Welcome back to Denmark! After a bit of a hiatus, Kire is back :)
Ch 169
Phelan stood protectively at Bodil's side, their shoulders nearly touching as they approached the house with me trailing behind them as Toke put the horse away in the barn.
My brother's posture was more rigid, gray eyes more alert as he glanced behind at me. His expression was normally stern, but there was something different about him that I could only describe as more dutiful.
"If at any time you wish to leave, say the word," Phelan told our sister, placing his hand on her elbow.
"I don't believe your grandfather will allow me to leave," she replied.
"That's not his decision."
"Are you going to tell him that?" Bodil warily asked.
"If need be, I will make certain Toke is aware that he will not hold you prisoner," Phelan assured her. "You say the word and I will see you safely back, no questions asked."
"Why would you do that?" she questioned.
"Because you're…" Lan made a face. "Fifty percent related to me. Is that not punishment enough?"
Bodil huffed. "Thank you for your offer, Phelan. I may hold you to it."
"My pleasure, Bodil." Phelan turned his head and Bodil did the same, the two of them exchanging closed-lipped smiles to each other.
Hilda was not in the dining room or the parlor when we entered the house, and Phelan sighed to himself.
"Hilda?" he called out.
"In here, Grandson," she shouted from the kitchen.
"Stay with her," Phelan said to me, nodding at Bodil. "I'll return in a moment."
"Of course," I said.
He smoothly turned from Bodil, and walked into the kitchen. "Why are you hiding in here?" I heard him ask Hilda.
"I'm not hiding, Grandson. I am avoiding that Kimmer Girl."
Phelan scoffed. "Do not call her that. Her name is Bodil and you know it."
"That is not what she is called around here, Phelan."
From the corner of my eye I saw Bodil bow her head. She shuffled toward the hearth and examined the small portraits above the fireplace that Phelan had gifted to Toke and Hilda.
"I don't care what others have called her in the past. It's condescending and I will not tolerate you treating Bodil in that manner," Phelan said. His voice dropped lower as he finished speaking. "That is our sister. I love you dearly, Hilda, and I have the utmost respect for you and Toke, but I will not have Bodil insulted by you. You are both our family. Are we clear?"
Bodil's head snapped up. She swallowed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. I made my way toward her and whispered, "I suppose I've lost the Brother of the Year contest?"
She smiled to herself. "I will consider it a tie."
"Phelan, please," Hilda pleaded.
"There is nothing left to discuss. If you cannot treat her with respect, Erik and I will walk her home right now and we will see you again in six months."
"Phelan." Hilda gasped. "No, I don't want you boys to leave. You are dear to me, you are my beloved grandsons. You must stay for the afternoon."
"Then Bodil stays and you will refer to her in a respectful manner. Agreed?"
A long moment passed before I heard Hilda verbally agree.
"Good," our brother said. "I will be waiting with Erik and Bodil."
"Waiting for what?" Hilda asked.
"Toke said he wanted to discuss business."
"What sort of business?"
"I have no idea."
"Then I will wait here for Grandfather," Hilda said.
"You prefer waiting alone in the kitchen to being with your grandsons? We only have a few hours left," Lan reminded Hilda.
Hilda exhaled. "Then I will spend those hours with my boys."
They appeared a moment later, arm in arm, with Hilda gazing up at Phelan with pure adoration despite their exchange.
"How are my boys?" she asked, completely ignoring Bodil despite our sister standing next to me.
"Disappointed to leave," I answered.
"Then my little grandson should stay with his grandmother," Hilda suggested. "And grandmother will cook for him and fatten him up."
"That is not necessary," I said. "My wife feeds me three times a day and my children often sneak me cookies between meals."
Bodil looked me up and down. "You are a bit thin."
"Aside from his middle, which is filled with cookies," Phelan said.
Hilda abandoned Phelan in favor of coming to my rescue where she wrapped her arms around me. "My little grandson is perfect," she said. "I will not tolerate anyone teasing him."
In all of my life, I'd never once been called 'perfect' by anyone. I would not have believed it coming from another person aside from Hilda, whom I knew by the way she tightened her grip truly believed her own assessment.
Toke walked through the back door, slamming it shut, and through the kitchen where he appeared a moment later, adjusting his dust-covered shirt collar.
He looked at the four of us and nodded. "Business," he said.
We were seated around the dining room table; Toke and Hilda beside one another while Lan and I sat on opposite sides of Bodil, who looked quite uncomfortable being in the Ostergaard home, for which I couldn't blame her.
Hilda still refused to look in Bodil's direction while Toke's hardened gaze remained trained on her.
The look in our grandfather's eyes reminded me of Lan, who had a way of appearing quite scrutinizing in his natural state.
"Where do you purchase your butter and cream?" Toke asked.
"From a dairy farm," Bodil vaguely answered.
"Which one?" Toke impatiently asked.
Bodil inhaled. "Why are you inquiring?"
"Because I am interested in doing business with The Skyderhelm Inn and the bakery that you own."
Bodil straightened her spine. "I beg your pardon?"
"What are you paying now for butter and cream?" Toke asked.
Bodil considered the question for a long moment.
"Four hundred for one hundred and fifty pounds of butter."
Toke appeared quite surprised, but I wasn't sure if it was the amount of product that she used or the amount spent.
"I could do a krone a pound," he said.
"That is not enough to compensate us," Hilda said.
"It is," Toke said. "We will sign a contract and supply your bakery for six months."
"In exchange for what?" Bodil asked.
"In exchange for being my grandsons' sister."
Bodil frowned. "I will think about it."
"What is there to think about?" Toke asked. "I offer you a better deal than any other farmer in the area."
"I will think about it," Bodil said through her teeth. "Phelan–"
Our brother was on his feet at once.
"What are you doing?" Hilda questioned.
"I'm seeing my sister back to town as previously promised."
"No," Hilda begged. "No, the boys stay here. The Kimmer girl–"
"Do not call her that," Phelan snapped. "Her name is Bodil. I will not tell you again."
Bodil and I both gaped at Phelan.
"I will take you all back," Toke offered. "The boys and the girl."
"There's no need to take the horses out again," Phelan said, wiping his hand over his mouth. "We are perfectly capable of walking."
"I don't want my boys to leave yet. Please, not yet, not on the last day," Hilda begged.
The look in Lan's eyes indicated that he was quite conflicted, desiring to visit with Hilda and Toke for the afternoon while remaining true to his word for Bodil's sake.
"I'll walk back," Bodil offered.
"No," Phelan firmly replied. "I am not letting you walk alone."
"It's the middle of the afternoon," Bodil argued. "I will be fine."
"I will not be fine if something happens to you," Phelan responded. His gaze flickered toward me, then back at our sister, and I knew what was on his mind. "We all leave together. I will not argue with you."
The three of us stood, uncomfortably staring at each other before Phelan muttered under his breath and turned away, heading toward the door.
"Hilda, I have portraits for you as always that I will show you once we return. Kire, we will come back as soon as Bodil is in town with her horse and buggy," Lan said over his shoulder as he pulled the door open.
He paused quite abruptly, still grasping the door handle, his resolved expression draining from his face.
I stepped forward to see what prevented him from leaving, fully expecting a wayward cow or temperamental rooster blocked the flower-lined path.
"Phelan," I heard a woman say.
My brother looked as though he wanted to close the door, but kept it open. "Myrna," he said.
oOo
"Where is Bodil? Is she with you?" Myrna asked, her tone frantic.
"Why do you sound so nervous?" Toke asked as he made his way toward the door.
"Where is my granddaughter?" Myrna asked, peering through the doorway.
"I'm here, Gran," Bodil answered.
Phelan stepped aside, allowing Myrna into our maternal grandparents' home.
"Are you well, my child?" Myrna asked.
"I'm fine," Bodil assured her.
"Why would she be unwell?" Hilda questioned. "She is fine. We are not cruel people like your sons."
Myrna recoiled from the statement. "Hilda Ostergaard, do not speak of my children," she snapped.
"I will do as I please in my own home, Myrna Kimmer, you shameful woman."
"My surname is Amdahl," Myrna corrected. "Do not disrespect my late husband Soren."
"Gran, how did you know I was here?" Bodil interrupted.
"Someone said that you were abducted by the Ostergaards." Myrna crossed her arms and sniffed. "I see now that it is true."
"Liar," Hilda said.
"I would not put it past you," Myrna said through her clenched teeth.
"Toke and I are not like Bjorn, abducting innocent girls for their own pleasure. May your son's soul rot in hell for what he did to our Gyda."
Myrna drew in a breath, color draining from her face. "You are wicked."
"You raised wicked children."
"You– How dare you speak to me like that."
"That is enough," Toke said, raising his voice. "Hilda, Myrna, not another word."
"She must leave at once," Hilda demanded.
"Do you think I want to be here?" Myrna questioned.
"Enough!" Toke bellowed, his voice booming as I'd never heard before. The frail dairy farmer transformed before my eyes, his anger striking the flint of the Viking he was deep inside. "Do not speak to each other like this a moment longer.
"I agree with Toke," Phelan said, crossing his arms. "That's enough from all of you." His gaze settled on me.
"I didn't say a word," I said under my breath.
Everyone turned to face both Toke and Phelan.
"Myrna, come inside," Toke ordered. "Everyone sit at the table."
"As much as we all appreciate the invitation, Bodil is leaving," Phelan said.
"Five minutes and then you may leave," Toke replied, turning his attention to Bodil.
"I have nothing left to say," Bodil replied quietly.
"I do," Toke said to her. "And I want your grandmother to speak as well. Sit, children."
When no one replied, Phelan sighed and turned to Bodil. "I will respect whatever you decide."
"Five minutes," Bodil whispered back.
Toke pointed at the chairs around the table and assigned seating, requesting that Bodil sit between me and Phelan while Hilda sat on one side of him and Myrna on the other.
A handful of seconds passed and no one spoke or looked at one another.
Toke rapped his knuckles on the table. "This table is as sturdy as they come," he said. "Do you know who helped me build this?"
"Willem," Myrna answered in a whisper.
Toke nodded. "Yes, that is correct, back when I was a young groom with a young bride. I built it imagining that one day I would pass this farm and this table onto my eldest son. But I lost my only boy and both of my girls. And I lost my closest friend to his demons and a childhood friend who has not been invited into my home until now."
Myrna's bottom lip quivered.
"Bodil tells me Frederik is still alive?" Toke commented.
Myrna nodded.
"And doing well?"
"He is."
"Does he still reside in Brussels?" Phelan asked.
Myrna seemed surprised by his inquiry. "He does, but he's been traveling the last few months. I heard from him in June and he was back in his home."
Phelan solemnly nodded.
"He would like you," Myrna said.
"I've met him," Phelan said. 'On several occasions, actually."
"You remind me of Frederik," Myrna said softly. "Your personality."
Phelan scoffed. "Forgive me, Myrna, but you do not know me well enough to make that observation."
The room went silent. Myrna sat with her head bowed and eyes brimming with tears while Phelan sat with his jaw working wordlessly.
"Why didn't you come back for me?" Lan asked, his gaze cast down. "Why did you leave me there with them?"
"My son did not want me to stay."
"Yes, but why did you listen to him?"
"Because he was insistent."
Phelan scoffed at her reply. How could you have possibly obeyed that monster? How could you have made the conscious decision to leave a three-year-old boy with that man? I know I was terrified of him. I know that I was covered in bruises and begged you to stay with me. I know I did not want to go back to that house, but you left me there anyhow. Why?"
Myrna drew in a trembling breath. "Because I was afraid of him as well," she said at last. "Because he said if I did not bring you back at the end of the day, he would find both of us and he would not stop at merely striking you. He said what he would do to you first and then me and I couldn't bear the thought of him hurting you worse than he already had."
"So you saved yourself?" Phelan coldly asked.
"Bjorn said you were combative when I was near you. He said that you would kick and bite him."
"Yes, out of defense because he was beating the hell out of me," Phelan responded.
"I didn't know–"
"You absolutely did know and do not pretend for a single second that you did not," Phelan argued as he began to unbutton his shirt sleeve and roll the fabric up to his elbow. "This is what he did to me after Erik was born. He held my arm over the fire until my flesh blistered. I thought I was going to die from the pain. I still feel like this could very well be mortal in nature. It hurts day and night, almost constantly. This is what your son did to me. This is what happened when you left me behind."
"Bjorn threatened to kill you," Myrna said.
"He very well could have when I had no one there to defend me," Phelan answered. "Look at this, Myrna. Look at what he did."
Beside him, Bodil's lips parted in horror. She reached for Phelan, drawing his right hand from his left arm and entwining her fingers with his.
"Don't," Bodil said under her breath.
Phelan swallowed, looking as though he wished to remove her hand from his, but didn't move away. The look in our sister's eyes was nothing short of protective, the youngest of us guarding the oldest.
"I am angry at you for leaving me," Phelan said, his gaze pinned on Myrna. "I am angry and hurt by your decision."
"I tried to go back for you," Myrna said.
'When?" Phelan impatiently asked, his eyes the color of gunmetal and hard as steel.
"After the baby was born," she said, her gaze settling upon me. "It was a bitter winter and travel was difficult, but I returned to Conforeit. My son was not at home, but his wife, Gyda, was there alone.
"I asked her what happened to the baby and she said it was dead at birth and the midwife disposed of the child before she was able to see it."
Hilda placed her hand over her heart. "My Gyda," she murmured.
"There was a heap of dirt behind the house, an unmarked grave the size I would expect for a newborn infant. Gyda took me to the plot of freshly overturned earth and attempted to put her arms around the frozen ground. She wanted to hold her baby and that was as close as she could come to being at peace with the loss."
The image in my head made me shiver. I had never expected my mother to want or grieve me. I had never expected her to care at all for me.
"Gyda was not dressed for the cold, so I brought her back inside and asked what had happened to Phelan and she told me that she wasn't certain, but that she knew a spirit had come into the home one evening and had stolen from her. She was not coherent, but she repeated that the spirit had taken the little boy."
"The little boy?" Toke questioned. "Phelan, you mean to say?"
Myrna nodded. "Gyda often thought of Phelan as Greta's son. She would say her sister came to visit and left her son to stay for a while. All she knew for certain was that the little boy was screaming and the spirit dragged him away."
Toke's expression darkened.
"There was no spirit," Phelan said under his breath. "Alak took the two of us."
"He promised to look after you," Myrna said.
"Why didn't you look for us at his home?" I asked.
Myrna frowned. "I only heard from Alak when he returned to the port of Calais. He had not written to me in over a year, and I had no way of contacting him. If I had known where you were…" Her voice trailed away and she inhaled a trembling breath. "If I had known, I would have taken you with me for good. I would have raised you alongside Bodil."
My brother and sister exchanged looks. I couldn't see Phelan's expression, but Bodil offered our brother a wan smile in return.
It was nearly impossible to think of how different our lives would have been if we had both been taken from Conforeit to live with our paternal grandmother, her husband, and our sister. Phelan and I would have presumably been expected to take over the family dairy for Toke and Hilda, most likely never pursuing art and music.
I couldn't help but think what would have happened if we would have returned to Conforeit to search for our mother, if we could have saved her from the misery she had endured alone in a foreign country. I would like to have thought we would not have abandoned her to such a fate.
"Myrna," Toke said. "I have known you since birth."
Myrna nodded in response.
"Our children are gone, your son and our daughter," Toke said. "What we have left is sitting across the table from us."
Hilda, Toke, and Myrna regarded Phelan, Bodil, and myself.
"Stay for supper," Toke said.
Myrna shook her head. "I couldn't."
"You can." Toke reached for Hilda's hand. "We are too old to miss these opportunities with family."
oOo
After a brief discussion, all three women walked into the kitchen together while Toke invited Phelan and I outside in the shade to relax and await the meal.
"Phelan," Toke said. "Forgive Myrna before you leave."
My brother eyed our grandfather for a long moment, but didn't speak.
"Did you hear me?" Toke asked.
"Yes, I heard you," Phelan responded.
"Will you do as I ask?"
"I will say the words if you want, but they will not be sincere," Phelan replied.
Toke issued a pointed look. "Then you do whatever is necessary to make Myrna feel like you are telling her the truth."
"Why does it matter to you?" Phelan asked.
"Because I am eighty-five, Phelan. I do not want to go to my grave knowing my grandson would not ever forgive his other grandmother. Myrna is a good woman and she tried."
"She did the bare minimum."
"She did what she could."
"It wasn't enough," Phelan said, "and we suffered because of it."
"You speak like someone who has no regrets for anything you've previously done," Toke replied. "Are you satisfied with every aspect of your past?"
Phelan's lips parted and he gave Toke a sideways look. "No, of course not."
"Do you have people you would ask to forgive you?"
My brother frowned. "I do, but I would not expect them to forgive me nor have I asked."
"Why have you not asked?" Toke questioned.
"Because I haven't gotten around to it," Phelan grumbled.
Toke slowly nodded. "You only have so much time to make amends, Grandson."
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, preferring to stare straight ahead at the fields where the cows had congregated at the furthest corner.
I studied Phelan in silence, wondering what sort of life he would have had in Skyderhelm. Mostly I wondered if Phelan could have been happy, his life void of the hardships he'd endured with my disappearance.
No matter what, I wanted my brother to live a peaceful, joyful life, one that he seemed to think he was incapable of living.
I wanted him to build a relationship with Marco and ask his son to forgive him for his absence. I wanted him to find love and start a family–or at least allow himself to be with someone and be loved even if there were no children in their future.
There was no doubt in my mind that Lan was capable of providing a good, stable and loving home for someone like Gertie Leach, and I was inclined to think Julia would agree.
Perhaps with a bit of mutual persuasion…
"Why are you staring at me like that, Kire?" Lan gruffly questioned.
I blinked at him, realizing I was swept away in daydreams regarding the future romance I had in store for my older brother.
Clearly Julia's investment in matchmaking had rubbed off on me.
"I…I was thinking."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing that concerns you," I assured him.
Lan narrowed his eyes. "Nothing indeed."
He started to speak again, but the back door opened and Hilda appeared.
"Come inside, boys," she said.
Toke entered first with Phelan behind him. Reaching out, Hilda stopped my brother and placed both of her hands in his.
"Min Elskede," she said. "Jeg elsker dig." My beloved. I love you.
Phelan bent forward, took her face in his hands, and kissed her forehead. "Jeg elsker dig mere." I love you more.
oOo
It was a good meal despite dinner being served at four in the afternoon and Hilda's initial protest that she didn't want help making the food.
Hilda and Myrna did not have any inclination to address one another, but Toke insisted on speaking to Bodil.
"What did you think of your brothers performing this afternoon?" Toke asked her.
"They were outstanding," Bodil answered. "I've attended a few performances of Erik's work, but no one plays the music of E.M. Kire quite like the man himself."
"Where have you attended performances?" Phelan asked.
"Twice in Paris," Bodil answered. She squinted as she spoke. "Another performance in Copenhagen that I saw by chance with Gran, and one summer concert series in Flensburg last year featuring a large selection of your symphonies."
"Germany?"
Bodil nodded.
"How was it?" I asked.
"Lovely," she answered. "Although I do remember the organizer saying it was a shame you were not in attendance."
I recalled being invited to the outdoor performance with an incentive of the best accommodations, dining and a private train car to and from the city as well as a generous offer of two thousand Deutsche marks if I would give a brief speech before the festivities.
Naturally, I had declined their offer. Once the performances at the Golden Palace were complete, I would consider future invitations from other opera houses, perhaps taking Julia and the children or allowing Julia to spend time with our newest addition while I took Alex and Lisette for a brief holiday–with Julia's permission, of course. Lisette in particular I thought would enjoy traveling to Lyon or other cities within a few hours of Paris to see an opera.
"When is your next opera debuting?" Myrna asked.
I was surprised by her question, as was everyone else at the table.
"Midnight Serenade at the Lake debuted about two months ago. That is my most recent opera."
"Is that different from Midnight Serenade?" Myrna asked.
"No, that's the same opera. There was a misprint on the programs that left the title shortened," I replied.
"Midnight Serenade?" Lan questioned. "I haven't heard of that one."
"It debuted for a week in Paris," I said. With everything that had transpired since the end of March, the newest opera being performed had not been at the forefront of my thoughts, and the opportunity to see it performed had slipped past me, as had all other opportunities to see my own work. "I believe it is set to premiere in New York starting in January."
"Are you planning to attend?" Bodil asked.
"To New York? No."
"Why not?" she asked.
"I have other duties to attend to at home," I answered.
"What are the names of your other operas?" Toke asked me.
Phelan looked quite expectantly at me, his gaze filled with eagerness that reminded me of Alex when he knew the answer to a question, but had not yet been called upon by Charles.
"Lan, would you care to tell them?" I asked.
"If you insist, Kire."
"By all means."
Lan took a deep breath. "Mauro and Jewel, which was formerly called On Summers Nights."
"Formerly?" Bodil asked.
"On Summers Night was retired and the ending reworked, but there were two or three performances, so technically it counts, right, Kire?" Lan asked.
"Yes," I agreed. "There were several changes throughout."
"Then there is The Fox Pursues, Margarite, The Soldier and the Shell, and North Star. In that order. And now Midnight Serenade, which I have not yet had the pleasure of seeing performed. Yet."
Lan could not have appeared more proud of himself listing all of my operas in chronological order.
"Does that count as six or seven?" Bodil asked.
"I consider it seven as transforming On Summers Night to Mauro and Jewel took me nearly as long as it does to write an opera from start to finish."
"Midnight Serenade was good," Bodil said.
Phelan and I both looked at her at the same time.
"You saw it?" I asked.
"Yes, opening night," she answered.
"You attended opening night?" Phelan asked, sounding quite astounded and perhaps a bit jealous. "Were you in Paris to see the opera?"
"No, I was in Paris for multiple reasons. For one, I had a chocolate making class at Stohrer in the morning, learned to make their famous tarte au citron in the afternoon, and attended the opera in the evening."
I wanted to ask more about the chocolate making class, but Phelan interrupted my question regarding sweets to ask what Bodil thought of the production.
"The music for the ballet in the first and second acts was beautiful," Bodil said.
Phelan nodded. "He does write a good ballet."
Bodil regarded our brother with a smile. "You are quite proud of Erik, aren't you?"
"I am. I have quite enjoyed all of the music I've heard him compose and will be certain to see when this newest opera debuts near me in Brussels."
"Perhaps a holiday to New York is in the future so that you can hear his newest Opera sooner than later," Bodil suggested. "The entire first act is worth the trip alone."
"The aria in the third act was my favorite," Myrna said quietly.
"You were there as well?" I asked, surprised by her comment.
She nodded. "We purchased tickets months in advance."
Out of all of the conversations I expected to have with my family, discussing my operas was not at all what I had imagined. I found myself quite taken aback by their praise of my work and Phelan's eagerness to show how well he knew my work.
"How was the tarte au citron?" Toke asked as we finished our meal.
Bodil issued our grandfather a peculiar look. "Good. Very fluffy, actually, but I have yet to recreate it here in Skyderhelm successfully."
Toke sat back and crossed his arms. "Do you know why that is?" he asked, stroking his chin.
"I do not. Do you?" Bodil asked, seemingly amused by Toke's display.
"Yes," Toke replied. "You need the best cream around. Do you know who has the best cream in this area?"
Bodil smiled inwardly. "I am assuming you are about to say Ostergaard Dairy?"
Toke chuckled quite loudly. "Yes, yes, it is our dairy. Now, agree to purchasing cream and butter from us for the next six months. It will be the best you've ever had for your baking."
Bodil nodded. "I will consider it, Herr Ostergaard."