“Do you have a key or is Christer coming down to open?”
They were over by the community centre to plan how to place the different tables and where the salespeople would be standing. Christmas market at Sardinön was a popular event and they had gotten more feedback than Emelie could have dreamed of.
“He said he would open for us,” she told him, walking up to the door and knocking on it.
As they were standing shivering out on the stairs, Emelie observed Andreas when he wasn’t looking. He was wearing a new jacket, or at least she thought it was new, and it was in a nice blue shade that made his eyes look even bluer. What was this obsession she had with eyes? It had been exactly same with Ousman. He had nutbrown eyes that you could drown in, and that’s exactly what she had done. She had fallen head over heels in love with him and he had felt the same way. At least she had thought so. Considering that he had taken off just like that, she wasn’t so sure anymore, even though they had spent many years together. Her thoughts were interrupted by Andreas’ voice.
“What are you looking at?”
She realised that she was staring and hurried to look at the door instead.
“Er, no, nothing, I was just thinking about something,” she said.
“What could that possibly be? Perhaps my nice new jacket?” he suggested.
“Yes, perhaps”, Emelie laughed and knocked on the door again.
They heard someone call from the inside and a couple of seconds later Christer was standing in the doorway, a big grin on his lips.
“Blimey, it’s nice to see some people,” he exclaimed. “I’m making coffee.
They took off their coats in the hallway of the community centre, and then climbed the steep stairs. Christer had set the table with coffee cups and plates decorated with green leaves on a white background.Bersåwas the name of the set and Emelie secretly wished that Astrid could have collected those lovely Rörstrand pieces instead of cups with pigs and Santas. They were worth quite a bit these days, while tea sets with Christmas trees and gifts weren’t worth anything at all. Emelie and Andreas sat down at the table, patiently listening to everything that Christer hadn’t had a chance to tell anyone over the last three days – which was quite a bit. Eventually, Emelie managed to get a question in.
“Are you completely recovered now?”
Christer grinned and winked at her.
“Oh yes, I’m as good as new. And when it’s time for the market I’ll be able to carry and build just like everyone else.”
“Yes, it must have been boring to sit here all by yourself,” Andreas added.
“You’ll have to get yourself a girlfriend,” Emelie said, smiling.
Christer’s eyes darkened.
“No, women can’t be trusted, I should know”, he said crossly.
Emelie was about to protest, when she happened to see the look on Andreas’ face. There’s no point, don’t kick that hornet’s nest, it was saying, so she didn’t. Instead, she suggested that they should start on the measurements for the different tables, and she and Andreas thanked Christer for the coffee and went downstairs again. On the way down, she got a text message from Sussi saying that there was already a lot of traffic on the website and that there seemed to be a huge interest for the Christmas market. Emelie responded that the event was also buzzing with interested salesmen and visitors. She got a happy smiley-lady in return and then went back to placing the tables.
“I can put pine inside the door and on the stairs,” Andreas said. “It will look nice and also it takes some of the dirt off the shoes, so the guests don’t bring it inside.”
“That sounds wonderful. Do you have any other plans for decorations?”
He looked around, pointing to the windows that were tall and arched with broad windowsills.
“I’m growing poinsettias in Astrid’s old bed, I can replant them into smaller pots and put those in the windows,” he said. “I have white and red ones, and if anyone is interested in buying one, that is fine too.”
“And we need to give the place a proper cleaning,” Emelie said, swiping a finger over the café desk. It got all grey with dust and she looked around for something to wipe it on. Andreas found a tissue in his pocket and went over to her. He took her hand and softly started wiping her finger.
“There, as good as new,” he said, smiling.
She returned his smile, feeling the warmth between them. Or perhaps it was just his way of making friends with her since she was Linn’s mum. She pushed all her emotions to the side, telling herself that someone that was only thirty couldn’t possibly think that a forty-year-old woman with three children could be very interesting. Naturally Linn, who was nineteen, was more his style, but he was so lovely, and she couldn’t help but daydream a little. Her and Andreas walking hand in hand. Spending time on the beach with the girls. Arranging the Christmas market as a great team. In bed after a steamy night…No, she really had to stop it! She pulled her hand back, but a bit slower than she had planned.
“What do you say? Should we continue?”
He nodded, and they carried on for another hour planning the cleaning and where Astrid’s café would be. Emelie took notes about everything, and she was going to put it into the Excel-file when she came back home. Her and Andreas were working so well together; it was like they had always been a team and, by the time they left the community centre, Emelie had a warm and peaceful feeling in her stomach. Even though she was aware that he wasn’t into her, it was nice to be able to feel like that for a while.
It was time to make the first batch of mulled wine and Linn had worked for days on the preparations. They needed a big bucket and she had found one in the cellar. She had cleaned it out with chlorine in the shower upstairs and then carefully rinsed it several times to get rid of the smell. Chlorine-smelling mulled wine probably wasn’t a hit. All the bottles were ready to be filled, and she had bought new rubber rings to keep the air out. Emelie was standing by to help Linn with whatever she might need, but she didn’t interfere with the way she did it. This was Linn’s project and Emelie was impressed with her determination and patience. It wasn’t just the mulled wine – no, Linn had made test batches of Lucia buns and cream rings from Astrid’s baking book and if they didn’t turn out exactly the way she wanted them, she would do it all over again. Now she was walking back and forth in the kitchen, muttering to herself with one hand under her chin. Looking at the ingredients, moving the bucket, reading the baking book. Then she stretched and looked at her mother.
