by Kim Golden
"You're quiet." She drew circles on my skin with the tip of her index finger.
"I'm glad you quit—you weren't happy there. But I'm worried too..."
"Don't be...Marius and Johan quit too, and they're starting their own agency." She inched her hand lower still until her fingers were stroking the length of my cock. "And I'm going to work with them."
"When does this start?" I tried not to moan or get too distracted, but it was proving difficult. "Maybe we should stop so we can focus..."
"I'm perfectly focused," she moved her hand slowly and smiled. "I thought you'd like this..."
"I do—that's the problem."
She kept her hand still long enough to say, "I think this could work—starting up an agency with Marius and Johan. They're so good at branding and we've got enough connections that we could make enough money to support ourselves."
I set my hand over hers to stop her from moving it again. I was so hard it hurt. Damn... "Don't...move...just let me concentrate."
"I have other ideas too..."
"Yeah, I'll bet you do."
"I meant for how I can support myself," she laughed. "I'm going to write Bobbi Fox stories and sell them myself."
"Liv will love you even more for it." I laced my fingers around Laney's. "I could help with the illustrations..."
"Maybe..." she caught my lower lip again and gave it a gentle tug. "Or maybe you'll be too busy at the workshop... I thought Ingrid might like to help. She's so good at watercolors and acrylics."
She shook my hand away and climbed on top of me, straddling me without breaking her gaze. "I don't want to talk anymore, Mads..."
I let her take charge...sometimes talking was overrated.
By the time Cecily arrived home with the kids, Laney and I were secretly relieved they were too tired to do more than eat dinner and sleep. We put them to bed without mentioning the possibility of their meeting their other grandfather. Laney didn't want to bring it up if it turned out that Lionel never called. I had the feeling he would, though; so did Cecily.
Laney filled her aunt in on her meeting with Lionel as we sat together on the back porch. The night sky was heavy and wet. I was pretty sure it would rain again. Over the treetops, pale flashes of lightning flickered. I was hoping Lionel wouldn't be a constant storm on our horizon. In a way, I wanted him to change. I wanted to believe that, like Benjamin, he'd make an effort for the sake of his granddaughters. But I was skeptical, and I was not willing to expose Liv and Freya to the horrible way he'd treated Laney.
"I've often wondered if Lionel was ready to make amends," Cecily said. "When he first moved here to Florida, he would sometimes come to visit and he'd ask about you."
Laney barely moved but her eyes widened. She hadn't expected that. Neither had I. We'd grown so used to life without Lionel. Our lives in Copenhagen kept us busy enough that it wasn't often Laney even mentioned him. But maybe she simply never mentioned him to me. She confided so often in Ingrid and Eddy, I knew they were the keepers of all her secrets. Maybe she'd even spoken to my father about her relationship with Lionel.
"Do you think we should let him meet Liv and Freya?" I asked Cecily.
"A part of me wants to say yes," Cecily sighed. "He's their grandfather, even if he isn't always the most wonderful person. But I also don't want to see those girls have their hearts broken by him."
"That's what I'm concerned about, too."
"Maybe he won't call at all," Laney said. "After that time in New York, he never called. He made a scene and then he left."
"The only thing we can do is wait and see." Cecily took Laney's hand in hers. "But the decision is yours in the end. If you aren't certain, then don't open that door any further."
But we didn't have to wait very long. The next morning, we woke to a voicemail message from Lionel, letting us know he was ready to meet our daughters and wondering if he could come to dinner.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Laney
Falling Into Place
I tried to stick to my normal schedule, but it was difficult. Having Mads here, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. We had so much lost time to make up for. But then I also wanted to continue with the Mommy and Baby yoga classes and my morning walks. I loved those moments with Freya, when she'd giggle as she tried to imitate the positions she saw me hold. And after each class, I felt as though my bond with my youngest daughter grew stronger and stronger. I looked forward to tucking her in at night or when she'd scoot over to me and climb into my lap. I knew these were things other parents took for granted, but it had taken so long for this bond to come.... I'd thought it would come as easy as it had with Liv. I'd fallen in love with her the moment I was first able to hold her. She was the sun, moon and stars... but with Freya, I'd felt empty. Only now did I feel that overwhelming love, and I hoped I could make it up to her somehow.
But for now I focused on trying to heave myself out of bed for a morning walk. Beside me, Mads slept, one arm thrown over my waist, the other clutching his pillow. He mumbled in his sleep and drew me closer. I didn't resist, though I knew I ought to get up. Instead, I nuzzled into him and closed my eyes again. I nearly fell asleep but then the bedroom door creaked open and a few seconds later Liv scrambled into the bed with us. She wriggled between us and then stuck her thumb in her mouth and drifted off again.
I pressed a kiss to her cheek. I didn't need to get up just yet. We could have a lazy morning... we had plenty of time for everything else.
When I woke again, I was alone in bed. I rolled over and hugged Mads's pillow. It still held his scent. Even when he hadn't been at the workshop for several days, the fresh, outdoorsy scent of wood resin clung to him. I breathed it in and exhaled slowly. Mads was doing breakfast duty with the girls. I could hear him trying to convince them to finish eating whatever he'd prepared. He'd probably tried to give Liv a Danish style breakfast— yoghurt with muesli and fruit, but she'd got used to having scrambled eggs and toast every day thanks to Aunt Cecily. Mads didn't lose his patience. He rarely did with Liv. I was the one who was more likely to yell if I couldn't take it anymore. But listening to how he humored her, how he tried to do Bobbi Fox's voice in an attempt to convince Liv that muesli was what foxes liked best, filled me with happiness. Mads was like the sun for me. I didn't want to go the sort of life I'd had with Niklas, so predictable, so structured and empty. I liked the chaos of our life; the only thing I wanted was for Mads to be more present. And I think he understood this now.
I stretched and finally found the energy to leave bed. In the kitchen, Freya was babbling to no one in particular, singing "mama, papa, baba, chacha..." As soon as she noticed me, she stretched out her arms to me and sang, "Mama yaya!"
I lifted her out of the highchair and gave her a noisy kiss, which she loved. My sweet little Freya—would my father love her as much as I did? Would he treasure Liv and her the way that Mads and I did? Mads was still talking to Liv, still making Bobbi Fox dance around the untouched bowl of muesli and yogurt. Liv was pointedly ignoring him and singing "What Does the Fox Say?" Mads tickled her chin, but—even though she giggled—she wouldn't be swayed. She wanted eggs.
"Fine," Mads surrendered. "I'll make eggs. But when we're home again you won't have eggs every day."
"Yes, I will," Liv retorted. "I am American girl too."
"You are," Mads agreed. "But you're also my little Liv, who is a Danish girl."
"Danish girls like eggs too."
"Liv...won't you eat the yogurt and muesli?" I sat down beside her, bouncing a giggling Freya on my knee. "We can have eggs tomorrow."
Liv wrinkled her nose as she considered this. "Will we have korv too?"
"Yes, we'll have sausages. And then we'll go to the beach, all of us."
"Okay!" And with that Liv began to eat her cereal while she balanced Bobbi Fox on her knees.
The relieved expression on Mads's handsome face was enough thanks. He scratched his head as he watched Liv gobble down the muesli. The rest of our breakfast
passed without stress. Liv was happy; Freya gurgled on my lap while I ate the plate of eggs and bacon Mads had prepared for me. Mads sat across from me, reading Danish news on his iPad while sipping his coffee. Liv slipped out her chair and went to him. He helped her into his lap and whispered to her. She nodded, giggling. When they both began singing "What Does the Fox Say?" Freya clapped her hands and tried to sing along. This was my family, and I loved them so much...how did I ever think I could live without this?
Lionel popped into my head, unwanted just then. I still needed to figure out to handle his coming over. Would he be good to my girls? Would he be gentle with them or would he be as acerbic and dismissive as he'd often been with me when I was a child? My mother had tried to shield me from the worst of it, but it still cut deep. The worst thing was understanding this and not being quite clever enough to realize that nothing I did was going to change how he felt about me.
"Laney?" Mads had stopped singing, though Liv was still singing. He watched me over the top of our daughter's head. "Are you okay?"
I nodded quickly. "Just thinking, that's all."
"Is it Lionel?"
"I was wondering if he'll love them like we do."
"No," Mads retorted. He set aside his iPad. "He can't possibly love them as we do. He'll have to figure out his own way."
Freya gurgled and slapped her palms on the tabletop. She and Liv laughed together, both of them thumping the table and serenading us with "papa-mama-papa." If Lionel couldn't figure out a way to love his granddaughters, then he didn't deserve any further chances to affect their lives.
* * *
I decided not to question Mads's sartorial choices for the girls. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to make sure Lionel understood we weren't making a huge effort here, that this was an ordinary evening and he just happened to be included in it. He was right. What was the point of getting Liv and Freya dressed up for a normal dinner? Any change in their routine and they'd sense that something wasn't quite right and were likely to go into tantrum mode. I wanted everything to be easy, at least when it came to the girls meeting their grandfather. I didn't want to worry about whether Liv managed to pour salsa sauce down the front of her linen romper or if Freya smashed strawberries on her pants. Mads had bathed them, brushed their hair as best he could and dressed them both in their favorite T-shirts and shorts.
"They're comfortable," Mads explained when he brought the girls outside, "and these outfits can go right in the washing machine in the morning."
"Who knew you were so practical?" I teased as I set the last place mat on my aunt's patio dining table. We'd been dining al fresco most nights since we arrived and figured the weather was fine enough for a barbecue. Cecily had already wheeled her sun umbrella out of the garage and opened it so its canopy would protect us from the late day sun. Most of the food was ready—I'd roasted some tomatoes, baked cornbread and made a pasta salad and a mixed green salad while Cecily marinated the fish and meat that we'd toss on the grill as soon as my father arrived. The only thing missing was dessert, which Mads and the girls were taking care of—they were on their way to the local bakery to pick up cupcakes and ice cream.
"I had to learn fast," he grinned and nodded at our daughters. "They run you ragged otherwise."
I couldn't help smiling. Now that he'd been here a few days, he understood how high energy two toddlers could be. He was used to only doing the fun things with them and having to deal with the everyday part of being a parent was giving him some perspective.
He managed to get Freya in the stroller and then he and the girls headed off on their dessert mission. Once they were gone, my aunt came back outside with two ice buckets and bottles of chilled sparkling water.
"Lionel just called," she said as she set the ice buckets on the table. "He'll be here in five minutes."
I let this sink in. He was actually coming. I'd mused that perhaps he wouldn't show up. I was used to that from my father. He didn't show up for my high school and college graduations despite my inviting him; he never called on birthdays or even acknowledged that I existed except for when he was suddenly reminded of his own mortality.
"Don't be nervous, kiddo." My aunt enveloped me in one of those hugs that reminded me of my mother. She kissed my cheek and patted my back. "I'm here, Mads will be back shortly. We're your champions. And if Lionel starts acting up, I'm sending his ass home."
"I just want him to love..."
"Honey, if he doesn't fall in love with those little girls the moment he lays eyes on them, then he doesn't deserve a place in their lives."
"I think I'll need a glass of wine to get through this," I joked. "Or maybe a bottle or two."
"I've got some rosé in the fridge," Cecily kissed my cheek one more time. "We may as well bring it out. Though I'm sure we'll need the stronger stuff by the end of the evening."
My father arrived just as Mads and the girls were returning from their dessert run. Lionel had just opened the garden gate when Liv saw him and said in a very loud voice, "Papa, who is that big man?"
Mads took it in stride. He shook Lionel's hand and then informed Liv that this was her other grandfather, Lionel.
My father's usual stony expression softened as he crouched down to greet Liv and Freya. "That's right. I'm your...how is it you say in Danish? Morfar? Your mother's father?"
Liv nodded, though she didn't go over to him. She'd slung her arm around Mads's leg and was leaning against him.
"Lionel, this is Liv..." Mads reached down and cupped Liv's shoulder. "And this little one is Freya."
I moved forward and greeted my father, but he was still regarding my daughters. Mads caught my eye and winked at me. Liv looked as though she were gearing up for a weird question. She was the master of those and when it came I couldn't help chuckling.
"Morfar, do you like foxes?"
"Foxes? I don't think I've ever met any." Lionel was still crouching at Liv and Freya's level. "Do you know any foxes I should meet?"
Liv nodded. "Bobbi Fox! She's my best friend. Do you want to meet her?"
"Is she a nice fox?"
"She's the best fox, morfar. She's friends with my farfar too." And then, as Lionel stood to his full height, Liv left Mads's side and grabbed her grandfather's hand. "Come, I'll show you Bobbi Fox."
And that was it. All the tension melted. I watched how my father let Liv lead him inside. Cecily trailed behind them while Mads and I took care of the grill. Freya watched with wide, curious eyes from her comfortable spot in the stroller.
By the time they returned, the fish and steaks were ready. I'd lit citronella candles to ward off any mosquitoes, and Liv...well, she had her morfar wrapped around her finger.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Mads
With Every Heartbeat
Over the next few days, Lionel came by often—to spend time with Liv and Freya, to make amends with Laney. Sometimes he made awkward conversation with me, but more often than not he concentrated on his granddaughters. I didn't take it personally. In some ways he was like my own father—stiff, distant...uncomfortable with emotions. And to him, I was just the foreign man his estranged daughter had married. He was never rude to me. But he didn't seem to know what to say to me, and honestly I wasn't quite sure what we could talk about other than my daughters and my wife. Laney tried to get him interested in my furniture making and design. She showed him the collective's website and the gallery of images from our finished projects, but Lionel only nodded and said, "Looks good."
His interest in Liv and Freya gave me hope. If he could be this attentive with our daughters, perhaps he could begin to open up more with Laney. Sometimes I eavesdropped on them while I checked my email. Lionel was trying. He stopped fighting Laney when she asked him about his marriage with her mother. Laney would get exasperated with him and walk away. I'd convince her to go back and hear him out. By the time she'd return to the garden to sit with him and listen, Liv had often commandeered her grandfather's attention and was making him laugh with her crazy da
nces and songs. And if Liv's songs didn't work, a giggle from Freya was enough to make Lionel melt a little more.
By Friday, I knew I needed to check in with the guys at the workshop. While Laney and Cecily took Liv to the beach, I took care of Freya—she'd got sunburned they day before and was cranky—and had a Skype call with Jonas and Anton. They'd just come back from Milan and were excited about the reception they'd received.
"The Italians loved the original designs from the Vesterbrogade Project." Jonas sounded as excited as a little kid with a new toy. "We made some good contacts here—another hotel is interested in our work."
"That's great news." I gave them the thumbs-up. "Is it an Italian hotel?"
Before Jonas could answer, Freya began to cry. I told him to hold on and went to fetch her. Her shoulders were still red from being out in the sun too long and the bridge of her nose was still an angry red. I'd have to put some after-sun cream and aloe vera gel on the burns soon. I was careful with her as I picked her up. Tears were still streaming down her face but she smiled for me and threw her chubby arms around my neck.
When I returned to my computer, Freya rested her head on my shoulder and sang softly to herself. Jonas continued to regale me with news from Milan. Then Anton took over and started filling me in on the latest with Benny. I groaned on hearing her name. "Is she still causing problems?"
"She tried, she thought we ought to pay her extra salary since we ended her contract early."
"What did Anoushka say?"
"She said that since it was an internship, the only thing we owed Benny was her last month's salary." Anton waved to Freya, but she was already falling asleep on my shoulder. "How's the little one?"
"Sunburned. Wouldn't stay still long enough for me to get any sunscreen on her."
"Poor Freya...everything okay there? With you and Laney?"