Authors: EMME CROSS
Sunny snuggled into the crook of her husband’s arm as they slowly made their way upstairs.
“Liam, I’ve put your backpack in the guest bedroom opposite the nursery. Can you just make sure the dog’s still breathing and that I blew out all the candles before you turn in?”
“Sunny?” Liam looked up at them as they ascended the stairs. “Thanks for everything. I had a terrific time.” She darted down to kiss his blushing cheek and thank him for his help.
* * *
“A nice evening.”
“Want to tell me what was up tonight?”
“What do you mean?”
He traced a finger down her arm and kissed her temple. “Not that I’m complaining but you were so demonstrative I thought you were plotting an orgy.”
“Not in my condition. Renee’s worried because . . .” She went on to explain.
“Yeah, I heard about their friends’ break up. And Jon’s been getting lucky a lot lately, not that he’s complaining. Care to show me how much I stand to lose if I take a walk on the wild side?”
Sunny placed one of his hands on her naked belly, the other on her breasts. “Care to show me what it’s like to be one of the top ten MILFs in Hollywood?”
“My pleasure.”
“Let me see your hands.” The cuticles were clipped. The nails were trimmed to the quick but were no longer jagged. “Much more presentable.”
They were driving home after spending the day with Jon and his family. While Liam gave Brian the grand tour of Oslo, Sunny suffered through a day at the spa with Renee and Sven introduced Jon to the head of the Arts Council.
“I think I convinced him to film most of the movie here and the skiing scenes in Lillehammer. He can still do some of the set up and exterior shots in Stockholm. But with government money, it makes sense to shoot as much here as possible.”
“So are you going to be in his movie?”
Sven raised an eyebrow. “I should have known Renee couldn’t keep a secret. I think so. I’d want to see the final script, but it would be great to work here at home. I haven’t done comedy before. That’s one thing I’ve learnt from Jon, you have to take chances, do something that scares you and don’t be afraid of making an ass of yourself on screen. I’ve had enough practice at that in real life anyway. I can’t tell you how good it’s been to spend some time with someone who understands the business. It’s almost like . . .”
“Almost like Henry. I know. Maybe they could stay with us when you’re making the movie?”
“Turn the house into a film compound? It’d be a little crazy with Bliss and a baby. But it’ll be nice to have them around for a while next year. Brian is helping out on set and Jon has an idea for Liam too.”
“He’ll be thrilled.” They pulled into the driveway.
“I’ll walk over and get Bliss in a second. I want to show you something first.”
Sven led Sunny up to his office.
“If you don’t let the cleaners up here soon, you’re going to get roaches. Why are there so many dirty dishes? And why can’t you put your empties into the recycling box?”
“Shut up and watch this.”
On the computer screen Sven and Liam were reciting lines from his screenplay. Liam appeared to be unaware of the camera, all his concentration and feeling was going into the dialogue. Sunny thought how they both had that something extra that captured the watcher.
“When did you do this?”
“The other day, while you were preparing for the big meal. I was having trouble with the dialogue and I thought acting out the lines on camera would help. It did, but even more surprising was the fact that Liam is amazing.”
He hit pause with the camera focussed on the teenager. “Look at that profile. See how the light captures his cheekbones. The camera loves him. Listen.” Sunny could hear how the boy made the words come alive.
“He’s got
it
. Whether or not he’s merely flirting with acting, we shall see. But I’m going to send the footage to Jon. His script calls for someone to play me at twenty-one. Jon thought of Liam for the part. Actually, he thought he was my nephew.”
“Stop! There.” Sunny pointed to the video image frozen on the screen. “Look at that. How he clenches his jaw when he’s angry and makes that hand gesture. He’s imitating you. You do that all the time.”
“No I don’t!” said Sven clenching his jaw and making a sawing hand gesture, grinning.
* * *
“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” Astrid took a drink of wine to steady her nerves. “This is very sudden. I can’t take it all in.”
She and Sven were having lunch at a downtown restaurant. Her heart had almost stopped when he called to say he wanted to discuss Liam and could they meet away from the house so her son wouldn’t find out.
Sven wanted to find out how she felt about the idea of Liam playing a younger version of Sven in Jon Hardy’s film. Jon approved the casting but Sven warned him that he would have to run it past Liam’s mother before they could broach the subject with the boy.
“I filmed some dialogue between me and Liam and I sent it to Jon. He thinks your son would be perfect for his new movie. Think about it,” he said, waving his hand to forestall her objections. “It will film here at home, so no travel. I will be on set to help him out and rehearse. Jon is directing and there’s nothing anyone in Hollywood likes more than being able to take the credit for discovering new talent. It would be in his best interest to help Liam look good. It may turn out to be nothing, a one-off. That way Liam would be cured of his interest in acting. Or it could lead to other things. I can’t tell you what a boost it would have been to my career to have a small part in a Jon Hardy movie when I was starting out. Astrid, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think he had talent. God knows where he gets it. Maybe his dad.”
Astrid took a gulp of wine. “I remember you writing me about how hard it was to get a foothold in Hollywood.”
“It’s tough enough when you speak the language and can play an American. It’s even tougher when you don’t and you can’t. Liam is pretty well bilingual but needs to work on a generic accent. Other than that, jeez, you should see the tape. The camera loves him. And he’s good; he can slip into a part. I saw that when I ran lines with him. He doesn’t appear to be acting. You can’t feign authenticity. I know, I’ve tried.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Sven backed off. He didn’t want to pressure her into making a decision she’d regret later. But Liam was still legally a minor and would need his parents’ permission.
“Take your time. They are working on the script and he would still have to audition. But I have to tell you, the part is his, if he wants it. Will it be a problem getting Nils’s okay?”
“What?”
“Both parents have to agree, though as the custodial parent, I imagine your signature may be enough. Do you think Nils would have a problem with Liam acting in a movie with me? Maybe becoming rich and famous?” he teased.
“No,” said Astrid with an edge to her voice. “I don’t think Nils would have a problem with that. Do you like him? Would you like working with Liam?”
“If he wants to try acting, I’ll do anything I can to help. In part,” he said squeezing her fingers, “because we are old friends. But also because of Liam. He’s such a good kid and Bliss and Sunny are crazy about him.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Fatima has to get home or her family will be worried.”
Liam squared his shoulders, ready for a fight. “Sven will kill me if I leave you alone in this storm.”
“Some thunder and lightning. Whoop di doo. I have candles ready if the lights go out. If you don’t get Fatima home safe and sound I’m going to bundle up Bliss and take her myself.”
Greenish grey eyes met stubborn blue ones. For a moment, Sunny was startled by how much Liam looked like Sven when he was angry.
“Imagine how upset my husband will be if he finds out I took the baby out in the storm,” wheedled Sunny. “Take the car and come back in the morning. I’ll deal with Sven, if he ever gets home.”
His flight from Stockholm was long overdue but Sunny refused to worry. “What can happen? I’m here in my own house.”
Liam fidgeted, uncertain. “You promise you won’t go out in the storm?”
“I promise.” Sunny mentally crossed her fingers since she would have to take Sponge out with an umbrella. The dog hated peeing in the rain.
“I could come right back after dropping Fatima off.”
“That’s silly,” argued Sunny. “She lives on the way. Go home, have a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. Judith is just a few blocks away if I need company.” She thought it wise not to mention her mother-in-law was away visiting family in Hammerfest in the north.
“Off you go!” She pushed Liam and a terrified Fatima out of the door.
When they were gone Sunny let out a deep sigh of relief. Finally, some peace.
She would finish making the pies, check on the cassoulet and spend some time with her daughter while waiting for Sven to arrive.
She’d just taken the last wild blueberry pie out of the oven when the lights went out. Turning on a gas burner, she fumbled for candles and matches, scattering them around the kitchen and the Great Room. She added a flashlight from the pantry for good measure. This is like camping, she explained to Bliss who cried at first at the sudden darkness and the noise of the storm. At least Sponge wasn’t upset. The dog was snoring by the hearth, oblivious to the lightning and thunder.
She’d managed to charge her cellphone before the blackout, so when Judith called to ensure she was okay she was able to pick up and allay her concern. After taking a flashlight upstairs to change Bliss for bed, she put her daughter into the playpen with a kiss. Time to do the dishes by hand before going to bed. Bliss could sleep in their room. Still no word from Sven but she blamed the weather.
Sunny had just finished wiping the counter when there was a knock on the front door. She barely heard the sound over the fury of the thunderstorm. Liam, she guessed, wiping her hands on the dish towel. He’s come back after all, she said to Bliss. But when she opened the door, no one was there. Just the wind, thought Sunny uneasily and went back inside.
She’d snuggled down with Bliss, playing with blocks and working on a Beatles’ song she’d been teaching the girl when Sponge roused herself and began barking. Ears up, hackles raised she raced to the back door in the solarium dining room. Through the wavery glass Sunny could see a figure but with the driving rain and the distortion, she couldn’t make out who it was. She scooped up her daughter and put her back in the safety of her playpen. Taking a deep breath, she held the dog’s collar ready to release the animal if necessary. Swallowing, she opened the door.
Even on a perfect cloudless day, Sunny would not have recognized the sodden wretch who stood before her. Astrid was soaked to the skin, rivers of rain cascading off the hood of her jacket. Her make-up was smeared and her hair was a matted mess. Was that blood on her forehead and on her hand?
“Astrid! What on earth are you doing out on a night like this? Come inside,” she said, shooing away the anxious dog and tugging her across the threshold into the sunroom. Her guest barely glanced at Sunny.
“Where is Sven? I have to talk to him. It can’t wait any longer.” Her voice was urgent, her eyes panicked and darting.
“Let me get you out of that coat and those boots.”
Astrid let her coat fall to the floor and kicked off her boots.
“Where is he? I’ve run out of time. You can’t keep him from me!”
“I would never do that.” Sunny hoped she sounded soothing.
At the sound of the baby crying in the Great Room, Astrid started forward. “He’s here! He’d never leave Bliss alone in a storm like this.”
She darted across the polished floor boards and looked around anxiously when she realized the child was alone in her playpen.
“Where is he? You have to tell me. I have to talk to him. I have to explain,” she said, grabbing Sunny’s upper arms.
Sunny closed her eyes briefly to beat back memories of Clyde on the beach. Breathing deeply Sunny forced herself to focus on the present. The sight of her daughter brought her all the way back. This was Oslo. This was Astrid, not Clyde. This wasn’t St. Barts. The mantra her therapist had taught her calmed her breathing and slowed her pulse.
Back in shaky control, Sunny led Astrid to the couch. “Sit! I will bring you a towel.”
“But where is he?”
“He’s on his way. Sven’s coming back from Stockholm. I guess his flight is delayed.” She didn’t add that he should have been home by now.
“I have to talk to him.” Astrid sat staring dully into the fire. She took no notice when Sunny wrapped a throw around her shoulders, put another on her lap and started towelling her hair.
“You’re soaked through and you’re shivering.”
“You must love this,” said Astrid with a spiteful glance. “’The Arctic Princess.’ You must love seeing me in this state.”
Sunny stopped towelling the drenched flaxen strands, taken aback by the venom in Astrid’s words.
“You’re in shock.”
She left her guest and went to a nearby cabinet, filling a tumbler with Armagnac. It was probably too much and sugary tea would have been better but the power was still off, so it would have to do.
Back on the couch she continued trying to dry off Astrid, who brought the glass to her lips, spilling some as she drank.
“This doesn’t look like the same house,” she said. “It’s all a mess.”
Sunny smiled. “Usually Fatima helps me put things away at the end of the day but Liam drove her home early to avoid the storm.”
“Liam was here. I forgot.”
“He was helping out as usual but I made him take the car to drive Fatima home. I got a text. She’s fine so at least they made it that far but they said some trees were down.”
Sunny dabbed at the blood on Astrid’s forehead. It was just a scratch but Astrid was behaving so strangely she wondered if maybe she had a concussion.
“How did you hurt your head?”
“A branch came down on my car about eight blocks away and smashed the windshield.”
“You walked the rest of the way? In this storm?”
“I had no choice. I have to talk to Sven. I have to warn him.”
“You will. I don’t know what’s going on but as soon as he gets home you can talk to him, I promise. In the meantime, come and have a bath. There should be enough hot water left in the tank. I’ll get you some dry clothes. It could be a long night.”
“There’s no sense being cold while I wait. I’ll be cold enough later.” Astrid was speaking to herself. “I’ll be cold forever once he knows.”
Soon she was led to a tub of warm water and Sunny was adding some bath oil.
“Lie back and relax. I’ll let you know if Sven arrives. There are dry clothes on the bed. They should fit.”
Astrid slid neck deep into the scented water, looking around at Sven’s shaving equipment and the cologne she knew so well sitting on the counter next to the double sinks.
Sunny had brought her to their bathroom. It felt very intimate, as if she’d seen them asleep in bed.
By the time she’d emptied the bathtub and put on a pair of what she figured were Sven’s sweatpants and a Clash T-shirt, Sunny had managed to cobble together a meal. There were sandwiches and a bowl of duck cassoulet full of meat and beans.
“I wish I could offer you more but the power is out so I can’t heat up anything I have in the freezer.”
“This is fine,” said Astrid tucking in, realizing suddenly how hungry she was. She tried to remember the last time she’d eaten — twenty-four hours ago, the moment Nils dropped his bombshell.
Soon the plates were empty and her hostess was telling her how she’d picked the wild berries for the blueberry pie on an outing with Sven’s mother.
“Judith doesn’t like me.” Her cutlery clattered on the table and she reached for the glass of Armagnac Sunny had discreetly refilled.
“That can’t be true,” said Sunny.
Astrid looked at them; the toddler sat in her mother’s arms, whose belly was heavy with pregnancy, watched by an adoring dog.
“Do you know . . .?” she took another swig of the warming liquor, “Do you know how lucky you are?”
“Yes,” said Sunny quietly, looking straight at Astrid.
Their gaze was broken by the ringing of the cellphone.
It was Sven and he was swearing. “First there was a mechanical problem and they kept us on the tarmac for hours. I wasn’t allowed to text or call. Now they say the weather is too bad to land in Oslo so I won’t be home until morning. Tell me you’re not alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
“Good. Liam gets his bonus this week.” Sunny didn’t correct him. “No storm damage to the house?”
“Some trees are down on the street but Bliss and I are fine.”
Sunny slapped Astrid’s hand away as she reached for the phone. “What time will we see you in the morning?”
“I’ll get the first flight out. I love you. I’m so sorry. I promised we wouldn’t spend a night apart during your pregnancy.”
“We’ll be waiting for you. We all love you very much.” With that she hung up and Astrid’s face fell.
“You said you’d let me talk to him. You promised!” Astrid wailed. The remnants of her fragile control shattered. Her eyes widened and she began to scratch the inside of her arms, clawing at herself with her long, tapered nails, drawing blood and leaving long reddish welts. The marks started to rise and bleed in streaks, looking obscene against her perfect white skin. Her manicured fingernails were coated with clotted blood and bits of skin.
Sunny was unable to move at first; the sight of the blood was so disturbing. Then she shook herself and set aside the sleeping child and the dog. Grabbing Astrid’s wrists to prevent any more damage, she warned, “Stop it or I will slap you.”
Astrid stared wild-eyed but stopped mutilating herself.
Sunny spoke firmly as if dealing with a toddler in mid-tantrum. “Did you really want to tell Sven this big secret on a cellphone? When he’s in another country and you can’t talk to him face-to-face? When he’s worried sick about his pregnant wife and his daughter?”
“You’re right. I have to talk to him in person but it could be too late in the morning.”
“Too late for what? What is this deadline you’re afraid of?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Sven will tell me once you’ve told him. He tells me everything.”
“Yeah, right.”
“We are completely honest with each other. We’ve had some rocky patches and got over them by agreeing that we have to share and communicate.”
“What rocky patches? You have this fairy tale marriage.”
“Nobody has a fairy tale marriage. It sounds like you’ve been reading the tabloids. Those guys should get jobs writing fiction.”
“How else was I supposed to know what’s been going on with Sven?”
“Ask him. Ask Judith. Ask me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Astrid’s question went straight to Sunny’s stomach where it struck like a clenched fist.
“What happened to Clyde? They were close in university and best friends for what? Fifteen years. Then, all of a sudden, nothing. Clyde vanishes. Not a whisper about where he went or why he disappeared from Sven’s life. You show up and Clyde vanishes. What did you do,” she asked sarcastically, “kill him?”
Sunny felt the blood rush from her face and her stomach twisted. She was back in St. Barts. There was a towel over her face, pressure on her upper arms and her abdomen and head were being kicked . . . She closed her eyes.
Sunny wearily wondered if it wouldn’t have been better not to have undergone hypnotherapy, to have never remembered exactly what happened. She opened her eyes to see Astrid staring at her in alarm, her daughter peacefully sleeping between them on the couch of the Great Room, the dog snoring, the house redolent with family memories. No, she told herself, it was better that she remembered, however much it hurt, or she wouldn’t have all this today. She wouldn’t have a family.
Sunny took a sip of her water with shaking hands and reached down to rub Bliss’s belly for comfort before beginning her story.
“I didn’t kill Clyde. But I wanted to. Some days I still want him dead. If he were here, in front of me, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be tempted to pick up a knife and slice into him like he cut Sven.”
“What are you talking about? Why would Clyde try to hurt Sven? He loved him like a brother.”