An Uncommon Family

by Christa Polkinhorn

  At a traffic light, they crossed one of the wide avenues. “Well, this wasn’t the most romantic wedding ceremony,” George said.

  “You can say that,” Nico agreed with a grin. He put his arm around Anna and hugged her. “But we’ll have the real celebration in church once my father and Anna’s mother get here.”

  George and Susan invited them to a fancy restaurant nearby. An elderly hostess greeted them with cool and efficient New York politeness and led them to a reserved alcove. The dark wood paneling and the dim light gave the place an elegant but gloomy and almost ghostlike feeling. The booth, however, was nicely decorated and a bottle of champagne was waiting in the ice bucket. The waiter popped the cork and poured them a glass.

  “Congratulations,” he said, smiling businesslike at Anna.

  “To a long and happy life and lots of children,” Susan said and raised her glass.

  “Let’s wait with the children for a while,” Nico said. He kissed Anna and she felt she was floating on a cloud of happiness.

  Chapter 18

  Jonas applied a few stripes of orange to a painting, which consisted of patches and squares of different shades of brown and white. The picture gave the feeling of a quilt and it was one of a series of abstract paintings for an upcoming exhibition. He stepped back and scrunched up his eyes, then dipped the brush into paint thinner and rubbed his hands.

  The doorbell rang. The clock on the wall showed two o’clock in the afternoon. He wasn’t expecting anybody. He pushed the buzzer, opened the door, and peered over the railing. He saw the top of the head of a woman with brown shoulder-length hair who came up the stairs. Anna? But it wasn’t the day of Karla’s painting lessons and the woman was alone. When she turned her head and looked up, he recognized her.

  “Anna? What a surprise; I didn’t expect you.”

  “I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Anna said as she climbed the last step.

  She was out of breath, her normally pale cheeks showed a healthy glow. “I was in town to run errands and wanted to drop this off.” She was holding up a shopping bag.

  “Well, come on in.” Jonas stepped back. “Want some coffee?”

  “No, unfortunately I don’t have time,” Anna said as she walked into the living room. “I have an appointment in about twenty minutes. I just wanted to give you this. It came in yesterday and I know you like his work.” Anna pulled a large book out of the bag and handed it to him.

  “Wow, this is absolutely gorgeous,” Jonas said. He paged through the book. It was the illuminated edition of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience. “This is great, but I want to pay you for this. This is expensive.”

  Anna shook her head. “No, this is a present . . . for all the things you do for Karla.”

  “Anna, you pay for Karla’s lessons.”

  “So? What you do for her is worth a lot more than money. Besides, you don’t pay for a gift.” She sounded somewhat abrupt. Had he offended her?

  “Thank you very much. I truly appreciate this,” he quickly assured her. “And Karla is doing great, by the way. Her painting has really progressed and she seems happier.”

  “Yes, thank God.” Anna gave a weak smile.

  “You do a lot for her too, Anna. It must not be easy.”

  She shrugged. “I try my best. I guess that’s all anyone can do.” She checked her watch. “But I better hurry or I’ll be late.”

  “Okay, well, thanks again. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” Jonas followed her to the door.

  “See you,” she said as she started to walk down the stairs.

  “Don’t like the elevator either, huh?” he called after her.

  She turned around. “No, it just looks a little . . . well—“

  “Ancient,” Jonas said.

  Anna’s face stretched into a smile. “I know, it’s silly, I’m sure it’s perfectly safe. Anyway, I need the exercise.”

  Jonas went back into his studio, shaking his head. Anna was such a strange bird. One minute she was kind and warm, but at the slightest upset, just like before when he offered to pay for the book, she withdrew into her shell. When she smiled, she looked lovely, almost beautiful.

  He picked up the brush and mixed some paint. Just as he was beginning to work, there was a knock at the door. Jonas rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Now what?”

  “Not her again,” he muttered under his breath as he saw his neighbor through the peephole. He considered not opening the door, but figured she had already heard his footsteps. He sighed and opened the door. Mrs. Schatz was standing outside, a plate in her hands.

  “I made some custard pies, and as usual much too many. I thought you and your lady friend might like some.” Mrs. Schatz looked over his shoulders, scanning the apartment.

  Jonas suppressed a grin. “What lady friend?”

  “Well, you know, the one with the cute little girl.”

  “She isn’t my lady friend. She’s the aunt of the little girl, who is my student. She’s just a friend.”

  “Aha. Oh, well, she seems very nice . . . and she’s attractive, a little younger than you are and—”

  “Yes, Mrs. Matchmaker.” Jonas guffawed.

  “I’m just concerned for your welfare, Mr. Bergman.” Mrs. Schatz lifted her hands.

  “Yes, I know. And thanks for the pie. Much appreciated.”

  Back in his apartment, Jonas shook his head and chuckled. He glanced at Eva’s photo. “She’s such a busybody, but she has a kind heart,” he said to the photo.

  He put the pie on the kitchen table, cut a piece, and tried it. “Excellent. Her husband is a lucky man, at least where her cooking is concerned.” Jonas gave a wistful smile. Talking to myself again. I guess a solitary life does that to you.

  He went back to his studio and worked for about half an hour, finishing the painting. He stepped back and nodded satisfied. He remembered Anna telling him that his paintings had become more cheerful. It was true; a lot of his older paintings were dark and gloomy. I must be feeling happier.

  Jonas put down the brush and walked to the window. He looked over the roofs of the buildings toward the lake. The later afternoon sun refracted from the thin layer of mist on the horizon. It was fall and the time of day when the light was diffuse and lacked strength. Normally, that kind of bland atmosphere made him melancholic, but today he felt joyful.

  He had to admit he enjoyed the company of Karla and her aunt. They brought a special energy and life to his place. He liked Anna, in spite of the fact that she often struck him as distant. He suspected that underneath the hard shell was a loving heart. He saw it when she was with Karla. Her whole being softened and there was a lively gleam in her eyes.

  Something must have happened to her that made her distant and distrustful. He knew Anna had been married but she had never volunteered any details and Jonas didn’t want to pry. He had told her a little bit about Eva but in very general terms.

  Jonas smiled. There was a concert coming up. He would invite Anna. He knew she loved classical music.

  Chapter 19

  Karla pulled Anna’s sleeve. “I think I just sold one,” she whispered. Her face was flushed with excitement and her eyes sparkled.

  Anna and Karla watched as Jonas put a red dot next to one of Karla’s drawings. He scanned the room, searching for Karla, and gave her the thumbs up. A young man—a younger version of Jonas—was standing next to him. Andrew, his son who lived in Denmark, had come for a visit.

  It was a cold, sunny day in December but the forecast was for snow. The city was all decked out for Christmas. The windows of the shops were sprayed with artificial snow, and glittering gold and silver decorations gave the streets a festive atmosphere. The smoky scent of roasted chestnuts from the stands up and down the street and of barbecued sausages filled the air. Salvation Army volunteers were ringing their bells and stamping their feet in the cold, hoping for donations for the less fortunate. White mist curled from their mouths as they sang the familiar hymns.

/>   The children’s art exhibition was a success. The art and stationary store was located on a busy side street off the Bahnhofstrasse, the main shopping area. People walking up and down the street stopped to look at the large colorful posters advertising the event. Some gave the store a cursory glance, smiled, and walked on, but many came inside, out of curiosity and to warm up from the cold.

  The pictures were nicely framed and showed all levels of craftsmanship, from simple pencil drawings to more elaborate pastel, water color, and acrylic paintings. Anna noticed with quiet pride that Karla’s pictures were among the best.

  “They are selling like hotcakes,” Jonas said, pointing at the paintings. He introduced his son to Anna and Karla.

  “Yes,” Andrew said in his deep voice, which reminded Anna of Jonas’s. “Someone almost snatched my favorite away from me. But fortunately my father here distracted him, so I was there first.”

  “Which one did you buy?” Anna asked.

  “The one with the upside-down bird,” Andrew said.

  “That’s mine,” Karla exclaimed. Her facial color deepened.

  Andrew smiled at her. “Great picture. I’ll hang it in my office in Copenhagen.”

  Jonas patted Karla on the head, then walked over to some of the other children.

  “This is so nice of your father to do this,” Anna said. “The children really enjoy it, too, and it sure does a lot for their self-esteem.” She watched as more and more red dots were placed next to the pictures and the smiles on the girls and boys who had created them brightened.

  “I think my father is the one who enjoys the whole thing the most. He’s just like a kid.” Andrew smiled. “He had more fun playing with our toys than we did when we were little. I think he hated to see us grow up.”

  “Well, he does a great job teaching children,” Anna said. “And I’m sure he loves having you here. Are you going to stay for Christmas?”

  Andrew shook his head. “I’m going to spend the holidays with my wife and kids back home. I’m trying to convince Father to join us for Christmas, but he refuses. He doesn’t like the gloom and darkness during the winter months when the days are short. It makes him depressed. He prefers to visit in summer. But I worry about him. I know he’ll be lonely over the holidays and longing for Mother, although he denies it.”

  Karla, who had been listening eagerly, patted Anna’s arm. “He can stay with us over Christmas, can’t he? Oh, please say yes. It would be so much fun having Saint Nicholas for Christmas.”

  “Saint Nicholas?” Andrew smiled and raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a long story.” Anna gave Karla a stern look. “You shouldn’t call him that.”

  “He doesn’t mind; he said so,” Karla said. “Can we ask him?”

  “Yes, of course, but let me ask him. Okay? I don’t want you to nag him about it. He may have other plans or he may prefer to be by himself.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t have other plans,” Andrew said, then stopped talking as Jonas joined them again.

  “Well, the opening is winding down. Everybody has sold something. They’ll leave the rest of the pictures up for a few more days.” Jonas bent down to Karla. “You earned forty francs, my dear.”

  “That much? What am I going to do with all that money?” Karla wrinkled her forehead.

  “Put it in your piggy bank. We’ll find something to do with it.” Anna laughed.

  “I know,” Karla said all excited. “I can buy Christmas presents with it.”

  “There you go. I know exactly what I want.” Andrew winked at Karla, who looked at him with a serious face. “Just kidding.” He grinned.

  “What about a bite to eat?” Jonas slapped Andrew on the back, then turned to Anna. “May I invite you two beautiful ladies for dinner?”

  “We would like to invite you,” Anna said. “For all the work you did.”

  “Sorry, I beat you to it. This is my turn. Do you like fondue?”

  “We love it,” Anna said and Karla nodded with a big smile.

  “Great. It’s Andrew’s favorite Swiss dish,” Jonas said. “And I know just the place for it. Come on.”

  Jonas lightly touched Anna’s elbow and led her up the street. Andrew and Karla followed.

  “You look beautiful today. I like blue on you.” Jonas referred to Anna’s blue coat and hat, which accentuated her blue eyes. When their eyes met, his gaze made her heart stutter a little. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be admired by a man.

  They walked up the Rennweg through the old part of town and descended toward the Limmat River. As they crossed the river on one of the few bridges, an icy wind began to blow down from the lake. Anna dug her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. Her eyes were watering. She turned around and saw that Karla was wearing Andrew’s woolen cap over her own. It was too big for her and covered her face almost to her nose. Karla peeked at Anna from underneath her hat and giggled.

  “Aren’t you cold?” Anna asked Andrew, shivering at the sight of his bare head. Unlike his father’s thick longish mop, his hair was very short.

  “Nah, it’s nothing. I’m used to the cold.” Andrew waved his hand. He removed his woolen scarf and wrapped it around Karla’s neck, took her gloved hand and stuck it into his coat pocket. “Have to make sure the little munchkin doesn’t catch a cold.”

  What a kind young man, Anna thought.

  They had arrived at the other side of the river and walked up a narrow side street of the Limmatquai, the road along the river. Away from the freezing wind, it felt a little warmer.

  “Here we are,” Jonas said. He opened the door to a smallish inn. The smell of cheese was almost overpowering. It was a place which specialized in fondue and raclette, another cheese dish. It was a warm and cozy place with rustic furniture. They sat down at a table near the large tiled stove.

  Waiting for their food, Anna asked Andrew about his plans for the upcoming holidays, waiting for a good opportunity to invite Jonas. She didn’t want to make him feel as if they had discussed it with Andrew beforehand. Karla, of course, didn’t have any such scruples.

  “Would you like to spend Christmas with us, Saint . . . Mr. Bergman?” She turned to Anna and grabbed her arm. “We want him to, don’t we?”

  Anna gave Karla a stern look. “Blabbermouth.”

  Jonas looked puzzled, then chuckled. “I get the impression someone has been a busybody.” He turned to Andrew and raised his eyebrows.

  “Andrew just told us that you aren’t going back to Denmark with him,” Anna said. “So Karla and I thought it would be nice if you spent some time with us. We’re going to be quite lonely on Christmas Eve. It’s just the two of us. Normally some friends celebrate with us. This year, however, everybody has other plans. Anyway, we would be delighted to have you—if you have no other plans, that is.”

  Jonas laughed. “Well, how could I say no to such a charming invitation? My son put you up to this, didn’t he?”

  “No, I swear, the invitation was all Anna’s idea.” Andrew raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

  “Aha. Sure. That’s all right.” Jonas grinned. “I appreciate your concern.”

  After dinner, Karla and Anna took the train home. Karla was tired from all the excitement, the food, and the late hour, and was halfway asleep. Anna put her arm around her. She smiled as she thought about the pleasant evening. Jonas and his son had been very charming and Anna had enjoyed Jonas’s surreptitious admiring glances.

  Chapter 20

  Jonas put the teakettle on the stove. He measured a few teaspoons of black tea into the teapot. As much as he liked cheese fondue, it always made him feel stuffed afterward and tea seemed to help. He hung his jacket, which still smelled of cheese, on the balcony. Andrew had gone out for a few hours with a friend of his.

  Jonas stood by the window, waiting for the water to boil. Outside, it had begun to snow. Small flakes danced in front of the window, shimmering in the light of the street lamps. Down below, people were doing their last-m
inute shopping at the small grocery store across the street. Next to it was a flower shop. A man about Jonas’s age came out, carrying a bouquet of roses. He walked up the narrow street, holding the roses carefully with one hand while clutching the collar of his winter coat with the other. Jonas looked after him with a wistful half smile. Flowers for his wife . . . or girlfriend.

  The teakettle whistled and Jonas poured the hot water into the teapot and let it steep. He sat down on the sofa in the living room, propped up his feet on the coffee table, and relaxed. The student exhibition had been a success. Jonas smiled, thinking of the excited faces of the kids. He was glad he had invited Anna and Karla for dinner. They were such good company.

  He better think about buying a few presents for Anna and Karla, now that he was invited for Christmas. He had given Andrew some gifts for his wife and children to take along. He had sent a check to Gita, his daughter, who had lived in California for a year, studying acting. She had found a boyfriend but they didn’t seem in any hurry to tie the knot. Jonas shrugged his shoulders. Gita had inherited Eva’s love of the stage as well as her independent spirit.

  Jonas went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. Back in the living room, he pulled a photo album from the bookshelf. The invitation from Anna for Christmas Eve brought back memories of the Christmas celebrations in Denmark, when he and the family visited his parents. Jonas’s parents lived in a beautiful old house in a small town near Aarhus, near the eastern seacoast of Denmark.

  After retiring from his job, Jonas’s father and mother had decided to move to Denmark, so his father could be closer to his parents, who were getting on in years and needed help occasionally. Jonas’s mother, who was Swiss but had always loved Denmark, didn’t mind the move.

  Back home, Jonas’s father devoted himself to his old passion of woodwork and carpentry again. He had made almost all the furniture in the house by himself over the years. The house was featured in one of the home-and-garden magazines as a model of Danish interior decoration.