Tears welled up in Violet’s eyes. “Oh, Norman, I’m so sorry!”
“They were part Tlingit. Julia and Angie remind me so much of my little Ruby Mae and Opal.”
So that was the reason for that haunted expression whenever the girls interacted with him. And then to lose his second wife and little girl too. The death of her husband and one child had been bad enough. But Norman had gone through it twice.
She stopped walking and turned toward him. A tear slid down her cheek. She dashed it away. “How can you stand it, Norman?”
“After my girls were lost, I finally gave my life to the Lord. Without Him and my sister, I’d have never made it.”
“I know what you mean. For several years, I blamed God for my losses. I couldn’t comprehend that He wasn’t punishing me for some reason I didn’t understand. The Penningtons helped me realize how much God loves me, that He didn’t ‘do it’ to me. Only then was I able to overcome my bitterness.”
Norman nodded, too choked up to say anything more.
“Thank you for telling me.” Violet touched his damp sleeve. “Now I know better how to pray for you.”
As they turned left from Seward Street onto Fourth Street, the walk leveled out. They passed in front of the recently built territorial government building, which also housed the post office. Violet pointed up the street to the right. “The school where I teach is just one block up and over from here.”
“My wife, Kristina, was a schoolteacher too, in Douglas, until our daughter was born.” His voice thickened with emotion. “She loved being a teacher but loved being a mother even more.”
“I longed to be a mother. My husband and I wanted a child for years before our Elizabeth Anne was finally born.” Violet stared at the ground. “I still don’t understand what caused her to die so suddenly when she was only a few days old.”
Violet fell silent for a few moments while she consciously shook off the sadness that always assailed her when she thought about her baby. “If she had lived, I wouldn’t have gone to Seattle ahead of John. It’s possible all three of us would have been on board the Princess Sophia when she went down.”
“God must have had more for you to do.”
“I suppose so. For a long time, I wished I was dead. But I’ve found contentment in mothering these needy children . . . and in teaching. Marie is just about the age my daughter would be. She took to me from the first day she saw me. That’s been a comfort.” Violet glanced sideways at Norman. “Have you found any leads on your daughter?”
Norman’s stride slowed. “In Seattle, I showed her picture to every ticket clerk at the train station and docks. No one recognized her. The Parkers could have taken her anywhere by now. There’s nothing more I can do but pray for a miracle.”
“I pray for that too and that God will comfort you and give you peace.”
“Ya. Thank you.”
When they glanced up, they realized they had been so engrossed in conversation that they had lagged well behind the others, so they sprinted to catch up with Alma and Tennes, who were rapidly approaching the Penningtons’ house.
Daniel greeted them at the door, took their coats, and showed the guests into the living room, while Violet added her coat to the row of outer garments hanging on hooks in the entrance hall. She hurried into the kitchen to help Cally get dinner on the table.
Daniel led in prayer. After all the food had been passed, Norman smiled at Julia, seated across the table from him, as she stuffed a big bite of meat loaf into her mouth. “Your favorite today, huh?”
She nodded vigorously, her mouth too full to speak.
“I like meat loaf too.” And Norman delved into his own plate of food.
As they finished eating, Daniel folded his cloth napkin and laid it beside his empty plate. “What are your plans for the season, Tennes?”
“Norman has persuaded me to join him fishing on the Kristina this year. Alma gets seasick, so she’ll stay at our home in Douglas and reclaim the garden from the weeds.”
Violet noticed that, while Norman and Alma spoke with a slight Norwegian accent, Tennes’ was much more pronounced. And he seemed to allow them to do most of the talking, only answering questions directed specifically to him.
“Last summer, we lived and worked at a salmon cannery near Ketchikan.” Alma’s voice trembled as she continued, “If only we’d stayed in Douglas, we could have taken care of Evie, and that sweet child would still be with us . . . maybe her mother too.”
“Now, Sis, it’s not your fault.”
“I know.” Alma glanced toward Tennes. “And ‘if only’ won’t change things either.”
“That’s right.” Mary said. “I learned long ago that torturing yourself with what might have been only robs you of peace.”
“Seconds, anyone?” Daniel asked.
When no one responded, Cally said, “In that case, Esther and Marie, let’s clear the table for dessert.”
Violet jumped up too. “And I’ll cut the cake.” She returned from the kitchen, carrying a sheet cake, just in time to see Mary, who was seated next to Alma, pat her hand. “Whenever you come to Juneau, dear, please stop by for a visit.”
“I will.” Her eyes crinkled as she laughed. “Living with two men, I get lonely for women talk.”
Violet set the cake on the table and selected dessert plates from the built-in china closet along one wall. So none of the children would have reason to squabble, she carefully cut equal squares and dished them out. Conversation continued as filled plates were passed down until one sat at each place.
“I’ve heard talk around town that plans are in the works for a bridge to be built across the channel to Douglas,” Daniel said. “Word is that the town fathers have requested that President Roosevelt’s new Public Works Administration put up the money. Then you won’t have to row across or depend on the ferry schedule.”
“It can’t happen too soon for me,” Norman declared. Everyone chorused an agreement.
“We really enjoyed the service this morning.” Alma turned to her husband. “Didn’t we, Tennes?” She looked at Daniel. “A bridge would make it a lot easier to come to your church regularly.”
“We’d love to have you,” Daniel said.
Mary nodded. “And your voices were a lovely addition to the singing.”
“Thank you.” Alma spoke wistfully. “I wish you could have heard Kristina sing.”
“Like a songbird.” Tennes sighed. “And oh, could she play the piano. How I miss that girl!”
“At least we know where she is—singing with the angels.” Norman’s voice cracked with despair. “But where, oh, where is my sweet Evie?” He set his fork on his plate alongside his half-eaten cake.
Little Angie, sitting next to him, tugged on his sleeve. “Mister Norman, I’ll be your little girl.”
“Oh, sweetheart, thank you!” Norman wrapped his arm around her slight form, his voice filled with emotion. “I’d love for you to be my little girl.”
She snuggled closer to him while the adults surreptitiously dabbed their napkins to their eyes.
Moments later, Angie stared at Norman’s cake. Fixing her dark eyes on him, she said, “Mister Norman, can I have the rest of your cake?”
“A method to her madness,” Daniel whispered.
The adults burst out laughing. Angie’s face puckered into tears.
Norman shot them a warning glance. They all quickly smothered their mirth as he addressed Angie in all seriousness. “Of course, elskede, little darling! We wouldn’t want to waste it, would we?”
When one of the older boys grumbled, “That’s not fair,” Norman drilled him with a stern stare. No one dared to utter another word of complaint.
Violet smiled to herself. Out of the mouth of babes. Angie had innocently rescued Norman from a melancholy moment.
Chapter 31
JUNEAU, ALASKA, JULY 1934
Violet didn’t see Norman or the Kobbeviks again until the first Sunday in July. The Penningtons invite
d them to the church picnic that afternoon at the Mendenhall Glacier. Everyone gathered after the service. Those without autos piled in to ride with those who had one. Children sat on the laps of adults, and off they went for the twelve-mile drive.
When they arrived, the children spilled out of the confined spaces and whooped and frolicked around the lake where the aqua-tinged icefield spilled its calves. The men supervised the youngsters and built a fire while the women set out the food on makeshift tables of planks laid across large boulders and draped with checkered oil cloths— sandwiches, bowls of potato salad, baked beans, and garden salads. Whenever Violet glanced toward the children, she noticed Norman, who stood head and shoulders above the other men, giving them piggyback rides or playing tag.
After everyone had eaten their fill of food, Daniel and Violet organized a game of hide-and-seek. Ben volunteered to be “it.” Sitting on a large boulder, designated “home base,” he hid his eyes and counted to one hundred. All the other players ran to conceal themselves.
Norman helped little Angie find a place to hide. By the smile on his face, Violet knew he was enjoying himself. Was he thinking of his little girls as he spent time with Angie? Perhaps he could find respite from his heartache for a few hours at least, although nothing had helped her so soon after her losses.
She often thought of Elizabeth while watching children play. Would Elizabeth have enjoyed daring activities like her father did, or would she have been the more studious type like she was? The death of a young child left so many unanswered questions.
Violet shook herself mentally. That kind of thinking led to no good end.
When Ben finished counting, he called out, “Ready or not, here I come!” as he began to search for the hidden players. When he ranged farther from home base, several sneaked out of their hiding places and ran to touch the boulder and be “safe.”
Ben, a fast runner, gave chase and tagged a few, but others dashed in and yelled, “Free!” before he could catch them.
The game ended when Ben gave up searching. He’d found all but one child—little Angie. “All-y, all-y, all in free,” he shouted.
Norman strode to a clump of alders and helped Angie crawl out from the narrow space between two tall boulders hidden in bushes where only she was tiny enough to fit. “You won, Angie!”
She leaped into Norman’s arms, hugged him around the neck, and squealed, “We did it!”
“You did it,” Norman said. “You stayed quiet and still until I came for you, just like I told you to.” Setting her down, he brushed the leaves and twigs off her clothes while she gazed adoringly into his face.
As Norman released Angie to play with the others, he turned, and Violet caught that familiar haunted expression flash across his countenance. Their eyes met. She smiled and nodded. No words were spoken, but they both understood their silent communication.
Alma Kobbevik had been watching the action from her seat on a boulder. She slipped to Violet’s side. “You care for him, don’t you?”
Violet reared back in astonishment. “I . . . I understand what he’s going through, that’s all.”
Giving her a knowing look, Alma smiled. “He’s still hurting. Just give him time.” She glided away before Violet could say anything further.
Violet laid both hands alongside her face. Her cheeks felt hot. She must be blushing. No matter how hard she’d tried to deny her attraction to Norman, his sister had seen through her efforts. Fear surged into her chest, snatching her breath. She could not take the chance of falling in love again. Just the thought of losing another loved one was enough to challenge her to renew her efforts.
By this time, Daniel had retrieved a rope from his touring car. “Anyone up for tug-of-war?”
The Sunday school superintendent and the church organist were enlisted to choose teams. Because of his size, Norman was one of the first to be chosen. He gave his jacket to Alma to hold and rolled up the sleeves of his plaid flannel shirt. When twelve of the strongest men and boys, six to each side, had lined up on each end of the rope, Daniel drew a line in the gravel with a stick and designated it as the middle.
Holding his arm high, Daniel shouted, “Ready! Set! Go!” He lowered his hand to signal for the tug-of-war to begin.
The wives and children cheered for their husbands’ and fathers’ teams. Little Angie, holding Violet’s hand, and Julia cheered for Norman’s. The teams seesawed back and forth until stamina won out, and Norman’s side was declared the winner.
Angie jumped up and down and waved her arms. “He won! He won!”
Norman dusted the debris from his knees, doffed his newsboy cap, and swept it toward Angie. He ran his fingers through his hair, swiped his shirtsleeve across his face, and replaced his cap before giving her a hug.
Next, the children chose teams for their tug-of-war. Norman stood behind Angie, who jumped up and down calling out, “Me! Me!” until the last one was chosen. Then she wailed, “No one wants me!”
Norman swept her up into his arms. “I want you, little one.”
He lifted his gaze to the blue sky above the glacier. Violet noticed his Adam’s apple bob up and down several times. When he spoke again, his voice sounded rough. “Let’s watch together. When you grow bigger, you can play too.”
A big smile erupted through the wet rivulets streaking the grime on Angie’s cheeks. Norman grabbed his handkerchief and tenderly wiped away the grit and tears. He then hoisted her up, her legs astraddle his broad shoulders so she could watch the game.
When everyone was ready for a rest, the women set out cookies. The older boys snagged ice near the shore of the lake for churning ice cream. Because glacial ice was colder and denser, it made ice cream more quickly than any other ice. The boys took turns rotating the crank handle until the mixture became too stiff for them. Daniel and Norman finished it off.
Mary and Violet scooped the ice cream into cones. Handing a cone to Angie, Violet said, “Eat it quickly before it melts.”
The next time she saw the child, she had ice cream smeared from her nose to her chin, down her clothes, and on both hands. Violet stuck the scoop into Alma’s hands, grabbed a damp cloth, and ran after Angie to clean her up.
Norman intercepted them. “Allow me.”
Violet happily relinquished the job, knowing that Angie would not protest having her beloved Norman take over the task. Violet observed how tenderly he worked. He must have been a good father. John had missed out on so much. If only Elizabeth hadn’t died.
Stop it, Violet. “If onlys” won’t bring them back.
When a clean Angie scampered off to join the other children, Norman said, “Violet, walk with me around the lake?”
Violet’s heart leaped, but she scolded herself and firmed up her resolve not to get romantically involved. They were just friends—friends who shared a tragic common bond and offered sympathy to each other, but that was all.
She smiled. “Sure! What’s on your mind?”
As they stepped carefully along the rough gravel shore, Norman said, “I’ve enjoyed today. Got my mind off myself for a while. How about you?”
Violet nodded. “Me too. How have you been?”
“Gradually coming to terms with my losses, I guess. Having Alma and Tennes here is a comfort. I don’t know what I’d do without them. Fall into the abyss of melancholia, I guess.”
“It took me four long years to pull out of my despair.” Violet stopped walking and stared off at the Seven Sisters, peaks that rose above the glacier. “At that time, my understanding of God’s role in everything was all mixed up. He literally brought Mary and Daniel to my doorstep in Whitehorse to explain the truth to me.”
“They’re certainly wonderful people.”
“That’s for sure! And I know that firsthand. I’ve lived in the same house with them for ten years now.” She choked up. “I don’t know where I’d be without them.”
Wordlessly, Norman laid his hand on her arm to comfort her. She swallowed back the threatening tears. Not
trusting herself to speak yet, she simply nodded. When she looked up at him, she saw understanding reflected in his eyes.
As they began walking again, Norman pointed at a large iceberg resting near the shore. “I never cease to be amazed at all the lovely shades of blue in one chunk of ice.” His voice lowered. “Kristina’s eyes were like that darker shade of blue deep inside.”
Had he forgotten she was there?
Abruptly, he stopped himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Do you mind if I tell you about my wife?”
“I’d love to hear about her. Talking about our loved ones keeps their memory alive.”
Norman nodded. “I knew Kristina since I was a teenager in the old country. She was an orphan, and my parents died when I was a boy. That’s what drew us together. She understood what I was going through. She was different from the other girls . . . and she was beautiful,” he ended in a whisper.
“So, you’re an orphan too. That’s another experience we have in common. My parents were killed in a carriage accident when I was eleven. My uncle and aunt raised me.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Violet fluttered her hand at him. “That’s all right. I was fortunate. My uncle and aunt loved me like the daughter they never had.”
A shadow flitted over them. Looking up, they sighted a bald eagle circling to land high in a tall, snaggly tree.
“Oh to be like the eagle!” Violet said. “They mount up with wings on the very winds that bring the storms.”
“That’s what Alma says too. I’m trying to learn that lesson, but I’m afraid I’ve allowed the storms to swamp me instead.”
Violet made a wry face. “I know what you mean.”
As they walked on, Norman continued his story. “After my parents passed away, I lived with my elder brother and his wife in Oslo since, by law, he inherited their house and money. But his wife barely tolerated me, so when I was sixteen, I ran away to my sister’s in Narvik. After our mother died and before she married, Alma had been like a mother to me. Although she and Tennes scarcely had enough money to support themselves, they welcomed me with open arms.”
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