Christmas In Norway Tour

This is my Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023 story.

You are the Tin Man. This tour the Oil Can. Figure it out.

A recently widowed Norwegian American plans his escape from a Minnesota nursing home to travel abroad and join a 'Christmas in Norway Tour'. While battling his fears, he meets a beautiful young tour guide and her divorced mother, who years later, still bears scars from her 'loving' husband's affair. This story is about overcoming those fears to let healing begin.

Author's Note: This story is fiction. All characters are over 18. Many Loving Wives stories end with a cleverly conceived divorce. This story picks up after that, and shows the lingering effects of a husband's extra-marital affair on his family. While not a traditional Loving Wives story, by the end, you will see that it is, quite literally, a 'Burn The Bastard' story. This is also a Christmas story, so expect to travel to locations in Norway, encounter Norwegian Christmas traditions, and maybe even get sprinkled with pixie-dust!

"A man has only one escape from his old self: to see a different self - in the mirror of some woman's eyes" - Clare Booth Luce

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Prequel

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Oslo, Norway - Three Years Ago

Mamma and I spent Christmas week in Bergen, visiting her family and celebrating my 22nd birthday. We decided to leave Bergen two days early so that Pappa would not have to celebrate New Year's Eve alone. During the week, while we were away, Pappa told us how he missed us.

We arrived back home in mid-afternoon, just as the sun was setting, and saw our Christmas Star lit up in the window. After entering the house, we heard Pappa moaning upstairs and went up to see if he was all right. Opening the bedroom door, we saw him humping a strange woman!

"What are you doing?" shouted Mamma.

Pappa replied, "Leah, you're home early."

"Who is this woman?"

"She's just a slut. She means nothing to me."

The woman yelped, "I am not a slut! I am a happily married woman."

Mamma yelled, "I can see what keeps you happy."

Pappa yelled back, "I still love you, Leah. Let me get rid of this slut. She's only here because I was lonely. We can talk."

Mamma replied, "You can talk to my advokater. We're through! How can I ever trust you again, you bastard? Do you realize what you have done to our family!"

Mamma began sobbing and ran down the stairs.

Pappa looked at me and said, "Jorunn, none of this would have happened if your mother hadn't come home early and seen us."

I looked at Pappa and saw his slime-covered beard slick with the woman's juices. "You're wrong Pappa. It did happen. Mamma and I just wouldn't have known. You said you didn't want to be seen by us. That works both ways! I don't ever want to talk to you or see you ever again!"

I ran downstairs to Mamma, and with our suitcases still in the boot, we drove to a friend's house.

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Chapter 1 - Nurse Ratched

December 13 - Morning

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Minneapolis, Minnesota - Present Day

I pressed the button on my cell phone and hung up after talking with Roger Mans, my long-time friend and attorney. My two adult children texted a few days ago they wanted to visit me here in the nursing home. I had not seen them since the funeral of my wife, Solveig, and that was two months ago. Their plan was for me to sign their power of attorney forms, giving them full control over me and my affairs. But my plan was different, and now was time to put it into place.

I realized two years ago, after my stroke, Solveig was unable to care for me at our home. She tried with all her heart, but she was fighting her own battle with cancer and undergoing rigorous treatments, so I agreed to enter a nursing home. I wanted one with a stroke recovery unit, limiting the nursing home choices. The only thing making life bearable here was Solveig faithfully visiting me, and sneaking an occasional home-cooked meal past the head nurse and her staff. At Solveig's funeral, my children promised to visit often, but as usual, I could never count on them for anything.

Without my wife here to check on things, my decent clothes never came back from the laundry, and instead, they returned excuses. I put on old sweatpants and an old sweatshirt. It would do for now. I prepared myself for this day by walking the halls of the nursing home, attending physical therapy sessions, and taking care of myself without help from the staff. Still not fully recovered, but like my clothing, it would do for now.

I said goodbye to Alfred, my shared roommate. He nodded, wished me luck, and said he would love to go with me. I felt sorry for him. He was a great storyteller but needed to use his walker, and physically, he required the kind of care they provided here.

I walked down the hall to the nurse's station and found Molly Turner, the rather brusque chief nurse, and her two assistants sitting behind it. "Good morning, Nurse Ratched," I said.

"Good day to you, Gunnar," she replied.

"I'm checking out," I said.

"Be serious, Gunnar. No one ever checks out of a nursing home, unless they are flat on their back with a toe tag."

I looked at her and smiled, "I only hope that will be your Fate, Molly."

"That's not a nice thing to say, Gunnar. Now, return to your room or I will have dietary take away your rice pudding for a week."

The rice pudding here was a pale imitation of the riskrem Solvieg would make every Christmas. I would miss it this year. I gave Nurse Ratched a one-fingered salute, then walked toward the exit. There was a scramble of squeaky chairs and shouts behind me, and I heard their footsteps closing in on me. As I pushed the two doors open to the main lobby, there was Roger, standing next to the nursing home administrator. I walked up to my lawyer, and shook his hand, "Thank you, old friend."

I turned to see a stunned Nurse Ratched. "Allow me to escort Mr. Larsen back to his room," she meekly pronounced.

The nursing home administrator said, "That won't be necessary, Molly. Mr. Larsen is leaving us. He isn't taking anything with him. You may clear out his room and get it ready for the next resident."

I looked Nurse Ratched in the eye and saw the fires of hell blazing within. Then, it was my turn to smile back.

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Chapter 2 - Gunnar's House

December 13 - Morning

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Roger drove me to my house. No one bothered shoveling the snow on the walkway, and I feared what my children may have done to the inside. I found the hidden key I placed under a rock years ago and used it to enter through the front door. The living room and dining room furniture was mostly gone, or should I say, stolen. They had rifled through the small office nook next to the kitchen, with papers scattered over the kitchen countertops and floor.

I turned and said, "You're going to have your work cut out for you, Roger."

"This is exactly what you said would happen, Gunnar. Our firm will take care of it for you."

I opened a small drawer in the office nook and thankfully found my passport intact. It was useless to my children. I went to the master bedroom and saw the dresser drawers partially opened, with clothes scattered all about the floor. On top of the dresser was Solvieg's jewelry box. I opened it, and few things remained. I was glad to see the gold charm bracelet I gave her 35 years ago for Christmas. She wore it a couple of times, then stopped, complaining it turned her wrist green as the fake gold coating wore away. But she kept it all these years. A worn-out trinket to my children, as precious as the Sauron's Ring of Power to me. I picked it up and put it in the pocket of my sweatpants.

I went into the walk-in closet and picked out some clothes, tossed them into an old gym bag, and said, "I'm done. We can go."

Roger said, "The locksmith and security company will meet me here this afternoon. Once they are done, your children will no longer have access."

"I'd rather not have an auction of whatever is left in the house. I don't think Solveig would have liked that. Once you go through the papers, just throw everything left in a dumpster and haul it away. Whatever the two pirates plundered will be the only inheritance they will ever see from me."

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Chapter 3 - Miller & Mans Law Office

December 13 - Mid-Day

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Roger and I next went to his office. I said hello to Jane, the long-time receptionist. I have always suspected that Jane knows everything that goes on here, and secretly runs the whole place, not unlike the way Nurse Ratched does in her domain. However, Jane does so with more efficiency, happiness, and joy for both clients and staff.

Jane asked, "Can I get you anything, Gunnar?"

"I'd love a cup of decent coffee, and an Apple Fritter if you have one."

"I'll bring them to Roger's office. Two creams and no sugar, if I remember right."

"Perfect, as always, Jane."

We went into Roger's plush office, and I sat down in a chair more comfortable than any I sat in for the last two years.

"Are you actually going to go through with this?" Roger asked.

"Every bit of it," I replied.

I signed multiple papers, removing my two children as beneficiaries from my life insurance and investment accounts. I also gave Roger limited power of attorney to sell my house and dispose of its possessions.

Jane arrived with the coffee and Apple Fritter. "Norway? Why would anyone want to go to Norway in December?"

"Did Roger spill the beans?" I asked.

Jane replied, "Every piece of paper that comes into this office passes through my hands. I opened your travel visa when it came in."

"Jane, I can't spend Christmas here in Minnesota. The bitter wintry weather pales in comparison to the cold hearts of my own two children. The further away from them I am, the better. I've never been to Norway and have always wanted to see the 'home country' of my ancestors."

Like I said, Jane knows all. The coffee tasted great, and the deep-fried Apple Fritter, one of Nursed Ratched's 'prohibited foods', was outstanding. Roger slid me a packet labeled 'Gunnar - Norway'. As Jane left, I opened it and looked at the contents. As planned, there was an international cell phone with a different number, a stack of krone, and three new credit cards bearing the name of a fictitious business. I handed Roger my old cell phone.

"We'll dispose of this for you. Your children will have no idea where you are unless they hire a private detective with exceptionally good connections. Legally, they have no rights to any of your assets, so even if somehow they track you to our law office, they will not get past Jane."

I believed Roger on that.

"The tour company you asked us to sign you up with seems pretty sketchy. Their contract looks like something generated off a free online legal site. We reviewed it, it is crude, but legal and binding. If you back out, they still get paid. Why did you pick this tour company? There are many larger and more reputable companies we might have booked you with."

"It's silly, Roger. I know it's only a one-person company, run by a young vlogger in Norway. It was terribly boring in the nursing home, so I would spend evenings watching her videos as she traveled around Norway visiting various places, and leading small groups of tourists. It looked like the people were having fun and she made me laugh. Watching her videos was one of the few things that brought me any happiness."

"Why did you reserve for four persons?" asked Roger.

"I wanted to make sure her Christmas in Norway tour wouldn't be canceled. She has a four-person minimum."

"You won't get those other bookings back, even if more people are going."

"I don't need the money, Roger, but I do need this tour."

"How about clothing? You don't have many clothes in that gym bag, Gunnar. Do you want to stop somewhere before we get to the airport?"

"No. I'll travel light. It'll be easier when going through airport security. I'll buy more clothes when I get to Norway."

"How about after you come back?"

"I'm going to someplace warm and sunny. Maybe visit a mouse in Florida. I'll be in touch if I need anything while I'm in Norway, and call you when I get back in three weeks."

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Chapter 4 - The Tour Guide

December 15 - Morning

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Two Days Later

I spent yesterday shopping for the new clothes I would need. The tour is a mix of city and outdoor activities, so I bought a basic wardrobe, along with good walking shoes, snow pants, a warm jacket, and gloves. I ate lunch and dinner at two smaller restaurants. The food was good, but I felt lonely eating by myself, in a city I didn't know, in a strange country. I missed Solveig very much and wished she were here with me.

The next morning, I walked to the nearby hotel where the tour group would be meeting and followed the "Christmas in Norway Tour" sign to a small room off the lobby. There she was! Jorunn. My vlogger! She was about as tall as I am, at least when I can stand straight, with long blonde hair parted in the middle, clear blue eyes, and her signature radiant smile. She wore a Norwegian Dale sweater and brown pants.

Jorunn spoke to me in Norwegian. "Excuse me, sir, this room is reserved for a tour group."

I hobbled closer. "Yes, and I'm one of the people taking the tour."

"We have a pretty active schedule for the next seven days, from December 15th through the 22nd. Do you think you are well enough to take this tour?"

I wasn't sure if I was, but I didn't want to tell her that. "I won't slow you down," I replied.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Gunnar Larsen."

She opened a small notebook and flipped through the pages. "It says here you are in a group of four. I see three other names. When are they coming?"

"There won't be any others from my group. One of the names is my recently deceased wife, the other two are my estranged adult children. I'm all there is."

Jorunn looked puzzled. "Only four people in total signed up, including you, all from your group. If the others aren't coming, then you will be the only one. I don't... I can't... I mean, I have reservations I cannot cancel. You're going to cost me a fortune whether I go through with the tour or not."

I replied, "The contract states that you have a four-person minimum. I am paying you in full for all four people. You won't lose any money."

Jorunn smirked and looked like she was thinking. "I don't know if you're some kind of dirty old man, but if I agree to continue this tour, you should know that we will have separate rooms every night and there will be no sex of any kind. Judging by the way you look; I hope you can at least wipe your own butt!"

"Your terms are acceptable. I had a stroke two years ago, but I have mostly recovered. I can walk, talk, and listen. I have trouble with my balance at times and sometimes slur my words. If you think something is too strenuous for me, I am willing to skip that part of the tour."

"Well, Mr. Larsen of Minnesota, you need to sign some release forms. As stated in the contract, I get to film the tour group for my vlogs, so I expect smiles when I am filming you. For now, go help yourself to breakfast. There is coffee, brunost, bread, and milk. Enough to feed four. Don't expect me to serve you, and if you don't know how to use a cheese sliver, learn fast."

She looked puzzled earlier but was now the confident Jorunn with whom I spent virtual evenings. I was delighted we worked this out. Smiles would not be a problem.

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Chapter 5 - Oslo

December 15 - Morning

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Jorunn left the room and returned shortly with a small basket of food. "We have a lot of brunost left over, so I am going to make us a food packet for lunch called matpakke. I have a place in mind where we can sit and picnic."

"We will use the Vy app and Oslo Pass and travel by train and Metro. But today, we will mainly walk around Oslo. You will need to check into this hotel under the tour name if you have not done so. We will be in Oslo for two nights. The prepaid room is part of your tour package. I will try to cancel or change some reservations. Meet me back here in one hour."

I went back to my hotel to retrieve my belongings, then checked into the one Jorunn requested. It was not as nice as the one I left, but it was clean, and I did not want to make a fuss on the first day. I purchased a surprising amount of clothing yesterday and needed to make two trips to bring everything over. Then I returned to the meeting room and found Jorunn waiting.

Jorunn and I walked from the hotel to Oslo Central Station and took a tram to the Vigeland Sculpture Park. Jorunn told me it is the world's largest sculpture park made by a single artist, Gustav Vigeland, with over two hundred sculptures combining the human form with an element of fantasy. Most figures were naked, with a mix of vagueness and rather notably open precision. The most prominent sculpture was a 17-meter-high monolith consisting of 121 intertwined human figures clambering to the top, carved from a single stone block. We spent over an hour walking the grounds, and while it was interesting, I told Jorunn that I didn't see much in the way of Christmas here.

A combination of walking and a short bus ride brought us to the grounds of the Akershus Fortress. Constructed in the 13th century, it protects the waterfront and Oslo harbor. Also on the site was the restored Akershus Castle, which was formerly a residence of prior kings of Norway. Jorunn said it serves today as an entertainment and event center for the Norwegian government, and this close to Christmas was not open to the public.

I found it challenging to walk the grounds of the Fortress, as there were steep inclines mixed with stone steps and cobblestone paths. Remnants of a prior snowstorm still lingered in shady areas and under arches, making the footing treacherous. We did stop at places offering magnificent views of the city of Oslo, the bay, and the fjord, and several ramparts still bore cannons. Jorunn was rather businesslike and did not seem to be enjoying herself. As we finished walking around the Fortress, it was almost lunchtime, so we sat down to eat our matpakke.

After lunch, I learned there are different museums at Akershus, though not all of them were open. We entered the Norwegian Resistance Museum, which covers the occupation of Norway by the Germans in World War 2. There were displays, dioramas, and originals of the papers required by the Germans. I always liked history and old war movies, so I found this museum enjoyable. One of the lingering issues from my stroke was not being able to remember things quite as well. My mind struggled and failed to produce the name of that Clint Eastwood movie with all the snow.

Jorunn and I walked into the city centre and stopped at a Cakery for Norwegian coffee and a slice of layer cake. Jorunn said we stopped here because we would be eating a late dinner tonight. She told me one of the owners is from Brazil, and that Oslo has many fine international restaurants. I ordered a slice of Walnut Apricot Cake, and it was particularly good. Jorunn ordered Choco Pastiche, and while eating it, looked happier than at any other time during the day.

We headed out again, and I was surprised by the early arrival of twilight. The streetlights were on, Christmas decorations lit, and prominent buildings illuminated. We passed briefly by some buildings, including the Nobel Peace Center, which tells the story of Alfred Nobel, the inventor of dynamite, as well as that of Peace Prize recipients.

Jorunn mentioned, "This building and Gustav Vigeland are connected. Vigeland designed the Nobel Peace Prize medal."

I complained, "I still don't find these museums and buildings to be very Christmassy."