Page 62 of Circle of Days
“And sex too, I presume?”
“If you wish.”
“You don’t sound enthusiastic.”
Pia almost laughed. Who could be enthusiastic about sex with this mediocrity?
Yana said to Bort: “I’d be guided by what you want.”
“A good principle for a woman to follow.”
Pia almost hoped he would refuse Yana. Her mother could never even like this man, let alone love him. But she needed him.
Bort said: “I’d say I’m flattered but, thinking about it, there isn’t really another man available, is there?”
There was not, but Yana tactfully did not say so.
Bort said: “Deg, what do you think?”
Pia began to worry. Bort had not eagerly jumped at the opportunity he was being offered. In itself that was surprising. A bigger and better farm, plus an attractive woman younger than him by about ten midsummers: what did he need to think about?
Deg pondered for a while, then said: “It’s up to you really, Father.”
Bort turned to Pia. “And what about you, young woman? Do you have an opinion about this?”
“I hope you accept, Bort,” she said. “I won’t be living with Mamma forever, and when I leave I’ll be glad you’re there to look after her.” She had never in her life uttered such an insincere sentence.
“Well, then, I must decide,” said Bort.
Pia realized that Bort was enjoying this. Perhaps it was nice to be in demand.
He paused, then at last said: “I’m saying no.”
Pia did not know whether to be glad or sorry. Her mother looked equally ambivalent.
Bort went on: “I don’t want a different farm and a new woman, or any other changes in my life. I plan to work on this farm until Deg brings home a woman, and then I’ll continue to work here but not so hard.”
It could be a long time before the milk-and-water Deg brought a woman home, Pia guessed.
“I don’t know how old I am, but in any case I’m ready for a rest,” Bort went on. “So I’ll stay here.”
Yana got to her feet, and Pia did the same. Both put a brave face on their rejection. Yana said: “Thank you for listening to me, Bort,and I wish you and Deg well for the future.” She turned and left, and Pia followed.
When they were out of earshot, Yana said: “What a humiliation, to be rejected by someone so unattractive!”
Pia felt that, too, but she was thinking about the consequences. “He was the only prospect,” she said. “So what happens next?”
“I don’t know,” said Yana.
They went to see Troon on the day of the deadline.
He lived in a house built of the same materials as an ordinary house but larger. He had a lot of possessions, Pia noticed: a basketful of hazelnuts, a stack of firewood, pots with unknown contents, and shearling winter coats—made from sheepskins that had been tanned with the hair left on—hanging from wooden pegs. He had no farm, so everything he ate or wore came from others. If he asked you for something, it was dangerous to say no.
He was there with Stam, sitting on one of several leather floor mats. Yana and Pia sat facing them, and Troon’s woman, Katch, offered them cool water in pottery bowls. She had an anxious, embarrassed look. Pia guessed she was sympathetic to Yana but scared to defy Troon.
Yana said: “I have done my best to meet your demand. I proposed to Bort.”
“A good choice,” said Troon.
