Authors: EMME CROSS
“I haven’t seen you so excited in a while.”
“They’re exciting.”
Astrid grimaced and took another swig of wine.
* * *
“So how was the interview?” Sven and Liam pulled up stools while Sunny ladled out bowls of chilli and took the cast-iron skillet with fresh cornbread out of the oven.
“Good,” said Sven with a full mouth, holding the baby in one arm.
“Don’t give Bliss chilli, she’ll get the runs. I made it kind of spicy. And don’t give it to the dog either. Her emissions can be deadly.”
Sven smiled down at the hopeful canine face. “Sorry, Sponge, you heard the boss. How about some cornbread?” He mopped up a bit of chilli and slipped it into the dog’s waiting mouth, ignoring his wife’s glare.
“So what did you do while we were gone? Lift pianos? Climb the scaffolding to help the painters?”
“I’ve been good. The front of the house is really coming along. They’ll fix the porch next, so everyone will have to use the back door for a bit. The landscaper came and we went over some ideas. Most of the trees and bushes just need a good pruning but the lilacs are already in bloom. Smell them.” She pushed the vase towards Liam. “Heavenly! I remember lilacs from when I lived in Edmonton with my dad. Oh, and we are going to plant a bed at the back with sunflowers.”
She hummed along happily to Dépêche Mode and ‘Just Can’t Get Enough.’
“You look a little tired. Did you have a nap?”
“Not yet. I need to enrol in Baby and Me swimming classes at the university.”
“Liam can take care of that. Leave the pots to soak. Come on. I’ll tuck you in. And Bliss too.”
Liam finished his lunch, surreptitiously slipping the plate onto the floor so the dog could lick the remnants of his chilli. As he loaded the dishwasher, he could hear laughter floating down the kitchen stairs. Soft voices followed by the slow, rhythmic creak of a bed frame. He grinned. Judith hadn’t been exaggerating. He turned up the music and looked for the number for the university, jotting down the times and cost of the various swimming courses.
* * *
“Here.”
Liam ducked as Sven tossed over some running gear. “Those shoes will have to do for today, but you might want to leave a pair here. I need a running buddy.”
“Why? You look like you’re in good shape.”
“Thanks for not adding ‘for someone your age.’ I’m not filming right now so there isn’t the same pressure to work out. Plus, Sunny is pregnant which means she’s cooking enough to feed the entire city. And she’s a good cook. She gets upset if I don’t at least taste everything. If I don’t watch it, I’ll end up as big as a house. That means we run.” Sven finished his stretches. “Don’t take it easy; we’ll use today as a baseline.
“How far do you want to go?” asked Liam, mentally devising various routes.
“5K oughta do it.”
“Yeah. A half hour.”
Sven scowled. “I have twenty years and twenty pounds on you but I can still whip your ass.”
Liam grinned. “Let’s see, old man,” and sprinted off down the front walk, Sven in his wake.
* * *
“So you just stood there in the kitchen when they made love upstairs?” Astrid had rearranged her schedule, cancelling a viewing to be home to hear about Liam’s first official day on the job.
“What was I supposed to do? Watch? But the best part was when we went to do the interview. They taped it, so it airs tomorrow. Live to tape they call it. You wouldn’t believe the commotion everybody kicked up when Sven got to the studio, fussing over us — well, over him. He introduced me as his assistant. How cool is that?”
Eight-year-old Johann, picking the peppers off his pizza, asked, “Are you going to be on TV too?”
“No, little brother. But I sat in the chair so they could set up the lighting while Sven was in make-up and I got to watch and I met a lot of people. Boy, the women were all over him.”
Astrid took a speculative sip of wine. “How did he take it? All the women?”
Liam chewed, speculating. “He just laughed it off. Said he was used to it. Said it got worse after he got married and even worse once he had a child. For some reason women are attracted to married men even more than bachelors.” Liam laughed. “Sven said if I wanted to get lucky, I should take Bliss for a walk. Or the dog. He says babies and dogs are good icebreakers.”
He caught his mother’s look. “I won’t. I mean, I don’t want to get lucky. I mean . . . Anyway, he had to show his wedding ring to this one woman who kept rubbing his back.”
“He turned them away? All of them?”
“Sure,” Liam shrugged. “He’s married.”
“That doesn’t seem to stop a lot of men.”
“I asked him about that during our run. He said I could ask him anything,” Liam added defensively when he saw his mother’s raised eyebrow. “He said before Sunny he would have gone with one or more of them, but now, he doesn’t even notice other women. We’re having pizza tomorrow.”
“Sorry. I could have ordered in Chinese tonight.”
“No, we’re making pizza. From scratch! Thursdays are Italian days and we’re going to make pizza and talk Italian. Fridays are Russian days and we’re going to make, I forget what Sunny called those little dough dumplings, and something with beets and roast beef I think she said. And she’s going to teach me and Bliss Russian.”
“The baby? She’s not even three. She can’t speak one language properly yet.”
“Sunny says this is the best time to learn, when their brains aren’t fully formed and there’s no pressure or grades. Bliss already knows lots of words in other languages. Sunny sings her lullabies and reads her bedtime stories in German and Chinese and French. Hey!” he asked his brother, “did you know ‘la poupée’ means doll in French?”
Johan laughed so long and loud he blew milk bubbles through his nose.
“Wednesdays will be Norwegian days and I’m supposed to teach her the language and she will practice making local recipes with Judith. With the different foods, it just makes it fun. I’m sorry I can’t go Mondays because that’s the day Fatima, the part-time nanny, helps Sunny cook Arabic food and they speak Arabic, I guess. Sunny says . . .”
He trailed off when he spotted the look of exasperation on his mother’s face.
“‘Sunny says, Sunny says.’ That’s enough about what Sunny says. I’m going to have a bath.”
Liam and Johan exchanged looks. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you homemade pizza tomorrow night.”
“You didn’t have to sit with her the whole time while I did my laps. You could have taken Bliss to the daycare center.”
“I didn’t mind. She likes watching you swim. So do I.” Liam blushed. “I mean, you’re a good swimmer. Really strong.”
“The only time I feel graceful these days is in the water.” Sunny wrapped a towel around her bulging waist. “Don’t you swim?”
“Not really. When I was younger there wasn’t a lot of money for extras, like lessons.”
“What is it with you Norwegians? Surrounded by water and fjords and you don’t swim. Sven doesn’t. Yet.”
She smiled as she slipped on her flip-flops, grinning up at the toddler who stood on Liam’s knees. “Daddy is going to learn to swim when we get back to California. You can’t have children and a pool without all the adults knowing how to swim. I’m even going to set up life-saving courses for everyone, including the staff.”
“It must be nice living in California, where it’s summer all the time.”
“I like Norway. You miss the seasons there. My favourite was fall in Canada. When the leaves turned, the colours were awesome.” Her smile faltered. “Sorry. For a minute there I was thinking of my dad. I wish he’d had a chance to meet his granddaughter.”
“I keep forgetting you don’t have family of your own. You just seem such a part of the Larsens.”
“I’ve fastened onto them like a leech. What about you? Do you get to spend much time with your dad?”
“I used to when I was younger.”
After she had changed they headed home. After Bliss had been properly secured in her car seat, Sunny tossed Liam the keys. “You drive. I have trouble wedging myself behind the steering wheel.”
“My dad used to take me skiing,” Liam continued as they drove away. “He had friends with this chalet. And he took me to Stockholm once. Business, but we got to hang out and do stuff together. Now he’s not around so much.”
Sunny couldn’t miss the emptiness in his voice.
“He hasn’t been around for a couple of years. Mom says he’s away all the time with investments and banking. But I think they could have had a big fight. He used to call me when he was out of town, but he doesn’t any more. He didn’t even call me at Christmas. It’s not the presents—” Two bright spots of red burned in his cheeks.
“No,” said Sunny, reaching out and touching his arm. “It’s the thought. It’s not being together over the holidays.”
“We’re never going to be a real family. Not like you and Sven and Bliss and the baby. I know that. My brother has a different dad and we don’t all live together, so we won’t be a real family.”
“You don’t have to live together to be a real family. Anyone can make a family. I had a family with my father and Raisa and Misha when we were in Russia. When we moved on, family was my dad and me. And then I made a new family once I lost my dad, with Sven and Judith, the children and all our friends. They’re my family. So are you.”
Liam looked over at her, startled. Sunny continued. “Families come in all kinds of flavours. It’s just a name you give people you care about. It doesn’t really have anything to do with blood ties. There are a lot of people who are related who don’t even like one another. They may be blood kin but they aren’t really a family, not in the way that matters.”
* * *
Astrid glanced up from her phone. A house sale had gone through and that meant a healthy commission. She was having a good year, she thought with some satisfaction. Maybe she could afford a new car. Her Audi was meticulously cared for, but it was starting to show its age. Maybe a vacation; she and the boys together. They hadn’t done that in years. Not with the conflicting schedules with their fathers, school and money.
So many of her choices came down to money. Juggle this to pay that. Put off this for now to cover that bill. She had an account set aside for Liam’s education but he didn’t seem that interested at the moment. Maybe that would change once his infatuation with Sven and acting and Hollywood had faded.
His team was taking the field. He was a striker and a very good player. If he had wanted to play soccer professionally he would have had a chance but he lacked the drive needed to make it to the next level. Not that Astrid minded. She didn’t want him to be a professional athlete. Too many things could go wrong. He could get hurt. She still shuddered when she thought about how he’d taken a cleat in the face in the city championships two years ago. At first the doctors were worried he might have had a concussion. He didn’t, thank God. But that errant kick had left Liam with a scar on his cheek and it left her perpetually worried. Astrid remembered that was the last game Nils had attended. He hadn’t been back to see his son play soccer since. She knew it hurt. At first, she’d made excuses to Liam but he didn’t believe them; she could tell by the look in his eyes. After a while, he’d stopped asking. He’d also stopped asking if his father had called on his birthday or if he was going to be in town over Christmas. She knew Liam blamed her, thinking they’d had a fight, that she had somehow driven Nils away. Astrid used to pray her son would never find out otherwise, but she knew it was just a matter of time.
There was a commotion at the other end of the bleachers. People were craning their heads and some were pointing. One adolescent girl looked like she was going to faint. Two teenagers whipped out brushes and lip gloss. What on earth? You’d think David Beckham had suddenly appeared at a city league soccer game.
The crowd parted and she saw the reason for the excitement. It was Sven. And Sunny, Astrid reminded herself. Laden down with Bliss and trying to control a strange looking dog straining at the end of the leash.
“What are you doing here?”
“Astrid!” Sven said. “Liam wasn’t certain you’d be able to make it. We knew his brother was with his dad this weekend so we thought we’d come and act as his cheering section.”
She moved over to make room for the newcomers, trying not to blush when she noticed the other parents and fans nudging themselves and whispering. Sven Larsen! At a city soccer game! The object of all the attention seemed oblivious. Calmly opening a beer from a cooler and handing Bliss a sippy cup he scanned the field. “There he is. There’s Liam!” The little girl followed her father’s pointed finger and started chanting “Liam, Liam,” and clapping her hands.
Sunny made the dog sit and stay and took a swig out of a bottle of water. “She’s Liam’s personal cheerleader. My daughter has such a crush on your son. I swear she plans on marrying him when she gets older.”
“She has to wait until she’s at least six,” Sven teased. He paused when he noticed Astrid’s stricken expression. Leaning towards her he whispered, “I’m sorry. We didn’t think. We didn’t mean to horn in on family time.”
“I’m just surprised. He didn’t say anything about asking you. And I wasn’t sure if I could get away from the office.” Astrid plastered a smile onto her face. “It’s nice of you to come. All of you. He talks about you all the time.”
Sunny chimed in, unaware of the tension. “He’s such a nice boy — or young man, I should say. You’ve done such a good job raising him. He said his dad’s been away on business a lot, especially lately. It can’t be easy working full time and raising two growing sons.”
Astrid looked for a sneer but she couldn’t find one in Sunny’s tone, which expressed simple admiration. She accepted a beer from Sven and took a swig. Anything to keep her hands busy and keep her from having to make awkward conversation.
There was a cry from the spectators. “Did you see that bicycle kick?” asked a man sitting two rows in front. “That Liam’s a killer. It’s his second goal of the game.”
Bliss heard the name of her new favourite man and started clapping again, chanting “Liam, Liam.” Nearby spectators picked up the call and soon there were two dozen people chanting his name. He must have heard it echo across the field because he looked up. When he saw them he waved, looking more like an eager little boy than an almost grown man. Then he tugged up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and turned his focus back to the play until the end of the game.
“You came!”
Liam waded through teammates and well-wishers to scoop up Bliss for a kiss and offer her parents a sweaty smile.
“I had no idea you were so good,” said Sven. The young man beamed and soon they were surrounded by his friends and he was busy making introductions. Astrid was slightly uneasy about the envious looks and her son’s pride at being so near the celebrities. She was also slightly put out at being shunted into the background by the newcomers.
Before she had a chance to feel completely excluded, Sunny was at her elbow. “I thought maybe one evening I’d invite Liam and his team to the house for a barbecue after the game, if that would be okay? I’d love to have you and Johann join us.”
“That would be a lot of work.” Astrid looked down at Sunny’s stomach. “You may not have the energy.”
“When it comes to cooking, I have nothing but energy. Plus I’d like to thank him for all he’s doing for us. He chauffeurs me around, he’s teaching us Norwegian. He’s helping Sven with research for his screenplay. It’s like he’s part of the family.”
* * *
“I thought I heard you come in.” Sunny leaned sleepily against the doorframe of the nursery, watching as Sven finished diapering Bliss and putting the drowsy toddler back to bed.
“What was your first clue somebody had wandered into the house? The watchdog growling and barking at the front door?” Sven nudged the snoring bull terrier with his toe, but she merely twitched in her sleep.
“This is new.” He picked up a framed photo from a bookshelf. It showed Bliss and Sir Henry Clover, her godfather.
“I dug that out because I’ve been thinking about Henry all day. I even talked to Charlie and Colin on Skype. I’ve invited them to California in the fall. Charlie wants to learn to surf. You’ll have to take him to the beach; I won’t be bikini-ready for a while.”
“Why was Henry on your mind?”
“It’s been six months . . .”
“That explains why I felt restless. I couldn’t even concentrate long enough to beat Ed at pool.” He stared at the photo. “Six months.”
“Six months,” Sunny responded with a grin, patting her baby bump.
“You don’t think that’s the night . . ? I was sure the baby was conceived later — that night we made up after the funeral. Or maybe by the pool in St. Barts?”
“I’m pretty sure it was in London. I think it was the night Henry died.”
“But that’s . . . Oh God!” The thought that their child had been conceived the night he took his wife in a drunken, near violent haze clutched at Sven’s stomach.
Sunny put his hand beneath hers on the baby bump, her voice warm and reassuring. “It’s a good thing that something so wonderful can come out of something so bad. You know how Henry loved melodrama. Maybe his essence somehow entered me the same time as the baby’s.”
“He’d have liked that.” The image made Sven laugh. “The spectral threesome.”
Seeing his mood lift, Sunny added, “he would have been primed. You showed him that video of us making love when I was pregnant with Bliss.”
“He told you! The bastard could never keep a secret.”
“Just over a year ago, during one of our visits to London. You were out with the baby and we were having one of our chats in his hospital bed.”
“You were always climbing into bed with him.”
“Remind me to buy scarlet letters for my T-shirts,” Sunny grinned. “Henry said the video made him both jealous and happy. I think by ‘jealous’ he meant that he wasn’t having sex with
you
, not me.”
Sven laughed remembering his friend’s half-hearted attempts at seducing him. He hadn’t taken offence and neither had Henry when he’d firmly declined. In the end they had settled for being best friends.
“Henry said the video made him happy because he knew you were loved and he wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
Sven teared up. Sunny reached over and turned out the lamp by the baby’s crib. “Rather than cry, maybe we should mark this night by doing something that would make Henry happy.”
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Neither Henry nor I,” she said, leading him down the hall to the master bedroom, “have any complaints.”
* * *
“She’s almost ready,” Fatima proclaimed, taking up her spot at the bottom of the stairs.
“What’s the hold up? I can’t afford to piss off the Arts Council by being late.”
“There was some kind of argument about Sunny wearing gloves.”
Sven laughed. “I should have warned the crew she can be a bitch when she’s forced to get dressed up.” He leant over the railing, shouting up the stairs. “Get your butt down here! And wear the damn gloves.” He grinned at the sound of a foot stomping on the floor above.
“Liam, take the car and drive Fatima home. You can pick up Bliss at her grandma’s on your way into work in the morning. I am looking forward to a date with my wife.” Sven’s eyes darkened with lust at the thought of all those uninterrupted hours.
A swirl of movement above and two minions scuttled down the staircase carrying cases of hair paraphernalia, make-up and garment bags.
“Thanks, Jack. I appreciate you coming to the house.”
“It was my pleasure,” answered the man. He was dark and elfin. “She put up a bit of a fuss, but I think you’ll agree it was worth the effort.”