“That’s not self-indulgent. I think I’d wonder the same thing if I were in your shoes. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, anything,” she says.
“Were you close with my mom before she left?”
She nods. “I was. We’d spend many summers in the courtyard garden, embroidering together over a fare like this one.”
“Did you know she wanted to leave?”
“I did, and although it worried me, I knew that it was truly what her heart desired. However, after Pala left to be with Clinton, I was destroyed. I spent all this time grooming Pala, teaching her the ways of a queen, having a gentle heart and a lifting soul, and then she fell in love.” She shakes her head. “I know what it means to fall in love, and from the looks of it, so do you.” I give her a brief smile and she continues. “And I’m not mad at her for falling in love. She has a beautiful life with her husband and three children, but I was scared because I barely saw her, and I didn’t want to lose Margret as well.” She lets out a pained sigh. “I handled everything so poorly. I took what I was feeling toward Pala and tried to trap Margret. I think we all know if you attempt to tame a mustang, they’ll run.”
“Why didn’t you ever reach out like King Theo?”
“Pride. Embarrassment. Hurt. I thought that if I ignored the situation that maybe she’d come back, maybe come to her senses and find home again. But the more I waited, the more she created her own home.” Katla lifts a napkin to her eye. “I feel such shame over it all, and when Theo said he sent Keller to find you, well, it felt like this sprig of hope blossomed in my stomach. But I didn’t want to let that hope turn into something more. That’s why I wasn’t on the calls with you and Keller. I knew if I saw you, I would break down and beg you to see us. Theo was very adamant about you making your own decision.”
“So was Keller, and I respect that about all of you, that you let me process the role—my history—on my own terms. I was able to make an unbiased decision on what to do.”
“That was Theo’s hope, because this is a different life from what you’re used to. He wanted to make sure your heart was in the right place.”
“And it is,” I answer.
“I know, Lilija, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I can see it in your eyes. Being here makes you happy.”
“It does.” Now it’s my turn to fidget with my napkin.
Over the last week or so, I’ve had to comprehend that my mom and dad basically lied to me. And that’s a tough one to digest, because they were my world. Knowing they withheld the truth about my heritage, family, and homeland has made me angry. I think part of my lashing out at Keller, pushing him to want me, possibly stems from that. But they’re not here to work through this... grief. Anger. And I refuse to hold on to that either. If I can forgive my parents for that, I need to forgive my grandmother for any part she played as well. I’ve missed out on twenty-seven years of having her in my life, and I don’t want to miss out on any more.
“I want you to know that I hold nothing against you. What happened between you and my mom? That’s in the past. I want to build a foundation from here. I want to spend time with you and Theo. I want to hear your memories. I want to see more from her life here. And I want to continue learning about Torskethorpe and this country’s amazing people. I want to make my mom proud.”
“She’d be so proud of you,” Katla says, reaching out and taking my hand in hers.
“You think so?”
“Yes, I know so.”
My eyes get misty, and I quickly pull away to blot at them. “Ugh, I don’t think I’ve ever cried as much until I came here. Something is happening to me.”
She chuckles. “Well, why don’t we talk about something that won’t make you cry?” She sips from her glass of iced tea. “Tell me more about you and Keller.”
I can’t help the smile that pulls across my lips. “It started as enemies to lovers, and slowly over time, I wore him down.”
Katla laughs. “I like the start of this story.”
* * *
“Areall days going to be like this?” I ask Keller as I lie on my bed and spread out my arms. “I’m exhausted, and my feet hurt so bad.”
“Some days might be worse,” he says softly as he sits on the end of my bed. He takes one of my feet in his hands, removes my sock, and massages the bottom with his strong thumbs.
“Oh God,” I moan. “That feels amazing.”
“Moan like that again, and you’ll find out what else is amazing.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I ask while I rest my head back on the bed.
“It can be,” he says in a dark voice that sends a shiver up my spine. No use in testing him, he’s proven himself sufficiently.
“Aren’t you tired?” I ask him.
