Breakfast with Santa

by Carol Henry

  “Miss Sullivan,” Sven’s grandmother said, rising from her chair. “How nice to meet you. And to come all this way to visit Sven and his new fiancée. Please have a seat.”

  Katelyn fell into the nearest chair. Had she heard correctly? Surely not. The poor woman must have gotten her thoughts confused, what with her husband in the hospital. She looked at Sven’s parents waiting for one of them to correct the woman. Instead, neither could meet her eyes. They focused on anything in the room but her. What the hell was going on? Where was Sven? Legs and hands shaking, she stood, glad she hadn’t taken her coat off yet. She had to get out of here before she said or did something stupid. Crap!

  “Please, excuse me. I think I made a mistake.” A huge mistake if Sven’s grandmother knew what she had just intimated.

  “My dear, I’m so sorry,” Sven’s mother said. “I was under the impression Sven had already spoken to you.” Which explained Mrs. Olson’s surprise when she’d answered the door to find her standing there. “Please sit down—catch your breath.”

  There was no way she was going to remain in the room only to be pitied.

  “Oh, dear, Inge, what have I done?” Sven’s grandmother said, her hands twitching in her lap, her back straight, and an apologetic expression on her lovely face.

  “Nothing, Mother. It seems our Sven has some explaining to do—sooner than expected, I imagine.” Mr. Olson patted his mother’s hands. “This is not your fault.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I must make hotel arrangements,” Katelyn called over her shoulder on the way to the front hall.

  “Katelyn. I apologize for my son.” Mr. Olson stood, looking as if he wasn’t sure what to do. “Of course we’ll help you find a place to stay—at our expense. It’s the least we can do, considering.”

  “Thanks for your offer, but I’ll manage.” And she would. Somehow. And without Sven and the Olsons. She needed to escape before she ran into Sven. Because, honestly, she didn’t know what she would say. She wasn’t ready to listen to whatever drivel he had to offer in his defense. His cool phone calls were beginning to make sense. She had to get out of there before he came to lunch with his current fiancée, most likely the friend he was visiting. How embarrassing. On the other hand, she’d like to tell him exactly what she thought of him right about now. He could have saved them both a boatload of grief and heartache if he’d just called it quits over the phone. No wonder he’d been so short with her. Putting her off. The jerk.

  She had no idea where she was going, but headed for the front door. Perhaps the taxi driver would have a hotel recommendation.

  “My apologies for foolishly putting you all in this awkward position. Tell Sven there is no need to contact me.”

  She opened the door…and froze.

  “Katelyn!”

  Sven’s shocked voice and expression as she stood immobile, trying to take it all in—him and his new fiancée standing on the other side of the door—was priceless. And well deserved. She was glad she hadn’t missed seeing the shame spread all over his handsome, but red face. The color suddenly drained clear down below his loose neck scarf. The woman on his arm stared at Katelyn as if she was a gnat that needed flicking off her shoulder. Damn. The woman was beautiful. And here she was looking like a bag lady without a home after the long sleepless night spent on the plane. She didn’t need this.

  “Hi, Sven.” She took a deep breath, let it out between clenched teeth, and unloosened her tight fists. “Surprise, surprise.”

  “Katelyn!” he repeated needlessly. “What are you doing here?”

  Her insides shook, she gritted her teeth, and held her temper in check. But she couldn’t contain it past the count of ten.

  “Obviously not what I had in mind. So much for feeling sorry for you in your ‘time of need’—you and your family’s. You’re such a chicken shit, Sven. Now, get the hell out of my way.” She went to walk past him, but he blocked her path.

  “We need to talk.” He turned to the woman at his side. “Excuse us, Marta. Go join the family in the sitting room. I’ll join you shortly.”

  The doting Marta thankfully remained silent, but gave Katelyn a sly look before going to the other room.

  “Please. Let me explain,” Sven implored.

  He reached for her. Katelyn side-stepped his flailing hands. She didn’t figure she’d be able to remain calm if he so much as touched her right now. On the one hand she couldn’t wait to hear his trumped up explanations—on the other, she almost didn’t want to hear a word he had to say. How long had he been deceiving her? OMG! Was this why he’d been dragging his feet about setting a date for their wedding this past year? She’d come all this way—for nothing. She might as well listen to what he had to say, tell him goodbye, and get on with her life.

  Resolved, Katelyn let Sven lead her down a short hallway to what was apparently his grandfather’s study. A large wooden desk, equally large bookshelf behind it, against the wall, and a matching filing cabinet in the corner dominated the room. Once the door shut, her eyes focused on Sven and the rest of the room’s contents ceased to exist. He reached for her again—she recoiled from his touch. Unable to look at him any longer, she walked to the window and concentrated on the view of Bergen’s Harbor far below in an effort to calm her trembling insides. A massive ship reminiscent of a marauding pirate vessel, sails unfurled and extending to the pristine sky, was tied up at one of the docks. A ferry/cargo/cruise ship was just pulling into the harbor, and people lined the dock waiting to meet the passengers. She wished she was on it. Anywhere but standing in Sven’s grandfather’s study covered in embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry you came all this way, Katelyn.”

  Sven’s pleading voice snapped her out of her contemplations. She turned sharply from the window.

  “So am I.”

  The shame on Sven’s face, in his eyes, didn’t pacify her. Was he only sorry she had come to Norway? Or that he had cheated on her?

  “What a fool I was, thinking I was coming to your rescue. Is your grandfather really sick? Or was that something you fabricated to make me oblivious to what has evidently been going on behind my back?”

  “He’s still in the hospital.”

  He ran his hand through his already wind-tossed hair. His hand shook. Good. This wasn’t easy for him. It definitely wasn’t easy for her.

  “When were you going to tell me—break our engagement? Were you even planning on coming home for Christmas?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. Guilt flashed in his eyes—he lowered his head.

  “Your silence is answer enough.” She would never be able to enjoy Christmas ever again.

  “I didn’t want to break it off over the phone,” he finally spoke.

  She almost didn’t hear him. His voice low, as if he was talking to himself.

  “So thoughtful of you. It would have been preferable, rather than finding out like this.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”

  “Obviously!”

  “How was I to know you would jump a plane and come to Bergen?”

  “Again, obviously!”

  “That’s not what I meant. I was planning on flying back next week.”

  “Not necessary now. What a Christmas present! Thanks for nothing. Thanks for ruining Christmas for me—for ruining my life.” She walked to the door, her head high, only to realize she still didn’t have anywhere to stay, and needed to make flight arrangements to go back home. She had nowhere to spend the night. If she couldn’t find something, she’d simply sleep in the airport until she could catch a flight back home.

  “Goodbye, Sven.”

  “Wait, Katelyn. Please, let me explain.”

  Did she want to hear all the sordid details?

  “Call me a cab and make reservations at a hotel, first.”

  “Yes, of course.” He strode to the desk and picked up the phone without a backward glance.

  Tears formed, she turned, and wiped at them, not wanting Sven to
see how hurt she was at his quick acceptance of her wanting to leave. His hopeless, forlorn expression when he turned from making the call did little to make her feel sorry for him. Nor did it make her feel any better, damn him. She was the one who had been wronged, cheated on. Guilt looked perfect on him.

  Her worst Christmas ever!

  “You know what, Sven? I don’t want to know all the gory details after all. It’s not going to change a thing. Let’s just leave it as is.” She was letting him off the hook, but honestly, there really was nothing to be gained by sitting and listening to words that weren’t going to make things right in the end, anyway. “I’ll need the name of the hotel for the taxi driver. If you would be so kind as to write it down for me.” She wanted to rant and rave, tell him what an ass he was, that she never wanted to see him ever again. But that would only make him feel justified in not having told her in the first place. As much as she wanted to, she stood quietly until he wrote the address on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “Tell your parents goodbye for me. I’ll wait outside until the taxi arrives.”

  “Katelyn.” He shook his head and stepped toward her. She stepped back.

  “Don’t.”

  “I’m…”

  “Don’t say a word.”

  “Let me come with you. Help you settle in at the hotel.”

  She could only stare, mouth open, brows raised in surprise.

  “Too little, much too late. Don’t drag this out and make it any harder for me.” She turned and walked out the office door, grabbed her suitcase waiting in the front hall like a forgotten child, and shut the door behind her. He hadn’t even tried to stop her.

  Definitely her worst Christmas ever!

  Chapter Ten

  Sven might just as well have ripped her heart out of her aching chest. So much for surprising him and thinking it was so romantic. Well, the surprise was all hers. Coming all the way to Norway to be dumped on a doorstep bordered on the surreal. Angry as hell was too mild an expression. She was livid. It hadn’t escaped her noticed just how much she resembled his new fiancée, either. The woman was fair skinned, had the same long blonde hair, was reasonably tall, and had a thin frame. But unlike her, this woman’s boobs were well endowed. No doubt about it, Sven had most certainly been drawn to her because she looked so much like Marta.

  Katelyn was glad of the warmth of the taxi as she settled in the back seat for the ride down the hillside to the hotel where Sven had made reservations. The Royal Blue Hotel was located behind the colorful row of two-hundred-year-old wooden houses from the Hanseatic time—her cabbie informed her in perfect English as they drove along the pier. “So close to the fish market. You must visit,” he told her. She wasn’t interested in visiting a fish market, or any other historic site, right now. She just wanted to settle in her room, finalize flight arrangements to go home to Lobster Cove, and pretend this never happened. She’d think about sightseeing later. Maybe.

  The taxi driver drew up to the hotel portico, jumped from the car, and retrieved her bag from the trunk. She stepped out of the vehicle, dug in her purse for tip money, and exchanged the tip for her bag. Sven had prepaid the cab fare. She went inside in search of the reservation desk. The interior was very modern, spacious, and decorated for the holiday. Several easy chairs and sofas were arranged conversational style with tables close by in the main foyer. The décor spoke of elegance with an open carpeted mezzanine staircase in the center of the opulent room, crystal chandeliers, and vivid seasonal sprays of flowers scattered around the foyer. Guests were in various stages of coming and going. She checked in, retrieved her room key, was given the hotel talk about the restaurant, the bar, the elevators, and ten minutes later was on her way up to the sixth floor, and finally her room.

  Once inside, Katelyn deposited her suitcase next to the door, and plopped on the bed. She didn’t bother taking off her coat. She was exhausted. Alone in a foreign country, minus a fiancé, was not how she had envisioned her exciting romantic adventure to play out. She was holed up in a hotel room, alone, not knowing how she was going to get home, or when. She simply gave in, shut her eyes, and fell asleep.

  Two hours later, Katelyn woke, took a shower, and put on clean clothes. She drew the curtain aside and was greeted with a vivid blue sky, the late afternoon sunshine, a rumble in her stomach, and a new determination. Enough was enough. Sven wasn’t going to take the excitement of Christmas completely out of her soul. She would get something to eat—at the fish market—and then do some Christmas shopping for her parents.

  Katelyn walked out of the hotel and headed along those historic homes and shops along the wharf the cabbie had mentioned. The air was brisk, but not frigid, the sidewalk packed with locals and visitors shopping in the various novelty stores along the Bryggen District. She turned right onto Torget Street and headed for the outdoor fish market. Scaled back for the winter, vendors were scarce, but the ones selling fresh seafood were busy cooking for those who were brave enough to meet the elements.

  Katelyn found a tented vendor, with a huge kettle of fish soup, steam rising, and a savory aroma of curry making her stomach crave whatever concoction the woman was selling. She dug in her purse for a few Krone she’d exchanged at the airport, accepted her large portion of curried seafood over white rice, then found a seat at one of the picnic tables under the tent—a small heater warmed the small enclosed area. Several locals sat at the other tables, enjoying their meals. After eating, she wandered back to the Bryggen area to check out the shops. The taxi driver had also mentioned the Fløibanen Funicular that would take her to the top of the Fløyen Mountain for a spectacular view of Bergen. Why should she miss out on at least one Norwegian adventure while in Bergen just because Sven had shattered her heart and her trust in men.

  It was a beautiful winter’s day, the sun kissed her face and sparkled off the water. The view would be spectacular, the cabbie had promised. She paid the fare and hopped aboard the cog rail that ascended the steep mountainside. Once on top, she stood on the viewing platform along with half-a-dozen other visitors, and had a clear panoramic view of the city, the mountains, and the fjords. The cabbie had been right. It was amazing. She tugged her scarf tighter around her neck, the wind having picked up in the higher elevation.

  On top of the world, she looked out over the horizon toward home, and sighed. Despite the awesome experience, her heart sank. There was nothing for her back home, and there was nothing for her here, either. Even Mark had found someone else to take his wife’s place. He and Connie Blye were evidently an item.

  So what did that say about her? What was wrong with her? Why did men choose other women rather than her? What signs had she missed with Sven? He had dragged his feet, not wanting to set a date—should she have considered he didn’t want to marry her? But then, he’d never mentioned he had a girlfriend back in Norway—and he had given her a ring. And Mark? What had really nudged them apart? And why had he kissed her and almost made love to her the other day, stirring remembered emotions, only to turn to Connie?

  Several people entered the small café at the crest of the hill—she joined them, following the scent of strong coffee. She could use a cup of something warm to help dispel the chill that had set in while standing out in the cold. Instead of sitting at a table, she ordered a coffee to go, and took the funicular back down the hill. She sat in the very back of the vehicle where she had an unobstructed view of the fjords down below as they descended.

  She sipped her coffee and let her mind wander back to seeing Mark again. His kiss had ignited a spark deep inside that had no business still burning—his presence in Lobster Cove reignited those feelings she thought had been laid to rest years ago. Memories of their high school graduation night flooded her entire being. Their love and subsequent lovemaking had been perfect. Mark had made her heart soar, astonished at how such a tough high school jock on the playing field could be so gentle and caring while making love to her. He’d been her first, and after the initial discomfort, he had taken her to h
eights she never knew existed.

  She knew without a doubt that they would be together forever. A sadness washed over her as she recalled the results of their lovemaking—at first the shock that she was pregnant, the pleasure that she was having Mark’s child, and then the anguish when she’d miscarried. She had never told anyone other than her parents—Mark had been long gone by the time she’d discovered they were going to be parents, and after she miscarried, there was no sense telling him—or anyone.

  Katelyn sighed. She loved children and would have loved to have had Mark’s child. And what a kick in the pants—Mark had a child of his own. Kurtis should have been hers. Tears flooded her eyes. She wiped at them. Her heart turned over wanting a child of her own.

  Katelyn joined the others exiting the funicular, dumped her coffee cup in the trash, and made her way back to the shops along the quay. An hour later, arms full of Christmas packages for her parents, Katelyn entered the hotel lobby. And spotted Sven sitting in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, his coat unzipped, his scarf loose around his neck, and his eyes focused on the entrance.

  Dear, Lord. What is he doing here?

  Sven jumped from his seat and closed the distance between them. She clutched her packages tighter. She didn’t want to deal with this—him.

  “Are you okay, Katelyn? I couldn’t let you leave Norway without knowing that you’re going to be all right.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve given it some thought.” Actually, she’d been thinking about Mark and how seeing him again had her emotions going haywire. Sven might have unknowingly done them each a favor. Would marrying Sven have been settling for second best? Still, he hadn’t handled the break up very well—could have been more considerate of her feelings and been a bit more forthright over the phone. Then again, he hadn’t expected her to show up in Norway, not giving him time to tell her. It was just as much a shock to him as it had been to her. Maybe she should have given him the opportunity to explain.

  “I suspect neither of us is truly in love with each other.” She sighed. Saying the words made her realize the truth. Her heart felt lighter. Maybe coming to Bergen was meant to be for a different reason than she intended.