The Diary Dilemma Page 6

  The two deep lines above Matilda’s nose began to dissolve. “And you want to start with me?”

  “Sure. You’re the boss.”

  “Well then,” Matilda said, forcing a smile, “a coffee would be great.”

  Whatever shield Matilda had surrounded herself with was cracked by any kindness shown to her. Could it be this easy to turn her from a relentless enemy into a possible ally? After some time spent together, all Eda saw in her nemesis was desperate loneliness.

  That thought accompanied her the rest of the day, uneventful except for the call from Johan. At the time, Eda was squinting in a desperate effort to work despite the sun fading the laptop screen. Admitting defeat, she shifted the laptop’s position, at the same time turning her back at At’s chair.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “I’m running from the light,” Eda explained, without turning her back.

  “Eda...”

  “Yes, At.”

  “Your phone is vibrating.”

  She rolled the chair, her heart plummeting at the sight of the caller ID.

  “Bud and Talia are having a gathering at the cabin this weekend,” Johan said without introduction. “I was hoping you’d like to join us.”

  Eda picked the empty coffee mug and moved away to separate herself from all the prying eyes. At must’ve noticed the caller's identity; there was no reason to inform them that the conversation was not work-related.

  “They didn’t invite me,” Eda said from a safe distance.

  “I just did.”

  “Right. I’d love to, but--”

  “Excellent. We’re meeting there this evening. I’ll text you the details.” Several voices grew louder in the background; wherever Johan was, he wasn’t alone.

  Eda chose to use that as an explanation for his expedite, cold tone.

  “Polly is staying with me this weekend,” she said. “I can’t leave her alone.”

  “Bring her too.”

  “Are you sure it’s fine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The conversation ended, leaving her staring at the cell. She was standing in the middle of the reception area, holding tightly to the coffee mug as if it were her one source of joy. As she was halfway to the cafeteria, it made sense to refill it.

  She sung praises to herself for the decision when her gaze rested on Talia, who supported herself against the vending machine.

  “You look tired,” Eda said. “How’s the new job?”

  Talia answered with a yawn. “Very busy. How’s yours?”

  “Same.”

  “I’m sure you can handle it.” Another yawn. “I’m sorry.”

  Eda inserted the coffee mug into the espresso machine and pressed the button to fill it with an excellent latte.

  “I got a call from Johan,” she said, tracking the brown liquid as it was pouring down. “He invited a friend and me to the cabin this weekend.”

  Talia’s eyes doubled in size. “Interesting!”

  “I wanted to make sure it’s okay with you. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “No, we’d love to have you there. I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with your friend. Or someone else.”

  If Talia wanted to open the door into her feelings, Eda would not allow it. “Can we talk about Johan?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every time we talk, he seems...guarded. As if he’s hiding a great pain inside. A pain he’s unwilling to share, at least with me.”

  Talia pushed her slightly towards the exit the moment new people appeared. “Did you try to talk to him about it?”

  “I don’t want to intrude or for him to think that I’m trying to satisfy my curiosity.”

  “Look, I can’t tell you what’s going on because it’s not my story to tell. And I do think he wants to share. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have invited you this weekend.”

  They kept walking in the hallway until Talia stopped. “He needs friends right now, but he doesn’t want to put his problems on other people’s shoulders. If you want to satisfy your curiosity and run away, you shouldn’t bother.”

  Talia left, leaving Eda with her thoughts. He did need a friend, someone to help him share whatever burden he was carrying. One realization brought tears into her eyes. She should’ve insisted on staying for lunch the other day.

  Christmas Again

  By the time Eda pulled in front of the cabin, the shining snow lit the entire area. She did her best to park without hitting another vehicle or knocking down the barn on the other side. When she finally succeeded, cold sweat was pouring down her neck.

  “Are you going to drill a hole in the ceiling, or do you have any other way for me to get out?” Polly asked.

  She’d avoided eye contact the entire trip, but now she turned to show the contempt as if her tone weren’t clear enough. There was no way Polly would let her forget she was mad at her, even for a moment.

  Her anger had no good reason. All Eda had done was advise her to pursue a path that would minimize any chances of regrets. The fact that Polly stubbornly ignored her husband couldn’t accomplish that goal, but every time Eda had suggested she answered his calls or mentioned her kids, Polly turned into a fiery dragon. This unexpected trip was the best way to dilute the pressure with the company of other people.

  “You’ll have to cross on my side,” Eda answered.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!”

  With no possibility to improve Polly’s disposition, Eda ignored her glare and opened the side door halfway until it hit the barn wall. She took a deep breath and sunk a foot into the snow, then proceeded to the other. Between the tight space, her bag and cell, both held in her hands, the simple task of getting out of the car proved more difficult than she’d calculated. The bag got caught in the wheel. When she turned to unravel it, she hit the cell on the frame, her most crucial possession falling in the snow. In her haste to pick it up before the humidity rendered it useless, her head projected itself against the frame. The worst part of it all was Polly’s smirk.

  When her exit worthy of a comedy ended, Polly moved to the driver seat. With a fake innocent smile, she handed her bag and coat to Eda. “Would you be so kind?”

  Eda made room for the two additional objects in her arms, not before expressing her feelings with an eye roll. As much as she wished Polly would experience some of her difficulties, her exit went smoothly.

  “Looks small,” she commented, staring at the cabin.

  As they walked, Eda glanced back, troubled by the way their steps disrupted the snow’s perfection.

  A few feet away from the cabin, the front door slammed open, and a small boy burst out, wearing only a knitted blouse and sneakers. He froze just before he bumped into Eda and lifted his big, amber eyes.

  “Hello,” Eda said automatically, her mind making suppositions about who the boy was. As much as she searched for a likeness to Talia, Bud, or Johan, she found none.

  The boy’s sweet voice broke her chain of thoughts. “Good evening.”

  Eda kneeled in front of him. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Johan Patton Jr., I am five years old, and I live at 16b, 22nd, New York.” He spat everything fast, in a single breath.

  “Nice to meet you, Johan--”

  “I’m not Johan; I’m JP.”

  “But you said your name is Johan,” Eda countered. She glanced up at Polly, anticipating her involvement in the conversation but finding her attention directed solely at the woods.

  “My name is Johan Patton Jr; I’m five years old, and I live--”

  Before the boy had the chance to finish his repetition, two boot-wearing legs approached through the snow.

  “Go inside, JP. It’s cold,” Johan said as soon as he was in ear-distance.

  JP ran back inside, the three stairs at the entrance not slowing him down one bit. Eda kept her eyes fixed at the door even after JP closed it, without daring to gaze into those two emerald eyes that always seemed to make a mess of her reasoni
ng.

  “I’m glad you could come,” he whispered.

  She had no chance but to return his smile. “Me too.”

  That would’ve been the best moment for Polly to be absent-minded, yet she gave them her undivided attention. “I’m glad too.”

  “You must be Polly,” Johan said, breaking the invisible cord connecting him to Eda.

  “I must be, so I am.” She shook Johan’s hand. “Eda told me all about you.”

  Eda froze, unwilling to acknowledge Polly’s remark occurred in reality. It had to be nothing more than some type of punishment for their repeated arguments on the way here.

  “Did she?”

  Eda pushed him toward the cabin in a desperate effort to change the subject. “Don’t mind Polly. She often has no idea what she says or does.”

  Polly let the distance increase before she whispered in Eda’s ear. “He’s extremely handsome.”

  “Oh, is he? Are you done being mad by any chance?”

  “I’m still mad. But he’s extremely handsome.”

  The snow wouldn’t leave their boots and jeans no matter how many times they slammed their feet on the wooden porch. Admitting defeat, they went inside, finding the air so warm and dense that Eda had to open her mouth and breathe in deeply a few times to adjust.

  She followed Johan through the tight hallway. As they passed by the kitchen, she peeked inside—one glance was enough for her eyes to stink and her nose to move from its position. What was that stench? It was as if someone bought some food and left it there to rot for a year. When they finally reached the living room, her mind was too shocked by the sight to dwell on the bad smell.

  A huge Christmas tree dominated the room. All kinds of decorations were spread all over the floor, JP kicking them around in his rapid trek while Bud and Talia ornated the tree.

  Talia noticed their arrival first. “Eda! So glad you could make it, both of you.”

  The warm welcome demanded a likewise reply, but Eda found no words. “Isn’t it too late for Christmas?”

  “Or too early,” Polly added.

  “We’re not decorating the tree, sweetie,” Talia said.

  “We’re taking it down,” Bud completed.

  That made perfect sense.

  “Some friends asked us to lend them the cabin for the holidays, which we did,” Johan explained. “Turns out they left in a hurry and forgot to undo the Christmas tree or do the dishes.”

  “Forgot?” Eda made no effort to hide her amusement.

  “Let’s say we won’t be lending them the cabin in the foreseeable future. I do apologize for the mess, though.”

  “No worries,” Eda said, still smiling. “What can we do to help?”

  Talia jumped in the middle of the room, stepping on an ornament and almost losing her balance. “Polly, would you mind helping me in the kitchen? You can tell me how Eda was when she was young and wild.”

  “Oh, she always had to be pushed to be wild,” Polly said as they were both heading out.

  “I’m going outside to cut some more wood,” Bud said quickly. “Do you mind if you take care of the tree?” Without waiting for an answer, he disappeared. A few moments later, the front door squeaked open then shut.

  Eda circled on the spot, inspecting the entire room. Their method for taking the tree down wasn’t the most efficient; all the boxes were empty, and the ornaments were decorating the floor with red, green, and yellow sparkle. JP seized the lights and ran in circles, wrapping himself in.

  “We should help him,” Eda said.

  “No, those lights will keep him busy for a while. Otherwise, we’ll never get this done.”

  “How do you want to proceed? I do the tree, and you clean the mess of the floor?”

  “How about we both do the tree first and then clean the mess?”

  “Sure.”

  “We need to move fast, or the little devil will ruin everything we’re trying to do.”

  Eda made her way to the tree, kicking various items on the floor. “This is so much better than the kitchen.”

  “If it were up to me, we’d throw away everything with dishes and cupboards and whatever else is in there.”

  Eda was inspecting a globe with fascination. Time had left tiny cracks on it, but the design was exquisite. Handmade, for sure. She couldn't refrain her admiration. “This is gorgeous,” she said.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  She glanced at other globes and ornaments, all of the same quality. “They look old.”

  “They are,” Johan confirmed, taking down an angel from the top of the tree. “We spent every Christmas here up to our teens. Our parents were full-on Christmas fanatics. What you see here is a small portion of the Christmas stuff we used to put around the house. It took us an entire day to set everything in its place.”

  “This sounds wonderful. My Christmases were empty. I had a tree once or twice, but it wasn’t the same.” Eda placed the globes in their case with care, even though, judging by the treatment they got from JP, they couldn’t break.

  “Your parents weren’t much into the holidays?”

  “My mother was. Actually, my first years were great. My mom used to bake two days in a row all kinds of cookies. Coconut cakes were my favorites. I have the recipe, but I swear, can’t get it right for the life of me.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  Eda turned to him to gauge his level of honesty. “You cook?”

  “I care too much about my son to cook for him. The pancakes turn out decent but nothing else. I did try other things.”

  “I would’ve loved to see you try.” The image of Johan moving from corner to corner, desperately trying to make pasta but failing made her smile.

  “You love seeing me embarrassed, I see. I can cook for you one day as long as you agree to order take-out also.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “So, what happened to your Christmases?”

  Nostalgia vailed Eda, together with a familiar pain that returned from time to time. “My mother got sick,” she said plainly, wishing to get over that part faster. “She died a few months later, and I went to live with my father.”

  “Went? They were divorced?”

  Eda leaned in time to take the carefully set box from JP’s path. The boy was once again raving throughout the room.

  “They’ve never been married. My father didn’t want marriage or me, and my mother was the I-can-do-everything-on-my-own type. She wouldn’t have him marry her because of the pregnancy and was determined to make it on her own. She succeeded. Until she died. I was seven at the time.”

  Johan paused with a box in his arms. “I’m sorry.”

  “After she died, Dad took me in. He always saw me just as a responsibility, one he would’ve gladly shaken off if he could do it and still keep the image of a good man he had about himself. I miss my mom so much sometimes... Late into my teens, I imagined talking to her about the things happening to me, asking for her counsel. Her responses were my own, but it gave me confidence.”

  They kept talking about their past as they were setting ornament after ornament in their boxes up until JP threw himself on the couch.

  “Something wrong?” Johan asked, furrowing his brows.

  “I’m tired, Daddy,” the boy whispered.

  Johan squatted near him, taking his temperature. “Do you want to go to bed?”

  “I guess... Will you read me a story?”

  “Sure.”

  After a short apology to Eda, Johan lifted JP in his arms and carried him up the stairs to their bedroom. Seeing the love Johan showed his son filled Eda’s eyes with tears. Her mother had had the same approach, a love she hadn’t found since she died. Perhaps the cold relationship with her father was the reason why she found it so difficult to get close to other people. Every time she’d been in a relationship, she found a reason to end it before it got too serious. Before she was too vulnerable.

  She returned to her duties, interrupted by the laughter comin
g from the kitchen from time to time. Knowing Polly, she was spilling the most ridiculous stories about her as punishment for their argument. Like the story of when they fake-set the fire alarm in her house, and Eda ran out wearing a negligée and cucumber slices all over her face. Or maybe she was telling Talia about that time when her rather tight dress broke at her back at a party, and she found out hours later. Polly had ample revenge material from her past.

  Without distractions, Eda transformed the messy living room into a beautiful rustic cabin, with enough space for everyone to enjoy a great night. She proceeded to pick up the trail of ornaments left on the way to the top floor. The wooden stairs creaked under her weight. While her legs were far from short, the stairs were so tall she feared she’d fall.

  She arrived at the top floor with an uncomfortable amalgam of red and green ornaments in her arms. Silence ruled, except for a few occasional louder comments coming from the kitchen. Eda was about to turn back down and announce that she’d finished her task when she noticed one of the doors was half-open. She stood still for a few moments, her curiosity engaged in a battle with her conviction that she was not a nosy person.

  Curiosity won. Eda neared the door, stepping carefully to minimize the creaks the floor made under her feet until she could see the bed with the little angel sleeping and part of Johan’s torso as he stood, watching over the child.

  That last step was a mistake—or perhaps someone had placed that rotten wood plank as some security device, announcing unwanted visitors. Thankfully, JP’s sleep was deep enough to ignore the annoying sound. Johan, however, took a few steps into the room, hidden from view.

  Shuffling to the stairs, Eda struggled to hold on to all the rebel ornaments that slipped through her arms.

  “Eda!” Johan’s voice was soft enough for her to think twice whether he actually said something.

  She eyed him as he was closing the door. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

  “You didn’t,” he mouthed. “JP is asleep.”

  As if set into motion by invisible mechanic arms, they both moved towards each other at the same time. When they met halfway, she could see his red eyes. The difference was subtle but noticeable.