by Kris Tualla
The one making tea added, “Two days before that he heroically led a group of men up the side of Riva Ridge for a surprise attack on German forces.”
“That made the Allied victory possible.”
Kyle looked from one to the other, grasping at any straw of hope. “And you’re sure it was Tor who died?”
The officer on the couch reached into his pocket and handed Kyle her husband’s dog tags.
Fresh sobs overtook her.
Oh Tor.
Not Tor.
Please not Tor.
But it was Tor, no matter how hard she tried to will it not to be. She pressed one hand against her womb.
My poor baby…
You’ll never meet your father…
The tea kettle whistled, pulling her attention back to her visitors. She looked from one to the other, not caring what they thought of her still-flowing tears.
“What happens now?”
“Your husband’s remains are being shipped here, to Minneapolis. We can arrange for him to be buried in the Veteran’s Cemetery with a military ceremony.”
The tea officer set a steaming cup on the coffee table. “It’s offered at no charge to military families. Unless you have other plans?”
Other plans? Why would she have other plans?
I never planned for this.
Kyle stared at the steeping tea while her thoughts whirled and tangled.
Her first thought was maybe she should have the Army send Tor’s body back to his parents so he could be buried at home. His deep love for his homeland was one thing she always admired about him.
As if in response to that thought her baby moved with sudden force, and she knew in that instant that Tor needed to be buried nearby. Their child needed a grave to visit.
So do I.
“Yes. Do that.”
The men sat with her while she drank her tea without tasting it. Even though they didn’t say anything, just having them there was admittedly comforting. It kept her from going mad with shock and grief.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” the tea officer asked when she set the empty cup back on the table.
“My parents, I think.”
Kyle couldn’t imagine saying the terrible words out loud at all, much less hear her mother or father’s initial stunned reaction to Tor’s death. She would gratefully let the bereavement officer make that call.
“Do you have the number?”
Kyle pointed. “It’s next to the telephone.”
While the tea officer made her another cup, the other officer called her parents. Kyle tried not to hear what was said, but she couldn’t help it.
A fresh wave of grief swamped her.
She sobbed into the muffling handkerchief, not wanting her parents to hear her crying.
The officer hung up the phone. “Your father said to tell you that he and your mother are on their way.”
“They’re coming?” Kyle sniffed and dabbed her nose. “Why?”
“I told them that your husband’s service will be in two days, ma’am. And it’s nice to have family around at a time like this.”
Two days?
I’m burying my husband in two days.
Tea man set Kyle’s second cup in front of her. “May I ask when your baby is due?”
Kyle lifted the cup to her lips and mumbled, “Two months.”
“Congratulations, ma’am.”
Her gaze flicked to his. “I served, too. I was a WAC. Second Lieutenant. Stationed at Camp Hale.”
Both officers looked at her differently.
“We weren’t told that. You were discharged?”
“Because of the baby. I’m attending the university here under the G.I. Bill.”
That clearly surprised both of them. “Will you continue?”
She laid her palm over the spot where her baby was currently stretching. “I’m a widow with a child to support. We’ll have to see.”
*****
The bereavement officers stayed another half hour until Kyle finally sent them away. It was time for her to grieve alone.
Before they left, the officer who had the dog tag reached into his coat pocket and handed Kyle an envelope.
“Since you were in the WAC you probably know that every soldier who is sent into active duty is required to write a letter to someone they’re close to, in case the worst happens.”
She did, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly enough to remember.
She reached out her hand. “This is Tor’s?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She set the letter on the coffee table.
It took her an hour to open it. And she only did it then because her parents would be half way to Minneapolis by now and she wanted to read it before they came.
Kyle turned on a lamp to read by, realizing that she was now sitting in the dark. When she unfolded the paper her heart clenched at the sight of Tor’s strong handwriting.
With a sigh of determination, she read her husband’s words.
December 10, 1944
My dearest darling Kyle,
I hope you never read this letter, because if you do that means I am gone. How fervently I’ve prayed that God will allow me to remain with you and our child, not for my sake but for yours. If you’re reading this, then He must have had other plans.
First I want to tell you how to find my family: address your letters to Nikolai or Matilda Hansen, Hansen Hall Road, Arendal, Norway. Whatever you send there will reach them.
As for Teigen, he was traveling with the resistance when I saw him, so write to him at our parents’ address until you hear that he has settled somewhere else.
Do write to them, Kyle, soon and often. I want them to know the amazing woman who won my heart and made what are now the last months of my life so worth living.
And please—take our child to Norway to meet them. Not right after the war of course, but don’t wait too long. Our baby will have Norwegian citizenship because I’m a Norwegian citizen and we were married at the time of my death, so travel is simple from that standpoint.
You will have noticed I am saying our child, not our son. I do know that you may be carrying a precious daughter. Either way, I want you to raise our child to be fearless like you. Because you are fearless, Kyle, even if you don’t realize it.
Now is the time for you to charge.
Take advantage of your Readjustment Act’s benefits. Move to Minneapolis. Get your degree. You have been training for these things for the past year. My battles abroad are done. Yours at home are just beginning.
Don’t let anyone stand in your way. Be victorious.
You will receive a death benefit from the American Army, and if you take our marriage certificate and my death certificate to the Norwegian Embassy you will receive my pension. I don’t know how much this will add up to, but I hope it’s enough for you to do what you need to do.
Last of all, my dearest wife, thank you for loving me. I’ve never been happier or more settled in my life than I have been with you. To say I love you is too weak, because what I feel for you goes so far beyond words.
That said, you are still a young woman, Kyle. You need to marry again. Our child needs a father who is in your home and can provide the steady assurance and protection that every child needs. Find him with my blessings. And then give our baby some brothers and sisters to play with.
It’s so hard to stop writing this letter, because that will be the end of our connection. I don’t know what the afterlife will be like, but if I can watch over you in any way, I will. At least until you marry again.
I can’t say goodbye. I may have died, but my love for you never will.
Tor
Kyle sat in the upholstered chair reading Tor’s letter over and over again. She could hear his voice in her head, speaking these English words with his mixed British-American-Norwegian accent. Then it hit her.
He wrote this in English.
Kyle realized at that moment that Tor
wanted his American-born child to be able to read his final letter someday.
“He will, my love,” Kyle whispered. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She folded the pages carefully and tucked them back inside the envelope.
Chapter
Forty
April 13, 1945
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Kyle’s mother didn’t leave after Tor’s burial. He was even awarded a Silver Star during the ceremony for exceptional bravery.
Kylli was still in the little apartment six weeks later, cooking and cleaning for Kyle while Kyle strove to complete her schoolwork ahead of schedule.
“I never would have asked you to do this, Mamma,” Kyle repeatedly told her. “But I am so glad to have you here.”
Kylli smiled at her daughter as she tucked in the sheets and folded the sleeper sofa. “I would never leave you alone at a time like this.”
Kyle tried to get her mother to sleep in the Murphy bed in the alcove off the living room, but her mother refused saying, “You’ll be uncomfortable enough these next weeks. I’ll be fine on the couch.”
Kylli had been making subtle changes in the apartment as well. The walls now held framed photos from Tor and Kyle’s wedding. Her mother snuck the negatives off to a camera shop and had the black-and-white enlargements printed and framed.
“He was a very handsome man, wasn’t he?” Kylli sighed when she showed her daughter what she’d done. “I hope his son looks like him.”
“Not you, too,” Kyle groaned. “What if it’s a girl?”
Her mother winked at her. “Then I hope she looks like you.”
Kyle wasn’t sure if seeing her husband’s face on a daily basis was helpful or whether it reminded her anew of her loss. Her reaction seemed to depend on her mood which was as changeable as the April weather. This morning she stared into his eyes and felt like he was with her.
Kyle rubbed her lower back which was aching when she woke up. “I’m not sure that bed is much better than the couch.”
Her mother looked at her in that evaluative way mothers have. “When did your back start hurting?”
“I don’t know. In the middle of the night sometime.”
Kylli approached and pressed her palm to Kyle’s belly. “Any contractions?”
“Just the normal ones. But they’re definitely getting stronger.”
As if to prove her words, Kyle’s womb tightened painfully. She put her hand on her mother’s shoulder and breathed deeply until her body relaxed. “Ooh. That was a strong one.”
Kylli returned to her morning clean-up. “Are you sure you should go to class this morning?”
“I have to.” Kyle started gathering her books and folders. “I have to turn in my research paper in psychology so I can at least get a B in that class.”
“I can take it for you,” her mother offered. “Why don’t you rest?”
The offer was more tempting than Kyle wanted to admit., but she couldn’t afford to miss the class time. “Rest? I just got up. I’ll be fine.”
Another contraction squeezed her midsection. Kyle grunted, set her books down, and concentrated on breathing.
She felt a little shift in her belly. Water gushed onto the floor. Kyle’s eyes flew open and she stared at her mother, surprised and terrified at the same time.
“I’m having a baby!”
Kylli already had a towel in her hand. “Yes you are. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
*****
Ten hours later Kyle was in the maternity ward of the University Hospital staring down at the puffy-faced blond-haired baby in her arms. Her son, Thor Solberg Hansen, weighed in at an impressive nine pounds and two ounces and was twenty-two inches long.
Kyle loved him so much that she kept weeping.
Here’s our boy, Tor.
Can you see him?
Kyle had decided to spell her son’s name with an H so Americans would know how to say and he wouldn’t have to correct them his entire life. She was sure Tor would understand.
“Thank you, Tor, for this incredible blessing,” she whispered. “I will never be able to thank you enough.”
Kyle rested as long as she could stand to—three entire days—before checking out of the hospital.
“Doctor says a week,” the nurse scolded.
“I’m a farm girl,” Kyle countered. “I know how all this birth stuff works. My milk came in this morning, so now I’m taking my baby and going home.”
With a huff, the nurse waited for Kyle to settle in the wheelchair and pushed her to the front door of the hospital. Kylli followed with baby Thor in her arms.
Now the adventure begins.
September 9, 1945
Minneapolis, Minnesota
On the first day of the fall semester classes Kyle handed Thor to her roommate Beth when he finished nursing and then buttoned her blouse.
“I have three classes today, so I’ll be gone about five hours,” she said. “If he gets hungry you can make up a little of the formula, and I’ll nurse him when I get back.”
Beth nodded and rested a hand on her three-year-old daughter’s head. “I saw the evaporated milk and Karo syrup on the counter. I’ll boil some water just in case so it’s ready and not too hot if he gets fussy.”
“Thanks so much!” Kyle hefted her books. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck?” Beth giggled, her rosy cheeks squeezing her brown eyes. “You’ve aced every class so far, so I don’t think luck has anything to do with it.”
Kyle would disagree, considering the pompous psychology professor had caved and given her the A she deserved. She kissed the top of Thor’s blonde head and walked out the door of the Victorian duplex.
Once Kyle received Tor’s death benefit she made a decision. She used the money as a down payment and got a low-interest loan through the G.I. Bill to purchase a fifty-year-old duplex near the campus. Then she spent the summer cleaning and repainting both two-bedroom, one-bathroom units.
She easily rented out one side for enough to cover the mortgage payment, and she lived in the other side. And after advertising in the newspaper for a female roommate, free rent in exchange for babysitting, Beth showed up at her door with little Greta in tow.
As she assumed, Kyle wasn’t the only war widow with a child who was trying to survive on a limited income.
The arrangement was working well so far, and Beth was wonderful with Thor. Even Greta kept calling him her baby and fawned over him.
Thor, of course, loved the attention.
Just like his father.
As Kyle walked toward campus, the bright blue sky and balmy breeze pushing her forward, she realized that even though she only had a short time with Tor, he’d completely changed her life. And though the ache of her loss was still raw and prompted inconvenient tears at times, the fog was lifting and she could see forward.
It’s time to send Matilda and Nikolai another picture.
Finding
Norway
The Norsemen’s War
Book 3:
Kyle & Dahl
Kris Tualla
Chapter
One
July 2, 1950
Arendal, Norway
Kyle held five-year-old Thor’s hand as they got off the bus in the town square of Arendal. The two days of travel, flying from Minneapolis to Oslo, spending the night in a hotel, then taking the four-hour bus ride to her late husband’s ancestral home were as exhausting as they were intimidating.
What if they don’t like me?
Little Thor had come through like a champ, fascinated by every aspect of the journey, and his dual citizenship with Norway and America made that part easy.
Kyle furtively looked over the people in the square while the bus driver unloaded their two large suitcases, wondering if Teigen Hansen remembered that he needed to pick her up.
“Thank you,” she said to the driver. “We’ll be fine.”
At least I speak Norsk.
Making this trip was impor
tant to Tor, who in his active-duty survivor’s letter asked Kyle to please stay in contact with his family and bring his son to meet them. The fact that she was full-blooded Norwegian but had never visited her own ancestral land made the journey all the more poignant.
“Where’s my uncle?” Thor asked in English as the bus pulled away from the square.
Kyle wished she’d taught him Norsk, but with completing her bachelor’s degree in psychology at the University of Minnesota and starting her master’s program, she’d been far too busy.
Maybe I should have looked for a roommate who spoke Norwegian.
“He’s on his way,” Kyle said with a confidence she didn’t have. “We’ll just wait right here. Isn’t this a nice town?”
It truly was.
Picturesque and sitting on the island-strewn southern coast of Norway, Arendal was protected from the North Sea by a multitude of rocky outcroppings. Tor explained that being only ninety miles across the sea from Denmark made Arendal the perfect location for his Viking ancestors to settle and later for his family’s long-standing shipping business to thrive.
Kyle heaved a nervous sigh.
What if they don’t like me?
She shaded her eyes from the bright summer sun and scanned the square again. Then she gasped. Her hand pressed against her mouth. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
A ghost was walking toward her.
“Kyle?”
Now that he was close enough she could see his bright green eyes. Not blue, green.
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I just…” Tears blurred her vision. “Tor always said you looked alike.”
Teigen smiled his surprised understanding. “I didn’t think about that. I guess it would be a shock.”
“Mamma?” Thor’s face was twisted in concern. “What’s wrong.”
Kyle quickly wiped her eyes. “Nothing darling. I’m just happy to meet your Uncle Teigen.”
