A Song of Joy

by Lauraine Snelling

  When they rose from the dinner table, Jeffrey headed for the kitchen, and Nilda smiled at Ivar and Bjorn. “How about we go outside and give you some lessons in badminton? Unless you’ve played that before.”

  “We played croquet last time we were here.” Bjorn spoke for the first time since the introductions.

  Good, he is more comfortable now. That was one of the most uncomfortable meals I’ve had in this house. “Come on, we’ll play with partners. You with me and Ivar with Fritz.” She showed them how to hold the racket, and the four of them moved to their sides of the net. “The goal is to return the shuttlecock across the net within the lines and try to place it where your opponent can’t return it.” She tapped the bird over the net to Fritz, and he returned it. They batted it back and forth a couple of times until he missed and she received a point.

  “It looks easy, but it isn’t. We’ll just practice for a time with Fritz and me coaching you.”

  The first time the bird crossed the net four times before Ivar missed it, earning clapping and cheering.

  “See? You’re getting it.”

  Bjorn wiped sweat from his brow. “Ivar makes me run all over the court.”

  “That’s the point.” Nilda grinned at him. “You know, this is a game you could play out at the farm. You don’t need a lawn.”

  “As if we ever have time to play like this,” Bjorn muttered, tapping his racket on his other hand. “Come on, Uncle, let’s go again.”

  “Now, Bjorn, watch your temper.” Ivar wiggled his eyebrows.

  Nilda glanced at the sidelines, where Jeffrey was pacing. “Fritz, why don’t you and Ivar go play a game of croquet and let me work with Bjorn.”

  Fritz looked at Ivar, and they both shrugged. “Come on, Jeffrey, how about a game of croquet?”

  Nilda noticed immediately that Jeffrey’s nod was forced. That wasn’t what he wanted, but he chose to be polite.

  “Come on, Aunt Gertrude, you play too.” Fritz waved at Mrs. Schoenleber, and Jeffrey almost covered up his look of shock when she accepted.

  Nilda returned to coaching Bjorn. “I did this to help me get better at it.” She held her racket flat and bounced the shuttlecock on it. Handing him a shuttlecock, they both bounced theirs, getting them higher and higher.

  She kept one eye on the croquet game. She looked over just in time to see Jeffrey put his foot on the ball with the red stripe and knock the blue one into a flower bed. Jeffrey chortled, Fritz nodded, and Mrs. Schoenleber tapped her yellow ball through the wickets to just miss the final stick. On the next turn, her ball tapped the post.

  “Wait a minute, how did you get so far?” Jeffrey stared at her.

  “I just let you two play against each other, and I drove for the goal post.” She slid her mallet back in the stand. “I think it is time for something cold to drink.”

  Nilda bit her bottom lip and looked at Bjorn, who coughed to hide his laugh. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

  He nodded, not daring to talk yet.

  When the others arrived for the social, Nilda performed the introductions and saw Lucinda’s eyes light up when she met Jeffrey. “I’ve seen you at a few functions in Minneapolis, but I’ve not met you before.”

  “Then I am doubly glad to meet you now, Miss Wall. Where do you live in the Twin Cities?”

  “Southeast of St. Paul. At least, that is where our house is, but after my stay here, Mother and I are going to France for a month or perhaps more. We stay at her family’s château in Provence. That is where she grew up.”

  “You do this every year?” And then Jeffrey said something in French.

  Smiling, Lucinda replied in rapid French.

  Why did this irritate Nilda? She realized it was because it was not polite to use a language not everyone in the room knew. It was, well, hoity-toity, like putting “Esquire” after your name.

  When Petter arrived, Nilda introduced him around. She realized with relief that there was no sign of that Mr. Galt. Maybe he had gathered all his interviews and was leaving town. Maybe.

  After Petter visited with Ivar and Bjorn for a few minutes, she called for everyone’s attention. “Let’s see hands. Who would rather play badminton? We have two courts, so eight people can play. Then we also have two courts for croquet, one in the front yard. So, badminton?”

  Olivia raised her hand, and Nilda nudged Petter to raise his as well.

  “Sure. We can play the next game of croquet.” Petter turned to Mrs. Schoenleber. “Do you and Miss Jane want to play with us?”

  “I will,” Miss Walstead said. “Come on, Gertrude, you can play croquet later.”

  Mrs. Schoenleber smiled at Petter. “You both promise to take pity on two old ladies?”

  Nilda choked. “Be careful what you agree to, Petter. Some people have more skill than is apparent, and they are dangerous.”

  With everyone laughing, the games began, with the agreement that the winners of both croquet games would meet in another match after. As soon as Jeffrey chose which court he was playing on, Nilda chose the other, making sure Lucinda played against Jeffrey.

  After the first round, everyone gathered around the tables for lemonade and iced tea that Cook had at the ready, in addition to crackers and cheese, as well as cookies for those who would rather. Petter and Olivia kept looking at the two older women and shaking their heads.

  “I warned you,” Nilda said, laughing.

  “But we’re not playing again,” Miss Walstead said, wiping her brow. “We’ll cheer for the croquet match.”

  The next game was for the three on each side with the lesser scores. Then everyone gathered around for the final round with the two teams of three leading scorers from the first game. Jeffrey, Ivar, and Lucinda were on one side, and Fritz, Nilda, and Bjorn were on the other.

  “Now, remember,” Mrs. Schoenleber cautioned, “this is just a game.”

  While everyone nodded, Nilda wasn’t too sure about that.

  From the first whack of the mallets, the audience cheered and groaned. The players laughed and teased each other, but it was every player for himself. When Lucinda knocked Jeffrey’s ball off the court, she clapped and cheered with all the rest. But while she pretended to pout when it happened to her, she obviously gave it all she had.

  The players to watch, though, were Fritz and Jeffrey. Nilda realized immediately why Mrs. Schoenleber had warned them that it was only a game. Jeffrey reached the halfway post a turn ahead of Fritz. Fritz tried to avoid Jeffrey’s ball as he drove for the stake. His ball went through one hoop but not the second. Then Jeffrey abandoned staying on course to go after Fritz. They actually played two turns behind the halfway stake, trying to avoid each other and hit each other.

  Fritz’s ball hit Jeffrey’s. Fritz mashed his foot onto his ball and drove Jeffrey off the course and into a bush. Jeffrey smiled a totally false smile and two plays later sent Fritz’s ball up against the foundation of the house.

  But while the two of them were focusing on defeating each other, Lucinda, Ivar, Bjorn, and Nilda completed the game. Lucinda’s red ball was the first to tap the goal post, and Ivar was second. Fritz and Jeffrey were so intensely and ridiculously engaged in destroying each other that Nilda was laughing too hard and missed the goal post by a foot. She still came in fourth, and Fritz sent Jeffrey’s ball halfway to Duluth and finished fifth.

  The girls all gathered around Lucinda, clapping and congratulating her. “My father taught me that you keep your eye on the ball and the goal post and let the others worry about knocking each other around.”

  Fritz came over and shook her hand. “That was some game. I’d play on your team any time.”

  Jeffrey rounded up the balls and dropped them into the wooden stand. “Fine game, Lucinda. Did you learn that in France?”

  “Actually, I did. My father always joined us for a month, and that was the only time he ever took to play. We had some killer games through the years, but the first year I defeated him, I felt like I had won
the Olympics.”

  Nilda clapped her hands. “Supper will be served here on the verandah, so we need to clear off so the food can be brought out. Fritz, how about a sing-along while they do that?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  Everyone trooped inside and gathered around the piano. Later, after everyone had filled their plates outside, they found places to sit, and the conversations continued. Dusk was beginning to creep in as the guests thanked their hostess and Nilda saw them out the door. For just a moment, she wished Jeffrey had some other place to go too, but when she returned to the parlor, Fritz was playing, her brother and Bjorn were chatting with Miss Walstead, but Jeffrey and Mrs. Schoenleber were nowhere to be seen.

  “They’re in the library,” Miss Walstead said.

  “Oh.” Nilda wondered what was going on but shrugged instead and went to watch Fritz play.

  Sunday morning she rose early enough to have breakfast with the three men, who were packed and ready to leave.

  “I wish you could stay longer.” She walked them out to their horse and buggy.

  “We sure had a good time yesterday.” Bjorn smiled and swung his carpetbag into the buggy. “Thank you. When will you be coming home again?”

  “I don’t know,” Nilda replied. “Later in August.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “I know. I have a lot to do right now.” She had told them about the housing project and providing books for school libraries.

  She waved as they trotted out the driveway. If only Jeffrey were leaving today too. Wouldn’t it be nice if he could spend the day with Lucinda? She was certainly interested in him.

  Nilda definitely was not.

  Chapter

  20

  I didn’t even get a piano lesson.” Nilda felt like stamping her foot, but good sense prevailed. At least Jeffrey wasn’t beside her right now. Yesterday she’d felt like he was smothering her. All the time, hovering around her, as if he were a lap dog begging for attention. Right now she was grateful for the telephone on her desk. Good thing she’d been in her office just now when the telephone jangled. She rejoiced that it was Fritz.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry we didn’t get a lesson. In fact, I’m sorry we weren’t together more yesterday,” Fritz told her. “Tell you what. How about I return next week on Thursday and stay until Saturday?” He paused. “Jeffrey is leaving this week, right?”

  “Yes.” Thank goodness. Whatever had possessed him to act like he was part of the family, or at least had visited frequently? He’d even alluded to the one and only symphony they had been to as if that were a common event.

  That morning he had attended church with them as if it were a usual part of his Sundays. Something he’d said another time, though, made her sure church attendance was not part of his family’s routine. Besides, how could one stay out at a ball or another social event until the wee hours and then get up to attend church?

  They’d played enough badminton and croquet to last quite some time, and now that supper was finished, he’d said he had some things he had to do and retired to his room. His inquiry regarding tennis courts in Blackduck had been met with a solid no.

  Nilda was just putting her desk in order when a tap at the library door caused her to look up. “Yes?”

  “It’s me. May I come in?”

  She forced some enthusiasm into her voice. “Of course.”

  Jeffrey jiggled the handle. “It’s locked.”

  She rose and went to unlock the door. “Sorry, I never lock it. I wonder how that happened.”

  “I like to go for a walk when dusk is falling. Perhaps you’d like to come along.”

  Not really, but why not. “I’ll tell Mrs. Schoenleber that we’ll be gone for a while.”

  “I already told her.”

  Nilda stared at him. “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I just thought a walk might appeal to you.”

  He headed for the front door, but she stopped him. “No, the path runs behind the house. It’s much more pleasant than the streets.”

  They went out the back door and crossed the lawn where the extra croquet wickets and badminton net had already been taken down.

  “I’d forgotten how big this yard is, and this path was just a trail to the river. Things have changed a lot in Blackduck since I was a boy.” Jeffrey waved an arm. “Aunt’s house was almost out in the country then. Now houses surround hers, and there are a lot more businesses and people in town.”

  “Blackduck is a growing town, at least as long as there are huge pine trees still to cut.”

  “What will you do when the trees are gone?”

  “That depends on Mrs. Schoenleber. If she no longer needs me, I will return to the farm that now belongs to my brother.” Not that any of this is really your business.

  “My father has tried to persuade his sister to move closer to the head offices so he can help her if she needs any.”

  “Really.” As if Mrs. Schoenleber needed help. “He would take her away from all her close friends and social contacts?”

  “Oh, she would make other friends and social contacts, I’m sure.”

  The breezy way he brushed off Jane Walstead and Thor Haglund and all of Mrs. Schoenleber’s other lovely and influential friends irritated Nilda. Obviously, none of that was important to him.

  He frowned. “Isn’t this the path where you were attacked?”

  His question caught her by surprise. “Yes, why?”

  “I just thought that might make you hesitant to walk out here.”

  “That was months ago, and the land isn’t at fault.” She paused where the path intersected with one that ran along the riverbank. They stopped and looked out across the river. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

  “It’s hard to believe the number of logs that are shipped down this river every year.” He swatted a mosquito on his arm. “Better keep moving.”

  Nilda tried to think of something to say to start a casual conversation and could think of nothing. And then she realized she didn’t really care about conversing with him anyway. They returned to the house in uneasy silence.

  By the time they got back, the streetlights had been lit, and the june bugs were attacking the lights and the screen doors of houses. A whippoorwill called its tune, and bats darted about the streetlights, feeding on insects.

  As they climbed the stoop, Jeffrey said, “Thank you for the pleasant walk. Would we find drinks available inside?”

  “If you want, the bar is always stocked for company.”

  He opened the door and held it for her. “Will you join me?”

  “I’ll have Charles bring in tea. I don’t much care for liquor.”

  “Not even brandy?”

  “Not really. Would you care for something to eat with your drink?”

  “That sounds good.” He looked in the parlor to find his aunt and Miss Walstead playing a game of dominos at the low table. “Who’s winning?”

  “One each.”

  “Would you join me for a drink?”

  “I’ll order tea and some of whatever Cook has.” Nilda left the room to go to the kitchen. She knew she could have pulled the cord, but right now she needed a drink of water first.

  When she pushed open the kitchen door, Cook looked up from fixing a tray. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Nilda headed for the sink. “I just want a drink of water.”

  “There’s cold water in a pitcher in the icebox. You sit down and let me get it for you.”

  “Thanks, but you finish what you are doing.” She took a glass from the drainer on the counter and opened the icebox to stand for a moment in the cool draft escaping. After pouring a glass of water, she shut the door and turned back to see Cook shaking her head. “What?”

  “You were that desperate?”

  Nilda held the glass to her cheek. “It’s muggy outside even though it was a lovely walk.”

  “Would you like water on the tray also?”

>   “No, I’ll stay with this.” She glanced at the tray. “Are the gingerbread men all gone?”

  “I’m sorry, I sent those home with your brother. I know how young Leif loved those cookies. These round ones with the crinkly edges are the same recipe.”

  “Leif was thrilled. Mrs. Solvang, you are so thoughtful and caring. I can never thank you enough.”

  “Now, Miss Nilda, you carry on so. I just do my job.” She picked up the tray.

  “Let me carry that.”

  “No, that simply would not do.”

  When Cook spoke that firmly, Nilda knew there was no more cajoling. She held the door open and stepped back into the kitchen to set down her water glass. Exhaustion rolled over her like a wave on the shore. She followed Cook into the parlor, where Jeffrey sat with a half-full glass in his hand and a smile welcoming her.

  “Please pardon me,” Nilda said, “but all of a sudden I just need to go to bed. Good night, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Mrs. Schoenleber frowned. “You’re not ill, are you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’ve had two very full days. Sleep well, my dear.” Miss Walstead smiled her beatific smile, which made Nilda feel comforted all over.

  “I’m sorry.” She nodded to Jeffrey. “Good night.” Climbing the stairs took every ounce of strength she could muster.

  Gilda met her at the door. “Your bed is turned down, and if you just stand still, I’ll help you.”

  “Thank you.” For a change she appreciated the assistance and did what she was told. Raise your arms. Slip into your nightgown. Now crawl in bed. Gilda folded the blanket back and pulled up the sheet.

  “There now. If you need anything, you call me.” She smiled down at Nilda. “Sleep sweet, Miss Nilda. You’ve earned your rest.”

  And Nilda did just that.

  The next morning she woke to a sparrow trilling its song and a cool breeze lifting the lace curtains at the window. After stretching her toes toward the foot of the bed and her arms over her head, she lay still, listening for anyone awake in the house. Not that she’d hear anything from the kitchen, but she wasn’t about to call for Gilda. Dressing swiftly in a simple dimity dress, she washed her face and bundled her hair into a snood. Today was a day to rejoice and be thankful, not that all days weren’t for that. But right this minute she felt she could conquer the world, or at least the bookwork she planned to get done. If Jeffrey wanted to help with her projects, she’d give him plenty to do.