by Kim Golden
“I know, but…”
“Sooner or later you have to decide what you want. Who you want. Him…or me.”
* * *
“Have you made up your mind?” Ida demanded as soon as the others had gone to the bar for refills. They were having lunch with Adam and his girlfriend Trine at Mikkeller & Friends, a microbrewery bar in Nørrebrø. The wan morning fog had given way to a deceptively warm day—the sort of weather Laney had called “Indian summer” but in Danish they called it brittsommar. They were sitting outside, letting the sunlight bathe them in its warmth.
Mads rapped his knuckles on the tabletop and shook his head. “You never give up, do you?”
“I need to tell the clinic in Toronto if we can help them.”
“Why me?”
“They requested you.”
“Did they really? Or did you do like you always do and convince them I’m the best?”
“I’m not going to lie to them. You’re popular.”
“Yeah, because you keep telling people to pick me.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore, Ida. I told you that. So just drop it. I’m inactive.”
“Who’s inactive?” Trine asked as she returned with a pint of cider for herself and beer for Ida. “Or is this more clinic talk?”
“It’s clinic talk and it’s over now,” Mads said, leveling both Trine and Ida with a fierce look. “I’m tired of talking about it.”
“Mads has got a girlfriend he’s hiding from us,” Ida quipped to Trine. “It’s all very mysterious.”
“It’s called having a private life.” He finished off the last of his beer and held in a smirk. “I met someone. I want to see where it goes before I start introducing her to everyone. It’s as simple as that.”
Trine didn’t give up as easily as Ida. “Why haven’t I heard about her? Adam tells me everything!”
“Maybe because I told him that it was private?”
“What’s private?” Adam set down two pints of lager on the dusty tabletop and then nudged one towards Mads. “What did I miss?”
“Ida and Trine being nosy.” Mads grumbled.
“‘C’mon, leave Mads be. He doesn’t need you two has-sling him.”
“But you know about this new girl he’s seeing?” Trine insisted.
“It’s early days,” Adam cautioned. “Just leave him alone.”
“Then you know more than you’re letting on! I’ll get it out of you later.”
Mads didn’t say another word. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he didn’t extract it. If he pulled it out, Trine would try to see what the message said and neither she nor Ida would leave him alone. But Adam was right. It was still early days. He didn’t know where he stood with Laney, even if she was the only thing he could think about.
7
SECRETLY
What is she doing here?
Mads stumbled over his words and he tried to focus on answering Anton’s question. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be at a fancy restaurant like NOMA or Grønbech & Churchill. But now she was rushing forward, looking as stunned as he felt and introducing herself. Instead, she was shaking his hand and saying, “Nice to meet you.” Like they’d never kissed. Like they didn’t already know each other so intimately…
He swallowed hard. And Niklas…hovering in the doorway between the living room and the hall, smug, watching over their introductions like some proud father rather than someone who loved his girlfriend.
Laney’s thumb stroked his just before she eased her hand from his grip. She smiled nervously, then fidgeted with her necklace. Her blouse was unbuttoned enough to reveal a vee of her brown skin and the shadow of her breasts. Last night he’d held those breasts in his hands, grazing his thumbs along her nipples until she’d begged him to suck them, bite them. He glanced away. Christ, they were in dangerous territory, being here together with their secret crackling and sparking between them.
Mads was glad when Ingrid ushered them into the dining room. At least it gave him something to focus on other than Laney. But he could still sense her, walking behind him, hear each sigh or gentle intake of breath. And when her fingers brushed his as she passed him, he had to stop himself from smiling, from saying her name and letting slip how much he wanted her.
The jolt of seeing her now shot through him.
She sat directly across from him. There was no way he could avoid looking at her and he didn’t want to. He willed himself not to react as Niklas leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. But he noticed how she turned her head away from him, how she adjusted ever so slightly so Niklas could not claim her completely. Mads reached under the table, found her bare leg and left his fingers drift along her lower thigh and the sweet dip of the back of her knee. And the way her lips parted as though words just for him were perched on their full curve before she sucked in her lower lip and bit gently down. And through it all Niklas blathered on, so full of himself, so completely unaware of what was happening right in front of him.
Niklas didn’t deserve her.
“How did you two meet?”
Laney shot Mads a warning look but he ignored it. He was loose from all the wine they’d drunk. How many times had Anton refilled his glass? Fucking hell, soon he was going to need to go outside and get some fresh air. The dining room felt too close, too humid. Did he imagine the concerned look that Ingrid and Laney exchanged?
Fuck, he didn’t care anymore. This smug bastard sitting there talking about Laney like she was nothing more than a bit of fluff.
Niklas laughed and started into bragging about how he’d hit on Laney, how he’d fed her a line about recognizing her from someplace else. Laney corrected Niklas but the tight expression on her face revealed how her boyfriend’s cavalier attitude humiliated her. And when Niklas laughed and said, ” I thought she looked like a girl who knew how to have a good time, if you know what I mean…” Mads saw how the color drained from Laney’s face, how she kept her eyes cast down and her hands trembled.
When she spoke, her voice was thick with anger and cynicism. “That’s all I am. A good time girl.”
Mads wished she’d look at him but she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her wine glass.
* * *
Later, when Anton rolled two joints and suggested going out in the garden, Mads followed and hoped Niklas would stay inside, but he joined them, still trying to be jovial and chummy but the damage was already done. Any doubt he’d had about pursuing Laney had dissipated. He could almost see why Laney had fallen for Niklas. He was good-looking–more Gallic than Swedish, he knew from what Laney had already told him, but the arrogance, the casual way he treated her, like an afterthought…she was like a nice little toy for Niklas to play with when there was nothing else better to do.
“She’s gone broody on me,” Niklas snorted. “Never thought that would happen. Not in a million years.”
“You two have been together so long,” Anton was more pragmatic. Of course he was. He had three daughters already. Mads had met them the last time Anton had invited him over. “It’s only natural.”
Mads stayed silent but he noticed how Niklas smirked, how he shrugged as though none of this meant anything to him. “You know Laney, Anton. In a few months, she’ll be asking me for a dog.”
“What if she really wants a baby?”
The words slipped out before Mads could stop himself. He’d glanced over his shoulder, and caught sight of Laney and Ingrid at the other end of the garden. She was so far away but he sensed the tension twisting inside her. For a split second their eyes met. Long enough for him to wish he could abandon Niklas and Anton, and take Laney by the hand and run off. Anywhere. It didn’t matter. As long as it was just the two of them.
“She doesn’t really want a baby.” Niklas took another drag from the joint. He scowled and then exhaled and tried to stifle a cough. “She never knows what she wants. That’s just how Laney is.”
“Do
esn’t sound like the Laney I know,” Anton said. “She’s not as flakey as you make her out to be. You always forget I knew her before you. She knows what she wants…she just doesn’t always express it.”
“Trust me on this one. She doesn’t really want a baby.”
“What does she want then?” Mads folded his arms. He had to do something to keep from shoving Niklas. The man was an ass. How could he even joke about Laney like this if he loved her? He sounded like he was talking about a petulant child, not a woman who meant something to him.
“The therapist in me says she wants to recreate the family she wishes she’d had.” Niklas shrugged. “As the man she lives with, I have the feeling she’s simply bored.”
“If she were my girlfriend, I’d take her wants seriously…”
For a moment no one spoke. Niklas cleared his throat and stared off in the distance. Ingrid and Laney’s voices drifted towards them and Mads thought he heard his name.
“It’s good she’s not your girlfriend then” was Niklas’s reply. His tone was measured, cool. But the amused expression on his face betrayed how clueless he was. He didn’t get it. He thought he was in control. He didn’t know just how close he was to losing Laney.
Mads glanced at Anton, then muttered, “It’s getting chilly. I’m going back inside.”
He brushed past Niklas, his shoulder slamming into the other man. He muttered a quick “sorry” but he didn’t care if it fell on deaf ears.
After he’d kissed her by the gate and strode in the velvety darkness to the train station, Mads told himself he didn’t need this hassle. What was he thinking? Getting involved with a woman who had so much emotional baggage? But when he thought of those moments they’d shared, when it was just the two of them and she was so open, so unguarded… he was certain she was never so vulnerable with Niklas. The Laney he’d seen tonight was so brittle and fragile. And Niklas was too careless for someone like her.
On the train he reminded himself of the secrets she’d already shared with him, of how he’d comforted her when she cried in her sleep. He tried to imagine Niklas doing that but it didn’t feel plausible. Was Laney his little social experiment? Hell, he’d met men like Niklas before. The ones who collected beautiful women, who were still hung up on someone else but needed someone to stroke their egos.
By the time he arrived at his stop, he’d already figured it out–giving up wasn’t an option. Even if it meant someone got hurt along the way. He had the feeling it wouldn’t be him.
“I didn’t know you knew Anton.” she was whispering into the phone. The acoustics were all wrong.
“I guess there are a lot of things we don’t know about one another,” Mads retorted. He was at Mikkeller & Friends again, nursing a pint of beer and waiting for Adam and hoping his friend would come alone. “Where are you?”
“In the hallway…I miss you already.”
“I miss you too.”
“Will you come? To Stockholm, I mean?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“I do…”
“Okay…” But he was having a hard time figuring out how this would work. How would she explain her absences? Or was Niklas so self-involved that he didn’t notice her comings and goings? Perhaps he was. “Laney?”
“Yes?”
“It can’t always be like this.”
“I know. It won’t. I promise. I need to figure out the right way to do this…to leave him.”
“Does he even love you?”
For a long time she didn’t say anything. He could hear her breathing. He imagined her standing there in the hallway, biting her lip, listening for Niklas. When she finally said “no” he nearly missed it.
8
QUESTIONS ANSWERED
How many of my donations have led to successful pregnancies?”
Ida coughed and sputtered. “Where is all of this coming from?”
They were in her office, the pile of forms he needed to sign to go inactive forming a daunting pile on her desk. It was midday, but the wan sunlight made it feel like it was still morning.
Mads shrugged. “I’m just curious. I figured you must have records of this. You keep telling me how popular I am. So…how many has it been? And how many are here in Denmark?”
“I can’t give you that information.”
“Why not?”
“It’s private, Mads. You know the people who come to us value their privacy.” Ida’s shoulders tensed.
“It’s not very private when you advertise the mingles in Metro and the morning papers.”
Ida’s brows furrowed. She wouldn’t meet Mads’s glare, only kept typing furiously on her keyboard. “Why are you being so difficult?”
“You told me if I ever wanted to know this information, all I had to do was ask. Well, now I’m asking.”
“We haven’t used you so often in Denmark.”
“Why?”
“It would be problematic. Your look is too popular here.”
“My look?”
“Don’t play coy, Mads. You know women think you’re attractive. We see it at all the mingles.”
“But how many have used me here? Surely you can tell me that.”
“We’ve only let ten women in Denmark use your samples. The rest have been overseas.”
“Overseas meaning?”
“Canada, the United States, Russia…Australia.”
“And the samples here in Denmark? How many led to successful pregnancies?
“As far as I know, two.”
“As far as you know? You never did any follow-ups?”
“Why? Why is it so important?”
“I met my daughter, Ida.”
“How? Did someone give you the…”
“I bumped into her mother, she remembered me from the mingles. She was out walking with her daughter and I saw her.”
Ida blanched. Her mouth gaped but no words came out. She blinked rapidly then looked away from Mads. Her fingers still hovered over the keyboard.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost like a whisper. “I’m sorry, Mads…we should have never let anyone in Copenhagen use your sample.”
“I don’t care that it was here, Ida. I just want to know how many kids are out there…how many who could look just like me…”
“The foreign clinics never tell us anything. All we know is how many times they request a specific donor.”
“Well, how many times have I been requested?”
“A lot…”
Now it was Mads’s turn to grow silent. He almost didn’t want to know how many times he’d been requested. He let his head fall back as he stared at the ceiling and tried to remember how many times he’d been asked to leave extra samples.
“Did she look like you?”
He closed his eyes. “She was the spitting image of me when I was a child.”
“I’m sorry, Mads…that must have been awkward.”
“It was. Especially when I think of what I could ever have to offer any child. I have nothing, Ida. What could I possible tell her if she ever showed up on my doorstep?”
“Tell her the truth.”
“The truth wouldn’t make any child happy.”
“Well, don’t tell her about the money part of it. Tell her you wanted to help her parents. That’s what you did. She wouldn’t be alive without you.”
Mads nodded. Maybe Ida was right, but he tried to imagine–years from now–telling Lida how he’d helped her come into existence, and the disgusted look on her face shamed him. He picked up the pen and started continued signing the rest of the forms.
There was more to life than this.
9
PICTURES OF YOU
There were things they never did.
They never became friends on Facebook, Instagram or any other social media, though there were so many times when Mads wished he could see what her life in Stockholm–her life without him–was like.
“We can’t,” Laney reminded him whenever he brought
it up. “His kids are on Facebook, and–even if Niklas says he hates Facebook, he’s got an account there too. He’ll notice.”
They texted and made furtive phone calls whenever they could. And the days would pass and then she was back in Copenhagen again.
When they were finally together again, she admitted she wished she had pictures of him. “Sometimes the ones in my head aren’t enough.”
They were lying in his bed, the sheets twisted around them as darkness settled in the room.
“I’ll be glad when we don’t have to pretend like this anymore.”
“Me too.” Mads aimed the lens of Laney’s phone at them. She was nestled into his chest, her hair a dark cloud of curls on the pillowcase. He took a shot before she realized what he’d done, but she didn’t protest.
“Now you have a picture of us together…”
“I’ll have to hide my phone now.”
“Are you ever going to leave him?”
She nodded and pressed her lips to his collarbone, branding him. “It’s just hard to do it the right way.”
He dropped her phone on the mattress and took her face in his hands. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. The tiny pink tip of her tongue slid across her lower lip.
“I need to know this won’t be forever…I don’t want to hide in the dark like this.”
“It’ll be different soon,” she promised in a breathy voice. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Okay…I just need to know…”
“Soon, Mads…I promise.”
* * *
Later, when Laney took the evening flight and returned to her life in Stockholm, Mads took the train to Humlebek and then walked in the pouring rain to his grandmother’s house. The last time he’d visited, his grandmother had been in a strange, distant mood that had only lifted when his cousin Henrik arrived bearing presents and news of his latest trip to Singapore. But today, he found her at her kitchen table, bent over a crossword puzzle and humming along to a Frank Sinatra song on the radio.