In Every Mirror She's Black
Page 25
“Look, don’t get me wrong, Kemi—we Swedes are way ahead of the world in terms of feminism, with dads pushing strollers, but that was why I quit my music career.” Tina took a bite of chicken. “I was done performing for society in every way.”
“Maybe you would have been Sweden’s own Beyoncé if you hadn’t quit?” Kemi asked. She saw Tina shift in her seat and knew she was broaching a sensitive topic. The silence was broken by Nancy’s laugh.
Tobias’s mother laughed and laughed before settling herself down.
“Kemi, my dear,” Nancy started. “You are the only one trying to be like Oprah where they don’t want you.”
BRITTANY-RAE
The von Lundin estate in Sandhamn, on the island of Sandön, was a sprawling beast even by modest Swedish wealth-flashing standards. A twelve-room rectangle of a manor that took up as much waterfront real estate as it could.
A month after Maya was born, the family had gathered for Midsummer at this communal retreat on the island—one of over thirty thousand islands, islets, and skerries—in Stockholm’s archipelago. Antonia’s family had arrived two days prior with their own housekeeper to stock up and start preparing for the rest of the guests, including Brittany’s parents.
Jonny had offered to fly them out to Sweden, but they had refused. They thanked him for the offer before digging into their meager savings and buying economy tickets to Stockholm. Jonny had already flown Tanesha in days before to spend time with Brittany, lift her spirits, and coo over Maya.
Brittany saw her parents gape as they took in her lavish digs in Elfvik. Her father had turned to give her a look she knew too well—one that wanted her to start explaining herself.
The next day, they were shuttled by boat from their private jetty to Sandhamn along with Sylvia—their housekeeper—and Maya’s au pair.
Now everyone was gathered around a large mahogany breakfast table with floor-to-ceiling views of the bay, digging into poached eggs on toast, smoked salmon and avocado with organic yogurt, fresh berries, and homemade granola. Everyone except Wilhelm and Astrid von Lundin.
“I hope you’ve been able to rest?” Antonia asked Brittany’s parents, passing a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice to her husband, Stig.
“Yes, thank you,” Tyrone said, before turning to his wife. “This is our first time in Scandinavia, and we hear summer is the best time to visit.”
“Yes,” Antonia said. “Especially during Midsummer. It’s such a special celebration for us Swedes.”
“I’ve heard,” he continued before cutting into his breakfast. Maya began to whimper, and Brittany adjusted her in her arms to breastfeed. The baby coiled tiny fingers around Brittany’s index finger, a move that blotted out everyone around them and wrapped mother and daughter in a cocoon of love. Brittany tugged lightly at her firm grip, her baby brightening her world.
“Maya is such a sweet addition to our family,” Antonia added. “I wish I had a girl of my own. I’ve always wanted one too.”
“Maya is our first grandchild, so you can imagine how blessed we feel,” Brittany’s mother said.
Brittany silently fed Maya beneath her feeding blanket, listening to the conversation. Her hair was pulled into a bun, her face makeup-free. Next to her was Tanesha, who kept shifting uncomfortably with each bite. Brittany turned to look at Jonny, who was quietly twirling a butter knife, entranced by its flipping.
Besides a bouquet of lilies from his parents to congratulate them on Maya’s arrival, Wilhelm and Astrid had maintained radio silence. Now that Brittany’s parents were in town, they sent a welcome message along with a note saying they were indisposed and unfortunately couldn’t be there to celebrate Midsummer with them.
A celebration Jonny had told her they hadn’t missed for as long as he could remember.
“So, your parents,” Tyrone started, clearing his throat. “What are their names again?”
“Wilhelm and Astrid,” Antonia replied icily.
“Wilhelm and Astrid,” Tyrone repeated with a slow nod. “And where are they again?”
“Unfortunately, they couldn’t make it, and they send their sincerest apologies.”
“Hmmm.” Tyrone let out air. “And are they in Sweden or out of the country?”
“They have a place in a village called Smögen on the west coast. Very lovely place by the sea.”
“Hmm,” Tyrone hummed again. “Do they have a number we can call?”
Brittany saw Antonia rapidly blink at his request before glancing toward Jonny, who was still cartwheeling the knife in his left hand. She needed to end the misery of the chilled exchange between Antonia and her parents.
“Dad,” Brittany jumped in, “they know where we are, and they should be the ones to call.” Her father studied her intently before nodding in acceptance. The conversation died once more. The silence was so uncomfortable for Tanesha that she sprang to her feet.
“Excuse me,” Tanesha said. “If it’s okay, I would love to go explore the grounds. This place is exquisite.”
Antonia nodded.
“I should join you, Tanesha.” Tyrone slowly pushed to his feet. “This old man needs to stretch his legs.” Tanesha waited and escorted him out of the breakfast room.
“You know, Brittany,” her mother started to say, “maybe we should go feed Maya in private. I need to catch up with you anyway and spend some time with that sweet little angel.” She got to her feet as well. “Brittany?”
“I’m coming right behind you, Mom.” Brittany motioned over to the au pair to come get Maya. “I need a quick word with Jonny.” Beatrice nodded and then trailed the au pair, who was now carrying and burping the baby as she went.
Left at the table were Jonny, Antonia, and Svea, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout. Antonia’s husband, Stig, promptly grabbed the jug of orange juice and retreated to the study.
The foursome sat in silence. Brittany broke it when Jonny tried to touch her. “I will not tolerate your parents disrespecting my parents this way!”
Jonny remained quiet.
“I completely understand, Brittany,” Antonia started. “But we don’t control Wilhelm and Astrid. They are adults and responsible for their own actions.”
“They are pretentious snobs. That’s what they are!” Brittany raised her voice. “From the moment they saw me, they judged me. I don’t expect them to like me, but I expect them to respect me. I am Jonny’s wife!”
“Brittany, you’re upset.”
“The hell I am! My parents flew all the way here, and they can’t even acknowledge their presence? How heartless and cold are they?”
“Brittany.” It was Svea jumping in this time. “Calm down. My parents aren’t heartless.”
“They have yet to prove me wrong!”
“Please give them time,” Svea pleaded. “I think the shock of finding out you were pregnant before marriage still hasn’t left them.”
“Really?” Brittany was frustrated. “Not the fact that their only son, their golden boy, is married to a Black woman and now has a brown kid?”
“They are not racist.” Antonia’s voice was terse. Brittany chuckled before getting to her feet. Jonny got to his as well and reached for her waist, trying to pull her into an embrace.
“Jonny, can you just stop?” Brittany was livid. “Don’t touch me. Just don’t. The doctor said no sex for six weeks, okay?”
She saw his cheeks warm up and flush red, his fingers balling into fists. She had embarrassed him in front of his sisters.
“Leave me alone!” she shrieked before storming away from the siblings.
Seventeen
MUNA
“Fy fan! You are pestilence, Muna Saheed!” Yagiz was furious. “Pure pestilence!”
She found him and his Turkish colleague cleaning up and getting ready to close early for the evenin
g. Yagiz was always angry whenever she came around, but this time, he seemed to have been having a bad day, with her appearance being the final trigger.
She had come to ask about Yasmiin again.
“Do you need a man to fuck you so you can leave me alone?” He was exasperated. “Should I find someone for you, eh?” Yagiz turned to his colleague. “Nusret? Do you want to do it?” The man shook his head nonchalantly as he kept wiping down the counter with a damp cloth.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Muna found her voice, and Yagiz sneered.
“Why are you here?”
She became quiet once more.
“Muna! Stop wasting my time!” Yagiz yelled. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“Have you seen Yasmiin?”
“So, Yasmiin is the only reason you’re here? Just Yasmiin?”
He peered down at her as if reading her innermost thoughts. Muna turned away shyly and shifted on her feet. Yagiz always made her uncomfortable. Right now, though, being in his presence was unbearable.
“I thought you cared about me too, Muna.” He laughed, elbowing Nusret, who was standing close by. Nusret dropped the damp cloth he was holding and padded off, uninterested.
“I care about Yasmiin. She is my sister.”
His gaze turned dark once more. “Don’t worry about Yasmiin.” His voice was threatening. “You, Muna…you need to go find a man to fuck away your own sorrow!”
Muna’s eyebrows furrowed at his harsh words. She glared at him, not blinking, and he matched her stare. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to give Yagiz any more power over her feelings.
“You are a nasty man!” Muna spat back at him, and she saw a look of surprise wash over his face. Then one of realization. Something within Yagiz snapped. As if he finally just figured out the best way to get rid of her forever.
“Give me your keycard,” Yagiz said, holding out his hand.
“What? Why?”
“Give me your fucking keycard!” he cursed. His words startled Muna, and she jumped. “Yasmiin begged me not to fire you. This is how you repay, hmm?!”
Yasmiin? Was Yasmiin still pleading on her behalf? That meant she was fine?
Muna began to search the depths of her tote bag. Once she found it, she handed it over. Yagiz snatched it with enough force to pull her forward with his jerking motion.
“Get out!”
As Muna rode the train home, she cried silently, constantly wiping any tear that dared break through. Her sporadic sniffs were the only clue she was emotionally processing her fresh unemployment. The train was quiet as usual. The creaking and bobbing of the train as it shredded down the tracks filled the otherwise noiseless air. People either buried themselves in their phones or looked past each other completely.
This was her least favorite part of the day, when she had to ride the train to and from work under the glare of curious passengers. She could feel eyes on her whenever her head was bent. Except they would avert themselves back into nothingness the instant she looked up at them.
Never smiling. Never acknowledging her presence.
BRITTANY-RAE
Midsummer hadn’t panned out the way they had planned. Though Antonia had organized an expensive spread of traditional Swedish food and activities to entertain Brittany’s parents, an archipelago storm descended upon Sandhamn with such fury that everyone remained holed up inside. Singing and dancing around the maypole were canceled. The storm mercilessly brought down their pole and destroyed its ring of wildflowers, as if spitting in their faces.
When Jonny had called Louise to inquire about Stockholm’s weather, she had beamed back in excitement. “Glorious!” Jonny and Brittany’s father barely exchanged full sentences, adding a layer of icy awkwardness to the day.
“Brit,” Tanesha said, sitting on Brittany and Jonny’s bed, staring at the raging storm outside that made the bright summer night uncharacteristically dark. “Girl, I don’t know.”
“It’s so hard.” Brittany was lying on the bed next to Tanesha, staring straight at the ceiling. “I have everything I could ever want, and I’m not sure I want it.”
“I would have lost my damn mind a long time ago,” Tanesha said.
“It’s the isolation that’s killing me, you know?” Brittany said. “But I can’t be friends with just anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Because of his family’s name and position. People are hungry for scandal and inside information. Jonny never talks to the press. People want access to his resources. Heck, his parents think I’m one of those people. I can’t trust anyone.”
“The bastards,” Tanesha muttered under her breath. “I can’t believe they haven’t seen that sweet baby yet.” Brittany closed her eyes as tears trickled down the side of her face, dampening the sheets.
“Am I ungrateful, Tanesha?”
“Girl, don’t play. Of course not.”
“He has given me so much. And yet, I feel so trapped.”
“But he loves you, right?”
“Yes, and he loves our Maya with everything in him,” Brittany added. “I mean, sometimes he makes me jealous. Maya is the one person he seems to love more than me.”
They spent a few more days in Sandhamn before their private boat ferried Brittany’s parents and Tanesha back into Stockholm for their return trip home. It had taken Jonny physically peeling Brittany off her father before she let him go. They eventually left, but not without Tyrone first requesting a moment alone with his daughter.
“I’m gonna miss you, Daddy,” she cried into his neck, shaking and turning into his little girl once more.
“I know, baby,” he whispered to her. “I don’t like this at all, and I’m going to get you out of it.” She pulled back to study his face.
“I love him.”
“His family disrespects you,” Tyrone whispered back angrily. “I can’t be at peace back in Atlanta when I know my baby is suffering in another man’s country.”
“Dad, he gives me everything I need. He takes care of me.”
“And yet his parents still can’t get past your skin color. Never forget that, baby.”
Brittany’s sobs became desperate, and Tyrone pulled her closer, fighting tears of his own.
“Privilege comes in levels, Brit,” he continued. “You have the privilege he has given you. But you will never have the privilege he has just because he breathes.” Brittany kept crying against his neck. Then he cradled her face between his palms, regarding her with glassy eyes.
“I know you’ve seen wealth beyond your dreams,” he said. “But he ain’t worth it. Never forget who you are, baby. Never forget.”
* * *
“Six weeks,” Jonny repeated calmly.
They had stayed behind in Sandhamn an extra week after Antonia’s family and Svea had left. Jonny wanted the privacy before they returned to Stockholm’s mad dash. He sat on the edge of their bed, legs apart, palms resting motionlessly on either leg. He watched her change for the night, following every stroke of her hands. The way they rubbed lotion down her long legs. The way they pulled her silk nightdress down over her head. The way they settled its thin straps in place.
Outside, another summer storm raged, pelting their windows with rain. The wind howled and occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the waters of the bay, dark, murky waves churning.
“Yup.” She took off her diamond stud earrings. They could get creative regarding sex, but Brittany didn’t want him touching her. She knew he was going to suggest workarounds. Brittany planned on staying adamant.
She caught him staring at her through her vanity mirror. He kept peering intensely through his reflection, his eyes dark and brooding in the low light of their room. Enough for Brittany to avert her gaze in discomfort. She wasn’t sure how her husband was going to survive six weeks of abstinence.
Her husband had a fetish.
KẸMI
“Hmm,” Kemi murmured against Tobias’s full lips. “That feels so good.”
He smiled against hers before nipping them again.
She had loved spending Midsummer with his family, and Saturday mornings in her new Nacka apartment were her favorites when they lounged in bed for hours before Tobias rolled out to make them pancakes. Tobias kissed her thoroughly, and she wrapped her arms around his broad back, pulling him closer, sinking them deeper into her soft mattress.
Those months with Tobias had moved like chili beans simmering in a Crock-Pot. Her love for him had grown as a slow burn. Comfort on low heat. He made her laugh and wasn’t demanding. He never commented on her hair unless she was fishing for compliments. He regularly baked her cinnamon buns and begged her to forgive them since she had exorcised them from her diet.
But that kernel of doubt Kehinde had planted in her months ago had been watered by her sister’s words: As long as you’re not leaving electricians in America to go find electricians in Sweden.
For Kemi, her sister’s words smacked of irony in hindsight. God’s time was right, but God’s electricians were not right for her. Tobias worked the night shift as a security guard. Her perfect Tobias suddenly didn’t seem so perfect anymore, and she started pulling at the seams of their exquisitely tailored relationship.
“What are you thinking about?” Tobias cut into her thoughts as they lay in bed that Saturday morning.
After a few moments of silence, she spoke up.
“Do you like your job, Tobias?”
“Why are you asking?”
“I don’t know.” Kemi shrugged. “I mean, don’t you want something more challenging?”
“I have a job I enjoy,” Tobias replied. “The benefits are great. I get five weeks of vacation. I have what I need.”
He turned, his eyes locking on hers. “I am content, Kemi. I don’t need to be an entrepreneur or CEO of someone else’s company to validate my worth.”