by Emily Childs
“Don’t say that again, or I’ll coat my next batch of cookies in soap,” I snap. “Jonas, I never want to go back to the way things were. You’ve become one of my greatest friends—your gift by the way—that just proves you know me more than almost anyone. You’re up there with Jane and my parents. Even if I wanted to, I can’t go back now. You’re just hitched to the Brita bumpy ride and will have to deal with it.”
“Good,” he says with intention. “I don’t want things to go back either.”
“So, tomorrow we still drive to school together like heathens?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. At least Agnes will speak with me still. She loves me no matter who I hang out with.”
“That’s Oscar’s sister?” I nod and lean my head against his shoulder. Yes, I did, and I am not ashamed of it. He tugs me close. “You’re close with her? Isn’t she like four?”
I laugh. “She’s six, and yes, we’re very close. I’m close with Oscar too, they’re basically the siblings I never had. Agnes, though, that little girl is just a bright spot in the world. I could listen to her little laugh all day long. I’ll let you in on a secret, I saw her wave at your mom once—your mom waved back. No one can resist Agnes.”
He peers down when I look up from his shoulder. “Can I ask, why does she have to wear those things on her legs?”
I stare at a dying bulb in the lamp across the street. “Inez and Karl thought they’d only be able to have Oscar. Agnes is a pleasant surprise. But her birth was really tough, and she had some injuries. She has cerebral palsy. One hand doesn’t work well, but walking has been the biggest challenge. She used to use a walker, but the braces help her stand on her own. She’s done so well though. Don’t tell anyone, but I miss Agnes the most when I go to school.”
“Well if no one talks to you tomorrow, I’m glad you have Agnes. Who knows, maybe she’ll even be friends with me. Two Jacobsons, friends with an Olsen—that would be something to talk about.”
“Three, actually,” I say slowly. My heart pounds. I think of the letter.
“What?”
“I want to show you something, okay?” Digging through my purse, I gently hand Jonas the letter my grandmother had left me. “Read this.”
Jonas obeys and unfolds the worn paper. I watch him skim through Farmor’s neat writing. He smiles a bit and nods—he must agree with something, but then—there it is, I know he is at the end.
“What? What does she mean?” he asks, looking up at me, his eyes wide and searching.
“I think she means exactly what she wrote.”
“Our grandmothers were…friends? Why wouldn’t they tell anyone?”
“I don’t know. Do you have any idea what happened between Farfar and your grandpa?”
Jonas isn’t looking at me. “All I’ve been told is grandpa felt deeply cheated by something and he blames your grandpa. That’s all I know. Have you ever shown this letter to your family?”
I shake my head. “Nope, you’re the only one. She wanted me to change what happened, you read yourself, it’s her biggest regret. That’s why tonight makes me so angry. I specifically asked what happened between the families. My grandpa told me I didn’t need to know our history.”
Jonas has a mischievous look on his face that reminds me of Axel. “I’ll admit all this talk is making me want to have you over for dinner or walk inside Hanna’s and buy my own cookies—just to defy all the insane grudges. What do you think? Would I be offered service if I went inside?”
I laugh, but truly I’m not sure. “You’d probably be accused of coming in to steal all our recipes.”
“I know this isn’t easy, but I say we let all this go. I like hanging out with you, and I need to use you for your English skills. My future is at stake if I stop seeing you.”
I flush at the words seeing you—but in a way it is true. I see Jonas ten times more than I see Axel. Something burns in my chest, breaking through the agonizing wall of bitterness. For the first time, I don’t mind that I see Jonas more, and I don’t need to worry about what that means. I can just enjoy some gummies and enjoy his company.
We quickly move away from the pain of the night and are already talking about who will be in charge of bringing the food to our Tuesday study session when the ice crunches along the sidewalk. I whip around and jump up from the bench.
“Oscar, you’re still here?” I say. Jonas goes silent. He looks between me and my cousin.
Oscar shivers in the cold, and he glances with caution at Jonas. “Agnes fell asleep, so Mom and Dad opted to stay over. I came out to look for you and make sure you’re okay. Hi, Jonas,” he says.
“Hey, Oscar.”
“How is it in there? Is Farfar going to survive, or am I burned from the family tree?” I ask.
Oscar rolls his eyes. “Not you anymore, but Uncle Nils might be. He changed the topic from you and admitted how he hired Jonas over Christmas break.”
“He didn’t,” Jonas says, looking concerned. “The partners hired me.”
Oscar smirks, his smile less awkward the longer he talks. “I know. Uncle Nils tried to say that, but in our grandpa’s mind he might as well have sought you out to hire you. I thought you’d want to know I think he’s softening grandpa a bit.” Oscar steps next to me. “Brita, I don’t care who you’re friends with. In fact, I like Bastien.” He looks at Jonas. “There, that’s my secret, I guess. I’ve gotten to know him during the bus rides and games this season and I like him. He’s a cool kid who hasn’t mentioned my last name or his once. We just get to be teammates.”
Jonas seems pleased. “I’m sorry, for everything this has caused.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “Tomorrow, just pull up in front of the house. No gas station. Heathens, remember?”
Jonas laughs. “Fine.” He faces my cousin. “I appreciate you looking after Bass.”
Oscar offers and embarrassed smile and nods. Jonas stands still for a long moment and I want to hug him again, like in his car. I think maybe that is what he’s waiting for, but then he leaves with a wave back to Clara’s.
“Come on,” Oscar says through chattering teeth. “It’s freezing out here.”
Inside the house is dark. The table has been cleaned and is tidy, no evidence of the confrontation visible at all. On the sofa bed, Aunt Inez and Uncle Karl are already asleep. Oscar takes an air mattress in the bakery, probably to sneak all the treats all night.
By the time I slither beneath my covers my body quickly succumbs and my mind fades to syrupy black.
***
Farfar sits at the table in the morning when I tromp down the stairs. I hear pleasant talk in the bakery as a few customers come in for Sunday brunch. Dad sits on the couch reading the paper, and a notable tension builds from the floorboards to the eaves; thick enough to taste. My bag weighs on my shoulders, and I strategically give myself only a few minutes to say goodbye so we won’t have time to rehash the bitterness of the night before.
Agnes sits in the middle of the floor coloring a pony in her unicorn book. Her cough draws my attention away from Farfar’s downturned lips as he studies his crossword puzzle.
“Agnes,” I whisper. “I’m leaving kiddo. Give me a hug.”
Dad peeks over the newspaper as Agnes covers her mouth and coughs again, but her brilliant smile sets in place when she squeezes my neck. “Bye, Brita. You’ll be back for the big party?”
“What big party?” I ask, looking at Dad.
He folds the paper and takes off his glasses. “We never got to it last night. The Chamber of Commerce is hosting an award dinner for influential businesses. Our family was invited. There are all sorts of prizes, a dance and all that. Should be nice. It’s in two weeks.”
“Sounds nice,” I say.
Dad is too keen. “You’ll be there of course.” He stands and opens his arms. “Come here.” I hug him, letting him squash me against his chest. Dad lowers his voice, whispering close to my ear. “Don’t let last night upset you for a second mo
re. Be happy, Brit. That’s truly all anyone in this house wants for you—even if they are a little hot-headed sometimes.”
“Love you, Dad. Thanks for everything,” I say when we pull away. Oscar isn’t around, but I’ll send him and Uncle Karl a goodbye text in the car. When Farfar and Aunt Inez stand near the door, I gulp, a loud one too.
“Brita,” Inez begins. “Last night should not have happened—especially on your birthday.”
“You should not have lied,” Farfar insists. He still sounds so angry. I can’t remember a time when my grandfather spewed his anger at me.
“Pops, we talked about this,” Inez says. “Brita, if riding with the Olsen boy—”
“Jonas,” I correct.
Inez sighs. “Jonas. If riding with him gets you to school safely, then we’re fine with it. He seems respectable enough.”
Farfar huffs, his brow knits together in an angry furrow.
Inez ignores him. “Just understand the Olsens have been fed untruths about us as well. I’m a neighborly person, but I’ve never had much trust for that family—so just be cautious.”
“Are you really giving me permission to ride with someone?” I ask, my jaw clenching.
“Yes,” Farfar says. He must have misinterpreted my tone, because he looks at me like he has bestowed a gracious gift.
“If that makes you both feel better then fine, give me your permission.” I point to the window; Jonas has pulled alongside the curb. He even steps out of the car as though he is considering coming to the door. I won’t put him through that. “But I already gave myself permission. I love you both, but you can’t tell me who I can care about. And I care about Jonas and his family. Farfar, don’t let this cause more anger between you and Viggo, please. We’re big kids now, and can make our own choices. Love you.”
I kiss his cheek quickly. He grunts in response. Inez gives me a stiff hug, but her attention turns to the window. Jonas takes a step toward a front porch.
I open the door and slam it before he’s forced into the tension. Jonas grins when I look at him.
“Hi,” I say. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” He hesitates and glances at the house. “Everything good?”
I shake my head as he opens the door for me. “Not really, but it will be. Remember what I told you last night, you’re stuck with me as your friend. They will need to get used to it.”
Jonas smiles and seems relieved. Inez catches his eye through the bay window, but hurries and hides behind the curtains. Jonas slips into the driver’s seat, and I glance across the street at Clara’s. Sigrid and Elias stand on the front stoop. They aren’t smiling, but they do offer Jonas a final wave. It will take time, I keep reminding myself. It will just take time.
Chapter 20
By the time we arrive at my apartment building, my stomach gurgles in that awkward feeling between stuffed and hungry again. Jonas and I haven’t been as talkative on the drive home, but when he parks in one of the stalls at my building we both seem at ease now that Lindström, the bakeries, and our families are at our backs. Axel texted me during the drive. He apologized for not seeing me on my birthday, or getting me a gift. I don’t respond.
“Want to come inside and eat something besides sugar?” I ask when Jonas shuts off the ignition.
“Oh, I planned on it,” he says through a smile. “I know you and Jane have real food, I’m going to go home to dry cereal. I don’t even have milk. So, yes I’m coming inside.”
“Good.” I grab my bag and the boxes of hot chocolate Jonas gave me. “By the way, are you going to the Chamber of Commerce dinner?”
“It was the talk of the entire weekend. Wait, is your grandpa invited too?” I nod, linking my arm with his as we trek through the snow. The transition from not touching to touching is as smooth as silk. We both don’t even notice I’ve done it.
“That’s going to be an interesting night,” Jonas says. “My dad said there will be awards. I can see that posing a problem with their level of competition with each other.”
“I’m going, and you still haven’t answered if you are going?” I press again, fumbling for my keys.
“There’s no way my mom would let me miss it. You know it’s like a suit and tie affair. Anything to get her sons dressed up, my mom will take it.”
I laugh, but can’t say I disagree with Sigrid. The Olsen boys in dashing suits and black ties, I can handle a night like that. Plus, Jane will die to help me buy a new, fancy dress. I vow to ignore the inevitable tension between the two bakers of Lindström.
We step inside, the apartment is dark and eerie. Setting down my bag, I look around the corner for any sign of Jane.
“Janey,” I call, looking back at Jonas. He slings his coat over the back of the couch. “Hmm, I guess she’s not home. Usually Sunday is relax day.”
I flick on the kitchen light and a swarm of loud, vivacious, overly excited college students leap out from behind any piece of furniture they can find.
“SURPRISE!” They scream as one. Jane bounces forward and sprays my head with blue silly string.
“Happy Birthday!” she squeals. She wraps me up in her arms and jumps up and down, so I am forced to do the same.
“Jane!” I smile as she crowns my stringy head with a toddler’s plastic princess tiara. “I told you no surprises.”
“Like she would ever listen,” Emma says, her hand clasped tightly in Brody’s thick fingers. “Happy Birthday!”
“Joe, you did such a good job getting here at just the right moment.” Jane squeezes his arm.
My jaw drops and I stomp right up to his arrogant, smirking face. “You were a part of this? I feel betrayed.”
“Oh, it was his idea,” Jane shouts across the room. She’s already holding a large punch bowl, and revealing stacks of hidden pizza boxes. “He called me up, and I put all this together in like three hours. It’s going to be epic!”
Jonas peels away some of the string from my hair. “You deserve a birthday redo,” he says softly, and I feel my throat tighten. “The original was ruined because of me, so I plan to make up for it.”
“It wasn’t ruined because of you,” I argue. “You, in fact, saved it in the end.”
My head sort of feels like it has been dunked in a bucket of water when Jonas takes my hand and pulls me into the middle of the room. That drive to make things work with Axel, yeah, I need to admit the drive has faded. Soon I huddle in the center of the overstuffed room, laughing and loving every moment. Some people I don’t know well—but the ones who mattered are all there. Jane isn’t kidding. She has planned everything. Brody and Matt handle a video game station and I wallop Matt in Mario Kart, thank you very much. Jonas decimates me in one of those Minute-to-Win-it games where stacking cups is involved. But I destroy his roommate, Brett, in ripping tissues out of the box as fast as possible. It is the first time I’ve met Brett, but I feel like games, music and pizza are the best sort of icebreakers. I do hate surprises, I really do. But the effort and thought everyone in my college life has gone through to put it all together keeps the smile on my face well into the night.
At the end, streamers, empty pizza boxes, plastic cups, and a few sleeping people scatter across the apartment. I yawn and reach for my coat to walk with Jonas back to his car.
“Did you have fun?” he asks.
“I did, thank you. I never thought you could be so cunning,” I say and wrap my coat tighter around my body when the wind picks up.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he says. “I was being serious though, Brita. You deserve to be happy. I really didn’t like seeing you so upset last night, especially when it had something to do with me.”
My fingernails dig into the layers of my coat when he steps closer. He pulls me against his chest, naturally my arms find a place around his waist. I wonder if he can feel the way my pulse thuds like a jackhammer in all my major arteries. We’ve hugged before, but this time is different—I want Jonas to hold me longer than normal. Maybe, even a little more t
han a hug. Ashamed of myself, I push those thoughts out of my head. I haven’t even cut things off with Axel and already I think this way about his brother. Jonas pulls away slowly, our faces brush as we part. Jonas always calls me his friend, so the way he looks at me in that moment is only that—a friend to a friend. I think.
“Don’t worry about what happened back home, okay? I’d do it again,” I tell him, trying to keep my eyes locked with his instead of inching down to his lips. “Thank you, Jonas. You’ve made this birthday the very best.”
“I’m glad. I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“Yes, you will. Goodnight, drive safe.” I say drive safe, but really Jonas lives less than a mile from my apartment. All these years and I’ve never known.
I quickly rush back to the warmth of the apartment when he’s gone. Jane stands right behind the door, and when I jump back in surprise I slip and bang against the wall. We stifle laughs at our clumsiness, and so we don’t wake up Natalie and a girl from my literature classes sprawled out on our sofas.
“You scared me,” I whisper.
“Obviously.” Jane smiles, her pink painted lips wide. This smile isn’t her regular full-of-joy grin, this one has a purpose. “So, when are you going to tell him?”
I scoot past and slowly drift toward my bedroom. “Tell who, what?”
“Jonas,” Jane says. She tries to keep up with me in the hallway.
“What are you talking about?” My face heats like a fever, and I turn my back on her, so she won’t notice.
“When are you going to tell Jonas you’re in love with him?”
“Jane! W-what are you…I am not,” I stammer. “I don’t like Jonas like that, okay?”
“Because you’re in love with Axel?”
“I didn’t say I was in love, but he’s the one I’ve been seeing, yes.”
Jane laughs loud enough Natalie grumbles something about silence, but it doesn’t stop Jane from pressing the issue. “Seeing him? Brita, most of your free time is spent with Jonas. You’ve seen Axel once since coming back to school. Oh, and it isn’t one way. Jonas blesses the very ground you walk on. He wouldn’t have called me about this party if he didn’t.”
