Page 22 of The Christmas Mittens
“As it should be. The bath is here.” He rapped on the closed door with his knuckle. “It’s cramped, but it has a nice sink. I’ll wash up after you.”
I nodded, slid around him, stepped over Della, who had left her bed to sit and stare at the bowls of soup cooling on the counter, and wiggled into the bath. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was cramped. There was a slim shower stall, a sink, and a toilet. Two towels, one white and one green, hung from a rack by the sink. It felt like a bathroom on a plane. I’d flown once with Katie before we were married to visit Seattle. That had been the last time I’d left Pennsylvania. We’d gotten married, our honeymoon was spent in the Poconos, and we’d come back to Grouse Falls to start a family. Someday, I would love to see more of the world, perhaps take Gilda to Paris or Italy or Greece. But for now, those dreams were so far out of reach they might as well be planets in another solar system. Any money I did manage to save went into a college fund, which was dismally shy of what she would need in five years.
I took a breath and washed up, lathering up with a seaside-scented soap that helped lift the doldrums that rode my shoulders most days.
When I exited, Anders motioned to the pullout table that now extended alongside the bed.
“We’ll sit side-by-side to eat. I hope that’s all right?” I nodded. “Good. Wiggle in, and I’ll be right out. The bread is sliced and wrapped in that cloth. Please start in. The soup should be just ready to eat now so our little sexy diversion worked out well.”
“We should have sexy diversions before every meal we eat,” I commented without thinking as I crawled onto the bed and over to sit beside the counter that served as a headboard. Then it struck me what I had said. My sight flew to Anders. “Not that I think we have to have more meals together.”
“I think we should,” he replied before ducking into the bath and closing the door. I glanced down at Della sitting up and begging. Oh my, how did anyone resistthat? “And do not feed her any people food. She has expensive dog food for her tender tummy.”
“Ah, see, he knows your tricks. Sorry, your dad says no to people food,” I told the dog. She sighed dramatically and went back to her bed, wearing a doggie pout. I uncovered the bread, a dark rye with seeds baked into the crust, and tore a chunk free. I nibbled on the tasty but earthy bread, enjoying its robust malty taste while glancing around the camper.
There were a few things on display, mostly books, a phone charger, and a small picture frame of four small boys on a beach. They all had brown curls and dark eyes, and they were tanned and smiling. Tallest to shortest, lined up in damp trunks with wide smiles. Brothers obviously. As I chewed, I leaned in to study the photo up close, but the boys were so similar I couldn’t tell which was Anders. Children do change over time. Baby fat goes away and faces grow out and mature. If I had to guess, I would pick the shortest boy at the end as he had a smile that was familiar. A deep, sincere smile that would put people at ease. I know it did me.
Anders exited, his face pink from a wash, his curls damp, and caught me looking at his family pictures.
“Those are my brothers and me on the southern tipped coast of our island. I think I was perhaps seven when that was taken. I’m the youngest.” He sat beside me to gaze at the image, his expression wistful. “Frode is the eldest.” He pointed at atall, gangly, dark-haired teen who stood a good foot above his siblings. “Frode is quite austere but kind at heart. Next is Ivar, who is four years younger than Frode and enjoys equestrian events.” His finger moved to the next tallest lad. “Following Ivar is Harold. He’s the wildest of the four of us.” He tapped the glass over a young man wearing glasses that were streaked with dirt. “And then there is me, the baby, and the odd outcast of the children.” His voice grew sad. He gently placed the image back to rest on the shelf under the wine rack. “Do you have any siblings?”
I so wanted to ask what he meant about being an outcast, but he seemed so downcast that I tucked it away for another time. I wanted him to smile again.
“No, I was an only child—a late in life surprise—so I got all the bennies of being the lone chick,” I teased and got a twist of the corner of his mouth. “The good and the bad and sometimes the ugly. The shop came to me so no bickering with anyone over the estate, not that it was much of an estate, mind you. I also had to shoulder the care of two elderly parents by myself, though Katie helped a great deal. My mother passed away just after our wedding, and my father followed her about seven months later. Neither of them ever got to meet their granddaughter.”
He gave my thigh a pat. “You’ve suffered much loss in your life. I am sorry.”
“Thanks.” I put my hand over his. “It’s not been easy, but Gilda and I are doing well. There are times I wish she had a woman in her life, but we’re muddling through.”
“She seems a happy and bright child. You are doing a splendid job.” He stole a kiss. “Now, shall we eat? I’ve worked up an appetite.”
So had I, and so we dug in, sitting on the bed, legs either in a lotus or tucked under us, sipping soup, dunking bread in said soup, and just talking about the world. Our opinions on mostthings were identical, and the things that we differed on—which was better on a burger, mustard or ketchup—were tiny things. Politically, we aligned as well, so there would be no squabbles over soup about who was running things. At least in the States.
“So your country is a monarchy,” I said once the soup and bread were gone and we’d cuddled up with a dog now curled up on Anders’ lap. The bed was so soft and warm. I dreaded leaving it, but I was going to have to go soon. Money didn’t grow on trees, as Dad used to say. That had to be earned, and I was not going to earn it by spending the afternoon in bed with a handsome man. “How does that seem to be working in this day and age? Are the people happy with the ruling family?”
I had little knowledge of world events or of those who made the news. I tended to avoid most social media since it was unhealthy for someone who tended to be blue from October to May. My mental health was important to me, so I just stayed away from the worst of it and streamed shows I liked while enjoying silly cat and dog videos.
“Yes, overall, the ruling family is quite popular.” His arm rested on my shoulder, and my head rested against his. A stray curl was tickling my nose, but I left it be as I loved his curls so damn much. “Of course, there are those who feel that a monarchy is antiquated, and in many ways I do not disagree, which is yet another bone of contention between my father and myself.”
“Ah, so he’s a royalist then?” I asked, watching Della twitch in her sleep.
“Oh yes, very much so.” Anders chuckled sardonically. I lifted my head to gaze at his profile. Gone was any sign of relaxation he might have been wearing after our tryst and the delicious soup in his belly. There was contempt now. Damn it. I’d done that.
“Well, we can’t all agree with the older generations. My father had a hell of a time accepting that I was bisexual. I’m not sure heever did fully grasp it, but seeing as how I married a woman, he could pretend that I was straight.”
He exhaled strongly. “Yes, family is not always an easy thing to understand.”
I kissed his cheek just as the alarm on my phone pinged. “Ugh, time to return to the salt mines,” I groaned and buried my face in his neck.
“Well, damn, we never even got to have dessert. I bought a sponge cake and some berries,” he said, which made it even harder to pull myself away from his warm bed and strong arms but pull I must. “Perhaps you can come for lunch tomorrow. We’ll have something for the meal and enjoy the cake for dessert?”
“I would love that.” We kissed for a long, long time. So long that my alarm sounded again. I left his camper with a mighty sigh and a promise that I would return on the morrow for a light lunch and a heavy dessert. To be honest, Anders’ kisses were sweet enough for me…
Chapter Ten
Wednesday, December 16
At precisely ten of eleven in the morning, a most delightful text arrived on my phone.
