He looks so forlorn, even with Toivo climbing his chest and putting tiny paws on his face, nudging his nose with his. I smile in spite of myself. Why are we doing this to each other? Another thing that the break-up with Cole has taught me is that it’s never a good idea to dwell too much on things that can’t be changed.
‘Look, let’s forget about it. Its ancient history,’ I say, standing up and balling my hands into fists on my hips. ‘Listen up, Stellan Virtanen, it’s Christmas Eve, you’ve taken your second day off work this millennia, and I damn well want to celebrate.’ As I speak, my fake resolve and jollity begin to take on a more authentic hue, and I see Stellan’s eyes brighten as he looks up at me. ‘So what say we down this bubbly and decorate this tree?’
And that’s what we do, and it’s fun, actually. No, better than fun; it’s perfect.
I make a real show of finding it difficult to balance on the coffee table edge to reach the tallest branches so Stellan has to hold my hips to steady me and he lets his fingertips slide up over my waistband until they press against my skin, and then I really do feel unsteady on my feet.
‘We don’t want any Christmas emergencies,’ he says, holding me firmly. ‘The nearest hospital’s an hour away by helicopter and in this snow they wouldn’t be able to rescue you. I’d have to take you all the way there on the back of a reindeer.’
And so we manage to laugh after the tension, and I turn to admiring the cute, rustic-looking decorations, and Toivo gets hopelessly tangled in the string of white fairy lights, nearly managing to pull the whole tree over in his tumbling, bounding panic to escape.
When we are nearly done, Stellan puts the straw star on the highest branch and the whole scene inside the cabin begins to resemble the kitschy picture on a tin of Christmas biscuits. Just as I’m telling Stellan this, he reaches into the basket that had held the decorations and pulls out one last item, not a bauble at all, but a large jar with a handwritten label attached to a ribbon tied around its lid.
‘What’s that?’ I ask, as he helps me down from my ledge on the coffee table and places the jar in my hands.
‘Thisis cookie mixture. Frozen Falls’ little surprise for our guests. Want to bake some cookies?’
I screw up my nose. ‘I want toeatsome cookies.’
Stellan laughs and takes the jar from me.
‘How long will it take?’ I say as I hop up onto the kitchen counter top, watching him rolling up his sleeves.
‘Not long, and we have the whole evening ahead to just enjoy each other’s company, really chilled, yes?’
I find myself blushing at this, but as I watch him setting to work with eggs cracking and wooden spoon stirring, I wonder how such innocuous words can sound so full of promise.
Soon, the little chocolate chip speckled blobs are lined up on a tray and heading into the oven. The snow is falling outside the window and I’m beginning to realise it’s probably been completely dark out there for hours already; I haven’t been paying any attention to the world outside.
Our plates are discarded by the fireside. We’d made short work of the cheese and bread, and drank all the champagne. Little Toivo is basking in the warmth from the hearth as he lies fast asleep, curled up beneath the branches of our twinkling tree.
‘Ten minutes and they’ll be ready,’ Stellan says, turning away from the oven and looking across at me. ‘What shall we do while we wait?’
I lose no time in telling him I have a good idea as I lower myself down from the counter, place my hands on his chest and slowly walk him backwards until he’s pinned and grinning against the refrigerator door.
‘My hands are covered in cookie mixture,’ he protests, all the while looking at my mouth.
I raise myself up onto tiptoes, leaning my weight against him, and he lowers his lips to mine.
We kiss away the shortest ten minutes in the history of the world, and all the time Stellan’s hands hang helplessly by his sides.
Chapter Eighteen
The bar is a dive, but Nari had asked to see the Saariselkä nightlife and at only three-thirty in the afternoon there was little else open. It is, of course, already dark outside and they are the only customers in the Shamrocks in the Snow beer shack. Nari takes her seat at the bar and peers at the drinks menu under the harsh spotlights.
‘I guess it’s Guinness and peanuts?’ she says with an amused shrug.
Niilo reminds her he’s the designated driver on their date and asks instead for water. The look on Nari’s face gives him a drowning feeling, but wanting to reassure her they’ll have fun tonight, he searches for something to say.
‘You looked busy when I called for you at the resort. Have you been working all day?’ he asks eventually.
‘Uh-huh. I edited some of my photos and posted a couple more blog posts. What about you? Did the reindeer safaris go OK?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
Niilo can’t understand why he’s finding communicating with Nari so difficult today when the words and laughter had flowed so readily the day before. It had been easier with Stellan and Sylvie there, somehow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone like this with someone, or when he’d last felt this awkward. He’s relieved to see the barman approach, surprised to find customers in his empty pub and offering his apologies.
Nari can’t guess at the nerves and tension wracking Niilo as she orders their drinks. The barman works the beer tap and Nari turns to Niilo with a placid smile. ‘Is this what you do for fun, then?’
