Years by Spencer Lavyrle

Author:Spencer, Lavyrle [Spencer, Lavyrle]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, General, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780425263143
Publisher: Berkley Trade
Published: 2013-12-03T08:00:00+00:00

15

THEY WERE ALL in the front parlor at Ulmer and Helen’s house, gathered around a Thanksgiving table so long the far end seemed to vanish in the distance. It was much more formal than Linnea had expected. The table was set all in white: white china on white damask linens. The only color came from a luscious ribbon of translucent jellies, relishes, and preserves that lined the length of the table and caught the sun like a strand of jewels spread upon the snow. In the center was a glorious crown of tomato aspic.

When everyone was seated, Ulmer said grace. A moment later Helen swept in, triumphantly bearing a wide silver platter of steaming lutefisk glistening with drawn butter.

Oh no, Linnea thought. The Curse of Norway!

It passed from hand to hand accompanied by oohs and ahs while Linnea frantically wondered where the turkey was. But no turkey appeared. She watched the malodorous steaming cod come closer with all the eagerness of St. Joan watching the firebuilder search for a match.

When it reached her, she passed it on to Frances as unobtrusively as possible.

Frances bellowed, “You mean you don’t want any lutefisk?”

“No thank you, Frances,” Linnea whispered.

“But you have to eat lutefisk! It’s Thanksgiving!”

Frances might as well have hired a barker. Everyone turned horrified glances on the recalcitrant Miss Brandonberg.

“I never learned to like it. Please, just... just pass it on to Norna.”

At her left, Clara — bless her heart — was snickering. Across the table Linnea saw Theodore hide his smile behind a finger. The hostess bustled in with the next Norwegian delicacy, lefse, a flat potato bread that had, in Linnea’s opinion, all the attraction of a platter of gray horsehide. Every eye in the house surreptitiously watched to see if the little missy would commit her second sin of the day. But this time she took a piece and plopped it on her plate to satisfy them. She slathered it with butter and lifted it to her lips. Looking up, she found Theodore lifting his own lefse — wrapped around a bunk of lutefisk. She bit into hers. He bit into his. She crossed her eyes and made a disgusted face. He chewed with exaggerated relish, then licked his lips ostentatiously while his eyes twinkled at her from across the table. It was their first friendly exchange since the night they’d kissed. Suddenly the lefse tasted nearly tolerable.

When the lutefisk and lefse courses were completed — ah, bliss — the turkey and dressing arrived. It was accompanied by snowy whipped potatoes, scalloped corn, peas in thick cream, and a rich apple and walnut salad in whipped cream.

Throughout the meal Linnea was conscious of Theodore’s eyes roving her way again and again, but whenever she glanced up, he looked somewhere else.

When the meal ended she helped the women with the dishes while the men sprawled out and one by one drifted off to sleep.

When the dishes were finished Linnea peeked into the front parlor. The table had been taken down.

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