Because of Lauren: A Love Story

by Vivi Underwood

  “Yes. Jonas is a remarkable man.” He sighed. “I just wish . . .”

  “Shh, none of that. Give him some time. And some credit.”

  “I’ll try. But I hate the thought of Lauren moving so far away from us,” he grumbled. “I want them here for Sunday dinners, I want us to spend holidays together, I want . . .”

  “Her to live her own life,” his wife interrupted. “And in all honesty, she hasn’t been around all that much the last few years.”

  “She always comes home for Christmas.”

  Lilly looked at her husband with affection. Jonathan adored Christmas and liked having the family together during the holiday season. “Yes, she does. That could be a challenge in the future. We’ll have to work on that one.” She gave his cheek a gentle pat. “Now, stop grumbling.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Was I grumbling?”

  Lilly laughed softly. “It must have been another man’s voice I heard.”

  “Huh!” was Jonathan’s only comment.

  “And whatever you do, don’t tell them you object to Lauren moving so far away. They’ll have enough challenges without us adding to them.”

  “Don’t you mind?”

  “Of course, I mind, but I don’t want them to know that.” Lilly sighed. “Ironic, isn’t it? Our grandchildren will have the life I was forced to leave behind.”

  Jonathan’s arms came around her in a comforting hug. “You can visit as often as you’d like.”

  “I know. I’m just sentimental. And foolish.”

  “You are never foolish,” he said and kissed her.

  That evening, after returning home from spending a few enjoyable hours with Lauren’s parents, Jonas and Lauren settled in the family room on the lower level of the house for a little alone time. It had been a long day, and their conversation was desultory at best when Lauren said, “Jonas, I’ve been thinking.”

  He gave her a half-teasing look. “That could be dangerous.”

  She punched him playfully. “I’m serious!”

  “You usually are when you are thinking.”

  “Do you know what I believe?”

  He nuzzled her gently. “Surprise me?”

  Lauren had been pondering their experiences on Temple Square that day. Thoughtfully, her father had called ahead and made arrangements for a Norwegian-speaking guide. She remembered the look of pleased surprise on Jonas’ face when they entered through the open gates and were greeted by a young woman speaking in the soft dialect of Norway’s Southland.

  As they toured the grounds, Lauren listened as the two of them talked about the gospel in their native tongue, and was struck by how comfortable Jonas was with the subject, as though he had always known some of the things they were discussing. It started her thinking and stayed with her for the rest of the day.

  Now she said, “I believe you were being raised LDS, at least while your father was alive. I believe your grandmother, as far as she was able, took over where he left off.” Her voice softening, she added, “And then Heavenly Father kept you safe until we found each other.”

  Startled, Jonas stroked her hair absently, contemplating her words. Was it possible? He tried to remember what his life had been like before the death of his father, but the memories were so dim. Finally, he said, “There is only one way to find out if you are right. We’ll ask my mother.”

  “We’ll make time when she is here for the wedding.”

  “No, before the wedding,” he insisted.

  “Jonas, I’m working all next week,” Lauren reminded him.

  “And I’ll be tied up with Jake most of the week. But the weekend should work. We’ll take the company plane. It’s less hassle than flying commercial, and you’ll be back in time for the movers.”

  Lauren swallowed. She had forgotten she was marrying a wealthy man. “Do you often fly private?”

  “From time to time. Jake uses the plane regularly, though. That way he can fly out in the morning, take care of business, and still get home to his family and church responsibilities at night. I sometimes use it when I’m in the States on business. In Europe, I generally fly commercial.”

  “I’m struggling a bit here, Jonas. It’s going to take me a while to get used to the fact that you have access to a private plane.”

  He smiled. “Take your time.”

  “Easy for you to say. I keep forgetting I am marrying a wealthy man.”

  Jonas looked at her and shook his head slowly. There was no one like Lauren. He knew his mother was going to love her. He captured her face in both hands and looked at her for several moments. “Don’t ever change,” he said softly and let his kiss do the rest of the talking.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Oslo was cool and drizzly. “What happened to summer?” Lauren wondered as they exited the airport.

  “Taking a few off days,” Jonas guessed. “It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow.”

  “I hope so because I didn’t pack for forty-degree weather.”

  “We’ll buy you a coat if necessary.”

  A rental car was waiting for them. Lauren was glad Jonas was doing the driving. She had always found Oslo a difficult city to navigate, but then she hadn’t grown up here as Jonas had.

  “What part of Oslo does your mother live in?” Lauren wanted to know.

  “Some miles south, on the south-east side of the Oslo Fjord. I think you’ll like the area.”

  “Is that where you grew up?”

  “No, I grew up in Ski, a little further inland, in the townhouse my parents purchased at the time of their marriage. They were in the process of building a new home when my father passed away. They had already purchased the lot and had architectural plans ready to go, but my mother couldn’t face building the house without him, so we remained in the townhouse. It was a good place to grow up, kind of semi-rural at the time, with plenty of space for a boy to roam.”

  “And with a detached garage,” Lauren added softly.

  Jonas turned in surprise. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “You told me. That day on the boat when you talked about your mother and the death of your father. Because it was raining, he dropped you at the front door before putting the car away.”

  He reached for her hand. “That’s right, he did. It was the last time I saw him alive.”

  “Will you take me to see where you grew up, Jonas?”

  “Of course.”

  They drove in silence until Jonas turned onto a graveled road that sloped gently toward the water. Before long he pulled into a courtyard and stopped in front of a long, low, wooden house. The only concession to charm were the pots of flowers blooming profusely by the front step and the brightly-painted front door.

  Seeing the look on Lauren’s face, Jonas grinned and said, “Wait and see.”

  As they exited the car, the front door was flung open, and an exuberant woman with short brown hair and laughing eyes rushed to greet them. After a quick hug for Jonas, she took hold of both of Lauren’s hands and unapologetically studied her from top to toe.

  “She is lovely, Jonas,” she said warmly, “and she has beautiful, kind eyes. Welcome, Lauren. I am so happy to meet you.”

  Lauren was touched by the generous words and the warm welcome. “Thank you. And thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”

  Jonas watched their interaction and when he could get a word in, put an arm around Lauren and said, “Lauren, this is my mother, Cecilie Juul-Moberg. And as you have gathered, Mom, this is Lauren. Isn’t she wonderful?”

  The look in her son’s eyes made Cecilie’s face soften. “Yes, Jonas,” she replied. “She is.”

  Lauren knew she was going to love Jonas’ mother.

  “I’m afraid Jan-Erik won’t be here for a while yet. He is so looking forward to seeing you both, especially after the impressio
n you made on his brother,” Cecilie said.

  Seeing Lauren’s puzzled look, Jonas added with a smile, “The ambassador. He is Jan-Erik’s brother.”

  “Oh, of course,” she laughed softly. “Sorry, the connection escaped me for a moment.”

  “Well, come in out of the mist,” Jonas’ mother encouraged as she herded them both inside. “We’ll get your luggage later.”

  Stepping across the threshold, all Lauren’s preconceived notions about the house flew out the window. A surprisingly large, bright foyer opened to a beautiful dining area and a modern, open kitchen that overlooked the open living room a few steps down. Surrounded by tall windows, the room had a light, airy feel even on this somewhat gloomy day. Still another couple of steps down, the bottom level revealed an office/den and patio doors leading out to an oversized slate terrace. Because of the open interior with its tall windows and high ceilings, the house offered an unobstructed, panoramic view from the foyer all the way down to the lowest level and the Oslo Fjord beyond. Lauren had never seen such an unusual home. Its design took advantage of the slope of the land in the most creative way imaginable. And to think the entry side gave the illusion of a windowless cottage!

  “Like it?” Jonas asked.

  “Love it!” She turned to Jonas’ mother. “Did you design this house?”

  Cecilie led them down to the living room where they could relax after their long flight. When they were seated, she said, “No, we got it by a fluke. Friends of friends of ours told us about it. A relative was in the Foreign Service and being posted to Thailand. He wanted to sell the house before leaving, so we put an offer in immediately and were lucky enough to get it. We haven’t regretted it for a minute.”

  “I can see why,” said Lauren warmly.

  Cecilie looked at the two of them seated cozily together on the sofa. Jonas was happy. There was contentment in his features and love in his eyes when he looked at Lauren. “Are you tired after the long flight, Lauren? I’ll understand if you’d like to rest for a while.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she assured Cecilie. “I slept for three hours coming over. I was so exhausted from an impossibly busy work-week, I couldn’t stay awake. Jonas let me sleep while he worked his way across most of the Atlantic.” She looked at Jonas. “Do you want to catch a nap, Jonas? I’ll be fine with your mother.”

  His arm tightened around her. “I’m okay for now.”

  “How about something to drink, Lauren? Jonas doesn’t care for coffee, but I have hot chocolate. Or tea if you prefer. It’s such a gloomy day I thought it might help warm you up.”

  “Hot chocolate sounds very nice. Thank you.”

  “Let me get the tray. Then you can tell me why the two of you came all this way to see me, so close to the wedding.”

  Lauren admired the pretty way Jonas’ mother set out the hot chocolate, in china cups and saucers with dainty silver spoons for stirring. She topped off each cup with a dollop of whipped cream and included a plate of biscuits and small cakes. It took the gloom right out of the day.

  They talked companionably about the upcoming wedding, and about Lauren and her family. Eventually, Cecilie returned to the topic of their sudden, unexpected visit.

  Jonas got right to the point. “I would like to know about our life when Dad was still alive.”

  Seeing his mother’s blank look, he explained, “I remember almost nothing from my early childhood with him. Will you tell me about it?”

  Cecilie was puzzled. Her son had been such a happy child, there should have been memories. He’d had good friends. He’d been close to extended family and especially close to his father. How could he have forgotten?

  She thought back upon her own life and tried to remember herself at seven. She remembered starting school, her best friend, Siri, and the house where she lived. But not much else. It wasn’t something she had spent a lot of time thinking about over the years, but then she hadn’t lost her father at an early age, as Jonas had.

  She let her mind wander back almost thirty years, to that painful, heartbreaking time following her husband’s death. Her little boy was so lost. Her heart ached for him, but no matter how hard she tried, some days, he wouldn’t be comforted. She remembered an especially traumatic episode shortly after Joachim’s death and suddenly understood the reason her son had made this unscheduled trip across the Atlantic so close to his wedding day. Her eyes rested on her son for a long moment, but it was Lauren she addressed when she finally spoke.

  “Are you by any chance a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Lauren? I wondered, when Jonas told me the wedding would take place in Salt Lake City.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Cecilie nodded her head thoughtfully. “Did you know that, Jonas? Before you met?”

  He looked at Lauren. “No, not at first.”

  “When you found out, how did you react?”

  Lauren felt his arm tighten around her. “I knew I had finally found the girl I had spent almost half my life looking for.” He shook his head. “The timing couldn’t have been worse, though. I was scheduled to leave for the conference in Lisbon a few days later and found myself resenting having to go. I wanted to spend that time with Lauren, to give her a chance to get to know me. I couldn’t lose her, Mom.”

  Cecilie looked at her son and felt pangs of regret because of the decision she’d made so many years before. She sighed deeply. “I have done you a great injustice, Jonas. I’ll tell you what I think you want to know. The piece of your childhood I believe you are looking for.” She settled back in her chair as though preparing for a difficult task. Then she began.

  “You already know what a devoted husband and father Joachim was. He was also a man of deep faith. Sunday was reserved for church and from the time you were a toddler, you attended services with him.” Cecilie smiled as memories filled her mind, precious memories from long ago. “You had a ritual. Every Sunday, holding your father’s hand as you walked out the door, you turned and waved goodbye to me. Then the two of you got in the car and happily drove off to church.” Cecilie smiled. “You were best buddies, you used to say, and your favorite time of day was the moment your father walked through the door after work. As you grew, in addition to the usual father/son things you enjoyed doing together, he taught you to be the kind, thoughtful, honest, and honorable person you have always been.”

  His face still and grave, Jonas listened attentively as though this was all new to him. Cecilie wondered what he was thinking and again wondered why he remembered so little from his early years when there should have been so many memories.

  She leaned over and briefly covered his hand with her own. “You were seven when your father began preparing you to be baptized. You used to love sitting next to him as he taught you, asking question after question. He was so patient with you, so tender, as he explained things in terms easy for you to understand. He told me it was important that you understood what being baptized meant because, in the end, he wanted the choice to be yours. Then suddenly, he was gone.”

  Jonas was quiet a long time, pondering all his mother had told him.

  Lauren ached for him. His father had been a far greater influence in his early life than he had realized, and it explained so much about him. She wanted to speak, to ask questions, she had so many. But this was a time for Jonas and his mother.

  Eventually, he said, “If you knew all that, why would you not take me to church after he died? Why enroll me in a Lutheran Sunday school when I was so obviously being raised in my father’s faith?”

  His mother’s face carried traces of regret as she explained. “I thought life would be easier for you as a Lutheran. People were not always tolerant of other faiths, even teachers could sometimes be thoughtless. With your father gone, there was no one to protect you.”

  Jonas looked at his mother. A trace of skepticism colored his voice. “Couldn’t you have
protected me, Mother? Or were you being overprotective?”

  Cecilie looked at him helplessly. “I may have been a little overprotective,” she conceded. “But I thought I was doing the right thing for you, that I was protecting you. You were so young. I didn’t think you would know the difference or that it would matter.”

  Again, Jonas was quiet, though his face showed deep emotion. No one spoke. Finally, after a long time, in a low, pain-filled voice, he said, “I cried, didn’t I, Mother? I cried when you refused to take me to church.”

  Cecilie nodded. Her eyes held pain as well as regret. “Heartrending sobs. You said your teacher would miss you and everyone would wonder where you were. Just once, you pleaded, so you could explain to them. And still, I refused.” She saw her son’s agonized expression and said, “I’m sorry, Jonas. I was wrong. I should have taken you.”

  Jonas pulled Lauren into his arms and buried his face against her hair. “I remember,” he whispered eventually. “I remember crying. I wanted to go where I knew they loved me. I wanted to tell them my father had died and couldn’t come anymore. And my mother didn’t understand. I remember, Lauren!”

  Lauren held him while tenderly stroking his face and hair. Cecilie watched in awe and didn’t speak a single word. Never had she beheld such display of pure love. It was obvious that Lauren understood what this meant to him, while she, his mother, did not. But she understood two things very clearly: Jonas and Lauren were as one, and she had failed her son all those years ago. She also understood one additional thing. With Lauren’s help, he had found his way back to his beginnings, back to the faith of his father. Jonas was right, she hadn’t understood the importance of it all those years ago, and she didn’t understand it now. But one thing was very clear: It meant everything to her son.

  She remained silent and contemplative, while Jonas strove for composure. No one spoke until he finally said, “Thank you, Mother. Thank you for being honest with me. I know you are puzzled. I know there are things you don’t understand. Someday I’d like to explain them to you. And despite what happened all those years ago, you are and always have been the most wonderful, caring mother.”