CH 9
On Saturday morning Henrik prepared one of his special week end breakfast later than usual, they stayed at the school with the other families after the play, with toasts to the students and a photo of the whole cast and crew, as tradition every year to be displayed later on the corridor leading to the hall.
The grandparents hugged the actress and complimented her, Lillian and her partner before leaving gave Astrid a gift wrapped in red paper, asking her to open it only on Christmas Eve.
A boy with glasses and short hair was eyeing Astrid, he approached her in the corridor when she left the hall heading for the bathroom, calling her name. She turned.
"Mads, hallo."
"I saw the play, you were good."
"Thanks." Astrid smiled and the boy's cheeks turned slightly red; he handed her a small paper bag tied up with a blue ribbon.
Astrid look at the bag and when she lifted up her gaze Mads was already gone. Henrik was approaching from behind her so probably Mads had took off as soon as he saw her father coming.
"Another gift?"
"From a classmate."
"He's very kind."
"He went to the cinema with Louise."
"Maybe next time he'll go with you." Astrid's eyes got a new light.
"Can I go with him? You know his parents, his mother is the director of our bank branch."
"If he asks, I'll talk with them."
"Thanks, dad."
She went tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Back in the hall Astrid received praises from her teachers and smiled coy, unused to be at the centre of attention. The art teacher had a long conversation with Saga and Henrik about her future school projects.
Henrik retuned home feeling proud and grateful, his fears about Astrid seemed over, but his vigilance was still high and would remain so for a very long time, especially if she started going out with boys; he knew it would happen, sooner or later, but over protectiveness was in him. Astrid sometimes complained about it – like he insisting to drive her to and from school - but Henrik could not help himself being so careful with her security.
Still nightmares of Frank haunted him at night, often Saga woke up hearing his sobs and laments; she had found a way to calm him, massaging in silence his head until he relaxed, like she was touching his demons to made them disappear.
Calling his girls breakfast was ready, Henrik sat and bring the tea mug to his lips.
Green tea, Saga discovered it, with antioxidants, anti cholesterol, and all the other well know benefits.
Henrik was still stupefied how Saga - having someone to do all the cooking – changed her bad eating habitudes into a healthy lifestyle and enrolled Astrid to follow her.
No more sandwiches from street sellers, microwave pizza or burgers, sauces and soft drinks.
Now she wanted fresh vegetables or soups, planning a weekly rotation to assure they ate all the necessary vitamins, plus fruits every morning, cereals and proteins of vegetal origin to follow Astrid's vegetarian tendency.
Henrik learned to read her suggestions written on the new slate on the kitchen wall before deciding the recipe of the day.
Saga discussed with Henrik the benefits of olive oil instead of butter and cut off food with too much cholesterol and fats. How would Saga cope with his mothers traditional cooking style for the incoming festivities had to be discovered. But before going to his old house, he had two other places to visit.
"We're leaving early tomorrow morning, mom asked me to be there before Babett arrives. So today we could go to the graves with new flowers."
Astrid's eyes took the sad look, Henrik knew it was becoming difficult for her to go there.
Anna was her only important people at the village, the weekly visit a ritual to treasure the memory of her beloved sister; at home Astrid's life had a different path to follow, bringing her more and more far from her past. Henrik wanted to maintain the frequency of visits, but he was the one proposing now, and during the last months – especially after Saga moved in – Astrid thrice had good reasons to skip it. Saga suggested Astrid felt ashamed to see the grave, because she survived and Henrik did not want his daughter to be prey of guilt like saga had been, so he went alone to talk with his lost child.
"Can I come?" Saga. Who was present when Alice coffin was put to rest in the family chapel near the father. Who never visited Anna.
Henrik nodded, afraid to speak, so tight his throat was.
At the flower shop, he bought a pot of white daisies for Anna and little yellow roses for Alice; Saga was looking at the flowers in display, then she picked up a pink cyclamen with a gold ribbon from one of the shelves outside, paid for it and placed it in Henrik's box. .
"It's a flower for the exterior so it will survive in the graveyard."
At Alice's, Henrik put the roses near her engraved name, touching briefly the stone.
In Sweden, they walked slowly across the entrance, there were people coming and going, also from the church nearby, where voices and sounds of the organ suggested a rehearsal of the choir.
Henrik knelt to put the daisies from the box Saga held, Astrid knelt near him, not caring the discomfort of the little stones. Saga placed her gift and made a step backward, Henrik turned, afraid she was leaving. His eyes made Saga stop and she remained by his side.
Back home, Henrik busied himself with dinner.
Astrid was talking with Saga and scrolling internet on Saga's tablet; curious, Henrik tended his ear without understanding the conversation. A little pin of jealousy to be cut out, mixed with relief that his baby interacted well with Saga; then the duo approached the fire island.
"We want to bake Swedish biscuits for tomorrow." Astrid declared.
"Here the recipe." Saga turned the screen to Henrik. "My paternal grandmother baked them. Traditional Christmas biscuit, with cinnamon and ginger."
"And me and Saga want to prepare them together, you can supervise us."
Henrik's parents had decorated the house inside and outside; Klaus Sabroe put lights on a garden tree and along the front door. After years both his children would sat at the Christmas table and for the first time with their families. Alice had always wanted to spend the holidays with her family and Babett and Pierre wanted to stay with his aging mother who died two years before.
The old Sabroes found the situation quite unusual: people of three countries together, each with different traditions. Margrethe asked her children to find a shared solution. The result was a international compromise: the traditional Danish and Swedish dinner on the Eve and the French exchange of presents in the morning, a choice that suited well Henrik's need for the gift to Saga.
The food on display was the result of a day Margrethe spent in the kitchen, with the help of Henrik during the afternoon: appetizers, salmon, duck with potatoes and red cabbage, Danish pork steak, meatballs and pickled herrings in homage to Saga. A traditional dessert with rice and strawberry sauce concluded the meal.
Astrid opened Lillian's gift, a thin silver brooch with an arrow on it and Mads', a little figure made of corn and bamboo.
Henrik asked Astrid to follow him upstairs and they remained there for a long time; when they retuned, both with puffy eyes, Astrid wore a shining bracelet on her right wrist.
Pierre and Babett decided to attend the midnight mass at the small church where they exchanged their marital wows in front of their Danish relatives and friends, while in Paris they had the civil wedding. Astrid was curious to see the catholic celebration and the choir performing. Henrik accepted the idea, wanting to thank God – whatever church would be good for him - for his new found family. Saga was doubtful, but when they wore coats and hats she impulsively followed.
Renaud was coughing a little and Babett said it was much colder than in Paris, so the twins remained home with their grandparents.
The songs and the music form the organ of the church filled every heart with hope.
Saga listened with attention to her first sermon; the priest was a young man with a polish accent and his voice showed the joy for the birth of the saviour.
Henrik was tense, Saga noticed the way his fingers were contracting rhythmically They were sat in one of the last rows, Pierre near the aisle, then his wife, an arm over Astrid's shoulder, Henrik and Saga closed the line.
Saga touched Henrik's arm with her elbow and he remained immobile. The organ started the notes of the traditional song by Wade, powerful male voices of the choir inviting the believers to come to Bethlehem. The music pulsed in Henrik's head, his forehead started sweating, his breathing became faster, he passed a finger between neck and shirt, to get air. Then he asked Saga to let him pass and stood up.
He walked to the exit, unsteady, leaning on the small table near the door; arush of cold air reached Saga, who soon followed him outside.
She found him on the stairs, hands on the rally. Henrik was suffocating inside, the whole weight of Christmas fell on him like a huge blow.
The gospel about the holy night, the travelling family and their quest for a place to rest, the birth of Jesus, all reminders of the family he lost.
Guilt again filled him, he was drowning in sorrows; his head started spinning and his eyes tight shut to maintain equilibrium.
He was unaware Saga was there, until she took his arm, making him turn. In the faint light of the lamp over the main door, she saw how pain contorted his face.
He moved forward and his arms went around Saga, his face in her hair, more than a need, a urge, she let him do, he breathed her.
"It was all my fault."
"It's only an over emotional moment you're experiencing.".
"It's like it happened yesterday, not years ago."
"It will pass. This year was hard for us, especially you. The festive season opens up all kind of memories."
His hug became so strong Saga felt all their bones and understood how precious for Henrik was the gift of touch. The revelation touching him was different from touching her previous lovers: being a live in partner opened up new ways to be together.
Henrik was the force that helped her go through the prison, the following investigation and all the events that changed her life during the last months: he deserved something beautiful for once, so Saga moved her head tentatively up, to meet his, freed an arm from his grasp to caress his cheek.
Henrik tightened the embrace, afraid to let Saga slip away, desperate in his need of contact.
"I need to breathe."
"Sorry."
He let her go, keeping his arms around her lower back, relaxed, calmer.
In his eyes Saga read the truth.
"I love you." She whispered, then her face moved closer to claim his lips in a delicate kiss.
Astrid found them still kissing when, worried for their absence, she left her seat.
"Dad, you left?"
The couple turned and Henrik smiled at his daughter.
"It's nothing, Astrid, I was thinking about sad things, but now you and Saga are here, all is well. Let's go back together."
At home, they settled in their complicated sleeping arrangements; Babette, Pierre and the twins in the attic, Astrid in her aunt's former bedroom, Saga and Henrik had a new bed in his old room, narrow for two but it had to fit in. It meant privacy, acknowledgement they were officially a couple and for Henrik an excuse to sleep closer.
Henrik gave Astrid the good night kiss then disappeared downstairs; Saga was awake reading and she was sure to hear his voice talking with Pierre. Was it related to their fatherly roles, having to place the presents under the tree?
She had asked Henrik if he planned to wear the red costume, white beard and fake belly, to entertain the family in the morning as tradition required.
He laughed and explained his father used to play the Santa role, with his girls he and Alice always visited her parents – wealthy family with no Santa ideas - so he had new plans.
Henrik was cold as ice when he entered the bed, clad in a old style striped flannel pj Saga found absolutely lust killing; he tried to snuggle Saga to get some of her heath but she wriggled away, telling he was a cold fish.