Until We Reach Home

  "They will be traveling with first-class tickets, not in steerage," Knute said. "They won't have any problems."

  Kirsten ran her fingers along a worn place on the arm of the sofa, thinking she should crochet a doily to cover it. She could tell that both she and Knute were nervous as they tried to make conversation. She hoped it would get easier once they grew to know each other better.

  "You must be excited to see your son again," she said. "How soon will he arrive?"

  "In about three weeks, if all goes as planned."

  She could think of nothing more to say. Neither, apparently, could Knute. "Well," she said, rising to her feet. "I suppose I should get busy if we're going to have our dinner on time. Are there any groceries in the cupboard?" She felt like a child playing house, preparing to fix mud pies. She had never been in charge of her own kitchen before.

  "I didn't know what to buy, but I can give you some money." He stood to pull out his wallet. "Do you know where the shops are?"

  "Yes. I think we passed some on the way here. What would you like to eat?"

  "Anything is fine. I'm not particular."

  "Well, then ... I guess I'll be back in a little while."

  She took an empty satchel in which to carry her groceries and walked two blocks to the store, fighting the urge to cry. The sun was shining. She had everything she needed for a happy life: a roof over her head, food to eat, and a good man to take care of her. God had answered her prayers. Her baby would have a father and a name. Most important of all, she had a home again. Yes, for the first time since leaving Sweden, Kirsten finally had a real home.

  So why did she feel so empty inside? Why did she still long for something more?

  THE THUNDERING PRINTING presses made the floor tremble. Sofia felt the vibrations tremble through her as she waited with her sisters to speak with Gustav Anderson. Dozens of reporters sat behind paper-strewn desks in the busy newspaper office, pounding on typewriters. The presses occupied the large room below the office area, churning out newspapers with relentless noise.

  "How long do you think it would take to get used to this racket?" Sofia asked. Elfin shrugged.

  "I couldn't stand to work here," Kirsten replied.

  "Doesn't your ... doesn't Knute work here?" Sofia asked. She craned her neck, looking around the room for him. "I don't see him."

  "I don't know where he is or what he does here." Kirsten and Elfin seemed very nervous as they waited to learn why Mr. Anderson had asked to see them. Sofia leaned toward her sisters so she wouldn't have to shout.

  "We don't have to be afraid of him, you know. We didn't do anything wrong."

  "That was true the last time we talked to him, too," Kirsten said, "and we ended up in jail. Remember?"

  "Maybe he wants to apologize to us."

  "Ha!" Kirsten said. "Maybe fairies are real, too."

  Sofia gave up trying to ease the tension and sat back to wait, watching the chaos in the newsroom. At last Mr. Anderson's door opened, and she heard him clear his throat.

  "Thank you for coming, ladies. Please, step inside."

  "Into the lion's den," Kirsten murmured as she rose to her feet. Elfin shushed her.

  But there was nothing lionlike about Gustav Anderson. In fact, he was so small and prim and sharp-featured that he reminded Sofia of a mole. His office had no windows, which probably explained why he was so pale-skinned. The dim interior made him seem even more molelike.

  "Please sit down," he said.

  They obeyed, sitting in the three chairs he had placed in front of his desk. Mr. Anderson took his seat behind it. Elfin and Kirsten looked as stiff as kindling wood as they waited to hear what he had to say. He gazed into the air above their heads, as if unwilling to look them in the eye.

  "I owe you an apology for accusing you of thievery," he said quietly.

  Sofia's mouth fell open in amazement. She fought the urge to give Kirsten a nudge.

  "Under the circumstances, I hope you will understand how easy it was to reach the conclusion that you had taken Mother's jewelry. No one else had access to her bedroom, and the jewelry was clearly missing. Nevertheless, I do apologize for the error."

  None of them spoke, apparently too shocked to respond. Finally Sofia answered for all three of them. "We forgive you, Mr. Anderson."

  "Thank you." He cleared his throat again. "Along with her will, my mother entrusted her lawyer with a letter addressed to me. Most of it is very personal, but she also talked about the three of you. I know that Mother had a gruff exterior and that she probably would never admit it, but she grew very fond of the three of you in the short time you worked for her."

  "We were fond of her, too," Elin said softly. "We miss her."

  Gustav took a moment to shuffle papers around on his desk. He scowled as if trying not to show his emotion, his focus resting everywhere but on the three of them. Sofia thought his behavior was surprising for a wealthy businessman in the comfort of his own office. He cleared his throat again.

  "My mother told me in her letter that she envied you girls. She said you had two things that all of her wealth could never purchase: love for each other and faith in God's forgiveness. She said she learned a great deal from you, and so she wanted to do something for you in return. That's why she sold her jewelry and left the proceeds to the three of you in her will."

  Sofia's pulse quickened. She moved to the edge of her seat, wondering what her sisters were thinking.

  "As you've probably heard, my wife wants to contest Mother's will." He looked up at them, eye to eye, for the first time. "I have ordered her to stop the lawsuit. You will receive the bequest that my mother wanted you to have."

  Sofia leaned back in her chair. She didn't know which surprised her more, the fact that she would receive the money or that Gustav had stood up to Bettina. Neither she nor her sisters seemed to know what to say, so they remained silent, waiting. Gustav picked up a piece of paper, consulting it.

  "Which one of you is Elin?"

  "I-I am."

  "Mother said that of all the nurses who have cared for her over the years, you were the finest. She said you have an intuitive gift for healing. Before she died, she spoke to someone at Augustana Hospital. The institution is more than ten years old, but about three years ago they started a school to train nurses. Mother has arranged for you to be enrolled in their two-year nursing course this fall. She has provided for all of your expenses in her will."

  Tears filled Sofia's eyes as she reached for Elin's hand.

  "If only I had known..." Elin murmured.

  "You're not moving to Wisconsin," Sofia heard Kirsten whisper. "You're going to stay here and be a nurse." Elin slowly shook her head.

  "You must be Kirsten," Gustav continued, nodding in her direction.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Mother described you as intelligent and quick-witted. She was always a firm believer in higher education for women, even though she wasn't educated herself. And so she has arranged for you to attend North Park College up on Foster Avenue. The school is only a half-dozen years old, but they provide a variety of programs for young people from the Swedish community, including English classes."

  Sofia watched a tear roll down Kirsten's cheek. Mr. Anderson must know that it was too late, that she had already married Knute Lindquist.

  "I wish I could thank her," Kirsten said.

  "The scholarship is available whenever you decide to use it." He turned abruptly to Sofia. "You are Sofia, the one who sang at her dinner party."

  "Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper.

  "Mother thought very highly of your musical talent. She cleared the way to have you enrolled at the Sherwood Music Conservatory on Michigan Avenue. She provided money for all of your costs, including living expenses."

  "Oh!" There was so much that Sofia wanted to say, but she couldn't seem to utter another word.

  "Finally, Mother stipulated that any outstanding debt for your tickets to America be paid in full, as well."

 
Sofia didn't know whether to laugh or cry. With their debt paid, Elfin was free to stay in Chicago.

  Kirsten was the first one who was able to speak. "I-I believe I speak for my sisters when I say that ... that we don't know what to say!"

  "It isn't necessary to say anything at all. This was Mother's doing, not mine." He stood as if he wanted them to leave now that he'd appeased his conscience. Sofia and her sisters rose, also. "My mother's lawyer, whom I believe you've met, will handle all of the details of her bequest from now on. You should consult with him to make any further arrangements, not with me."

  "Thank you, Mr. Anderson," Elin said. "We're very grateful to you and your mother." As soon as they were through the door, he closed it behind them. They walked out to the street without saying a word and stood in front of the building, too stunned to start walking, too amazed to decide where to go.

  "If only we had known about the will sooner," Kirsten finally said. "It would have changed everything."

  "At least you can quit working in that theater now," Elfin told Sofia.

  She shook her head. "But I don't want to quit. In the first place, I already signed a contract. And in the second place-" She stopped, deciding not to tell her sisters that she wanted her name to appear on posters so that Ludwig could find her. Kirsten would say that Sofia was foolish to wait for him, that he would have been there by now if he were coming. But Sofia knew Ludwig would find her. "I will search for the one my heart loves," he had promised.

  "And in the second place," she continued, "if I talk to Mr. Lund, maybe he'll let me study at the music conservatory and sing in his show at the same time."

  Elfin sighed. "But promise me that you'll look for someplace else to live. There must be a respectable boardinghouse for women like the one Aunt Hilma runs for men. Mr. Anderson said that all of your expenses would be paid for."

  "That means Sofia can eat, too," Kirsten said, smiling. "And it won't have to be moldy fruit."

  "I promise I'll find a better place," Sofia said. "You and I will live there together, Elfin, while you study to be a nurse. Mrs. Anderson is right-you're going to make a wonderful nurse. I'm so relieved that you can stay here with us now that our tickets are paid for."

  But Elin's expression was sorrowful as she turned away from Sofia. She started walking down the street, away from them. "What's wrong?" Sofia asked when she caught up with her.

  "It's too late. I promised Gunnar and the others I would come to Wisconsin if they still wanted me to. I gave my word, just like you signed a contract and Kirsten spoke her marriage vows. You have to keep your commitments, and if I hear back from Gunnar, I'll have to keep mine."

  "But you were only moving up there in order to repay our debt," Kirsten said. "All they want is their money, right?"

  "No, that's not all. Gunnar and the others are lonely. They want to get married and start families. They want real homes, too, just like we do."

  "But we need you here with us," Sofia said.

  Elfin stopped walking and put her hands on Sofia's shoulders. "No. The truth is that you and Kirsten are all grown up now. You don't need me hovering over you anymore, worrying about you and telling you to be careful. Look at all the things you and Kirsten were able to do on your own."

  "But that doesn't mean we want you to leave!"

  "I know. But let's live one day at a time, Sofia. We'll wait to hear from the men up in Wisconsin, and we won't think about saying goodbye until then, all right?"

  "I think we should stop by the boardinghouse on our way back to the hotel and see if a letter came," Kirsten said.

  "It's much too soon to hear back," Elfin said. "It will take a while for my letter to get all the way up there and for Gunnar to reply."

  "Let's stop anyway," Kirsten said. "I want to tell Aunt Hilma that we're rich now, and gloat in her face."

  "Be nice, Kirsten."

  "Why?" she laughed. "We don't need her anymore."

  They found Aunt Hilma in the boardinghouse kitchen as usual, making a pot of fish chowder for the boarders' dinner. "Oh good," she said when she saw the three of them. "Here you are. I was afraid I would have to send Carl and Waldemar over to that hotel where you're staying after supper. Now you've saved me the trouble."

  "What did you want us for?" Elin asked.

  "I don't want you. A telegram came for you today and I figured it must be important. It's on the hall table."

  Sofia and Kirsten waited in the kitchen while Elin went to retrieve it. She didn't open the envelope until they were well away from Aunt Hilma and her gossiping tongue.

  "Who is it from?" Kirsten asked. "What does it say?"

  Elin's face looked pale as she tore open the envelope. "It's from Gunnar Pedersen. It says, `The offer is still good. We can't wait to meet you. Please come right away.' "

  "Oh no," Kirsten moaned.

  Sofia wanted to sink down in the middle of the sidewalk and weep. She knew Elin would keep her word. They were going to lose their sister. "It's our own fault," Sofia wept. "We took matters into our own hands instead of waiting for God to answer our prayers."

  "Well, God shouldn't have taken so long," Kirsten said.

  "Can't you write to Gunnar and explain about the nursing school?" Sofia asked.

  "No, that wouldn't be fair." Elin lifted her chin in the air, and Sofia knew she was trying to be brave. "I'm going to go up and meet them-and with any luck, none of them will want to marry a scrawny, plain-looking girl like me."

  ELIN TRIED To hold back her tears as she stood on the station platform with her sisters-to no avail. The locomotive chuffed steam and spat out soot, eager to be on its way. Elfin wasn't eager at all.

  "It's so hard to let you go!" Sofia sobbed.

  "I know," Elfin told her. "I know. And it would be impossible to leave you and Kirsten if you both weren't so grown up now and able to make choices for yourselves."

  "We're trusting God," Sofia said.

  Elfin nodded, biting her lip. "That's the wisest choice of all."

  Kirsten gave their battered trunk a kick. Her husband had hired a carriage so they could transport it to the station. "Well, it's not as heavy as it used to be, but you're still stuck with it, Elfin. Promise me you'll chop it up for firewood this winter-and make soap out of the ashes."

  "I'm not going to chop it up," Elin said, smiling through her tears. "I'll keep it to remind me of you."

  "Promise you'll write to us every day?" Sofia asked.

  "Maybe not every day. How will I get any work done?"

  "Here. I want you to have this." Sofia pulled their mother's Bible from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to Elfin.

  "But you need this. You read it all the time."

  "I'm going to buy a new one in English. It will help me learn faster."

  Elfin held the little Bible out to Kirsten. "Do you want it? I feel selfish taking it. It was Mama's."

  Kirsten pushed it away. "No, you keep it. Knute has a Bible I can read. I saw it there with all his other books."

  Sofia handed Elin a small piece of paper, folded in half. "And I want to give you this. It's the last Bible verse that Ludwig gave me before we parted."

  Elfin opened the paper and her eyes filled with tears as she read the words: May the Lord keep watch between you and me when we are far away from each other. Genesis 31:49.

  The train whistle blew.

  Of all the good-byes Elin had said, this one was the hardest. She could never remember a time when Kirsten and Sofia hadn't been in her life. She boarded the train with an aching heart and watched from the window until her sisters were out of sight. She felt like she was traveling to the ends of the earth.

  Tears blurred Elin's journey through the city, past smoking factories and tenement houses and stockyards. But soon the train reached the city limits, and the view through her window expanded, revealing scattered houses and barns, and acres and acres of flat farmland and prairie. It was the first time she had been out of Chicago since arriving last spring, and she had
nearly forgotten what trees and blue sky looked like.

  She rode for hours. The train stopped every once in a while in a small nameless town with a small wooden station. Elfin remembered how she had gazed out at the scenery back in Sweden and had tried to memorize her homeland, fearing she would forget what it looked like. And she had forgotten, for a while, when living in Chicago. But now, as she neared the little village where Gunnar Pedersen lived, Elfin looked out at the gently rolling hills carpeted in green, at the neat squares of cultivated land, at the tidy barns and grazing cows, and she remembered what home was like.

  It looked just like this.

  At last the conductor came up the aisle and removed her ticket from its clip in front of her seat. She didn't understand what he was telling her in English, but she knew from observing the other passengers along the way that when the conductor took passengers' tickets, they always got off at the next stop. She tried to tidy her hair and smooth some of the wrinkles from her skirt, feeling nervous about meeting Gunnar Pedersen and the other men for the first time. She wondered what they would look like-and what they would think of her.

  When the train halted, only one person stood waiting on the platform. Elfin knew it was Gunnar. He looked younger than she had expected yet much bigger, a giant of a man with burly shoulders and forearms like logs. His smooth, round face broke into a smile when Elfin stepped off the train, and he swept off his hat to greet her, revealing comb trails through his damp sandy hair. His eyes were as blue as the sky.

  "Hej, I'm Elfin Carlson. You must be Gunnar." She offered him her hand, and it was swallowed up in his own.

  "You didn't tell me you were so pretty. And as tiny as a little sparrow."

  Elfin had the feeling that Gunnar would have stood there all day with her hand in his, staring at her. But she glanced to one side and noticed a baggage clerk wheeling her trunk down the platform from the baggage car.

  "That's my trunk," she said. "I hope it will fit in your carriage."