Page 3 of The Christmas Book Flood

TWO

Darkness had long ago fallen, bringing with it a biting cold wind off the water.

That wasn’t enough to keep Tatiana inside though, not with the promise of her niece’s arrival any minute.

She’d hurried home from work, changed from her stylish pumps into sturdy snow boots and a longer woolen skirt than she’d worn to the office, and come back outside to wait.

She stood in a circle of light from the streetlamp, grateful that the Americans had never succeeded in instituting the blackouts they’d at first demanded.

The mayor had kept putting them off, insisting the threat to Iceland by the Luftwaffe was minimal, and it had proven true enough that their occupiers had let the subject drop.

Tatiana paced around the circle of light, trying to keep her feet from going numb in the cold.

“Evening, Tatta,” her neighbor, Ofelia, said as she approached the entrance to their building. Her arms were full of grocery bags, so Tatiana leapt for the door to hold it for her.

“Hello, Ofelia.” Though her face was freezing, she had no trouble offering a smile for the woman who had adopted her as another granddaughter within a week of her moving in. “Find what you needed at the grocer’s?”

Ofelia made a face, sending a beautiful web of wrinkles fanning out from her eyes. “At this rate I’ll only have sugar enough for a batch or two of Christmas treats. And I’ve been saving it up so long!”

Tatiana had been saving her rations too, intending to give them to either Ofelia or Aunt Beta to use in their holiday baking.

.. but that was before she knew Elea would be here.

Now she was planning to bake some treats herself, and since she hadn’t ever mentioned her intentions to her neighbor or aunt.

.. well, they’d understand, regardless.

“I know. I’ve made a list of Elea’s favorites, and I’ll let her pick which two or three we can make. ”

“Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be a day when the rationing stops.” Ofelia smiled though as she lingered in the doorway, gaze on Tatiana. “Not that we have anything to complain about. There’s still fresh milk, potatoes, fish...”

“And paper,” Tatiana added with a grin of her own. Paper had never been rationed at all, which made books one of the few readily-available luxuries. And now that people had extra money to spend on them... well, business was booming at the Story Society.

Her neighbor chuckled and stepped inside. “Indeed. I can’t wait for my order from the Book Bulletin to arrive.”

“Soon,” Tatiana could promise. She knew that the other publishers in Reykjavik were working as hard as her own was to get all those orders processed and shipped out to arrive in time for Christmas.

Easier said than done, given the number of orders still pouring in.

The response to Iceland’s first joint-effort book catalogue, which the country’s publishing companies had decided to put out this year to celebrate their new independence from Denmark, had exceeded all their expectations.

The catalogue had gone to every household in Iceland—an investment that was a gamble for the companies.

But Valdi had said today after a meeting with the other publishers that they were all showing more profits for the season than in the past three years combined, and there were still two weeks left for orders to come in.

The Book Bulletin was a smashing success.

Her blood still buzzed a bit when she thought of it.

Thought of all those books soon to arrive in all those homes.

Of all the hands that would receive them, wrap them, give them.

Of all the faces that would be limned with delight when they tore away those wrappings and saw the hours of joy waiting inside each cover.

Apparently her continued awe at being part of such a miracle was on her face, given the way Ofelia laughed and reached out to pat her cheek with a mittened hand. “Sweet Tatta. Bring Elea round when you have the time. I’m eager to see how big she’s grown.”

“I will.” She shut the door behind her neighbor and turned back to the street when the rumble of a lorry’s engine broke the relative quiet of the star-studded evening.

The streetlights glinted off the dented, rusting vehicle, making her grin anew.

Lambi Larsson had been driving that same lorry for over a decade already and would be driving it still until it fell apart, she had no doubt.

She waved as it squealed to a halt, dashing into the street to open the passenger-side door. “Elea!”

Her niece turned toward her, but no smile turned her lips. No laughter bubbled forth. No little arms flew around her. Instead, a quiet “Hey, Aunt Tatta” slipped out as Elea slid off the bench seat and to the ground.

Tatiana’s brows pinched together, and she sent a questioning look to Lambi. Her old neighbor, her father’s childhood best friend, sighed. “It was a quiet trip,” he said, reaching for the handle of the small suitcase sitting on the seat between them. “I’ll take this up for you.”

“Thanks. There’s dinner and coffee ready, if you’re hungry, Lambi.” With a hand on Elea’s shoulder, she led her off the street and toward her building.

Lambi waved that away. “Kind of you, but I need to get to my cousin’s.”

She nodded, not minding that she’d be left alone with her niece sooner rather than later.

Elea’s small, gloved fingers found their usual place in her hand as they moved into the building and up the stairs.

“We’re going to have so much fun,” Tatiana promised as they climbed.

“I’ll tell you all my ideas as we eat, and you can decide what all we’ll do. ”

Elea gave a slow, disinterested nod, making Tatiana press her lips together. It was no surprise that her niece was sad to be away from her parents for Christmas. Even so, this was the first time in years she’d not been greeted with an enthusiastic hug.

She’d left the door to her flat unlocked and soon had it open so that Lambi could bring the suitcase in. He left again with a warm farewell and a “Glethileg jol!”

Tatiana returned the “Merry Christmas” and closed the door behind him. Pivoting back to Elea, who still stood just inside the door, she clapped her hands together. “Well. Let’s get our coats and boots off and eat. Are you hungry?”

Elea’s only answer was a shrug as she reached for her buttons.

Emotions—hope and fear and so many others—twisted up inside Tatiana as she toed off her own boots and hung her coat on the rack by the door.

Elea was sometimes quiet, but never before had she seen her so sullen.

After she’d put away all their winter things, she crouched down before her niece and clasped her shoulders. “Are you all right, hugljuf ?”

She often called her niece “sweet one,” but when tears gathered in Elea’s eyes, Tatiana silently berated herself for the choice—it was what Ari always called her too.

She ought to have chosen a different endearment.

Afraid to say anything else and make it worse, she opted for pulling Elea into a tight embrace.

There. Little arms came around her and held on tight, and a moment later, a sob caught in Elea’s throat.

It brought answering tears to Tatiana’s eyes.

She pulled them over to the sofa without letting go and sat, Elea climbing into her lap.

Soon, she’d be too big for such a position, but just now, it was what they both needed.

Tatiana wrapped her arms around the little one and rocked back and forth with her.

Many minutes later, Elea’s cries quieted to gasps for breath. Tatiana rubbed a hand lightly over her back in the way she’d always liked. “There now,” she whispered. “It’s going to be all right.”

Elea buried her face in Tatiana’s chest. “Sorry,” she managed between shaking breaths.

“You don’t need to apologize.” She pressed a kiss to the top of her niece’s blonde head.

“I know this isn’t easy, being away from home for Christmas.

But we’re going to have a wonderful time, you and I.

You’ll see. You’re going to come to the office with me, and do you know who has a little desk set up for you in his outer office?

Anders Johannsson! You’ll be right beside Helga. ”

Elea didn’t lift her face. “Why not in your office?”

Her laugh came out a bit forced. “Because I’ll be spending far too many hours in the warehouse, overseeing all the orders from the Book Bulletin. Did you see it? Our catalogue? Did you pick out any books you want?”

Never one to be distracted by shiny things, Elea finally leaned back enough to meet Tatiana’s gaze—her own far harder than a seven-year-old’s should be. “You won’t even be there?”

Bother. Anders’s and Helga’s company was supposed to be a treat, not a sentence.

“The warehouse is in the basement, so I won’t be far.

And if you’d rather come down with me, that’s fine too.

” She had no idea if it was or not, actually—she hadn’t thought to ask Uncle Valdi if that would be possible.

But if her uncle disapproved, he would at least take it up privately with Tatiana and not say something in front of Elea, she knew.

“Or if you’d rather, you could visit Grandaunt Beta during the days. ”

The quiver of Elea’s lips said she did not rather.

All right then. The office it was. “Do you know what else we have in our common room? Shelves full of all the books we’ve published.

There’s an entire bookcase full of children’s books, and you’ll be able to read any you like.

” That she knew Uncle Valdi would approve.

He’d in fact said to pay attention to which ones she favored, and he’d give them to her for Christmas.

Elea sniffed and wiped at her cheeks. “ Sagas for Children ? Mamma wouldn’t let me bring mine. She said they took up too much room.”