The Wooden Chair Read Online Free PDF

Grandma Britta, played the piano.”
    Leini hadn’t quite understood this. “Is my Grandma Britta your mamma?”
    Papi smiled. “Yes, Leini. And your grandpa is my dad, my papi.”
    She nodded. “That’s good.” She thought for a minute, feeling something swell in her throat. “Mamma doesn’t have a…a mamma and papi.”
    He had caressed her hair. “That’s true. Her mamma and papi died—they went to heaven.”
    Sad, Leini almost sobbed. “Mamma is all alone.”
    “No, Leini girl, there you’re wrong. She has you and me. And there’s Karl, her brother. We all love her very much.”
    With a short intake of breath, she now remembered Karl’s gift. She tore open the paper. “Look, Grandma Britta, a book.”
    Grandma Britta leafed through the pages. “It’s a coloring book.” She searched through the wrapping paper. “And here are color pencils, too.” She handed Leini a longish metal box.
    Opening the lid, Leini touched a finger to the tips of the pencils, but a yawn escaped her. She closed the box to save coloring for later and wiggled against the back of the settee. She was startled when Mamma put an arm around her waist and lifted her to sit on her lap.
    “How are you, my baby?”
    With snap of her head Leini glanced at Mamma. Joy, like a butterfly’s wing, fluttered inside. Had she heard right? Had Mamma really said “My baby”? Surprised at the unexpected endearment, she had to make sure. “What did you say?”
    “I asked how you are.” Although Mamma didn’t repeat the kind words, her voice was softer than usual.
    Leini pressed her body closer. “I’m good.” She wrapped her arms around Mamma’s neck and held tight, cheek pressed against Mamma’s breast.
    Mamma sat still, back very straight, legs crossed, holding Leini in the slack circle of her arms. Leini wished Mamma would hug her back, but she was stiff and hard, her lap not so nice. Like the wooden chair in the kitchen in Helsinki.
    After a while, Mamma poked Leini in the ribs with her fingers, hurting her.
    “Stop clinging to me,” she said. “And you’re crushing my dress.”
    Leini slipped off her lap. With her back against the window, she stood on one leg, the other curled under her on the seat. Looking at Mamma, her lips trembled, eyes growing misty. “You didn’t lose me like you said.”
    “What!” Grandpa’s voice was like a lash. He gave Mamma a piercing look. “Did you lose Leini?”
    Mamma whipped her head around and fastened her eyes on him. “No, Grandpa.” She spoke in a firm tone. Without wavering she stared at him. She called him “Grandpa” to be polite, but Leini once heard her tell Papi she was afraid of Grandpa and that she didn’t like him. Leini couldn’t understand why. She loved Grandpa.
    “Of course she didn’t get lost. How can you think I’d be so careless? My only child? I like her.” She turned to Leini. “Isn’t it true, baby? You know Mamma likesyou?”
    Leini was confused. Her fingers twirled a strand of hair, pulling it so tight her scalp burned. Looking first at Grandpa, then at Mamma, she caught Grandma Britta smiling at her. She shrugged, didn’t dare look at Mamma again. “Don’t know.” Her fingers twirled and twirled the strand of hair.
    Mamma sat cross-legged, the upper foot kicking up and down with jerky movements, her lips pursed as she stared fixedly past Leini’s ear.
    Now Mamma will be angry with me again. I should have said I know she likes me. It’s a lie, but Mamma always says a white lie isn’t a real lie.
    * * *
    Slowly, Mira looked away from Leini. She fished a cigarette from her handbag, lit it, took a deep drag.
    Grandpa harrumphed. He fixed Mira with a cold stare. “You keep smoking. Where do those cigarettes come from?”
    Mira twitched in her seat from the unexpected question and his piercing eyes. What business does the old man have to question what I do? I don’t ask him for anything. Staring through the window, she muttered something