§ § § -- June 29, 2004
Janine fumed aloud all the way to town. "They did it again! How come I can't seem to get there when it's just Christian all by himself? Wonder if maybe he'd notice if I came around wearing a spandex tank and bike shorts? What do I have to do?" It really burned her that he hadn't seemed to notice how well she'd pronounced her greeting to him, nor had he asked her to demonstrate more of her carefully memorized phrases in his tongue. How drastic was she going to have to be? She talked to herself energetically till she reached the outskirts of town, then continued her ruminating in her head while she pushed a cart around the store, almost absently picking out the things on the list. She kept scanning it, hoping to see something on it such as "wart remover" or "acne treatment", but nothing of the sort was there. Christian's wife might not be pretty enough for him, but she didn't seem to have many physical flaws. Janine sourly supposed she never had bad-hair days or body odor, even when she was wearing clothes with baby spit-up all over them.
Didn't he ever miss his bachelor days? Did he ever think about how good he'd had it when it was just him and he could do anything he wanted, anytime he wanted? Did he wish he'd never had children, never met that woman and married her? Did he resent her for making him move away from his homeland? Janine wondered all this and more as she went on with the shopping, and then suddenly had a wild idea.
She paid for the items, loaded the bags into the car and then ran across the square to the All-Natural shop. There was a bored cashier standing behind the one open register, and she pounded to a halt in front of the counter and asked breathlessly, "Do you carry cherry seltzer here?"
"What's cherry seltzer?" asked the clerk, staring at her. Janine realized then that the boy was around her own age, and she thought she might have seen him in school, but she wasn't sure. She hadn't bothered trying to make friends.
"It's a kind of soda," Janine said. "It's from Lilla Jordsö, and it's made with cherry juice, soda water, juice from some Scandinavian berry, and just a little bit of sugar. It'd fit right in with the stuff you sell here—all natural ingredients, nothing fake or gross. You ought to make a deal with some company there and import it."
The boy shook his head in disbelief. "I wouldn't know about that. I don't decide what they sell here. If you're really serious, you could ask the store manager, but probably he wouldn't be interested anyway."
Janine stared at him and then rolled her eyes. "Well, thanks a lot for your non-help." She tossed her hair and stalked out, wondering what she could do next. It was too bad they wouldn't sell that soda here. It sounded delicious, especially right now in the thick of a tropical summer. Then she had another idea and grinned broadly. This would get Christian's attention, guaranteed. She would just have to do it in stages, so it wasn't too obvious.
§ § § -- July 3, 2004
"Well, look at these three…a month old and just gorgeous!" Dr. Hannaford exclaimed, beaming at the triplets. Christian held Karina in his lap, Leslie held Susanna, and Roarke, who had come with them, held Tobias, all in sitting positions where the babies could see what was happening. They were waiting for Dr. Gwen Corbett, the island's pediatrician, to come out of her office. "How does it feel to be a grandfather, Mr. Roarke?"
"Exciting," Roarke remarked and grinned. "It's not a sensation I had ever expected to encounter, and I am truly enjoying it. Perhaps these children's possessive parents will even allow me to watch them briefly one day, when they're slightly older and Christian and Leslie feel as if they can bear the idea of leaving their children for a short time."
"You're going to regret making that wish," Leslie said with a grin, and they all laughed good-naturedly. "They still seem so tiny…I wonder when we're going to really notice them getting bigger."
"You will," Dr. Hannaford assured them, "the moment they outgrow some of those little sleepers you got at your baby shower. As long as they're gaining weight, they're in fine health. Any questions, Gwen'll be glad to answer—she's very good with this stuff."
The doctor in question came out just then with someone quite familiar to Christian and Leslie—Janine Polidari, along with her mother, Andrea. They all stopped, and Andrea and Dr. Corbett greeted the Enstads and Roarke while Janine stared helplessly and fixedly at Christian. Some conversation went on, prolonging the encounter, so that eventually Roarke noticed Janine's gaze stuck on Christian. Christian himself never saw a thing; but Roarke, reminded for some reason of Margareta's earlier concerns over Janine's attitude towards her uncle, attributed this to the fact that Christian—as a well-known personage throughout his life—was used to being gaped at by admirers and had long since learned not to see it. He regarded Janine's eyes on Christian, considered what he had heard, and came to a quick decision.
"Well, we've got to go," said Andrea presently. "We're undoubtedly holding up Dr. Corbett's whole schedule. Come on, Janine, let's go home."
"Hi, Mr. Enstad," Janine said then, and Christian glanced up, smiling distractedly and nodding back. Andrea took Janine's arm and pulled her along, while Janine kept shooting Christian glances over her shoulder and an oblivious Christian abruptly found himself dealing with his daughter's newly soiled diaper. Roarke noted all this; it merely confirmed to him that a talk with his daughter and son-in-law was in order.
"Well," Christian was saying helplessly, "there goes that outfit…"
"Lift her up, my love, and let's get a look," Leslie suggested. She grinned at Dr. Corbett. "Our next appointment after this one was to go to the photographer's studio in town and finally get the first official family portrait done, so that Christian could get the website for his family updated. If Karina's done what her father seems to think she has…"
"I have extra diapers for emergencies like this," Dr. Corbett said cheerfully. "I've been doing this for many years, and I've seen practically everything." She was a gray-haired lady somewhere around 60, Leslie estimated, and had probably raised her own children as well.
"That would be a lifesaver," Christian observed and hoisted Karina into the air for a moment, long enough to check his slacks. "If only it were so simple for me." They all laughed, and he arose along with Roarke and Leslie, each still holding a triplet. Dr. Corbett led them back to her office, which sported several bulletin boards crammed with photographs of babies and children. There, she gave Leslie a diaper, allowing her to change Karina swiftly and get the examinations under way. Christian, meantime, gave Leslie a sheepish look and ducked out to the men's room.
When Dr. Corbett walked out to get something, Roarke cleared his throat and said, "Leslie, perhaps if you and Christian can find a moment or two during the day, we should have a little talk."
Surprised, Leslie stared at him. "Sure, Father…but what about? Are we doing something wrong caring for the triplets?"
Roarke chuckled. "No, nothing of the sort—I didn't mean to make you think it was quite that dire," he said. "No, it's something else entirely, and I have enough concern about it that I thought it wise to bring it up to you and Christian. I realize you both have a full schedule today, between this appointment and then the one for the family portrait, so when you're free, just call my office."
"Sure," Leslie said again. "Incidentally, I've been meaning to ask. How're you getting along without me? Have I missed any really good fantasies?"
"I've tried to schedule boring fantasies simply to keep you from thinking you're being cheated of interesting experiences," Roarke said dryly, and she rolled her eyes, making him grin. "I explained to you before the triplets' births that I am deliberately keeping things light this summer, as you would necessarily be on leave to care for them. Most of the fantasies are routine requests—riches, fame, other mundanities."
Leslie grinned and teased back, "Oh, I see…the usual yawn-inducing stuff." They both laughed, their attention snagged by the sudden kicking of Susanna. "Hey, little girl, where'd all this sudden energy come from, huh?" Leslie lifted Susanna from the little bassinet where she was awaiting her turn to be examined and laid the baby against her shoulder.
Christian returned then, looking disgruntled. "Well, that was a spectacular failure. I suppose I'll have to grin and bear it until we get home and I can change clothes. It's very much fate's caprice that the first time one of the babies manages to ruin my clothes, it's the one time since their birth that I was wearing good pants."
Roarke and Leslie both laughed, and Leslie met Christian in the middle of the room to kiss him. "Cheer up, my love, pants are always replaceable. And besides, we'll be sitting down in the portrait, so nobody'll ever know what Karina did."
Christian regarded her dubiously and remarked, "Only if everyone we meet has no sense of smell." Again Roarke and Leslie chuckled, and he grinned reluctantly and took the last remaining chair. "Something wrong with Susanna?"
"She just seemed restless," Leslie said. "Uh, by the way, Father asked if he could have a little of our time to talk about something with us. I told him we'll call later."
"Oh?" Christian said, looking curiously at Roarke. "Anything urgent?"
"Not especially," Roarke said, "but I did think this should be brought to your attention. As I told Leslie, don't feel that it's a dire situation. I realize you two have a busy day planned. If you find it necessary to put it off, tomorrow will be soon enough."
§ § § -- July 4, 2004
Firecrackers in the near distance brought Christian and Leslie awake at what proved to be some decidedly ungodly hour, and Leslie groaned plaintively. "Why is there always some bozo who has to celebrate the Fourth of July at the earliest possible hour?"
"For the same reason some social drunks decide to get a head start on their holiday imbibing at six in the morning on New Year's Eve," Christian grumbled sleepily, rolling over to face her and sighing. "I hope it doesn't bother the triplets."
"It won't matter if it does," Leslie muttered. "I can feel it…they're due for a feeding soon, and frankly it'll be a relief. I'm leaking and I hurt."
"You haven't in some time," Christian noted, lifting his head with concern. "Are you feeling all right otherwise?"
"Yep, I'm okay, just awake at too early an hour," Leslie said.
Christian made a noise of assent and looked at the clock. "It's almost five-thirty in any case," he noted. "I may as well go and awaken Ingrid and have her prepare the formula. Which triplet has the next bottle?"
"Karina," Leslie said. Christian nodded and swung out of bed, then started at another round of firecrackers and muttered something unpalatable in jordiska. Leslie giggled halfheartedly and watched him round the bed.
"What'd that mean?" she asked playfully.
Christian gave her a reproachful look and shook his finger at her. "Oh no you don't," he mock-scolded. "No curse words until you can say your first complex sentence in jordiska." Leslie made a face at him and he grinned. "Be back shortly."
When he returned, Ingrid was behind him, and to Leslie's astonishment she spoke her first actual sentence in English: "Good morning, Your Highness."
"Good morning, Ingrid," Leslie said, blinking and grinning. "Very good!" Ingrid's smile seemed more grateful than the praise warranted, and Leslie watched the servant vanish around the wall to head downstairs. Then she looked at Christian and complained, "I wish she wouldn't call me 'Your Highness'!"
Christian laughed softly, leaned down and kissed her. "There's your first assignment, then," he teased. "Come up with the jordiska for that and then ask her." Leslie made another face and he laughed again, looking cheerful. "Don't forget, you wanted to learn. Well, since we're very much awake, we may as well face the day."
Five hours later the doorbell sounded off. By that time no one was in a cheerful mood anymore, even Ingrid, who had just discovered they were low on formula. Leslie, seeing her communicate this mostly through sign language, groaned. "Terrific," she muttered, "and the next feeding, Tobias gets the bottle. He'll be a bear if we don't have enough. Christian?"
"Yes?" she heard him call faintly. He had been upstairs working on the royal family's website while she and Ingrid had been inventorying groceries in preparation of the day's list for Janine.
"Come down here and help us, won't you?" Leslie called, going to the door and admitting Janine. "Hi there, we'll get you going in just a minute. Christian!"
"I'm coming!" she heard him shout from above, and then she heard the wail of one of the triplets. She groaned again and cast a help me look at Ingrid, who smiled sympathetically and hurried out of the room and toward the stairs.
"What a day this has been," she grunted, partly to herself. "Sorry, Janine, I don't mean to be antisocial…but the triplets have been fractious all day long, and it's not even lunchtime yet. And there are five loads of laundry to be done, not enough formula or laundry detergent, a longer list than usual…and I want to sleep till November." Janine stared at her and blinked, then grinned a little tentatively, and Leslie had to smile back.
Christian came down a minute later with Tobias on one shoulder, howling, and Karina on the other, not quite at her brother's level but definitely working up to it. "Oh, it's you," he said to Janine. "Listen, if you can get back here with more formula before an hour has passed, there'll be an extra ten dollars in it for you. Leslie—are you absolutely convinced we don't have any more? Ingrid just gave me the bad news."
"I looked three times myself," Leslie said a little impatiently, raking a hand through her hair. "Where's Susanna?"
"You know I can't carry three babies at once!" Christian exclaimed in annoyance. "I was fortunate to be able to lift two! Why don't you take one of them while you're standing here?" Leslie visibly bit back a retort and lifted Tobias off his shoulder, rocking her son and murmuring to him. Christian turned his back on her, gathering the list and the car keys for Janine, but Leslie stopped him.
"I'm not done with that yet," she protested.
"Oh, very well," Christian snapped, dropping keys and list back on the table. "Just for your information, Ingrid will be down with Susanna, since I wasn't able to grow a third arm in time enough to satisfy you." He carried Karina out of the kitchen, and Leslie stared after him for a moment, then closed her eyes briefly and swallowed before turning to Janine. The girl's eyes were wide with amazement.
"Sorry, Janine," Leslie murmured. "As I said, it's been a bad day." She cleared her throat and shifted Tobias from her right shoulder to her left so that she could add a few last items to the list. Ingrid came in with Susanna, the baby bawling and the servant looking a little frightened. Finally Leslie finished writing, gave Janine the list and keys, and sent her off with a sense of relief.
"Who…" Ingrid began, hesitated, then tried again. "Who…" She gave up and asked apologetically in jordiska, "Vem har babyflaskan nu, Ers Höghet?"
Leslie tried to process this as quickly as possible. "Baby" was easy, and she thought the other part of that compound word had been "flask", which carried a similar meaning in English. She must have asked who was on the bottle this time. A bit relieved, Leslie said, "Tobias." While she had Ingrid's attention, she advised with a few quick gestures that she wanted to trade babies, since she had both girls for this next feeding, and the switch was deftly accomplished. Leslie glanced nervously at the depleted can of formula, hoping there might be enough to satisfy Tobias and doubting it, then took Susanna into the living room.
Christian was pacing the floor with a wailing Karina, trying to soothe the infant without success. As soon as Leslie sat down and prepared to put Susanna to the breast, he turned to her and wordlessly settled Karina into Leslie's lap beside her sister. About to thank him, Leslie found herself watching him turn abruptly away and escape upstairs. Her mouth dropped open, and a half-formed question about his feeding Tobias died before she could finish putting it together. "Dammit," she mumbled to herself and concentrated on getting Susanna and Karina's feeding under way. Their crying instantly stopped, leaving poor Tobias as the one remaining siren. She could hear Ingrid singing to him in her own tongue and found herself battling back tears of her own.
‡ ‡ ‡
"Wow," Janine muttered to herself, piloting the Enstads' car down the access road and shaking her head. "Three screaming little brats, a frazzled wife…man, no wonder he was mad. I'd be mad too. I bet he really wishes he was back in the palace in Lilla Jordsö right this minute, being a bachelor prince." She smiled faintly to herself, her plans resolved. On her way from the store, she would pick up the item she had prepared the night before while Denise was with friends and her mother had been on a date, and bring it back with her to the Enstad house. "He deserves something better than all that," she told herself, and drove on, feeling proud and anticipatory.
Remembering Christian's words about there being extra money if she could get the groceries back within an hour, she all but ran through the store with her cart, cursorily checking labels as she tossed things inside, and picking up three cans of the formula they used instead of the two that she usually got. She kept checking her watch, wondering if she was going to make it; she was determined to stop at home and get her surprise for Christian, but she didn't want to lose that ten dollars.
Fortunately, she made it with about five minutes to spare, and left the car full of bags just to make it clear that she'd beaten the deadline. To her delight, it was Christian who answered her summons; the house was quiet, and he looked strained, but managed to smile at her. "Wonderful," he said in obvious relief. "Here, let me help."
"Sure was nuts this morning," Janine ventured.
"Mmm," Christian murmured, as if unwilling to talk about it. As though to himself, he muttered, "And we forgot to call Mr. Roarke as well…ödets infall att allt hender som så…" He shook his head and turned inward, and Janine bit her lip, still hopeful.
Inside the house, with the bags on the kitchen table (that looks messier every time I come over here, Janine thought in awe), she opened one more grocery bag and lifted out a covered baking pan. "I thought maybe you'd like this, Mr. Enstad," she offered, holding it out to him. "I know you kinda missed some stuff from home and all…"
Christian gave her an unreadable look, slowly accepted the pan and peered under the aluminum foil she had used as a cover. His hazel eyes went very wide then and he looked at her in disbelief. "You didn't," he said.
Janine nodded proudly. "I found a recipe online," she said. "I thought they'd be hard to make, but they really weren't. I ate one myself. Man, they're really rich!"
"Jordsklockor," Christian said, staring into the pan again. "Well, I have to admit, they'll certainly be a welcome end for a meal. But you really didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to," Janine said and beamed. "I can see how anybody could get hooked on them. Good thing I'm not on a diet." She giggled, delighted at his flabbergasted reaction.
"Yes, well…it's true, they certainly are rich," Christian agreed, setting the pan on the counter. "Well, I thank you for the effort, although I wish you wouldn't put yourself out."
"It's no trouble at all," Janine said eagerly. "I'm on summer vacation, and I have just this job getting your groceries, and I've got nothing else to do really. I have tons of free time. I thought it'd be fun trying out some Jordsonian food." She paused. "Can you say that? 'Jordsonian', I mean? It just sounds so awkward in English…"
For the first time he laughed. "It does sound awkward," he admitted, "and if you think so, imagine how it sounds to me." Janine giggled at that. "But," he went on, "it's perfectly acceptable. Look, the next time you come over, I'll give you back the pan…and in the meantime, here." He dug out his wallet and handed her thirty-five dollars. "I'm impressed that you made that trip so quickly, especially since Leslie added some things to the list."
"I hope the last baby got fed okay," Janine offered.
"Yes, we managed," Christian said and smiled. "Thank you again, Janine. You really have been a lot of help to us." Janine beamed again.
"Are you doing anything with the triplets for the Fourth of July?" she asked.
Christian looked a little perplexed. "The Fourth of…? Oh, that's right, the American Independence Day. We heard firecrackers early this morning, but I had forgotten what with all the frenzy around here. No, I don't expect we're doing anything. Perhaps taking the triplets to the main house for a time, but that's all, I believe. I hope you have some plans—I understand you're not native to this island."
"Oh no, I'm from Boston, Massachusetts," Janine announced proudly. For some reason he grinned broadly. "We have the best fireworks display in the country on the Fourth, you know. The Pops play in the half-shell at the Esplanade, and they set off fireworks for half an hour—big huge ones, you can see 'em for miles around, and they look so pretty reflecting off the Charles—and it gets shown on national TV too. We're famous for our Fourth-of-July celebrations. I always used to go with my family…before we moved here, I mean…" She bit her lip, and a strong surge of homesickness washed over her. "I really miss it."
"Yes, I can see that," Christian remarked. "Perhaps you'll have the chance to watch it on television, despite the time difference. But I do know that Mr. Roarke arranges a fireworks display for the American guests, and I've seen it…it's impressive, especially since he isn't at all obligated to cater to them to such an extent. You might like to see that."
"Oh, maybe," Janine said without enthusiasm. Talking about Boston's celebrations had dampened her mood. "Anyway, I hope you like the pastries. Thanks."
"Thank you, and have a good day," Christian offered, letting her out. Slowly Janine crossed over to her bike and climbed on, thinking wistfully of the planned party in the city and wondering abruptly if she had enough money for a last-minute flight home. Probably not, she figured. Wishing she had suggested to Christian that he too watch the broadcast, she slowly pedaled home, not caring that it took her more than two hours to get there.