[2013] The Heart Echoes

by Helena vonZweigbergk

  “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

  Henrik looks tired and dejected as Astrid moves past him. She sighs as she steps into the corridor. Upstairs she takes a quick shower and gets dressed. When she comes back down to the kitchen, Josefin and Sara are sitting at the table with their eyes fixed on their iPads. Where did they get those? Did she and Henrik decide to buy iPads for the kids after all?

  When the girls see her come into the kitchen, they stick their iPads under their arms and leave the room.

  “We’ll do something together tonight, girls,” Astrid calls after them. Neither of them replies. She eats some yogurt and then tells Henrik she’s ready to go out.

  Neither of them speaks as Henrik drives. He hasn’t told Astrid where they’re going, and she doesn’t ask. Soon she realizes that they’re headed for Hellasgården. When he parks the car, he turns to Astrid and says, “Maybe we can find a rock to sit on down by the lake.”

  She merely nods, unable to think of anything to say in reply. Has he been spying on her? Or have they simply grown so close that they’ve come to share all the same points of reference?

  Without ever having discussed it, they both headed for the same place to find the silence needed for serious thought. The lake is just as mirror-smooth as on that night when Astrid came here and let Michael’s words fade away across the surface of the water. But now it’s daytime, the sun is blazing, and the intense blue of the sky is reflected in the lake. From the swimming area they hear children splashing about as they chatter and laugh, interrupted occasionally by the admonishing shout of a parent.

  “Let’s go farther,” says Henrik, motioning toward the area where Astrid sat before. “It’s quieter over there.”

  She follows her husband and sits down, maintaining a tactful silence. Astrid shades her eyes with her hand as she stares at the sparkling water. Henrik sits down next to her and immediately starts talking without any sign of hesitation, a clear indication that he had carefully thought through what he planned to say.

  “I know you’re very upset about this whole thing with Lena. I also realize that having to deal with Michael has opened old wounds. And on top of everything else, Viktor was badly beaten in Copenhagen. All of these things are really distressing. But you just can’t go on like this, Astrid. We can’t keep living like this.”

  Henrik turns to face her, his expression resolute.

  Astrid still has a bad headache. She takes a deep breath, preparing to tell him everything. She wants to say that in her despair she contemplated taking several sleeping pills, but something stopped her. After her behavior yesterday and this morning, she wants to defend herself, to show that she’s still fit to be a wife and a mother. With that in mind, she realizes it wouldn’t be such a good idea to mention the pills. She pushes aside a few stray strands of hair, noticing that her hand is shaking, as if she were hungover.

  “What have I done that’s so awful?” she asks faintly.

  Henrik stares at her for a moment, and she realizes he believes she shouldn’t need to ask that question. But the only thing she can think about is that something is missing from Henrik’s expression, and that scares her. During all their years together, there has always been an underlying warmth in Henrik’s eyes whenever he looks at her, a loving willingness to forgive when it comes to her occasional temperamental moods.

  “But this whole situation with Lena . . . How can I worry about being nice to you when Lena is always on my mind? You have to see how upset I am.”

  “It’s not how you treat me that I’m concerned about,” Henrik says. “It’s how you’ve been treating Viktor.”

  “Viktor? Just because I got a little annoyed?”

  “A little annoyed? I think your attitude toward him has been both ill-advised and strange, especially when it has to do with Michael. You know how I feel about Viktor. I truly love him as my own son. And it’s painful to be reminded that I’m not his biological father. Can’t you understand that? Just for once, can’t you put yourself in my shoes? How do you think I felt, seeing that handsome bastard come walking into the schoolyard to weasel his way into our family? Maybe you think I should just man up and deal with it? Well, you need to deal with it, too. Viktor has a right to establish a relationship with his biological father without hearing a bunch of critical remarks from the rest of us. It hurts him when you’re so negative and angry toward Michael. You’re going to have to make peace with Michael and what happened between the two of you. It’s not fair to Viktor for you to behave with such hostility.”

  “Hostility?” Astrid asks, confused.

  “Damn it, Astrid, when did you start having to repeat everything I say? Viktor can’t even mention Michael’s name without you getting furious or acting weird. None of us can deal with it anymore, especially Viktor. He’s still recovering from being . . .”

  Henrik’s voice breaks, and Astrid sees tears in his eyes.

  “That was the worst thing I’ve ever been through,” Henrik continues as he gazes out at the lake. “When he walked toward me there in the airport and I saw how he looked, I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart. And you know what happened next, Astrid? I was filled with anger toward Michael. Because he hadn’t taken better care of Viktor, because he’d let him get into trouble like that.”

  “But it was Viktor who—”

  “I know that! There’s absolutely no reason why I should be mad at Michael. It was just a primitive response. It’s not a logical reaction. Michael has never done anything to me—on the contrary. I know this might sound insensitive toward you and Viktor, but I’m actually glad he left you because I got to spend my life with the two of you instead.”

  Henrik suddenly looks uncertain. He picks up a twig, which he snaps in half, and then tosses both pieces into the lake.

  Astrid doesn’t know what to say. Her face feels hot. She touches her cheek. Does she have a fever?

  “I’m sorry.” Henrik holds out his arms, and Astrid moves into his embrace. He pulls her close and utters a sigh, his voice quavering.

  “I’m sorry,” he says again. “Of course I know that you and Viktor would have preferred him to stay, but I . . .”

  Henrik pulls away and gives Astrid an embarrassed look as he puts his hand in his pants pocket in search of a tissue. Not finding any, he wipes his face on the sleeve of his shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” he says a third time, and then clears his throat. “I didn’t intend to sit here wallowing in self-pity.”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry,” Astrid replies.

  An uncomfortable silence settles over them. She thinks she ought to say something about how happy and grateful she is to have met Henrik, in spite of everything. But she can’t bring herself to say that because she’s ashamed. Because of Michael’s hands moving over her body, because of his voice murmuring in her ear.

  “Well, okay. What I really wanted to say,” Henrik goes on, his voice sounding a little more authoritative and composed, “is that you need to let Viktor develop a warm and inquisitive attitude toward Michael. We have to adopt a different way of talking about Michael in our family. Don’t you see how much you’re hurting Viktor when you lash out at Michael and talk about him with such scorn?”

  Astrid turns to look at the lake, as if she’s afraid the water might blab about the secret words that were spoken here only a few nights ago. “All I meant is that he’s old enough now to be in contact with Michael on his own,” she explains.

  “But it’s not that simple. Don’t you see that? It’s not easy for Viktor to handle this all alone. We need to encourage him to stay in touch with Michael, even though it’s not really what we want. I’m sure you realize that.”

  “Then why do we have to?” Astrid asks, grabbing at straws.

  “There’s no other option. Not as I see it. We have to trust what we have as a family. We’re Viktor’s family, but we need to be able to acknowledge Michael’s presence. We need to believe that our love is strong enough to include him, too.”<
br />
  Astrid nods in agreement and tries to smile.

  “Because it is, right?” Henrik asks, looking a bit uncertain.

  “Of course it is,” Astrid assures him. “I think we should go home now. It’s hot and sticky, and I’m getting stiff sitting here like this.”

  Astrid stands up, breathing hard as she stretches. She gives Henrik a hug, and they stand there with their arms around each other. At first it feels awkward, but then Henrik pulls her close and they hug for a long time. Astrid shuts her eyes and presses her face against his chest. After a while they step back and stare at each other. Henrik looks shy.

  “I’m so glad it’s you,” Astrid says. “You, and not that—”

  Henrik holds up a finger in warning.

  “No more of that. Be nice about Michael. From now on we need to be careful what we say. For Viktor’s sake.”

  She nods but looks away. Then she starts walking back to the car, with Henrik following.

  “Should we stop somewhere for coffee?” Henrik asks.

  “I think we should go back home to the kids.”

  “Okay. Let’s do that.”

  As Astrid is about to get into the car, Henrik puts his arms around her from behind and kisses the back of her neck. “I love you,” he murmurs.

  “I love you, too,” she says. Henrik hugs her for a moment, then steps back. When she turns around, she has to resist an urge to look away. She steels herself to meet his eyes.

  “Yesterday when I went to the movie with the kids,” Henrik says, his gaze fixed on her, “I couldn’t pay any attention to the film. All I could think about was you and whether we did the wrong thing by leaving you home alone. And there was something else that kept nagging at me. Does anyone ever know when disaster is going to strike? Like with our family. What if something happens, what if everything falls apart? Would there be some sort of advance warning so we could stop it from happening? I sat there in the theater with the kids and thought to myself, Maybe this is how it starts. One night we go to see a movie and that’s it. That’s when it happens. Do you know what I mean?”

  When Henrik falls silent, Astrid responds by slipping back into his embrace. She hides her face against his shoulder, suppressing the fear that appears in the form of two cold drops of sweat on her forehead. She has no idea whether a disaster may have been set in motion.

  It’s Sunday morning, and Astrid has offered to take Kerstin and Lena for a drive. She’s baked little spinach pies made with feta and honey, and she’s filling a thermos with coffee when Kerstin calls. Her mother says that she has just talked to Sandra, who wants to come along on the outing.

  “But I baked pies.”

  That’s all Astrid manages to say, even though she is desperate to object. She doesn’t want to deal with Sandra. Last night everything finally calmed down. She and the girls made a pizza and ate it together while watching TV. Viktor wasn’t home, but the girls sat on the sofa on either side of their parents. Astrid kept her arm around Henrik all evening, as if by holding him close she might be able to awaken something inside of herself.

  “Isn’t there enough food for Sandra?” Kerstin is asking now.

  Astrid looks at the big pan on top of the stove—and at the containers on the counter that she’s planning to use to freeze the extra spinach pies.

  “I guess so. I just wish you’d told me before. I’m not sure, but the girls might want to come, too, and then it’s going to be really crowded. There won’t be room for Sandra in the car.”

  Astrid sees Josefin giving her an inquiring look as she comes into the kitchen to put her teacup in the sink.

  “So are they coming or aren’t they?” asks Kerstin.

  “No, looks like they can’t after all,” Astrid says sullenly. Then she ends the call, after agreeing to meet Lena, Sandra, and Kerstin outside Lena’s apartment building in an hour.

  When Astrid puts down the phone, she sees Josefin staring at her.

  Astrid is fuming. Why did Sandra have to spoil the excursion? This is not what she needs right now.

  Josefin looks like she’s waiting for something.

  “What?” Astrid says, a bit sharply.

  “What was that all about? What did you mean about us coming, too?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But you said—”

  “I thought you might want to come along with me and Grandma and Lena,” Astrid interrupts her daughter. “We’re going for a drive, but you can’t now because Sandra is coming, too, and that wasn’t the original plan.”

  “Well, I don’t want to go, anyway.”

  “Okay.”

  Astrid leans on the kitchen counter and takes a deep breath. It’s happening again. The children are slipping away from her. She’s pushing them away.

  “I’m sorry.” She stretches out her hand toward Josefin, who doesn’t seem to notice as she leaves the kitchen.

  Damn Sandra.

  How many times has Astrid had that thought lately? She really hates her. Sandra is always so demanding and worried about being left out. Just like when she was a child. Every time there was a party or it was Christmas Eve, Sandra would always think she’d be forgotten.

  Sandra is forever elbowing her way into things.

  Astrid is sitting in the car, waiting for the others to show up. She’s planning to drive them over to a shore area she knows near Saltsjöbaden. Kerstin is upstairs with Lena, helping her pack a few things. Astrid glances in the rearview mirror and sees Sandra approaching. She notices the flinty look in her sister’s eye, even though she’s pretending to be nonchalant.

  Sandra pauses when she reaches the car, as if expecting Astrid to lean over and open the door—or, even worse, to get out and come around to open the door for her.

  Astrid doesn’t budge. The car door is unlocked. All Sandra has to do is open it herself.

  Now Kerstin comes out of the building with Lena, who looks fragile and tired.

  Astrid quickly gets out of the car. But before she manages to reach the sidewalk, Sandra steps forward to take Lena’s arm. Lena’s face is wan, and she appears to be in pain. Her shoulders and arms are thin, but her stomach is bulging. She’s wearing a short red cotton dress, and even her legs look pale and skinny.

  “Come on, I’ll help you get in,” Astrid says, opening the front passenger door for Lena.

  “I think it’ll be better for her to sit in back with me,” Sandra says, opening the back door.

  Astrid watches as Sandra and Kerstin help Lena into the backseat on the driver’s side. Sandra gets in next to her, and Kerstin climbs into the front seat. Astrid sees Sandra holding Lena’s hand, which only serves to further ignite her anger.

  What is she up to?

  Sometimes Sandra can be so fawning, so ingratiating. Is there some other item she’s hoping to lure away from poor Lena?

  Kerstin turns to look at Lena as Astrid drives along Folkungagatan and heads out of the city.

  “It’s going to be so lovely to get out in nature,” Kerstin tells Lena. “Get away from all these exhaust fumes.”

  “And have a bite to eat while we look at the sea,” Sandra adds.

  Astrid sees in the rearview mirror that Sandra is still clutching Lena’s hand, as if it were some sort of good luck charm she doesn’t want to let go.

  “Did you bring a bag lunch?” Astrid asks Sandra.

  “Mamma said you were bringing enough food for me, too,” her sister replies.

  “I suppose there’s plenty.”

  Astrid pretends to focus all her attention on her driving, but she sees Sandra giving her a mocking look.

  “If you don’t think there’s enough,” Sandra replies, “maybe we can stop somewhere along the way and buy some more food. This whole excursion idea was really short notice, so I didn’t have time to put anything together. But Mamma said you’ve been planning it for a while.”

  The spinach pies in the trunk suddenly seem slightly ludicrous. Astrid imagines Sandra’s expression when she sees the l
unch she has packed and the silent, conspiratorial glance she’ll give Lena.

  So, their prim and proper sister has been baking again. Maybe she even brought along a tablecloth. And a thermos. And cups. She probably thought of everything.

  Then they’ll shower Astrid with compliments.

  Don’t they know she can hear the slight sneer in their voices? Don’t they know she’s fully aware of how the two of them are always ridiculing her?

  The sky is overcast when they reach their destination. Astrid opens the trunk and looks inside at the picnic basket and the folded blanket. She hears Sandra saying the weather doesn’t look exactly promising at the moment.

  No, Astrid thinks, it doesn’t.

  She stands there at the back of the car, squinting up at the sky. Kerstin comes over to stand beside her, casting a worried look at the picnic basket.

  “Hmm . . . It’s not going the way we planned, is it?” Kerstin says. “We should have known better. The TV weatherman forecasted rain for today.”

  Lena glances up at the clouds and shrugs.

  “Looks like a fine day to me,” she says, and the other three hurry to agree.

  “We just have to make the best of it,” Sandra adds, looking at Astrid for support. But when Astrid merely gives her an icy glare, Sandra goes over to Lena and hugs her.

  “Okay, let’s all have a good time. What’s a little rain, anyway?”

  Lena says she needs to pee and Kerstin offers to help her find a place.

  “Why don’t you get out the food in the meantime?” Kerstin tells Astrid, giving her a stern look. She has sensed the tension between Sandra and Astrid, and she wants the two sisters to defuse whatever the issue is while she and Lena step away for a few minutes.

  “Then we’ll have such a nice time together,” she adds, giving Sandra a meaningful look. She and Lena leave, both of them moving slowly.

  Astrid stuffs the blanket under one arm and then lifts the basket out.

  “Shall I carry something?” Sandra asks.

  “No, but maybe you could find a good place for us to sit down,” Astrid replies.