Days passed, and Apple Blossom life began to run efficiently with its new routine; soon, it was as if everything had always been as it was, there and now. One exciting evening, though, all of the residents were called together by a flushed, chilly Peter, who had met a middle-aged man who gave him a stern, inquisitive look then discretely handed him a telegram at the wooden gate. At first, the young boy had had a fright – every person with any sense knew that telegrams only brought gloomy messages.

Then, hands shaking, he opened the morbid envelope…

***

"Here, here, everyone! Come round! For you must listen to the splendid news," Peter called through the home as he slammed the front entrance closed.

"Det är från Lars och Lisbeth. Kan du gissa – oops, my apologies," biting his lip, he glanced at Victor, the only one of the four faces looking completely blank and confused instead of gleeful at the news. Carried away, the Larsons tended to slip back into Swedish without noticing the change – unless someone who could not understand was there. Peter wisely decided to rethink it and start again.

"It is from Lars and Lisbeth! Can you guess what it is about, now?"

Kirsten gasped and squealed, a girl again for that moment. Victor, realisation beaming from his dark hazel eyes, gathered Steven and Vick into his lap.

"Let us see it then, good fellow."

The short, but explanatory telegram read:

ALL

BABY GIRL BORN HEALTHY STOP MOTHER GETTING BETTER STOP YOU'LL HEAR MORE SOON STOP ADJO LARS LARSON

***

1 August, 1867

To dear sister Kirsten,

This baby is so adorable and precious to me that I only feel blessed that all is well. Lars and I are so happy. Inger was quite enough of a gift, but dear Baby is so much more. No, not more – that was wrong. Inger and Baby share equal pieces of my heart, but right now it is Baby's time for attention. It made me so perfectly content this afternoon – when my little Inger came to meet her sister – at first she wrinkled her nose at dear Baby's soft, wrinkly pink skin, which I laughed at, but then she laughed with me, and it was fine from there. Baby even smiled half a crooked smile, or we'd like to pretend it was smiling, which made my heart break. Baby looking up to Inger as Inger leaned down and some of her golden locks tickled baby's skin, making Baby squirm deliciously – oh!

Then Lars arrived, and insisted on taking a photograph on his rickety Kodak, which he had won in a bet, years ago with his college friends. Very proud, Lars is of it. He pushed the crib next to my bed, and Inger posed on the other side. I will send it straight to you, I promise, as soon as it has finished developing.

But, there now – enough of my overwhelming feelings for you to listen to, and down to the facts.

"Dear Lisbeth, dear Lars, what are you going to call our little granddaughter?" your Mama, my Aunt, asked.

Well, that was the worry. For a boy, it would have been Olav, for Papa of course, and Olly for short. You see, we had thought of so many names for a girl. There were plenty of namesakes of course – Anna, Kirsten, or even after your Mama. Too many, so Lars and I decided to go for something fresh.

I adored simple, wholesome names – Rachel, Jane, for example. But Lars loved the pretty, breezy sort – just like Lisbeth, he said. I am a stubborn thing, you know. Everything he suggested I turned down. I wonder how he has the patience with me! Florence was too romantic. Christine was too modern. Lucinda too old-fashioned.

Ah dear! But when my little girl stared up at me from underneath her thick lashes, she gave me this loving, meaningful look, Kirsten. From that moment I wanted a meaningful name, even though Lars and I agreed not because there were too many namesakes in this family. Well, three, I suppose – Inger, and your sweet boys. But nothing will do for such a wretched person like me, so set on it being perfect! Oh, Kirsten, I wish you could see me smiling as much as I am now.

So, kara Kirsten, my dear, my nameless baby child continues to be my nameless baby child, until anyone can think of an answer to our puzzle.

John Stewart has left for a few days to check on his doctor's practice in Deerwood, a few miles away. He hopes that, after a few years, when he has married Anna, he will set up permanent work in Maryville, taking over old Dr. Jones' practice, if the man is so kind as to pass it on.

So that Anna would not be alone – ha! Like she would be alone, surrounded by the whole family – or at least, so that she could have some part of him stay behind, John's good sister, Mary, is staying at Mama and Papa's farm. It is the first time Mary has returned to Maryville after leaving twelve years ago, just a child. Kirsten, of course you remember Mary Stewart, don't you? You two little girls were such playmates. Of course, she is delighted to meet us again, and see that her old house – your family's house – is still really standing, not just a childhood fairytale.

She is delighted, hearing of me and Lars settling down together, and of course, hearing of you. But Mary wishes she could meet you, though I don't see how she could – you have only just returned to Duluth, after all. Please, sister, don't you go taking that as a hint. I can see, each time you visit, it is harder and harder for you to leave, though you miss Apple Blossom.

Anyway, there is always the wedding.

Kirsten. I miss you. Even if you cannot – and must not – come, please send me a letter back. I just want to hear your – well, not your voice, but you know what I mean.

Yours and 'Adjö så lä nge',

Lisbeth

***

As Kirsten Roland folded up her reply to her sister and shoved it swiftly into the nearby envelope, she was full of thoughts. How she needed her Maryville home! And how she needed to gather up enough courage to tell Victor, even though he had probably seen this coming! Of course, if she was going to tell her husband, she'd better do it soon. Another few days would bring the departing of Victor to another week-long trip. Kirsten had waited way too long already, as even if he consented to make his wife happy, it would be a long and lonesome time before he returned and they could get to work. The planning they would have upon them! What a jolly past time…

Of course, they would have to tell everybody – Mama and Papa, Uncle Olav and Aunt Inger, Lars and Lisbeth, John and Anna….Peter….Britta would be so excited! And little Inger would always be able to play with Kirsten's sons. They could meet the new baby so much sooner than expected. Maybe help name her! Mary Stewart, Kirsten's closest girlhood chum, excluding Singing Bird and Marta, would be pleased to reunite. Mary, Kirsten and Lisbeth could go crazy with wedding plans in the years leading up to John and Anna's marriage. What fun, if they were all to be together again.

If. If, if, if. All down to her, Kirsten. A few words and some bravery could set her world even more perfect than it was, if they deserved that. But could she really do this? Would it imply to Victor that she was not happy in the wonderful lifestyle he had worked so hard to create for their family? He would know that Kirsten did not mean that and just wanted the best for them, though. Or would he? Oh, oh, oh!

And the worst was that she wanted this so much. If Kirsten were not to get this at all…well. She supposed it would be understandable and she wouldn't blame Victor for staying close to his job – after all, if they made a move so far from the coast, he would be able to manage the voyages, yes, but no more extra income for the odd jobs that Victor so enjoyed helping Charley and Peter out with at their shipyard.

Suddenly, Kirsten was jolted out of dreamland by the back door slamming, and the sound of four pairs of feet in Apple Blossom's hallway. Eventually, the men entered – Victor, Peter, Charley Alfred, then an unfamiliar man who paused, hovering at the doorway.

He grunted embarrassedly, mumbling something along the lines of "Excuse me, ma'am. 'Day, Roland, Larson."

Turning to Charley more cheerily as they excused themselves and left, he boomed out in a deep voice "Alfred! So, tell me about Duluth then. The docks, the lakes, the coves! How-"

The noise faded slowly away as they walked into the sunshine and back down the sandstone path, becoming quieter, quieter, until silence descended upon Apple Blossom once more.

"Sorry about Mr. G. He's an industrial-type businessperson. Can't show his face in front of a woman, ye know?" Peter explained as he lazily collapsed into the closest chair.

"Mr. G.?" questioned Kirsten, raising her eyebrows at Victor. But it was Peter, again, who answered.

"Mr. A. Giesz. Funny, because as far as we know, he is one hundred per cent American. Mr. G. suits him more. He's a new man to Duluth, and we need to make him feel very welcome - for the sake of keeping our jobs, because he is very close to the Shipyard's owner," Peter yawned, then got up, pronouncing "I'm hitting the sack, folks. Today was mighty knackering. G'night, Kirsten."

Kirsten rolled her eyes after glancing at the kitchen clock. Five o'clock was pushing it – maybe, once the aroma of tonight's fish wafted upstairs, her brother would wander down again.

It was only then that Kirsten realised that, with the twins playing in the orchard with the Alfreds and Peter napping, she and Victor were alone together. As she peeked up innocently from writing Lisbeth's name and address on the envelope, she saw, as usual, her husband picking up the Notes and settling down at the table across from her. Fear sweeping over her, though she knew it was silly, Kirsten began to write each letter ever so slowly, making sure it was absolutely spot-on neat. Pausing on the n in Larson, she chewed her pen, remembering she would laugh at her behaviour to herself later, when this conversation was over and everything was all right.

She wrote at snail-pace for a long while. When she had finished and gone over to perfection the last a in Minnesota, nerves got the better of Kirsten. Guiltily but gratefully, she decided that it would be best to fetch Victor a steaming mug of strong, black coffee to get on his good side before the dreaded confrontation.

Perplexed, Victor was watching with one raised eyebrow – eventually, he cleared his throat. Kirsten smiled at him sweetly and pleadingly as she set down the tin mug in front of the Notes.

"Dear girl, get it out of your system finally, will you?" he laughed in a great, loud guffaw. Try hard as Victor Roland might, but he couldn't halt that laugh when he had the mind to start it, even in the most unlikely of situations.

"Oh, Victor, of course you knew!" laughed Kirsten, at the last straw.

"Yes, I knew you had something, probably large, on your mind," Victor frowned, "But no, I did not know what it happened to be."

"Oh. Ugh."

"You can tell me anything, Kirsten, anytime. I love you. Just get this off your shoulders. For me, lassie."

"Fine – are you happy here, Vick, at Apple Blossom, in Duluth?"

"Why, yes," Victor answered hesitantly.

"So am I, of course. Are you happy with my family when we visit in Maryville, dear?"

"Why, yes."

"Oh, Victor – this is it. My parents – my aunt and uncle – my brothers and sister, and cousins, and niece…nieces –" choked Kirsten, "They love me so dearly. I – I need them, darling. And, possibly, I might even be able to say that they need us, too. Stevie and Vickie, our sons… I want them to grow up with all the ones we love most around them – the way I grew up in Sweden, and eventually, the way I grew up in Minnesota.

"Also," she smiled, tenderly brushing her white hand to her round middle, "This one, too. I want the best for them all. You, dear, too. We need this, I know. Not just to be with, however I care for them, the family I cook for, all the time. Our life is magical, Victor, but it could be even more so…

"Don't let's be practical, Victor, mine, and do something irrational for once. Something so joyfully irrational?"