Page 35 of Just For Her

“Why, Tove…” The woman was consumed by the noon-high sun’s glare, but Tove soon recognized the unforgettable stench of June Fredriksson’s perfume. The scent was so powerful that it permeated the entire patio, and Tove had to focus on the high-pitched ringing in her ear that June’s voice brought. “It’s been too long. Who is this lovely dove you have with you?”

The thing about June wasn’t that she looked modelesque young for her age, for she was about two years older than Tove. It was the heavy way she carried herself as if she bore the burdens of her family upon her delicate, bony shoulders. Yet the wife of Nils and mother of Elias (both of whom were first sons in the Gustav line) only became more powerfully frail with her age. She was thin enough to fade away in a strong gust and strong enough to knock Tove over the railing if she was pissed to high heaven.I’ve seen it for myself.Rumor was that June ran her household with the kind of iron fist that Aunt Kiersten would have wielded had she ever graduated from spinsterhood. No wonder they were close in the family. Both Tove and June called the matriarch “aunt,” but it was June the outsider who outranked Tove the blood relative.

And this woman hid her reactions so well that, to the day, Tove couldn’t ever completely read her. She often wondered if June had genuine reactions to anything anymore.

“June.” As usual, Tove was pleasant to a fault, especially to her cousin by marriage. “How lovely to see you after so long! Allow me to introduce you to my new friend Kayla Smith. Kayla, this is June Fredriksson, my cousin Nils’s wife.” As an aside, she added, “Nils is Thomas’s older brother.”

“Oh! Iloveyour perfume!” Kayla was a ball of friendly energy as she stuck her hand forward to shake June’s dainty fingers. “What is that? Couldn’t be Ambrose de Versailles. I thought it was discontinued.Lovethat fragrance, though.”

The tiniest smile imaginable cracked June’s face. “Charmed. I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before, Ms. Smith.”

“Please, call me Kayla.” A hand far more robust than June’s flittered through the air as Kayla crossed her legs and nearly lost the shoe off her floating foot. “You know, Tove’s told me so much about her family already, but this is my first time becoming acquainted with somebody who isn’t Thomas. Thick as thieves, aren’t you all?”

The faint geniality of June’s old smile was now replaced with the pleasant falsehood Tove was more used to seeing on her cousin’s face. “May I ask where you’re from, Kayla?”

Tove did not butt in, although she kept one eye on Kayla. “Sherwood. On the outskirts of Portland. I just moved to Bend.”

“Have you? I see it’s treating you very well if you’re already on our humble family estate. Did you know Tove before you moved here? Perhaps met on the internet?”

Usually, Tove knew how to keep her reactions to herself, especially when around the more influential members of the Gustav line.I don’t like what she’s implying.She supposed things stunk of an online relationship coming true. How desperate did people think Tove was?

“No. We met a month ago when I first moved here.” To her credit, Kayla played the game perfectly. “She and Thomas have been so kind to me. You have a wonderful family… June, was it?”

“Yes.” She said that to Kayla, yet it was Tove who June shared her fragile movements with. “I will leave you two alone.” Two fingers pressed against Tove’s shoulder. “See you around.”

Tove heaved a sigh of relief when June resumed what looked like a funeral march inside the country club manor. “That could have gone worse,” she muttered. “It could have been…”

A more daunting figure marched onto the patio, silver curls catching the eye of everyone who knew Kiersten Fredriksson.

She was coming straight for Tove and Kayla the moment she saw them.

“Look alive,” Tove said to her girlfriend, who had resumed perusing the lunch menu. “‘The Imperial March’ has started playing.”

Instead of a black garb, however, Aunt Kiersten donned the eclectic colors of a floor-length maxi dress. Red, orange, and yellow screamed her arrival at the same time she rearranged the dusty scarf around her neck. What people like Kayla didn’t know, however, was that Kiersten wore high necks and scarves to hide the non-cancerous moles that had popped up like a necklace around her throat the moment she hit menopause. The woman, who had never married despite the desperate number of suitors she courted in her youth, was as vain today as she had been when Tove was born into this family of depraved idiots.

Here’s the queen of them all now.For as long as Tove could remember, Kiersten had been in charge, a title bestowed upon her when her mother and father died two years apart. Other family members had been much older and wiser than her at the time, but she was the oldest child of her generation’s Gustav line, andnobodyelse had the gumption, wit, and cynicism required to lead the family toward the new millennium. By the time there were other contenders for her title of Matriarch (or Patriarch, as she was prepared to ensure with her passing one day) her rule was absolute. Kiersten Fredriksson was in charge, and nobody – least of all a young and depressed Tove – could have changed that even if she wanted.

Instead, she played Aunt Kiersten’s games. She entered deals for the sake of peace. She became the go-to girl, the fixer, the accountant who did her best to steer people like Kiersten away from tax fraud while getting her the most breaks possible. All for their twenty-year truce that had kept Tove out of the matriarch’s crosshairs.

Until now.

“What a fascinating sight.” There was no invitation, nor any presumption that Kiersten was here to kiss cheeks and shake hands. She pulled a chair away from another table and helped herself to the best view at Tove and Kayla’s – right on time for another procession of golf carts to putter along the path. “Tove. Our Tove. With a woman none of us have ever seen before.”

She never looked away from Kayla, who kept her back straight and countenance tranquil. Tove was grateful for the white half-sweater that ensured Kayla didn’t violate the dress code.Although she is wearing white before Memorial Day…Hmph. Only Aunt Kiersten could possibly care about that. Which meant she probably did.

“What a beautiful day to run into you at the club, Aunt Kiersten.” Tove enunciated that name with a volume usually unbecoming of her, but it ensured Kayla heard it. She had been warned – extensively – that this was the woman to behave around if they wanted the least amount of drama possible in town.

Although Kiersten sat at their small table, her emotional distance was so strong that Tove wondered if she penetrated her aunt’s skull at all.

“Aren’t you a sweet thing?” Kiersten still only had a gaze marked for Kayla, who became more noticeably uncomfortable as the focus remained on her. “Tell me, what’s your name, girl?”

How old does she think Kayla is?Tove was the first to understand how much younger people in their twenties could seem to someone over fifty, but Kiersten spoke as if Kayla was out of high school when she couldn’t be further from the truth. The only reason Tove completely went with the age gap between her and Kayla was because the younger woman was well into her thirties. At that point, who gave a crap?

“Kayla.” This time, Kayla did not offer to shake hands with the nosy family member. “Kayla Smith. You must be the woman I’ve heard about so much. I love your dress, by the way.”

Kiersten interrupted her without a hint of shame. “You’ve heard about me, huh?” Finally, she gave Tove a sliver of attention. “I can only imagine what our Tove has told you. Did you know that I only found out about this through Gretchen? She saw you two canoodling at Giuseppe’s the other night. Now here you are, in broad daylight at our family establishment. My, my.” Kiersten was back to Kayla, who lost some of the strength in her shoulders. “Our Tove is a clever girl, isn’t she? Someone must have told her that I knew. Who was it? Nils? No. Thomas. You two are ‘thick as thieves’ as it gets between family lines.”

You’ve been talking to June.What a quick conversation that must have been inside the manor. Tove could only imagine it now:“They are out there right now.” “Are they? Tell me everything.” “The child dared to comment on my perfume. Such a kiss-up. Something about our family being ‘thick as thieves.’ Do something about it, please.”

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