Time for New Beginnings

by Mette Barfelt

  Bettina was surprised but pleased she hadn’t been against it. You never knew what Mathilde was thinking and how much she could take. She’d already finished half of the sherry. It must be a magic potion if it made her this eager to collaborate.

  “There are new bed linens for the guest rooms in the closet over there.” Mathilde pointed at one of the closets.

  Bettina was curious and went over to open it. There were bed linens in their original packing stacked on top of each other. She grabbed one of the packages and saw that they were made of white Egyptian silk. They were beautiful, and she was glad she hadn’t bought anything yet. She glimpsed a faint hope. Mathilde was more amenable, wasn’t she? Hopefully, they’d become friends, little by little.

  “They’re lovely. Would you like to see how I’ve decorated the guest rooms?”

  Mathilde kept her eyes on the long cloth she was embroidering. Bettina had no idea what she was planning to do with all the tablecloths and pictures she was incessantly working on.

  The glasses slid down her nose. “Not at all. I’m not the least bit interested.”

  Bettina sat in her workroom, finishing the details on the lavender painting, when the doorbell rang. She set the paintbrush aside and took off her overcoat. Then she hurried downstairs to open.

  “Sara, congrats. Come in.” She was glad to see her but taken aback by her colorful outfit.

  “Thanks. I brought some chocolate cake. Your daughter may like it.”

  “Fortunately, Anneli likes everything, and those cinnamon buns of yours were heavenly.” Bettina took her orange fall coat with red zigzag seams.

  “What fun colors you’re wearing,” she said, marveling at her clothes. She had on light purple pants and a matching blouse.

  Sara started to laugh. “I love colors and make my own outfits. Sometimes the combinations are a bit unusual.”

  Bettina smiled. “It’s very refreshing. My style is a little boring. Many of my clothes are light blue. But come with me, I’ll give you a tour.”

  They went from room to room but wisely left her aunt alone. Then they sat in the living room with the cake and a cup of tea.

  “This is a remarkable house,” Sara said. “The guest rooms are exquisite. And your paintings are amazing. Slightly diffuse, but detailed at the same time. Everything looks consistent and exclusive.”

  Bettina appreciated the feedback. “My aunt bought the furniture on the first floor. She has excellent taste. I’ve tried to continue with the same style, but with more colors.” She told her about Mathilde while they ate the cake. “But I’m curious. Tell me about the wedding,” she added at the end.

  Sara beamed and told her about the big event in the Solvik church. Bettina felt excited about her own wedding.

  “This is yummy.” Anneli had come by the living room for a slice of cake.

  “The bread I bought from you was tasty,” Bettina said. “I’ve been thinking. I need bread and rolls for breakfast for the guests. Can I come by early in the morning and pick up a selection?”

  Sara took a sip of tea. “No problem. We start baking cakes around five in the morning, and the bread baker works all night. Frank finishes at dawn, so come by whenever it suits you.”

  “Great, then that’s solved. I’m thinking of serving cookies in the afternoon, but I can easily bake them myself.”

  They went on to planning the website. Sara had designed the website for the bakery, so she knew what she was doing.

  “I suggest you make a guest page where they can leave reviews. It’s free, and also splendid marketing, and it will help you get more guests,” Sara explained.

  “That’s a fantastic idea. I’ve already taken photos of the house and the garden, which I’m planning to upload. I hope to have everything ready in a week’s time.”

  They spent the rest of the evening making the website and uploaded the photos and information that was ready to go. In future, it would be easy to add the remaining photos. They added the option of direct booking on the website and hoped that many would use it. It would free up time, and she’d be able to check the bookings in between other tasks.

  “I couldn’t have done this on my own,” she said at the end. “Preben knows this stuff, but he’s been so busy the last few weeks, I’ve barely seen him. Besides, you’ve given me many ideas that I hadn’t thought of. Thank you!” She hugged Sara.

  “My pleasure. I’d better get going. Life as a newlywed is wonderful. You’ve so much to look forward to.”

  ***

  The only thing Bettina was missing now was towels. The bathrooms had new, white tiles, and she pictured soft bath towels in light blue and sand-colored stripes. It turned out they weren’t easy to find, and after searching in the neighboring towns, she eventually ended up in Oslo. There she found a delightful combination. And in a shop right next to her parked car, she discovered the perfect coffee maker.

  On the way home, she stopped by the café, the restaurant, and the bakery, and left the information about the guesthouse opening. Sara assured her that as long as Vera received an invitation, she’d have a full house.

  She did the same at the grocery store and bought some food while she was there. The next two days, she would be baking. There would be lots of baking to be done, but if she were lucky, many people would show up.

  When she'd unpacked everything, she slumped down on a kitchen chair. Running a guesthouse was a great deal of work, and she hadn’t even started. Luckily, Uncle Herman had built a laundry room in the basement with a washer and dryer. They had more capacity than normal machines and would come in handy when she had lots of bed linens to wash. She’d already washed the linens, so it was time for the towels.

  She put the new coffee maker on the sideboard in the dining room. It felt logical to keep it here, for the guests to help themselves. It had much to choose from, and she wanted to try a cappuccino. While reading the instructions, her daughter came home.

  “Hi, Anneli. How was handball practice?” She waited for a report.

  Her daughter’s face was warm, and she was all fired up. “So much fun. They have an outstanding team and a super coach.”

  Bettina was relieved. This was important to her daughter, and therefore important to her as well. “Good. Does Jane play handball?”

  Anneli nodded and pointed. “That’s quite a machine. Does it make hot chocolate too?”

  “It sure does. I’ll make you one while you change.”

  “Thanks.”

  Later they sat together in the cozy living room. “I think everything is ready for the opening on Sunday,” she said. “The only thing missing is the cookies, which I’m starting on tomorrow.”

  “You’ll have to make heaps of cookies, Mom. Half the town may show up.”

  “Yes, we’d better be prepared. If they don’t eat them all, we’ll have more leftovers.”

  “I like this hot chocolate. What kind of cookies are you making?”

  She finished the rest of her cappuccino. It had a rich flavor, it wouldn’t take long to get used to this machine.

  “I’m thinking of making our favorites. Chocolate chip cookies, brown sticks, and snickerdoodles. They’ll be in the dining room in the afternoon so that the guests can nibble. Or maybe they can be out all day.”

  “Sounds good,” Anneli said and yawned. “It was a tough but terrific practice.”

  “Do you want something to eat before going to bed?”

  She shook her head. “I’m full from dinner. This hot chocolate is a meal in itself.”

  ***

  Bettina had the whole counter full of cookies when she thought of checking her emails. She washed her hands and went into the bedroom where the computer was set up. It was a large room with a king-size bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a small sofa with a table in front. The room would be her private cave for when the house was full of guests and she needed to relax.

  The first bookings had already arrived. A married couple wanted to stay in Hepatica three nights at the end o
f October. The other booking was from someone called Bakkelund, who would like to stay in Windflower. The first name was omitted, but there was a cell phone number there. So no problem. The guest could complete it upon arrival. But she was surprised about the length of the stay, two weeks. And with a possible extension. The guest would arrive as early as next Wednesday, only three days after the opening. She was looking forward to welcoming her first guest, but wondered what they would do in a guesthouse in Solvik for that long…

  5

  Bettina hid a yawn. The last efforts to get all the details in place had been intensive. And she hadn’t even opened the guesthouse yet. She’d spent the day before on all fours, weeding the flowerbeds. Preben had helped her, but it had taken several hours. The flowerbeds were many, and they were large, and this kind of gardening was no fun at all. She felt a growing irritation toward Mathilde. Why couldn’t she get out of bed and weed her own flowerbeds? It was her aunt who had planted them, and she owned half of this. As if that wasn’t enough, she’d heard the ship’s bell chiming in the garden. With her hands full of dirt, she’d had to interrupt her work to cook dinner for Mathilde. She’d wanted to tell her exactly how she felt but had checked herself. It couldn’t be long before she got tired of lying in bed. How much fun could that be?

  At least Preben hadn’t been scolded for his noisy arrivals. But then again, he’d trundled his bike the last few blocks, so as not to bother Mrs. Fredriksen. She almost laughed thinking about it. The neighbors had given him weird looks when he went trundling past, and one of them had even asked if he’d had an engine breakdown.

  She did a last check of the house. The first guests would arrive any minute, and she was excited. She’d met her daughter’s new friend. Jane was a cute girl with red, curly hair and brown eyes. Like Anneli, she’d put her long hair in a ponytail. They’d disappeared to her bedroom, each with a phone in hand.

  “Are you ready?” Preben asked and pulled her closer.

  “As ready as I can be. Are you sure I shouldn’t offer wine?”

  He nodded. “It’s not a cocktail party. And it’s early afternoon, so cookies and coffee are more appropriate. Let them help themselves to coffee. It has so many options that even I, who love coffee, haven’t tried all of them.”

  “Either way, I have this apple cider I found in the basement. It’s refreshing. Did I tell you it’s from a local farm right outside the town center?”

  “Yes, if I hadn’t come by bike I would’ve taken some bottles home.”

  The doorbell rang, and she went to open the door. Outside were Sara and her friend Emmelin, and behind them on the stairs were Magda and her husband, Roald. Right after that, Vera and her sister Harriet appeared in the doorway. Everyone came with flowers, and she hoped there were enough vases.

  “Welcome to the Solvik Guesthouse. But who’s minding your café?” She looked at the sisters, and Vera laughed whole-heartedly, making her whole body move.

  “We closed, and put a note on the door. Everyone wants to see the new guesthouse. Our town has been waiting for lodging for a long time, and now it’s finally open.”

  “How thoughtful of you. Come in, and I’ll show you around.”

  “They usually do that,” Sara whispered. “It’s their way of supporting new businesses.”

  The next hour was spent showing people the house. It was full of people, most of whom she didn’t know.

  “What a fabulous place,” Ricco exclaimed. Following a firm recommendation by Vera, he’d closed his restaurant, and brought his cousin Luca to inspect the new guesthouse.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Bettina said. “Help yourself to coffee and cookies.” She noticed that people were already spreading. Some were in the dining room, some in the living room, and a bunch had found a place in the inviting, and now weed-free, garden.

  “These cookies are delicious,” Sara said after having tried all three. “They’ll be a big hit.”

  “They’re my favorites too,” Bettina said.

  Emmelin came over with a glass of apple cider. “You do know how to decorate.”

  “Thank you. I can’t take all the credit. My aunt has done part of it.”

  “Where is she, by the way?” Magda asked and looked around.

  “She’s staying in the Tower, where she has her own apartment. She’s barricaded herself in bed, and she’s mourning Uncle Herman and life in general, I think.” Bettina thought it best not to sugarcoat it. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

  Suddenly a blonde beauty appeared in the doorway. She went over to say hello. “Bettina Hoff. I’m glad you could make it.”

  The woman was tall and loomed over everyone in her stilettos. Her long, blonde hair was curly, and her eyes were blue. She had a low neckline and a bosom that was barely covered. Ample curves in all the right places and a small waist. The woman was very different from Bettina, who was tall and slim but with dark hair and green eyes.

  “Veronica Ask.” She offered a manicured hand with dark pink nails and many gold rings. “Ah, there you are, Ricco.” She left them to join the Italian.

  Sara gave her a lopsided smile. “I’ll tell you the whole story later. But the short version is that Ricco is my ex-boyfriend, and Veronica is far from the most popular woman in town.”

  She nodded. So there was drama in this small town, too, like so many other places. Or perhaps even more here, where most people knew each other.

  All of a sudden, the loud ship’s bell started chiming. Veronica was on her way over to Ricco but got so startled that she lost her balance on her high heels. She fell onto the oak parquet with a heavy thump. Her long hair spread on the floor like a lighted fountain. Luckily, Ricco was there before Bettina reached her. He helped her up in a moment of chivalry.

  “Oh gosh, what was that?” an older lady, whose name she didn’t remember, asked.

  Bettina was extremely embarrassed and colored fiercely. Her silk blouse was sticking to her back in the warm room filled with way too many people. How could Mathilde think of ringing the bell when the house was full of people? She had to go up to her at once to avoid more ringing, but Preben beat her to it. He’d been in the kitchen to refill the cookie platters.

  “I’ll deal with her,” he said and disappeared before she had time to protest.

  She nodded, grateful, but felt bad. It was time to explain. Everyone was looking at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s my aunt’s sense of humor. She hasn’t recovered from her husband’s funeral and stays in bed these days. She just needs a refill of sherry.”

  Several looked understanding, while others shook their head.

  “I hope she doesn’t scare away the guests with that noise,” Magda said in a serious voice. Her forehead was wrinkled, showing her concern. “You’re going to lose guests if she continues like that.”

  Bettina knew Magda was right. She’d wanted to discuss this with Mathilde, but hadn’t mustered enough courage to do so. She should have, evidently. But she’d never imagined her aunt would pull a stunt like this, today of all days. Didn’t she know how important this day was for both of them? Giving a good impression of the guesthouse was crucial. That was the sole reason for the open house.

  She remembered Veronica and made her way over to see if she had hurt herself. “I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

  Veronica had been placed in a chair with a cup of black coffee in her hand. She shook her head so that the blonde curls bounced around. “I think I sprained my ankle. Yes, I’m pretty sure I did. It would be best if Ricco could take me home.” She looked at him and fluttered her extra-long eyelashes. “Do you have your car outside?”

  Ricco nodded but didn’t look pleased. “I’m sure we can arrange it.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Luca said. “We should open the restaurant.”

  Ricco put his strong arms around the patient and lifted her. Dramatically, she put her arms around his neck and purred like a cat. Bettina watched the show with amusement, then walked them out and
thanked them for coming.

  ***

  Preben opened Mrs. Fredriksen’s door without knocking. He was annoyed at her lack of consideration, especially on such an important day.

  “What’s the problem?” His voice wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but not far from it either.

  She pulled her comforter closer. A pair of yellow earplugs that was supposed to be somewhere else was lying on the bedside table.

  “Don’t take that tone, please. The noise level downstairs is far from acceptable. How am I supposed to rest with that racket?”

  Preben was not blessed with as much patience as his fiancée. He thought Mathilde was tremendously selfish.

  “You do nothing but rest. Did you forget that we have the open house today? The guesthouse is full of people, and you scared them out of their wits with your ship’s bell. A woman was so startled that she fell over and got injured.” He didn’t know this, but it might be true. One shouldn’t mess with stilettos and bottle blondes.

  Mathilde didn’t look the slightest bit concerned. “It is what it is. It’s my house, don’t you forget. In the future, I want Bettina to come when I call.”

  “You should be satisfied if anyone comes at all.” He was discouraged and left the room before she could answer. What cheek! And he was supposed to move here? He shuddered and wondered what he’d agreed to.

  ***

  Harmony returned when Veronica left. Harriet and her sister decided it was time for them to leave and reopen the café. Simultaneously, another car turned into the driveway. A distinguished woman got out of the car, followed by two men.

  “Those are my in-laws and my husband Philip,” Sara said, before lowering her voice. “Nelly isn’t the easiest person to deal with. She has strong opinions, and isn’t afraid of voicing them.”