Maybe Forever (Maybe... Book 3)

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Maybe Forever (Maybe... Book 3) Page 17

by Kim Golden


  "Better...I think we're back on track." I gently patted Freya's back. "We've been talking everything through, spending time together and taking care of the kids together."

  "You think you'll be home soon?"

  "I'm not sure," I admitted. I wanted to get back to work, but I also needed more time away, enjoying my family and not being distracted by the weight of so many professional commitments. "Laney and I, we need a bit more time."

  "No worries, we'll keep everything going here. Jonas, Morten and I are all in your corner, you know. We know you're happier with Laney than you'd ever be without her."

  "Thanks, it's good to know you guys have got my back."

  "By the way, Ole and the Vesterbrogade group seem to like the latest revisions." Anton glanced over his shoulder. "Actually, when they heard the Italians were crazy about the original designs, they started talking about going back to it."

  I laughed. Of course they wanted it again. All it took was someone else wanting it more.

  Once Anton and I rang off, I took Freya into the bathroom and cooled off her skin with a cold compress. The aloe vera gel came next. Freya whimpered at first but as the gel soothed away the heat she settled down and a tiny smile emerged again. I hated seeing her like this. How did Laney deal with this all the time? All I knew was I wanted to make everything better for my little girl.

  She was growing so fast—just yesterday she'd managed to pull herself up on her own and balance for a few moments. Laney and I had watched, mesmerized, as our youngest daughter planted her hands onto the sofa cushion to brace herself and try to stand. In a few days she would be eight months old. Would she be an early bloomer and begin walking before she was even ten months old? Or would she be more like Liv, who'd taken her time about walking and explored every inch of the apartment crawling or scooting, only to take us by surprise on her first birthday by standing and taking off almost immediately in a wobbly run.

  After a sleepless night thanks to her sunburn, Freya was more subdued than usual, which was understandable. Hell, I was pretty exhausted too. If anything I wanted to take a nap and I'd barely been out of bed for more two or three hours. Picking up Freya again, I asked her, "What do you think, lille ven? Shall we take a nap?"

  My daughter yawned, her sleepy green eyes struggling to remain open. We retraced the path to the bedroom Laney and I had been sharing. The bedroom faced the back garden and was shaded by most of the morning sun thanks to the lush canopy of a marbleberry tree. It cast swaying shadows on the wall as a breeze caught its branches. Freya and I watched the shadows dance. She giggled and pointed at the tree. I kept my arm protectively around her as I began to drift off. It wasn't long until even Freya settled down and her tiny sighs let me know she'd fallen asleep.

  The air conditioner's hum formed a cloud of white noise that lulled me even deeper into sleep. Freya planted her thumb in her mouth. I wondered if she was dreaming of penguins. Don't grow up too quickly, I thought as my eyelids grew heavy. Stay my baby girl for just a little while longer.

  * * *

  Freya and I spent the rest of the morning napping, which probably wasn't very smart, but we needed it. When she finally woke up, she was happier and in a playful mood. I took her outside but made sure she was in the shade. Her unruly curls spiraled in every direction as she played with her DuPlo blocks. I'd spread a blanket on the grass and made a sunshade by stringing up another blanket between two trees. While she played, I lay on the blanket beside her and finished reading the novel Laney had given me. It wasn't often that Freya and I had so much time alone together. I set aside the book. I couldn't concentrate anyway, so I sat up and helped her build, loving how her eyes lit up with delight as she handed me blocks and I stacked them beside the wobbly towers she'd already constructed.

  We were so lost in our own little world, we didn't hear my phone ringing. I grabbed it just before it transferred the caller to my voicemail.

  My father's voice startled me. "When can you come home, son?"

  "What's wrong? Is it farmor?" Freya abandoned her blocks as soon as she heard "farmor.”

  "She's had a stroke." Benjamin's voice shook as he spoke. "The doctors say she'll recover, but she is asking for you and for Laney."

  My heart was beating so hard I felt like I couldn't breathe. "I'll come. Of course I'll come."

  "Good, I'll tell her. I'm on my way back to the hospital. Henrik and Edwina are with her now," he added. "Will Laney come as well?"

  "Yes, I think so. She loves farmor, she'll want to see her."

  "So it's better between you?"

  "It is. It's much better. I think we found each other again."

  "Good, good. Your farmor will be pleased."

  "Was she alone when it happened?"

  "No, Edwina was with her, helping her in the garden. She made sure Alma made it to the hospital quickly. She's a smart cookie."

  Freya chanted "farma" at me. I ruffled her hair as my father and I ended our call. I had to go back. I needed to see with my own eyes that my grandmother was okay. As silly as it sounded, I'd never thought much about the possibility of a life that didn't include my grandmother. I knew she was getting older, that her memory wasn't as good as it had been. One day my grandmother wouldn't be around. I was just glad that day wasn't today.

  "Of course we're going home," Laney said as soon as I told her the news. "Alma needs us."

  While she packed, I called the airlines and arranged our flight home. It wasn't the way I wanted us to go home together, but we couldn't always control these things. Cecily kept the girls occupied for us while we arranged everything. Henrik called at one point to let me know he could pick us up from the airport. I gave him our flight details. Tomorrow afternoon, we'd be on our way back to Denmark. And after we checked on my grandmother and made sure she was okay, we could start the next stage of our lives together.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: Laney

  Home

  "Morfar!"

  Mads and I were jolted out of our much-needed sleep by Liv's excited shrieks. We'd been up most of the night discussing whether it was time for Alma to move to an assisted living complex. Neither of us wanted her to be own her own anymore, but we also didn't want her to have to leave her home. We still hadn't really come to any decision by the time we fell asleep.

  "Mommy, Mommy! Morfar is here! Come!" It wasn't long until Liv was at our door, issuing commands.

  "I'm coming, sweetie. Tell morfar I'll be there in five minutes..."

  A bleary-eyed Mads rolled onto his side. He yawned and reached for me. "Do we have to get up?"

  I nodded. "He probably wants to say goodbye since we're leaving today."

  While Mads struggled out of bed, I went into the bathroom and tried to make myself as presentable as possible. I managed to tame my hair into submission and then change from my pajamas into a pair of shorts and a polo shirt. My father was already in the garden with Cecily and the girls. He and Liv were watering the flower beds while my aunt pruned her clematis and passion flowers.

  I greeted my father with a wave and said, "You're here early."

  "I wanted to spend time with my grandbabies before they head back across the ocean." Lionel replied as he held the hose steady for Liv. She squealed with delight when a bumblebee hovered over the stream of water. "And I wanted to make sure we had a chance to say goodbye."

  "Lionel, you make it sound like you won't see the child again," Cecily chided as she snipped off another dead flower head. "She'll be back, won't you, Laney?"

  "Absolutely," I said. "Later this year. We need to make sure everything is okay with Mads's grandmother, get her situated once she's home from the hospital."

  Freya was pushing herself up in what looked like one of the yoga positions we'd practiced. I watched her plant her feet on the grass and slowly, wobbly raise herself upwards. She stretched her arms out towards me. I held mine open and waited, practically holding my breath. Lionel set down the water hose aside and smiled as he, too, watched Freya trying to find h
er balance. She was only eight months old—wasn't this too early for her to start trying to walk? But I'd seen how she watched Liv running back and forth...of course she wanted to keep up with her older sister. Liv clapped her hands and ran to Freya's side. She took Freya's hand and spoke to her little sister as she tried to balance. Freya tottered a bit but found her balance again. Behind me, Mads came out on the porch. I heard his sharp intake of breath as we all watched and waited to see what Freya would do next. She took one uncertain step forward, planted her foot in the grass and wobbled again, landed on her rump and giggled.

  "Come, Freya," Liv insisted as she helped her little sister stand. "We are going to walk!"

  "Don't rush her," Lionel said. "Baby girl's got to find her way."

  "If she walks, she is a big girl then," Liv said. "And then we can play."

  Freya stood to her feet again with Liv's help. She swayed, then seemed to find her balance. She took one step, waited and giggled. Then she took another. She landed on her rump again.

  "They grow up so fast." Lionel scooped up Freya and kissed the top of her head. Mads and I reached for one another's hands. His fingers slid between mine. Our daughters laughed together and sang for their grandfather.

  I hoped this peace we'd found would not evaporate when we returned to Copenhagen. Mads leaned in and kissed my neck, his lips skimming my skin and setting off tiny sparks throughout my body. We sat like this for a long while, the sound of our daughters’ laughter filling our ears, my aunt's gentle teasing of my father making me smile.

  We were surrounded by love. And this was how I'd always wanted my life to be.

  A YEAR LATER: Laney

  At the Beach

  It was hard to imagine that this time last year was so awful for us. Mads and I had weathered a storm I'd initially thought we'd never survive. But now we were back in Florida, celebrating our fifth anniversary with our daughters. We'd exchanged houses with my aunt—she was in Copenhagen visiting Eddy and Henrik and spending the summer with her twin grandbabies.

  Coming back felt right—we'd mended our marriage here. Freya and I forged our bond here.

  Today, though, we focused on spending a relaxing day at the beach. We'd invited Rebecca and her daughters to join us. Peyton and Lorelei were building a sandcastle with Liv. Under our sun shades, Rebecca and I pondered whether we'd dare to take a dip. Mads was already in the water with Freya, hopping around and laughing with her. I shaded my eyes with my hand and watched as they frolicked. My husband was golden brown from so many hours spent in the sun, taking our daughters to the playground, working in the garden at his grandmother's house which she'd deeded to us now that she'd moved into a nursing home nearby. I watched him and felt my love for him swelling inside me, quickening and taking hold, reminding me that I was adored, that I adored him.

  "You two made it through," Rebecca said with a grin.

  "We did," I agreed. "I'm glad we did...I never wanted to consider how it would be live a life without him."

  "You've renewed my faith in love." Rebecca dug her toes in the sand. "In fact, I've got a date tonight."

  "Tell all! Who's the lucky guy?"

  "Wilson, the new guy who comes to Baby & Me yoga classes. Well, he's a single parent too. We started chatting a few weeks ago... and he asked me out yesterday."

  "Morning walk tomorrow for a post-date review?" I asked. Mads and Freya were just emerging from the water now and heading toward us. "Or...should we plan for the afternoon?"

  "Morning is good. I'm taking this slowly." Rebecca reached for our communal bottle of sunscreen. She called for our daughters to come and get another layer of it. "I rushed before, and I don't want to make that mistake again."

  Peyton came over and claimed the sunscreen bottle. "I'll make sure Lorelei and Liv put some on," she said.

  "Thanks, Peyton." Once she returned to the younger girls, I said to Rebecca, "I have some news I'm going to give Mads tonight."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm pregnant again..."

  Rebecca gasped. "I'm so happy for you!"

  I smiled at her. "We always said we wanted to have three or four kids... and, well, things have been so good between us."

  "I can tell. I see how he watches you when you're not paying attention," Rebecca said.

  Mads and Freya stopped by the burgeoning sandcastle. He made sure the girls applied enough sunscreen and reapplied it for Freya and then for himself. He laughed at something Peyton said then strode over to us. Grains of sand flecked his tanned skin.

  "Do you think you'll come back next summer?"

  I nodded. "I think so. I think we'll be back every summer."

  Get a sneak peek at the first chapter of Maybe Tomorrow,

  coming July 2015.

  CHAPTER ONE: EDDY

  The End

  It ended just as quickly as it began.

  He came home and said he didn't love me anymore, didn't think we had any future, not together. And as the words rushed out of his mouth, I stood very still, my arms folded across my chest, and waited for the truth to finally come.

  I knew my lips had pulled into a thin, grim line. I was biting in the words I wanted to spit out at him. "Who have you fucked this time?" or "Can't you keep your cock in your pants?" but I held back and focused on the splotch of red wine on his shirt and told myself this was okay. I didn't need him to feel complete. I don't think I'd ever felt complete with him. He was just a boy pretending to be a man. A beautiful boy, but a boy all the same.

  "Say something, Eddy." Andreas was nervous. He kept standing, pacing, and then throwing himself back into the same armchair. Under the tan his cheeks and neck burned red.

  "What exactly do you want me to say?"

  "You must have something you want to say. I just told you I don't love you anymore."

  "Fine, I think we should sell the apartment."

  "What?"

  "Actually, it was mostly my money that went into this apartment," I surmised. "My down payment of...half a million kronor was it? I was the one who sold her apartment so we could move in together."

  "You want to talk money?"

  "Well, we're splitting up, aren't we?" I sank into the armchair opposite his and crossed my legs. I kept my voice even and light. "Since you don't love me and we have no future, why should we still share this apartment?"

  "We bought it together-"

  "How much money did you bring to the table?"

  Andreas licked his lips and shrugged. He mumbled an "I don't know" but wouldn't make eye contact with me. We both knew the truth.

  "I hope your new girlfriend has a place you can move into."

  "What makes you think there is someone else?"

  "With you, there's always someone else. I recognize the pattern, sweetie."

  It never changed with him. We'd had a good run

  these last few months but I'd sensed he would get restless again. And this time I wasn't ready to forgive and forget.

  "Eddy, we can't just..."

  "Yes, actually, we can. You remember the last time you cheated on me? You said you would move out if it happened again."

  "But, Eddy, be realistic."

  "I am being realistic. And that's exactly what I want you to do. Move. And we'll sell this place. You put thirty percent into it, and that's exactly what you'll get."

  He shook his head and then launched out of the chair and stormed out of the room.

  The knot in my stomach unraveled slowly. But the bitter taste of another failed relationship...that took even longer to disappear.

  When he left, the apartment seemed to breathe out a long sigh of relief, as if it had been waiting for this very moment. In a few days it would be Midsummer and the evening sky was still full of light.

  I wandered through every room, making sure he'd taken everything that was his. I didn't want to wake to another day of being reminded that Andreas and I had shared this apartment.

  I kept telling myself I was okay with this, and I was. I didn't want to
have to grin and bear it again. But there was that nagging little voice that I could just barely hear over the super positive "I am a strong, independent woman" mantra on repeat in my mind—that naggy, snarky little bitch who reveled in reminding me, "This is the third time you're the one left alone."

  "Shut up, bitch.." I muttered.

  "Sorry?"

  I'd forgotten about the real estate agent, who was also going from room to room casting an eye on all the renovations we'd done as she calculated the apartment's market value. She flashed a tight little smile at me. It was almost as tight as the skirt and blouse she wore.

  "I'm just talking to myself," I assured her and then reached for my vibrating iPhone.

  Another call from Andreas. I pressed reject and set my phone back on the windowsill.

  "Well, your apartment will definitely be a hot commodity," she said. "An apartment this size and in this neighborhood...it'll fetch a pretty penny."

  I nodded. I already knew this. It was one of the reasons I'd convinced Andreas that we should move to this part of Kungsholmen. From the living room and dining room, there was a perfect view of Norr Mälarstrand and the glittering waters of Lake Mälaren. We had a balcony that stretched the entire length of the apartment and, with all of the plants and flowers in bloom it would look inviting enough that even the most jaded Stockholmer would want to live here.

  "How much do you think it's worth?"

  "We're looking at...eight million kronor at least, and that's before the bidding would start."

  "So we should start with an asking price of eight million?"

  "At least." Her blonde head bobbed up and down excitedly. "Five rooms...a king's balcony, two walking closets..."

  "Walk-in closets," I corrected.

  "Sorry?"

  "They're not called walking closets. The closets don't have legs. They can't go anywhere."

 

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