Meant For You

by Tomas, G. L.

  There were pieces from all over the world. Bhutan. Israel. Singapore. Canada. Ghana. All proof of places he’d visited. I nearly stopped to look at one but didn’t want to bring attention to myself. So, to say it caught me off guard would have been an understatement.

  Even though I’d been born in Spain, with branches that stemmed from the U.S., my roots had been planted long before I was born in Equatorial Guinea. Olli had always found it interesting how intersectional my culture, its mother language, and all the places I’d called home were. But most of all, he held a personal interest in my mother’s country of origin.

  I’d managed to get my hands on a book of stamps my mother kept around as old keepsakes and had her send them to me, hoping that despite being tight on cash, he’d appreciate the belated birthday gift. Olli almost cried. That was huge for him, considering he wasn’t one to show his emotions so openly. Later on, he admitted to feeling as if a gift catered to a personal interest he’d already had, in addition to it being a part of me, my culture, that it had been one of the best gifts I could have given him.

  “Come to the kitchen. I’m sure they’re waiting for you.” Olli spoke with an air of confidence that definitely hadn’t hinted at what he’d meant by it. He led me to a modern, sleek, minimalist kitchen, and it wasn’t until then that it all made sense. “I know you want one. Do not pretend as if you don’t,” he teased with a soft smile.

  It had taken me no less than one hundred failed attempts, but what stood before me on the table was no other than Omenalörtsy. I’d loved and devoured the stewed apple-filled pastry long before I could say the damn word. He remembered. It’d been so long ago, but Olli would prepare them every night so that I’d have what I referred to as the Finnish donut, even though it wasn’t like any American—or African pastry for that matter—that I’d ever had.

  “Well…if you insist,” As I wasn’t about to pretend I had the self-control to resist a single one. I went for the one with the most powdered sugar. Finnish desserts were modest in comparison, so I know if he’d had them prepared, he had me in mind when they were made. I took a bite and I swear I was seconds away from swallowing my tongue. The sweet taste brought back so many memories; it made me wonder why I’d left in the first place. It was enough to make my blood slightly warm. Why was everything trying to remind me to stay, knowing this trip was meant to be a one-time thing?

  Olli eyed me with the same stoic-like enjoyment he displayed in the past; he was expressive but not as much as I was used to living in the States, so I could tell by his almost smile that he got just as much pleasure remembering how much I’d liked them as I did actually eating them. It was stares like the one he gave me that got us into a lot of trouble in the first place. The look in his eyes forced me to keep mine in the opposite direction to avoid getting lost in them.

  The moment wouldn’t have lasted long even if I had. A woman I’d never seen before stalked into the room. Deep down, I knew who she was—I could’ve asked, but I don’t think I had to when the tall, leggy blond walked into the kitchen, without looking in my direction before she asked, “Is it done yet?”

  9

  Olli

  “What is wrong with you?” I asked Anna disapprovingly in Swedish. Having spent most of my primary education learning the language, in addition to the time I’ve been forced to spend in Stockholm based on business, the conversational Swedish I had acquired was never judged among peers and especially not Anna, given that my Swedish was better than her Finnish.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Anna’s tone tried but failed at hiding the venom behind each spoken and unspoken word to come. “What’s wrong with me is that she’s still here—”

  “What’s wrong with me is that you’re still here.” My response was a meager attempt at holding her accountable for her deplorable behavior. Benny was sitting right there. Surely Anna would have found it as equally rude if Benny decided to speak to me in the only mother tongue we both understand but respectfully wouldn’t have done such a thing. It was as if Anna had wanted things to be cold and awkward. Benny dropped everything to be here for our benefit. The least Anna could do was give the same respect she required.

  “I’m not going to let some foreigner make me feel like a burden in my own home.” She chuckled unpleasantly, wearing a fake smile to hide behind her native language used to speak maliciously about our guest. “Pastries. Accommodations. Why not just make her feel right at home and fuck her? You already defend more than you—”

  I’d held in my frustration until now, but Anna’s demeanor forced me to put my foot down. I grabbed both of her shoulders, trying my damnedest not to show the full extent of my anger. “I defend her because she is my wife! While she is here, if your plan is to be my next one, you will show her respect or leave.”

  Anna’s eyes narrowed resentfully, challenging my unwavering stance. Never in our four years together had I seen her be so spiteful and petty. I almost felt sorry for her. It would be a few hours before I realized how it must’ve sounded to say those things, but Benny was here. She’d agreed to sign the papers; what more did Anna want?

  I could sense the tension Benny felt through her mannerisms. She ate her pastry in uncomfortable silence as Anna stormed off, and I secretly assumed she’d hoped that conversation hadn’t been about her. I’m sure she was relieved she couldn’t understand us; at least she could feign ignorance that we argued about pre-wedding jitters. If she did, she would be wrong.

  The last thing I wanted to do was make Benny feel unwelcomed or regretful over her evanescent stay here, so I did all I could do is apologize for Anna’s behavior. “I’m sure you have your suspicions about what we were—”

  Benny wiped a smidge of powder from the corner of her heart-shaped lips. “It’s none of my business either way,” she interrupted. The moment was simple but made me see her warmth and kindness in the tiny gesture.

  “It’s just been…a rough couple of weeks,” I admitted. “Anna has not been herself, and I’ll own up to that. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be treating your presence like an inconvenience. I can assure you she’s angrier at me than this situation.”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Benny’s attempted to smooth things over. “Her feelings are valid. Maybe I wouldn’t go about it that way, but I’m sure I’d resent the person standing in her way of solidifying her future with you. You’re a great catch. She has every right to hate me being here.”

  I hated how empathetic Benny was, even to her detriment. She could easily put herself in the headspace of another to justify their behavior. I was convinced she could see the best in the worst of humanity, so it shouldn’t have surprised me she’d attempt to excuse Anna’s anger.

  Anna had a beautiful side, too. She wasn’t all bad and I definitely wouldn’t be marrying her if I hadn’t seen that part of her. But it was hard not admiring Benny’s heart in moments like this. She was probably making whoever she had back home extremely happy, and if she weren’t attached, any man would be lucky to have her. I know I’d felt lucky when she choose me.

  “Do you have them?” Benny stood, wearing a warm smile and fixed gaze. I almost didn’t know what she was referring to before I realized she wasn’t here on her own accord. The divorce papers had been in my study, but she was going to be here overnight, so I hadn’t felt it necessary to throw them in her face as soon as we saw each other. She gave me time to retrieve them, choosing to keep them together in a manila folder.

  I explained to her what she was signing as I directed her to each and every line she was required to sign. All twelve points in the legal document she signed without question, pushback, or a fight. Her main concerns only had to do with making my life easier, and I couldn’t help but think that she deserved more than she’d asked for. At the very least, more than this.

  Her having to drop everything to fly across the world, lose income, and then to have her turn down anything I’d offered to secure that her financial situation was as taken care of, just hadn
’t felt right. Not after the way Anna acted.

  Benny slid the last of the documents across the table, toward me, refusing my gaze or direction as I placed them back in the rightful place.

  “If you follow me, I can show you where you will be staying for the night so you can be well-rested before your flight tomorrow night.”

  10

  Benny

  With so many memories packed into one room, it was hard not to get a little nostalgic about the time I’d spent here when it was just a two-bedroom cottage. I was surprised I hadn’t recognized it, but it had been close to ten years and my memory only stored the most important these days. I wouldn’t have even known if Olli hadn’t brought it to my attention this wasn’t the first time I’d been at this location the new place stood.

  Sure, the floor plan was different and the property had expanded but in ways, this room reminded me so much of the nursery I’d dreamed of turning it into when I discovered I was pregnant. The cream walls had a cozy if not calming effect on me, and the little decorations of our time spent at El Rastro, a popular flea market in Madrid, made our tiny house a home. The spring we’d spent here after we got married, I begged Olli to let me decorate when it was just a small cottage.

  Now, he’d had the money to buy the land where our once tiny house stood, turning it into the manor it was today. But the colors, the furniture, and even the décor were still reminiscent of when this place was just ours.

  My alarm went off, startling but reminding me of the time I set to check in on Olivia. Even though I’d only been gone for less than a day it felt like I was gone for a whole week. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I knew that my mom and Olivia were bonding, but I didn’t want to risk the chance of calling at an inconvenient time because of the ten-hour time difference. Getting myself settled, I pulled up Olivia’s cell phone number and hit dial. Maybe it was a little spoiled for a seven-year-old to have a mobile, but in this era, there were so many things that worried me in regards to her safety. Kids today had to worry about a dozen things we didn’t worry about as children. I just liked being able to reach her at any time. Especially times like this when I was away.

  Instead of the standard phone call, I opted for video because I missed the sight of my baby’s face. Although we were reuniting in a day or two, I never got tired of seeing that adorable face.

  “Hello?” She picked up on the fifth ring, easing my frustration but with laughter I wasn’t quite expecting since the moment I left she went on about how she couldn’t go one day without me. With how happy she looked, it hadn’t even seemed like she missed me, which only made my miss the munchkin more. I had to say, though, I really loved the relationship she had with my mother. I only hoped that one day she could have that same closeness with her father.

  “Hey, Mami. Look what Abuelita helped me make?” She held up a poorly constructed sock-like mitten that made me laugh out loud since clearly, some steps had been skipped due to its questionable construction. My mom had learned to knit in the States and was somewhat an expert at it. Whatever she’d taught to Olivia had clearly gone over her head.

  “Well, isn’t that lovely,” I lied. “When are you going to make another one for your other hand?”

  Her round face met me with furrowed brows and a loveable smirk. “It’s not for me; it’s for you. And it’s not a glove. It’s a hat. See!” Her angelic smile shined as she put it over her thick head of loose curls. Well, I be damned. It was a hat. And here I was thinking it was a glove with the extra compartment she crafted that seemed more fit for a thumb. When I got back, the first thing I’d help her work on was her stitching.

  “Abuelita says you’re freezing you butt off in…umm where did you call it, Abuelita?”

  “Finlandia,” I heard my mom say in her heavy Equatoguinean accent off-screen.

  “Finlandia? Ohhh…Is that where The Little Mermaid lives?” she asked with an unmeasurable amount of joy. A vein of anger popped up out of nowhere, knowing that my mom had mentioned to Olivia the exact place I was traveling. It wasn’t as if it was a secret, but I wanted to be the one to tell her myself, should I get the chance to tell my ex about the daughter he fathered. The girl was smart, probably too smart for her own good, so I knew she’d be able to put two and two together about why I was here if I had been more vocal about her father’s Finnish background.

  Yes, my mother and I would have a later, more private, talk when Olivia was tucked away in the bed, but for now, at least she was having an easy time without me while I was away.

  “Te extrano, m’ija,” I cooed, trying not to tear up like a baby.

  “I miss you too, Mami. When are you coming back again?”

  It had occurred to me while Olivia had inherited my eye color; her eyes looked nearly identical to Olli’s. Whatever love I saw in his eyes, I saw in her eyes, and the thought of that made me hopeful that he would feel the same way about her if he only got a chance to know her.

  “Mami, I have to go. Abuelita’s making that caramel sauce I like to pour over ice cream. See you when you get back.” The call disconnected as the screen went idle. If there were ever a time I got over emotional, it was when I couldn’t tuck my daughter in at night. It wasn’t a question to whether I’d get a good night’s sleep in Olli and Anna’s queen-sized, luxury guest room bed but with Olivia fresh in my thoughts and considering that the time difference had totally thrown me off, I knew that a quick sleep was just not in the cards. It couldn’t hurt to check the kitchen to see if the house had its collection of sleep-inducing teas. Chamomile was my first choice, but even in desperate times a decaf black with a splash of lemon was quick to calm nerves. I couldn’t be picky; after all, I was a guest and not the lady of the house.

  Changing out of my traveling attire, I slipped into a casual sweater and a dark wash of skin-tight jeggings that fit seamlessly under the thick knitted socks I pulled up to my lower calves. Although the heat was turned all the way up, the floors had a tendency to feel chilly and quickly spread to other body parts when you weren’t wearing something on your feet. As I ventured the layout of this beautiful home, I couldn’t help but feel a tad resentful that I couldn’t give Olivia this sort of worriless life. Chances were, to be able to, I would have to find a job more catered to my degree and move us to an entirely new city.

  Part of the reason I liked being a ski instructor was because the job was flexible and it gave me the time and freedom to both work and be there for Olivia when she needed me. If I took a job teaching at a private school, I knew most likely I’d have to schedule time to see my own daughter, and I couldn’t see putting other kids above my own.

  I believed that all would work out if I kept my head on straight and didn’t give in to worrying, but I would likely have to take Olivia away from all her friends and transfer her to public school if I wanted a way to successfully fall back on my feet in the meantime.

  From outside one of the kitchen windows, I could see the storm beginning to fall in heavy blankets of white snow, thankful that I could barely feel the weather worsening with the fine design of Finnish insulation and heating. Despite its inconvenience, there wasn’t a winter more breathtaking to look at than a snowy Finnish background. It looked right out of a page of a Christmas story. It almost had me tempted to break out my holiday playlist. I would have loved for Olivia to see a winter this grand. For a girl who loved the snow, she would have been completely taken by this scenery. I could already picture her taking it upon herself to build the world’s biggest snowman or to show her father what a great skier she was.

  I ran into some luck when I opened one of the kitchen’s many cabinets and stumbled upon a wide collection worth of teas. Sleep would be within my or, at least, I thought it would be. The second I turned around to turn on the stove’s burner, Olli’s fiancé, Anna appeared from what seemed out of nowhere. I mean, it was possible to be friends with your ex-husband’s new wife, right? For my sake, I hoped it was since when I finally found the courage to tell Olli about Olivia, Anna would be pa
rt of his packaged deal and for the sake of daughter, I hoped we would get along.

  The moment she opened her mouth, though, it became pretty clear to me that was going to be more than just a wish on my behalf; it was going to be a challenge.

  “I have my assumptions about you but please tell me. What game are you playing? Because Olli sees you as the patron saint of wives, and I don’t see what’s so special about you besides that you’re clearly a pushover. He says you didn’t ask for anything. What I want to know is why not?”

  At this point, Olli’s fiancée was just getting on my nerves. It was bad enough the moment I arrived she’d made it clear she wasn’t happy with me being here but now, I couldn’t even turn down his money without her feeling like it was some strategic plan to make Olli change essential aspects of his current life just because I was back in the picture. What about me leaving the picture was so hard to comprehend? What part of me being gone by Sunday did she not understand?

  After the weekend, I’d no longer be her problem, and she could have the outlandish wedding and honeymoon Olli and I never had. I didn’t even need for him to give me the wedding most women dreamed about. Every day, for months, he’d managed to make me feel like royalty and although he didn’t have the money he appeared to have now, he never failed to support or take care of me in the ways I’d felt necessary at the time. She was getting everything she wanted, and me? Well, I was leaving with less than I came with in that. She, on the otherhand would have my former husband. Did she not see that the real winner was her in this scenario? She had the perfect looks, the perfect life, and the minute I signed those papers, she’d have the perfect man all to herself for the rest of her life. Comparing our situations, I had nothing except a broken heart from setting the love of my life free so that he could be happy.