March 30, 1953
"Erik, could you hand me the knife?" Susanna asked.
Erik did so and Susanna began frosting the small cake. She'd saved some cocoa to make some chocolate frosting, since she knew how much Lorna loved it. Just because they had a little extra money didn't mean that she was going to go crazy spending it though. She'd planned and budgeted to make sure that everything worked out just so.
They were living in a new apartment, one that was a few streets down from where they had originally lived. It was better: there was hot water most of the time, and the pipes never creaked. Very few things creaked, and the house was often silent. There were the same number of rooms, but she didn't have to worry about insulating them.
The money for the new apartment had come as a surprise. Erik had told her that he'd been saving money for a long time, never having much need of it. Susanna wasn't sure if she was being told all there was to do with that story, mostly because the numbers didn't quite add up. Still, at the time she had just marveled at the idea of being able to sleep in some place that she wasn't worried would fall apart. If she asked again later then it would seem like she didn't trust him.
Just because she didn't ask didn't mean that she didn't have her own ideas though. Susanna couldn't forget the threats he'd uttered against the people who had hurt him when they were younger. Every time he'd spoken Susanna had begged him to leave it behind him, to focus on his present, on his future. After a while he had stopped talking about it.
Susanna had known better than to think that he'd forgotten his cause entirely. The very fact that he had run away without saying goodbye spoke to it. He'd told her he'd travelled since then, and that he'd dabbled in construction a bit. She highly doubted if that was all.
Sometimes Susanna wondered if the hands that had caressed her face had ever strangled or stabbed anyone. She wondered how many lives her husband had taken, and she found herself wondering if the money that bought their new apartment had been bounty or blood money.
It wasn't as though this was new information to her. She had suspected it since he'd left and, now that he had come back, it was still something of a doubt in her mind. He'd promised her that he wouldn't keep any secrets from her though, and she had to trust that. She had to, at least for now, trust that he had told her exactly where the money had come from: he hadn't needed it.
Most of that reserve money had gone towards the apartment, the rent was a little higher, and they were feeding three instead of two, but there was some spare cash too now. She had never been in a position to throw around money, although having the extra ten or twenty dollars at the end of the week with Erik's paycheck was making things much better. It was why, instead of another book or a sweater for Lorna, she was getting something a little special this year.
"Do you think it will fit her?" Susanna asked, looking over at the small parcel next to her.
Erik picked up the box. It contained a watch, something that she knew Lorna would enjoy. She'd often looked enviously at her mother's watch. Susanna wasn't sure why her daughter was so fascinated with time pieces, but if she liked them then she wasn't going to ask too many questions.
She finished icing the small cake and put the knife down. She gathered up the candles and Erik set down the box. He reached out, swiping his finger along the knife's frosted edge. He sucked on his finger and Susanna gave him a disapproving look.
"What?" he asked.
"Don't do that," she said, her voice reproving.
He grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. His head leaned up against hers and, when he spoke, his voice was amused.
"And what happened to that girl who helped me sneak cookies from the kitchen?" he asked.
"She grew up," Susanna said.
"That she did," Erik said.
He kissed the side of her face and let go.
"And now she's my wife and lecturing me," he said, his voice raising slightly in mock-annoyance.
She had to stifle a giggle. It was so rare to see this playful side of him.
"You'll set a bad example for Lorna," Susanna said, imitating his tone.
"She's not here," he said.
"I told her to meet us in the dining room," Susanna said, "If we're not there in a few minutes, then she's going to start wondering just where we are."
She looked at the door.
"I'm surprised that she hasn't already broken the door down asking about the cake," Susanna said.
She picked up the candles and positioned them around the cake. There were seven in total, and she had a little bit of trouble fitting them all on it. However, she managed it and struck a match.
A moment later all of the candles were lit.
"We should take it in soon," Susanna said.
She looked over her shoulder and saw Erik staring at the cake. She frowned as she waved the match back and forth, putting out the flame.
"Is something wrong Erik?" she asked.
Was something wrong? Yes, something was very wrong. He wasn't sure how to tell her though, which was a problem that he was finding cropped up more and more. She wouldn't understand, not when her life had been filled with Lorna.
"She's seven," he said.
Susanna frowned at him for a moment, putting the match into the sink.
"Yes," she said.
He stared at her, willing her to somehow understand the jumble of thoughts that went back and forth in his head.
"She's seven," he repeated.
His wife continued to look at him, and he sighed. Of course. He should have known that she wouldn't understand.
"You know that...it doesn't matter that much," Susanna said after a time.
Erik's eyes swiveled. Susanna was looking at the ground.
"You're here now Erik," she said, "And, yes, seven years is a long time."
She let her eyes reach his now, and she gave him a small shrug.
"What you did...Erik, that meant a lot to her," Susanna said, "She'll be telling her own children about her father's return home, about all the things that you did for her as she grew up. You missed around seven years, yes, but you've gained the rest of her life."
Tentatively she reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Just like you've got mine," Susanna said.
Erik held her back. He knew that Susanna's words should comfort him and, in some ways, then did. He had years rolled out in front of him, years that could contain anything and everything. However, an unpleasant, sneaking suspicion was beginning to make its way across his mind. He had them, and now he would have to protect them if he wanted to keep them.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. This wasn't surprising information. It just proved that he was going to have to make sure that nothing ever happened to them. There was an uneasy feeling in his mind that, maybe, there wasn't anything to fear in this small, slightly rundown town. He shoved it away.
He'd been caught unawares once. He wasn't going to let it happen again.
Lorna had heard the raised voices from the kitchen, but she hadn't heard what they were saying. She'd stood awkwardly in the living room, her hands clasped behind her roof. She really hoped that they weren't fighting. They couldn't be making each other unhappy.
She thought she heard her mother sigh. Feeling bold and curious Lorna walked to the door to the kitchen and peeked in. Her father was kissing her mother's forehead, and her mother looked happy enough. She stepped away from the door as soon as she saw: kissy stuff was kind of gross.
However, it did mean that everything was alright. She waited for another minute before going to the dining room table, clambering up into a chair. Her mother came out a moment later with the cake, each candle lit. Her father followed her and Lorna grinned at both of them.
Her mother set the cake in front of her, and Lorna could feel her mouth watering.
"Happy birthday Lorna," her mother said, kissing her forehead.
Lorna looked up and beamed. Her father was standing a few feet away, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed. He did that a lot, but he was smiling, so she knew that it wasn't because he was upset this time. A lot of his happy and sad mannerisms were the same, and Lorna hadn't quite figured out how to tell which was which.
However, she knew enough to know that he wasn't angry at the moment. The smile was reaching his eyes. They couldn't have really been fighting then. It was just further confirmation of what she already knew.
Satisfied she turned back to the task at hand. Her mother had placed a small package in front of her.
"From your father and I," she said.
Lorna picked it up and ripped the brown paper off of it. Inside she saw a watch, silvery and pretty. Lorna's eyes grew even bigger. Only grown-up people got watches. Perhaps seven was grown up enough.
It was more than just something grown-ups had though. There were intricate little gears in it: she'd seen a picture in a book. For some reason all those little clicking pieces of metal seemed amazing, and it felt cool to wear it whenever her mother had let her borrow hers.
She wouldn't have to ask to borrow her mother's anymore now though. Now she had her own.
"Thank you!" Lorna said, grinning.
She clasped it around her wrist. It was a little big, but from experience Lorna knew that that just meant that she was going to be able to wear it for longer. Lorna stared at the hands ticking by for a few minutes before her father cleared his throat.
Surprised, Lorna turned and looked at him.
"Isn't it a bit of a tradition to blow out the candles now?" he asked.
"Oh, right," Lorna said.
She looked down at the small cake in front of her and sucked in a deep breath. She let it go and the flames on the seven candles flickered before dying. Lorna jumped up and clapped her hands.
"I did it! I get a wish!" she said.
"Yes, but don't tell us," her mother said.
Lorna bit her lip for a moment, wondering what it was that she should wish for. In the past she had always vaguely hoped for specific things, and she'd probably overused her wish limits. Lorna had wished that the leak in the roof be fixed since it had let in the cold. She'd wished for hot water, her mother to be happy and, one year when she'd been particularly vindictive, for Mabel to fall into a mud puddle.
Now though, now she wasn't sure what it was that she was supposed to do. She had a father now as well as a mother. They had moved out of that creaky little apartment. She was even doing well in school, besides the usual jerks. Lorna didn't even feel that belligerent towards Mabel anymore.
After a moment she was struck by inspiration. She slid her eyes closed and smiled. Silently, she wished that things would always be this good.