The Wooden Chair (35 page)

“I hear searing anger. I see it in your clenched fists; your entire body is rigid. Your handicap is a daily reminder of the role Mira played. It’s time we started looking at the consequences you’re facing as a result of Mira’s behavior and your family’s passivity. We’re going to talk about this at length.”

The anger was choking her. She rotated her shoulders, stretched her back to get rid of the tension. “What’s the use of talking about it? It’s in the past. No amount of talking will return the sight to my eye.”

“No, nothing will change it.” Dr. Morgenthaler shifted in his chair. “I want to help you reconcile with what she did. When you reach that point, you’ll be free of the past. Your handicap won’t be a sore issue. This is about acceptance, Mrs. Gardet. When you come to accept it happened, you’ve gained a lot. You’ll be liberated when you forgive Mira—for everything.”

“What!”
She almost shouted the word.

He smiled. “You react the same way you did when we talked about this before Hannele was born. Forgiveness will set you free from Mira and from the past.” He stood and filled a glass with water from the pitcher on his desk. “Here, drink this.”

She drained the glass. “Will forgiveness make me forget everything she’s done? All the hurt, the pain, every slight? Will I stop missing the mother I never had?” She was almost sobbing.

He wrote in his notebook while her emotional storm raged like a frothing sea.

“What we experience in our childhood is imprinted on our brain. It’s etched in, programmed in your memory forever. Nothing can efface those memories.”

“Then what’s the use of this therapy?” Her throat was so clogged she had trouble speaking the words.

“Our work will help you find ways of bypassing the programming. The memories will always be there. At times a trigger will be strong enough to remind you of the past. You’ll know pain, but it will be short-lived. And I bet the nightmares will stop.”

She took a tissue from the box to dab at her eyes.

Dr. Morgenthaler looked at the clock on his desk. “My next patient is due. Stay in the reception hall for a while if you’re too upset to drive.” He saw her to the door. “I’m proud of you. You’re brave and strong.”

Chapter 36

Geneva, Early Fall 1962, Spring 1963

On one of her rare days off from work, Leini decided to take a leisurely drive in the country while Hannele had her afternoon nap in the baby seat. Enjoying the sun warm through the windshield, she was mellow; she recently learned she was expecting their second child, another spring baby.

“Hannele will be two years old when the baby comes…the perfect age difference,” she said to Bill as she gave him the news. She grinned. “At least we’ll get through the children’s diseases and diapers almost in one go.”

“I’m happy, sweetie. I love kids, and Hannele’s great, a real sunshine.”

Leini now traveled along narrow roads bordered by sycamores, their dense foliage and crowns entwined to create long green tunnels. Loving the small, quaint, somnolent villages, she admired the picturesque scenery; the well-swept streets, the old stone houses sparkling from cleanliness, petunias and begonias flaming in window boxes, the neat front yards. At the outskirts of one of the villages, Leini took a narrow lane bordered by golden corn fields. At first she thought the lane dead-ended until she discovered a side road, which eventually took her to an old farm.

The house was overgrown with vines, but the harmonious forms and the many French windows attracted her. Parking at the end of the lane, she sat for a while taking in the two-story building in a clump of birches, a few graceful poplars and a mature weeping willow. She left the car to approach the house with hesitant steps not to intrude on its inhabitants, knowing the Swiss were particular about privacy.

Leini knocked on a side door. No answer. Strolling along the terrace, she peered through a couple of windows. The building was empty, unfurnished. Returning to the main entrance, she happened on a FOR SALE sign with the name of a real estate agency and a phone number. Once she regained the car she jotted down both. A glance in the back seat reassured her Hannele still slept, peaceful and quiet.

The minute she returned home, Leini phoned the realtor and made an appointment to view the house the following day. In the kitchen, overseeing Hannele having her evening meal, Leini tried to steer her hand cramped around the spoon into her mouth.

“My pet, use your spoon. Here, see.”

Hannele giggled, but persisted on using her bare fist to cram mashed potatoes into her mouth, her aim more miss than hit. Leini grinned and made a face. At sixteen months Hannele was a strong-willed bundle of energy. After each meal their kitchen resembled a battle field.

Bill arrived home earlier than usual, only minutes after Leini finished her bath with Hannele. Carrying the baby on her hip, Leini met him in the hall, kissed him on the lips and followed close on his heels into the living room.

“Are we celebrating something?” he asked as she handed him a glass of chilled white wine.

“Cheers, darling,” she said, touching her glass of mineral water to his. “How’s your wine?”

He placed his glass on the table. “
Mmm
, perfect.” Holding Hannele on his lap, he showed her his pocket watch.

Bouncing on his knee, she wiggled and waved tubby arms in excitement. “Tick, tick.”

“Yes, tick, tick,” Bill said, bringing the clock close to her face and depressing the lock mechanism. The lid snapped open and tapped Hannele on the nose. As always, she shrieked with laughter.

He tickled her in the neck. “Whose little darling are you?”

Giggling, she took his face between her chubby hands. “Papa’s,” she said, trying to bite his nose.

Smiling, Leini followed the scene. So vivid was the memory of Grandpa playing the same game with her all those years ago she imagined she felt the lid hit her nose. With Hannele leaning against his chest, Bill gazed at her. “You’re up to something, Leini. What is it?”

She told him of the drive in the countryside. “I was just riding along with no particular goal. I happened on this wonderful old farmhouse, darling. It’s for sale, and we’ll go look at it tomorrow.”

“What! A farmhouse? Outside Geneva! Do you have any idea how much something like that costs? We would spend the rest of our lives paying only interest on the mortgage. Leini…”

“Bill, sweetie, calm down.” Leini wore her nicest summer dress in light cotton with swirls and irregular spots in tones of warm coral, fuchsia, and touches of light aquamarine. Her lips bore the hint of lipstick and she’d sprayed scent between her breasts. She sat on the armrest of his chair. “We’ll just take a look. It’s not a commitment.”

His groan was loud, but the next day they went to see the house. In fact, they spent the better part of the day in and around it.

“Look, Bill, this room is perfect for the children. When they grow up, they’ll each have their own room. The bathroom in between only needs a little modernizing. Not right now if it’s too expensive. Sometime in the future.” They stood in the second floor mezzanine while the agent granted them a few minutes of privacy. From her roomy handbag, she pulled papers scribbled with figures. “Look a these calculations, darling.”

Bill was red in the face, his domed forehead glistening from perspiration. “I’m telling you we can’t afford it. Even if I sold the sail boat and everything I own, we wouldn’t come up with the down payment.”

“Bill, please, just look at these figures. If you still feel we shouldn’t do it, I’ll agree. But first listen to this—when I turned eighteen, I came into my inheritance from Grandpa. It was a nice amount of money. Well invested, it’s become quite a lot of money in just a few years. It will cover the down payment and some of the repair work.” She gazed at him, eyes moist from tears she tried to stop from flowing. “I really love this house, and with some sacrifices I’m sure we can afford it.”

Velvety eyes half closed, Bill listened to her arguments. He made his own calculations, came to the same result as Leini, but still he hesitated.

“I want to think about it, not rush into anything.” With thumb and forefingers he massaged his temples, a sign he was disturbed.

After dinner that evening, he went over the figures again. “The house sure is nice, and the figures look good to me.”

Leini swiveled around to face him, dishrag in one hand, a dinner plate in the other. “Do you mean to say we’ll buy the house?”

When he nodded, a broad smile on his lips, she yipped, dropped rag and plate into the soapy dishwater. Arms around his neck, she laughed and sobbed. “Oh Bill, I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am. It means a lot to me to have our own house.”

* * *

Yigal was born to the budding of spring as the world was turning into a wonderland of tender hues of greens, vibrant yellow, violet blue and cherry pink. He was in as much a hurry to enter the world as Hannele before him.

In her private room at the clinic, Leini thought she was very much the princess Grandpa used to call her. She kept looking at her newborn son, in awe over his halo of curly blond hair, long limbs, big feet and slim hands. The serenity she experienced now was so different from the turmoil Mira caused after Hannele’s birth. Although Leini knew the rift between them couldn’t go on indefinitely, she appreciated this hiatus.

Chapter 37

Geneva, Summer 1963

The day they moved, furniture, cartons and crates were scattered on the terrace and throughout the house. Leini placed a stack of plates on a shelf in the larder and bent over to rummage in a box on the floor. She stopped to listen.

“It’s open,” she shouted in answer to the ring on the door.
That doorbell has to go and fast; I can’t stand the sound of cowbells in my home.

Meeting Vickie in the hall, Leini pressed her cheek to hers, lips stretched as she patted Vickie’s baby bump. “Getting to be quite big.”

“Tell me about it. It’s like…” She shrugged. “Well, you know what it’s like to be very pregnant.” She looked around, up, off to the left and right. “The house is beautiful on the outside, and I love the woodwork. I haven’t seen the house since the renovation. Do you have the time to take me on a guided tour?”

“I could do with a break. Come, I’ll show you.”

After she poured them each a tumbler of mineral water with a slice of lemon, she spread arms wide, as if to embrace the kitchen, alive with dappled sunlight.

“As houses go, it’s old and rambling. I love these wood beams here in the kitchen. We both like it the way it is, untouched, with the stone floor and this wonderful walk-in larder. Look at those small windows high on the two walls. I’ve put in pots of green plants, and here on the deep windowsill is my winter garden.”

As Leini showed her home, excitement purred inside like a content kitten. She smiled, awestruck that this was her home.
Here nobody can take the key from me. Nobody can chase me away. This is my home, I belong here.

She glanced at Vickie’s protruding belly. “Are you up to climbing the stairs to the second floor?”

“Sure. I’m huge, but I can still walk a flight of stairs.”

Leini chuckled. “We used to measure our circumferences when I was pregnant with Hannele, you expecting Nicole. The girls were born only one week apart, but I was always bigger than you.”

Together they ascended the creaking oak staircase to the L-shaped mezzanine that ran the length of the south and west walls. As she pointed at details, explained their choices, Leini gave a mental nod of contentment to Dr. Morgenthaler, the hours of therapy, some quite painful.
No pain, no gain.
She grinned at the cliché, but it was very apt. If she hadn’t chosen to work with him, she would never have known this level of peace and contentment. Thanks to therapy, she was now able to think about her past, about Mira, without wanting to cry. She wasn’t yet ready to forgive Mira, but nowadays, when she looked in the mirror, she saw a young woman’s face. She saw beautiful skin, high cheekbones, a firm chin and sensual lips. No longer did she notice only her wayward right eye, which wasn’t quite parallel to the left, nor did she shudder when she noticed it.

As they descended the stairs, Leini linked her arm in Vickie’s. “The house doesn’t come without sacrifices. There are things we’ll have to do without, like eating in a good restaurant more than once in a great while, and vacations abroad. And we’ll continue driving our old jalopy as long as it cooperates.”

“I’m sure the house is going to be worth doing without some things. Instead, you have your own home. Just think of the pleasure you’ll have living here.” Smiling, Vickie handed her a carton wrapped in varicolored paper, tied with a blue bow. “A housewarming gift.”

Taking the carton, its weight surprised Leini and it nearly slipped through her fingers. Setting it on the table, she smiled as she ripped off the ribbon and paper. Careful not to cause any damage, she lifted a square wall clock. Somewhat asymmetric, it stood on one of its corners as the left side curled toward the face.

Delighted, Leini held it at arm’s length. “It’s beautiful. I love the royal blue with these irregular stripes of black and powdery blue.” She touched the surface with a finger. “It porcelain, isn’t it?”

“It’s part faïence, part porcelain. It was handmade to order by the arts instructor at the school where I teach.”

Blinking against the tears, too moved to talk, Leini hugged her.

In the evening, the day’s chores done, together with Bill they hung the clock in the kitchen above the pine table. He swept off some fine concrete dust that settled on the table after he was through drilling the hole for the hook to hold the clock.

“The other day, on my way to work,” he said, “I passed by this second-hand furniture store. There were a couple of old wooden chairs in the window; you know, the kind with straight ladder backs, the seats made of slats. I thought they would look nice at each end of the table, and we’d have added seating when we have guests and don’t want to use the dining room.” He glanced at her. “What do you say we go look at them someday soon?”