A Promise Across Time [Completed]

A Milestone to Remember

15 November 1963
Sweden

*RAVEN

I've been planning this event for weeks now. Every detail, every decoration, every moment leading up to it feels like a puzzle that is finally falling into place. Today is Frida's eighteenth birthday, a milestone for any young woman, but for her, it feels even more significant. I suppose it's because I know what the future holds, but here in 1963, no one else can see that. Today, she's just Anni-Frid Lyngstad, a girl about to enter adulthood.

The living room is transformed with bright streamers and delicate fairy lights draped across the ceiling. Grandma Arntine had been a godsend, not only with her advice but with her hands as well. She busily fluttered around like a petite bird, fixing every little imperfection I didn't even notice. The neighbors, too, had come over to help. Mrs. Eriksson, with her tall frame and warm smile, brought a tray of biscuits while Mr. Jönsson lent his hand in stringing up the decorations.

I glanced at the clock. The evening was drawing near, and soon Frida would return from her gig. She and her band had started getting small bookings around town, performing at local dances and small gatherings. They were not yet the icons that would be, but I could already see the spark in her. The way she held herself on stage, the confidence that radiated from her—even now, at eighteen—hinted at the greatness to come. And tonight, it would be a celebration not only of her coming of age but of the journey that lay ahead.

We wanted it to be a surprise. Frida didn't suspect a thing. She thought she would come home for a quiet dinner with just Grandma Arntine and me. But I knew how much this day would mean to her. She would never ask for it, but deep down, she wanted something special. I felt it in the way she had casually mentioned her birthday in passing, as if testing the waters to see if anyone remembered. Of course, we remembered.

The sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over the small house as we placed the last few touches. The table was set with care, candles flickering in their holders, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The scent of freshly baked cake wafted from the kitchen, and I couldn't help but smile, imagining Frida's expression when she would walk through that door.

As I worked alongside Grandma Arntine, I wondered what Frida's eighteenth birthday meant to her. Did she feel the weight of adulthood? Did she sense the changes that were coming? I couldn't help but think about how different our worlds were. She, on the brink of a future filled with fame and stardom. Me, standing beside her in the past, knowing what was to come but bound by time and secrecy.

With the last decoration in place, Grandma Arntine patted my hand. "It looks lovely, Raven. She's going to be so surprised."

I nodded, my heart swelling with anticipation. "I hope so. She deserves this."

The sky was darkening now, the stars beginning to twinkle above the small Swedish town. Frida would be home soon. The neighbors began to gather in the living room, waiting for the grand moment. There was a quiet hum of excitement in the air, a collective anticipation for her arrival.

As the clock struck seven, there was a soft creak as the front door opened. I held my breath, glancing at Grandma Arntine, who gave me a knowing smile. The room fell silent, and then I heard her familiar voice.

"Hello? Grandma? Raven?"

I stepped forward, unable to hide the grin on my face. "Surprise!" I called out, and the room exploded with cheers and applause. The look on Frida's face was one I would never forget. Her mouth dropped open in shock, her wide eyes sparkling with joy as she took in the scene before her.

"You... you did all this for me?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "Of course, Frida. Every girl should celebrate their eighteenth birthday. You're officially an adult now."

She stood frozen for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of friends and neighbors gathered in her honor, the decorations, the food, the love that filled the room. And then, as if the realization finally hit her, she let out a laugh—a joyful, heartwarming sound that lit up the entire room.

"This is incredible!" she exclaimed, rushing to hug Grandma Arntine first, then me. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," I whispered, squeezing her tight before stepping back to let her bask in the attention of her guests.

The party was everything I had hoped it would be. Laughter echoed through the house as Frida's friends teased her about finally being a "grown-up." They exchanged stories about their gigs, their dreams, and their hopes for the future. And though Frida was at the center of it all, there was a quiet strength to her tonight. She seemed more at ease, more sure of herself than I had ever seen her before.

As the night wore on, Frida's bandmates brought out their instruments, and soon the house was filled with music. Frida's voice, pure and unyielding, soared above the strumming of guitars, the rhythm of the drums. The sound of her singing was mesmerizing, capturing everyone's attention. I stood back, watching her, realizing that this was only the beginning. She was on the cusp of something extraordinary, and it felt surreal to witness it so intimately.

At the end of the evening, when the guests had left and the house had fallen quiet, Frida and I sat together by the dimming fire. She was still smiling, her eyes glistening with happiness.

"I'll never forget this night," she said softly, and pulled me into her arms. I felt her kiss me on the forehead and held me tighter.

I smiled, relishing in the warmth of her embrace, "Neither will I. Happy birthday, Anni-Frid."

And though I couldn't tell her why, I knew that this night would be etched into my memory forever. It was a moment of peace, of simplicity, before the world would change for both of us in ways we couldn't yet comprehend. A milestone. A promise of the future, not only for her but for me as well.

***