Gunnilda sees something new

Gunnilda whisked off her apron and smoothed her hair before she went to the door. She was expecting Githa, and Githa always scolded her if she looked untidy.

She still didn’t know how Githa did it – it seemed they each did the same amount of housework, and each had a husband that was less than tidy, and they each had a girl of nine or so to help out. Of course, Githa had only one toddler while Gunnilda had hers plus the little rascal that was Beddy. But they both had once had more…

Oh! she wouldn’t think of that. After all, each was expecting another: Githa in May and Gunnilda in June. She had made up her mind to be happy about that. None of her nonsense!

She put on a smile and opened the door.

But it wasn’t Githa.

“Oh! Egelric!”

The sudden shock of seeing him was like opening the door onto a gust of bitter wind that sucked her breath away. Only it wasn’t like a cold wind… no, no, not cold at all.

He too seemed surprised to see her, even though she was the most likely person to open the door… but of course! He was looking at her belly. He hadn’t even known.

In the moment it took both of them to catch their breath, she took him all in. She hadn’t seen him in months. She hadn’t seen him in so long that he had had time to visibly age, she thought. His tanned face had grown more hollow, more lined, and his brows were gathered together over the top of his nose, as if in a permanent scowl, though it might have been that they had taken the habit of hunching over his eyes to protect them from the sun as he stared up tall walls all day. And there were more gray hairs in his beard now, thick and stiff like silver wires, though his head was still dark – and he still held it high.

“Forgive me – it seems I am not the person you were expecting,” he said with a wry smile.

She wanted to say that she had long ago given up expecting to see him. But instead she laughed, “Oh, no! I was only looking for Githa. She’ll be along if you care to wait.”

“I can’t stay, I’m afraid. You may give her my greetings, if you would be so kind. I must borrow Alwy for a while. I heard he was here?”

“Oh, he’s back in the bedroom. Should I call him?”

But Alwy had already heard. He came forth beaming and squeezed past Gunnilda to clap Egelric on the shoulder. Gunnilda shrank back into the corner as the two began palavering about fields and barns and teams of oxen.

There was no interest for her in the conversation, but when the back of Alwy’s head wasn’t in the way, it gave her a chance to look at Egelric. She recalled what Alwy had said once about there being no smile in Egelric’s eyes even when he smiled with his mouth. It was still true, or more so, perhaps, but what struck her was that there was something else there. Something like anger. Only it wasn’t something hot like anger… no, no, not hot at all. It was something cold like cruelty.

Gunnilda stood against the wall and watched them until they went out to the barn. Egelric didn’t even say goodbye.