by Willow Rose
"Why is that awesome?" he said.
"Because it's good for you to have a friend."
"I already have a friend. I have Skye."
"I know. I know," I said. "It's good to have many friends. And now you have one at school."
"Why do you keep stating the obvious?" he asked. "I know I have a friend at school."
"I just thought that maybe you'd like to invite him over one day, huh?" I asked.
But Victor had already lost interest in what I was saying. He and Skye were done eating and excused themselves and left. I looked after him, wondering what he shared with Skye that he never did with me.
Your boy is happy. Don't make it an issue. Don't create a problem that isn't there.
I took another piece of meat and ate while wondering how to stop being jealous of my son's girlfriend. Was it normal to feel this way? I guessed it was. Maybe I just felt it a little more extreme because I never really felt like Victor was mine. I guess I was afraid of losing the little I had.
"So, Morten, any exciting news from your work?" my mom asked.
"Well, no, not really," he said, chewing. "The island had a pretty quiet day today, which is good."
"That is good," my dad said and put his silverware down. "When the police are bored, things are going well for our community."
Morten scratched his forehead. "I wouldn't say I’m bored, but yes, you're absolutely right. It's one of the few professions where you really want to be out of work."
We finished our dinner and Morten helped me clean up while my mom and dad watched the news in the living room. I knew that my mom was itching to say something about my self-publishing ordeal, but I was surprised to see that she kept quiet all through the dinner. I bet my dad had something to do with that.
I did the dishes while Morten wiped. He looked at the water coming out of the faucet.
"They say she drowned," he suddenly said, his eyes fixed on the water. I turned it off.
"What? Who…Ann?"
He nodded and put the pan down. "She had water inside her lungs. Her stomach was filled too. Several of her organs were so filled with water they had burst."
"What? That sounds crazy! How's that even possible?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. The forensics say the water must have somehow been forced inside of her. It doesn't look like a normal drowning. It had to have happened fast too."
"So, do you think she was killed?"
He shrugged. "It can hardly have happened by accident, they say. But I don't know. It sounds very odd."
I stared into the sink where the water was slowly running down the drain, making a sucking sound as it disappeared.
"It sure does. I mean, how do you force water inside someone? Using a pressure washer?"
Morten shrugged again. "I honestly don't know. It all sounds very odd to me, but again, I’m no expert."
I returned to my dishes, and we worked together in quiet, each of us wondering what had happened to poor Ann Mortensen when my dad came out and told us they were heading home.
"Mom's tired."
"Thanks for coming over, Dad," I said and wiped my hands on the dishtowel, then followed him back into the hallway to say goodbye. I kissed my dad on the cheek.
"Did you say goodbye to the kids?"
He nodded. "Don't worry about Maya," he said with a low voice.
"Boy trouble?" I asked, knowing my dad had a way of getting things out of my daughter that I never could.
He nodded. "This too shall pass."
I felt a wave of relief rush through me since I wanted Maya to have as normal a youth as possible and, so far, that hadn't happened. But having boy trouble certainly was in the category of normal. It made me happy.
"Thanks," I said.
He kissed my cheek. "No worries."
My dad walked ahead, and my mom came up to me and grabbed my face between her hands.
"Thank you for a wonderful dinner tonight. It's so good to be together. I’m glad you're hanging in there despite all the bad things they're saying about you everywhere."
Wow, Mom. You almost made it. You almost made it all night without mentioning it.
"Mom...I…"
She looked into my eyes. "Why would you ruin your own career like that? You were doing so well for yourself?"
"Ulla! We're leaving now," my dad yelled from the doorway.
"I just don't get it; that's all," she added.
"That is absolutely no surprise to me," I said, then kissed her cheek goodbye.
Chapter Nineteen
As he realized something was off with his toilet—the water was splashing against the sides, and there was water on the bathroom floor—Sven Thomsen forgot all about calling the police and had to call the plumber instead. Of course, the guy arrived after dark with some lame excuse that it had been a busy day and he had lots of emergency calls.
Sven didn't want to hear his excuses but guided him directly to the bathroom and showed him the puddle next to the toilet.
"It's leaking."
The plumber knelt next to it and pulled out his toolbox. Sven stayed and watched the man to make sure he didn't mess up more than he fixed. You never knew with these types. But as he stood there, his phone suddenly rang, and he walked into the living room to answer it.
"Hi, Dad."
It was his daughter. She lived in Copenhagen now with her husband and Sven's three grandchildren. Why they had to move all the way over there, he didn't understand, but just as little did he understand why they didn't come back. Fanoe Island was such a good place to live. And clean. There was no reason for them to be living in that big, dirty city when they could be out here where the children could grow up running on the beach and in the forest. Sven had grown up here himself and enjoyed every moment of it.
It was something about a job. Jeanie, his daughter, had gotten some fancy position in the HR department of a big software company and they had to live in Copenhagen for that. Why she was so keen on having a career and not taking care of her children was beyond Sven. He had had a career, yes, but not his wife.
"At least have one of you stay home and take care of the children," he had told her back then. "You can't both have big careers and have a family at the same time. It's not fair to the little ones."
But Jeanie had laughed at him and called him a dinosaur while patting him on the cheek in that way she did that, to her seemed affectionate, but to him felt condescending. Yes, Sven was getting older, and he was retired, but he wasn't old. Not really old. Sixty-seven was hardly old. At least it didn't feel like that.
"How are you doing, Dad?" Jeanie now asked, her voice soft. He could sense her exaggerated sympathy oozing all the way through the phone. Pity, he called it. This was a pity call.
"Me? I'm fine."
"Good. Good. Getting enough to eat?" she asked.
"Why wouldn't I eat?"
"I don't know…just since it was always…Mom who cooked…"
"So, you assumed just because your mother died that I wouldn't eat food?" he asked, trying to keep an eye on the plumber at the same time. He didn't trust him much. Still, he didn't want him to listen in on his conversation either, so he had to keep his distance. He just hoped the guy would be able to fix the problem quickly.
"No…no, of course not…" Jeanie sighed. "Why do you have to be so…all the time…can't we just talk?"
"I don't know, Jeanie. Can you call just because you want to talk to me? Not because you feel sorry for me?"
His daughter sighed again. He had hurt her. He knew he had and regretted it. He opened his mouth to say something. He wanted to express that he was, in fact, happy that she called him because he missed her and the kids terribly and he felt so alone, but his daughter beat him to it.
"I have to go, Dad. I'll call again later this week."
She hung up before he could say anything, and he put the phone down on the table next to his picture of him and Birthe. It was taken before she had received that stupid phone call from h
er doctor telling her it had spread.
"Stupid doctors," Sven now said to the picture. "You were fine before you went to that check-up. We were all doing fine."
Since Sven was a doctor himself, or he used to be, he was allowed to call them stupid and ignorant if he wanted to. He hadn't been a physician but had worked in a lab and was very proud of his research for which he had won many prizes, prizes that were now hanging on his wall in his study gathering dust, while the world forgot his name.
That stupid neighbor still hasn't cleared his sidewalk.
Sven grumbled and walked to the window, then peeked out when the plumber came out of the bathroom, and Sven forgot the police once again.
The plumber wiped his fingers on a towel. Sven hoped it was one he had brought himself and not one of Sven's. He wouldn't know how to get all that black stuff off it. Birthe would have known how, but it wasn't like she had left a manual on how to do things around the house when she died. There was no darn manual for anything in life.
"I…I can't really find the leak," he said.
"You can't find it?" Sven asked, annoyed. "The water was right there. On the floor. Didn't you see it? It was quite hard to miss."
"Yes, of course, but I can't find any cracks in the toilet, and it's not clogged or anything."
"Oh. Then what do you want me to do about it?" Sven asked, irritated. If you call in an expert, you expect them to get the job done, not leave without any answers.
"It might be an animal of some sort. We're getting that a lot lately, you know with the freezing temperatures we've had and all. Animals seek shelter in the pipes and then…"
"You’re telling me some animal dripped water on my tiles? That it crawled out of the toilet and into my bathroom? Then let me ask you one more question. Where the heck is that animal now?"
"It could have crawled back…" the plumber tried, but Sven was tired of listening to his nonsense. It was like everything else in this stupid world. If you wanted something done, you'd have to do it yourself.
"Just get out of here," he told him and opened the front door.
"Call me if anything else happens or if it gets worse," the plumber said, but Sven had already slammed the door shut. He walked through the living room, grumbling about his neighbor and how he was definitely going to call the police on him first thing in the morning.
Chapter Twenty
"You kissed Alex?"
Christina paused on the other end. Maya had returned from dinner and was sitting on her bed watching Netflix when she called. Maya's heart dropped.
"What did you say?"
"It's all over the group chat," she said. "Didn't you see it?"
"I left the group chat long ago," Maya said.
"Oh, well…but it is. Everyone is talking about you two. I knew you'd come around. I have to admit, I’m kind of jealous. He is so…"
"Yummy, I know. You said that," Maya said with a deep exhale. "Exactly who is saying that we kissed?"
"Well, he is."
"Alexander?" Maya asked.
"Yes. He said you two kissed this afternoon in front of your house…wait…it's not true?"
"Let's just say it's complicated," Maya said.
"How can it be complicated? Either you kissed, or you didn't," Christina continued. "So, did you?"
"Kind of."
Christina shrieked on the other end. "I can't believe it. So, are you two like an item now? You must be; I know you, and you don't just run around kissing just anyone."
"It's not like that," Maya said and closed the lid of her computer. "He kissed me. I didn't kiss him back."
Christina went quiet on the other end. "Oh."
"Yes, now you understand my reluctance to…I can't believe he’s telling everyone…what the heck is he up to?"
"I guess he’s proud?" Christina said.
"Of what? Forcing a kiss on me…a kiss I didn't want?"
"Well, no matter what, everyone thinks you're dating now. They're totally shipping you two. You are the new hot thing."
"I don't even know the guy," Maya said, then looked out into the darkness where the snowflakes were still falling. If it kept this up all night, they'd have to close the school tomorrow. Maya secretly hoped they would. She couldn't bear the thought of having to face the entire school tomorrow. Not after this.
What kind of an idiot tells the whole school?
"So, are you going to date him at least?" Christina asked.
"Christina, we've been over this. I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I’m not remotely interested in having one."
Christina sighed. "Okay. I am a little relieved, I have to admit. I know I keep saying that he is so hot and all, and that you should date him, but the more I think about it, the more I fear losing you to him. If you two become an item, then you'll be one of the popular ones, and I'll be left all alone."
Maya chuckled. "That's not going to happen. I’m not going to date Alexander, and I am certainly not becoming one of the popular kids. There's no chance of that; don't you worry."
After that, they hung up, and Maya thought for a long time about Samuel while watching the snow dance outside her window. She had let herself fall for him and look where that got her. For all she knew, this guy could be some serial killer too. It wasn't like they carried a sign around warning people.
Chapter Twenty-One
He fell asleep in his recliner as usual. Ever since Birthe had left him, he had been terrible at keeping bedtimes and instead watched TV till he couldn't hold his eyes open anymore. It was just easier that way. Then when he woke up in the middle of the night, still in his chair, he would fumble into bed and sleep the rest of the night. It made it easier for him since he often couldn't fall asleep with no one beside him in the big bed. His daughter had recently suggested he get rid of the old king-sized bed and get one that was more fitting for just one person instead.
"Would make room for a desk or a chair to sit in and read instead."
"Why would I need a desk or another chair?" he had asked her. "I have plenty of chairs. Besides, I don't like to read. Your mother liked to read. Not me."
He didn't want to give up his bed. Sven loved the bed. He had been sleeping there for thirty years with the love of his life, and now she wanted to change it out, just like that? Was it really that easy for her to forget her mother? To remove any trace of her existence? Not to Sven. He wanted to keep things the way they had always been, even her clothes on her side of the closet.
He dreamt about her while sleeping in the recliner, the TV muted, just as he always did. She came to him, embraced him, and everything was the way it was supposed to be. He was back at his job at the lab that he loved so much, and she was by his side at night. This time, he dreamt that they were sitting in the yard drinking lemonade on a Sunday afternoon. He was reading the paper—mostly skimming headlines—while she read her book. Some silly romance, probably. Sven would say something funny about the half-naked guy on the cover, and then he would laugh, while she continued to ignore him.
Those were the times, the good times.
Sven was pulled away from his good times when a noise woke him up. He opened his eyes with a grunt only to realize everything was back to what it had been before he fell asleep. Birthe was no longer there, she wasn't reading her silly novel, and the sun wasn't shining.
But there was something else, a sound that annoyed Sven. That stupid sound of water dripping onto the bathroom floor.
"Stupid plumber who can't find a simple leak," Sven mumbled to himself, then tried to fall back asleep. He'd have to call the guy again tomorrow; there really wasn't much else he could do right now, was there?
Maybe place some towels on the floor to minimize the damage?
Sven didn't really want to get up from his recliner. He wanted to return to that place in the sun, the one where she was still there, where the world was right again.
But the dripping sound continued and soon seemed to grow louder. Maybe it was just something he imagined; maybe i
t wasn't growing louder, but it just felt that way because it was so darn annoying. Fact was, he couldn't fall back asleep. He sat there in his chair, grumbling and groaning about the plumber and how incompetent he was when the dripping sound soon became something else. Now it was more of a slithering, slurping sound, one he didn't recognize. If he didn't know better, he would almost think that the water was moving.
Nonsense. It's dripping slowly onto the floor and will leave a puddle, that's all. Nothing you can't wipe up tomorrow.
Sven grumbled some more, then closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep again. But the sound grew louder, and now it seemed it was approaching him, coming closer and closer. The slurping and slithering noises reached his chair, then stopped right behind him. Heart in his throat, Sven shot his eyes open, then sat up straight just in time to look into the creature's eyes before it forced waves of liquid inside his body. Sven gurgled and fought to breathe while wondering if Birthe would be where he was going after this.
He doubted it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I opened my eyes with a gasp and stared at the ceiling. I had been dreaming about Victor. In my dream, Victor had disappeared, and I couldn't find him anywhere. Every time I thought I saw him and reached out for him, he would run away from me, holding Skye's hand. I could still hear Skye's giggling as she pulled my son away from me.
The dream left me feeling awful about myself. It didn't take a dream expert to analyze it, and it made me feel like the worst mother in the world. It wasn't like Skye had ever giggled like that or was even a mean person. I knew she wasn't. She was just a very good friend to Victor and one that had finally made him happy.
Why was I acting like this?
I laid still for a little while, willing the sensation that the dream had left me with away. While I lay there, staring into the darkness, I thought I heard something. It sounded like the pipes in my house. They were creaking and almost moaning.
It had to be freezing out. Usually, the pipes would be very noisy when they froze over. I just prayed they wouldn't crack.
