.”

* * *

Deeply engrossed in a mathematics problem, Leini twirled a strand of hair around her finger, creasing her brow in concentration. She let the pencil drop from inert fingers, sighed and stretched.
Math!
What a way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
A knock on the door and Papi stood by her desk, a scarf around his neck, overcoat on his arm.

He rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid I have bad news. Grandpa’s been taken to hospital.”

Her breath caught. For a brief instant the world swam in front of her eyes.

“I’m going to see him now. Thought you’d want to come with me.”

“Of course. Give me a second.” She ran a brush through her hair and grabbed her coat.

Papi pointed. “Are you going in your slippers? It’s cold. The rain has turned to sleet.”

Shaking her head, she pulled on a pair of knee-high leather boots. “I’m not thinking straight. Let’s go.”

In the car Papi turned the heat to maximum and drove slowly, carefully through the driving snow.

Leini half turned in her seat. “What happened? I mean, why is Grandpa in hospital?”

“His heart. Now stop fretting and let me concentrate on driving.”

At the hospital they asked directions to Grandpa’s room and found him in a half upright position, an oxygen mask covering mouth and nose, Grandma Britta sitting by the bed, her hand in one of his. Leini went cold with fright at the sight of his ashen face, even more frightened by the groans with each intake of air, each long pause before he exhaled.

Papi and Leini stood at the side of his bed, quiet so as not to disturb his sleep. They stayed only a short time. Before they left, Leini brushed her lips against Grandpa’s high forehead, cool and dry to the touch. She held a silent prayer in her heart for God not to take him from her yet, but if he was to suffer, then please let it be quick.

Papi draped an arm around Grandma Britta’s shoulders as they all left the room. “Don’t overdo it, Mamma. You need to get some rest.”

Next morning, nobody needed to tell Leini Grandpa had passed on. In keeping with tradition, a pair of tall white candles flickered in the living room, all paintings and pictures were swathed in cloth in sign of mourning. She sank into a chair, arms wrapped around her, rocking back and forth, tears streaming.

“Grandpa! Oh no, not Grandpa!”

* * *

A fine powdery snow covered the ground, the newly dug grave a gash in the earth. Leini stood between Papi and Mira. Grandma Britta leaned on Papi’s arm, a black veil covering her face, crying into her handkerchief as Papi recited the mourner’s prayer over his father. Behind Leini, Karl laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Leini squeezed eyes shut at the sound of dirt hitting the wooden coffin.
Grandpa must be so cold.
Mira slipped her arm under hers. Grateful, Leini pressed her wet cheek against hers. Shivering from cold and grief, she let the tears flow while the crowd of friends and relatives filed past to express their condolences. The funeral ceremony was short.
Too short for a man who’s lived a full life dedicated to serving God and helping others.

The crowd of mourners in their dark clothes filled the spacious community hall with muted talk and clatter of cutlery. Someone set a plate of sandwiches in front of Leini. Staring at it, she pushed the food to the side, instead taking a sip of lukewarm tea.

Grandma Britta caressed Leini’s hand. “You must eat something, child.”

Leini shook her head. “I can’t, Grandma. The smell of food makes me sick.”

Grandma sighed and squeezed her hand. “I know, my dove. It’s hard. I miss him, too.” She sighed. “He’s at peace with himself, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, Leini. Since the accident with your eye, Grandpa’s goal, his mission, was to find help for you. He often talked to me about it. If he couldn’t actually restore your sight, he said he would do anything to reduce the visible signs of your handicap. To have succeeded made him very happy. I know, because he told me so. The day you two returned from Vienna, he said he was ready to go whenever God called him—he’d fulfilled his promise to find help for you.”

Leini brushed at the wetness on her face and leaned her cheek against Grandma Britta’s.

“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered. “I’ll treasure knowing it.”

Chapter 25

Helsinki, May 1957

May 31. Graduation day!

In the schoolyard for the last time, her family and closest friends around her, Leini hugged an armful of roses from schoolmates and teachers. Grandma Britta looked handsome, a beautiful, bean-shaped diamond pendant twinkling on her breast. With an arm around Leini’s shoulders, Karl kissed her cheek. She tried to hug him, but couldn’t for all the flowers. Berit and Mr. Bergstrom handed her another bunch of roses.

“Well done, Leini honey,” Berit said. “We’re so proud of you.”

A single white rose appeared in front of her eyes. “You made it!”

She grinned. “Bo! How nice of you to come. Here, stick the rose in with the rest.”

“Congratulations. May I kiss you or are you still too young?” His pale-blue eyes sparkled with joy.

“Kiss me.” Raising her face, his lips touched hers in a brief kiss.

After their only date, Bo called several times, but she refused to talk to him, too embarrassed over the remarks his brother made about her wayward eye. Whenever they ran into each other, Bo was hearty and warm. They never dated again, weren’t even close, but nonetheless he was part of her small crowd.

Together with graduates from every high school in Helsinki, Leini’s class gathered at the cemetery to pay their respects at the soldiers’ monument, raised in memory of those fallen during the war. When they parted, each to go their separate ways, the foot of the monument was a carpet of roses in hues from white to scarlet to blood red.

Before leaving the cemetery, the Bauman family assembled at the civilian section. Flanked by Grandma Britta and Papi, Leini stood by Grandpa’s grave.

Leini handed Papi the few flowers she still held; then she bent low, placing a single blood-red rose on Grandpa’s grave.
Thank you, Grandpa. You would have been happy for me today. You always wanted the best for me.

* * *

On the street corner waiting for the traffic light to turn to green, Leini lifted her face to the warm sun. The graduation dinner and dance only last week seemed a distant memory as she now walked with slow steps to keep her lunch date with Papi. Entering Café Fazer, she spotted him seated on one of the couches in an intimate booth, made for privacy. Seated next to him, she kissed him on the cheek.

“Punctual as usual, my girl.” He nodded at the server hovering nearby.

After they placed their order, Leini lit a cigarette, taking a deep puff as she leaned against the back, trying to relax, but gave a mental nod to the nervousness churning inside.

Papi glanced at her. “It’s a treat to have lunch with you, but I suspect you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

Playing for time, she snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray, then slipped her hand in his. “I don’t quite know how to say this.” She took a sip from her glass of water and swirled the liquid around in her mouth against the dryness. “How do you feel about my going to Geneva to study?”

Facing her, he squeezed her hand. “To Geneva? Why Geneva?”

“I’ve sent away for documentation—the Geneva University has an excellent program in Psychology.” She grinned. “As you’re dead set against my becoming a writer, this is a good second choice.”

Papi broke off a piece of roll, buttered it while he kept looking at her. “Why leave Helsinki, Leini? You’re still so young. Our university has a good reputation. Why not study here? Why do you want to leave?”

Why, why, why?
After she instigated this lunch, she rehearsed in her mind what and how she would talk to Papi, knowing he would ask these questions. She moved her fingers in his hand.

“Papi, I have to leave; life with Mira is unbearable. I can’t live at home anymore. Please don’t keep me from leaving.” She blinked against the tears. “I’ll miss you so much, but I have to go, Papi. I have to!”

His eyes were misty as he patted her hand. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you at home. Most of all I regret I haven’t been able to protect you better. I tried, but I know my efforts weren’t enough.” A sigh, like a sob, escaped him. “It breaks my heart to see you go, but I understand. Let me get used to the idea of my little girl leaving, then we’ll talk about practicalities.”

Without them paying attention, the waitress placed a plate with an open-face sandwich in front of them.

Leini took a deep breath. “Why do you put up with Mira? Why don’t you leave her? With me gone, what’s keeping you stuck in this marriage? You could leave with Samy, have a goof life at last.”

Papi sighed, a sad sound that clutched at her heart. He shook his head. “We had a similar discussion before you went to Vienna. Remember?”

She remembered well the conversation. When they were through talking her heart ached for Papi, as it did now.

“I’m tired, Leini. I’m tired of fighting with her. I’m tired of her anger and mood swings, of her drinking. The lies. I’m just so weary.” He removed his glasses and passed a hand over his face as if he could brush away the troubles.

The question burned on her tongue. Maybe it wasn’t her place to ask, but she needed to understand what kept him locked to Mira. “Do you love her?”

A heavy sigh moved his chest. “I did, but her manipulating ways and anger have worn my love very thin.”

“All the more reason for you to leave. Please, Papi, you’re still young, not yet fifty. You could make a great life for yourself. You’d be free to do the things you like, meet the people you enjoy.”

He nodded, a sad little smile on his lips. “I know, Leini, but I can’t. I’m too worn out. The thought of battling through a divorce seems more than I have strength to bear.”

For an instant, she stared into the far distance, not sure how to say what was on her mind.
I’ve said this much, might as well spit it all out.
“If you can’t face going through a divorce, insist that Mira has to see a doctor for her drinking and starving.”

“If only it were as simple as giving her an ultimatum. I’ve often said her drinking is getting out of hand, that she’s ruining her health by not eating. Once I even went as far as making an appointment with a psychiatrist, but nothing came of it. Mira was furious, said I accused her of being insane. In fact, she turned it around so that I’m the one who
needs to see a psychiatrist as there’s nothing wrong with her. Everybody has a drink now and then, according to her.” He spread his hands, palms up.