Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I thought if you were giving your bear to your grandmother, he should have a ribbon or two. I’ll make Knut look real dapper.”
I give him a grateful smile, trying to ignore the flood of warmth in my veins. I think back to what Lady Jane said, that James is a good egg. I’m starting to think all the good parts of him outweigh the bad.
We leave the city core and drive up the hill, the snow getting thicker as we go. It’s a real cold snap this winter, and some say the harbor might completely freeze over soon. The roads to the care center are slippery. James handles it with ease, though, and soon we’ve arrived. I called Lisbeth on the way over so she’d know, and it’s not uncommon to have lots of visitors the day and night before Christmas Eve.
Once Lisbeth meets me inside, though, I’ve forgotten why this visit is different. Her attention immediately goes to James, her eyes sparkling.
“And who is this?”
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you she would have two visitors today, if that’s okay.”
“I’m James,” he says, flashing her a smile that’s both solemn and charming while extending his hand. “Friend of Laila’s.”
Lisbeth shakes it, seemingly lost for words. Sometimes I forget that James has this power over a lot of people, not just me. “Oh, you speak English. You’re Scottish.”
“Aye. Sorry about that.” Now he adds a devilish wink. I have to fight from rolling my eyes.
She gives me a look like, Wow, where did you find him? But I ignore it.
We walk down the hall to my grandmother’s room while Lisbeth gets her head back on straight, speaking in English so that James can understand. She tells us that my grandmother’s health has declined, particularly some heart murmurs and overall weakness, but that mentally she still has her bouts of clarity. For now she seems content, which is all we can really hope for.
“Bestemor?” I say as Lisbeth opens the door and we step into the room.
My grandmother sits by the window as always, even though it’s dark outside. There’s only her bedside light on, casting her in shadow. I reach for the light switch, but Lisbeth stops me.
“She likes it when it’s not so bright. The lights disturb her,” she says gently. “I’ll leave you two be. Let me know if you need me.”
She leaves the room, leaving the door half-open.
My grandmother still hasn’t looked at us, and I feel myself crumbling on the spot. James puts his hand on my shoulder and says to me in a low voice, “It’s okay. You’re here. You have presents. It’s Christmas.”
He’s reminding me of what I have in my shopping bag.
But before I can bring the bear out, my grandmother turns her head slowly to look at us. “Kolbjorn?” she asks, her voice shaking.
I still, my eyes wide. Kolbjorn was her husband. He died before I was born.
James gives me a look like he understands. He nods and slowly walks over to my grandmother. “Helge,” he says gently in broken Norwegian. “How are you doing?”
I notice he doesn’t correct her and tell her she’s wrong, probably because he doesn’t know enough Norwegian to do so. I’m grateful, because sometimes she can get scared when she gets confused. He also doesn’t say he’s Kolbjorn either.
“Oh,” she says delicately, fixing her eyes on him. “I am doing better now that you are here. I have been thinking a lot about you lately.”
James lowers his frame into the seat across from her. I can only stand where I am, Knut halfway out of the shopping bag, and hold my breath for fear of ruining the moment. The only part of me that moves are the tears running down my face.
“You are loved,” he says to her in Norwegian, and be still my heart. He doesn’t understand what she’s saying, but he can tell from the way she’s looking at him that it’s coming from a very loving place.
She gives him a genuine smile that shakes a little. There is no mistaking the affection in her eyes. “Do you remember when we would walk to the river and take a swim. That was when the furniture factory was there, do you remember? They would use the water for electricity. We would sneak upriver where no one could see us.” She giggles softly at that, pressing a hand to her mouth, as if remembering a scandalous detail, and suddenly I can see her in her prime, swimming with my grandpa, looking so damn beautiful.
James smiles at her, and it’s so warm that I swear it lights up the room. “You are loved, Helge,” he says, taking her hand in his, his voice adamant yet gentle. “You are beautiful.” He’s really pulling out all the Norwegian he knows. Well, thankfully not the swears.