And then, when Johanna fell asleep, we drank coffee in the kitchen. I told her I felt angry when she got here, but I didn’t feel that way anymore.
“How do you feel now?” Mom said.
“You’re the world’s best mom,” I said, hugging her. Mom cried, I think. She almost never does that. Her cheeks felt moist. We held each other for a long time. I asked forgiveness because I’d been so mean, and Mom said everything was fine now. Now that I’d asked for forgiveness.
Then she talked about the things we used to do together when I was little. Some I had forgotten, some I remembered quite clearly. It was probably our sweetest moment together since Dad died. It’s a pity we couldn’t be like that more often. Maybe it’s my fault. Mom hasn’t had it easy.
“If you want, you can come home with me for a few days,” she said. “I don’t want to force you, Isabelle. But I miss you, you know that.”
I promised to sleep on it. Then we didn’t talk about it anymore. We didn’t talk about the visit from the police, either. It felt like that could wait, as if it were out of place in this moment. But Mom said she was open to discussing anything.
“I know I’ve been tough on you,” she said. “But I will try to change.”
I’ve been unfair to her. She isn’t at all as horrible as I imagine sometimes. Maybe we’ll end up with a better relationship? I think so. I want that for us. And I know Mom does, too.
“Come on, girls,” Mom says. “Breakfast is ready.”
She goes back to the kitchen and leaves us alone for a while.
“Your mother is something else,” Johanna says. “If that had been my mom, I would have caught hell. She would have chewed me out. And then I would have had to take care of myself. No one’s ever taken care of me like your mom did.”
“She does that,” I answer. “Mom likes to take care of people.”
“Maybe that’s why she works in health care?”
“I guess so.”
Johanna wants to give me a kiss, but I push her away.
“Your breath stinks.”
I throw off the blanket and climb out of bed.
“And you smell like farts.” Johanna laughs and slaps me on the butt.
We go to the kitchen, sit down at the table. Mom has prepared a lavish breakfast for us. Coffee for me and Mom, green tea for Johanna. Juice and milk, yogurt, freshly baked rolls, and cheese and meats and spreads she’s brought with her.
“Dig in,” Mom says and sits down.
After breakfast, Johanna wants a smoke. We go out on the balcony while Mom clears the table and does the dishes.
“Do you want a cig or not in front of Mommy?” Johanna says.
“You know I hate smoking. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s cool.”
“I didn’t know you started again.”
“I always smoke when I’m depressed. It makes me feel better.”
Johanna takes a deep drag and blows the smoke in my face. She glances in at Mom, who’s bustling around the kitchen.
“Did you get rid of your virginity yet? I heard Fredde was here.”
I wave away the smoke.
“How do you know that?” I say.
“That you’re a virgin?”
“Oh, Johanna, you are so annoying. No, that Fredrik was here, of course.”
“Your mother thought you had somebody here. I knew it had to be Fredde. Calm down, I didn’t say anything. Not because I don’t think your mom can handle it. She’s a lot nicer than you made her sound.”
“Yes,” I say. “I guess she is.”
“Well?”
“What do you mean?”
“Stop.” Johanna pulls her jacket tighter around her. She squints her eyes at me and holds her cigarette in the corner of her mouth. She looks cool, in a way I never will. “Your secrets are safe with me. You know that.”
“About what?” I say and still don’t understand what Johanna means. She blows out a blue cloud of smoke against the sky. Looks down at the crotch of my sweatpants.
“Your virginity?”
I’m still not as comfortable as Johanna talking about these things. I’ve mostly listened to her long commentaries on the various boys and men she’s been with. But when I think of how Fredrik and I got dressed in a hurry, how he pushed me against the wall of the elevator, and how we made out all the way down, how I wrapped one leg around his body, I do really want to tell her. He mumbled that we should have done it as soon as he arrived. Then we would have had time. We giggled and kissed again. Before he left he stroked my hair and my cheek and asked me to call him. I had to get myself together for a moment after that, rearrange my hair, before meeting Mom. I feel warm inside just thinking about it.
I look in through the window. Mom is busy sorting the dishes on the shelves above the sink. She turns around and looks at me as if she knows I’m looking. She seems happy. I wave to her and she waves back.
I turn to Johanna, lean against her and whisper, “Almost. It was sooo close. He is so wonderful. But then Mom showed up.”
“Is he big?”
“What?”
“Tell me, I want to know.”
“What do you mean, big? Do you mean . . .”
Johanna nods. I don’t understand how she can ask such a thing, and I have the urge to tell her to shut up. But then we look at each other and burst out laughing.
It’s cold outside but we stay on the balcony for a little longer. Johanna talks about Axel, but meanwhile I think of Stella. And what Mom said about her.
And about the police officers who were here.
They asked me about my psychotherapist, and I told them I thought I saw her outside my apartment and near KTH. But I’m not scared of her. Not at all.
However, I am afraid this has gone too far. Mom exaggerates her worries. She also talked to the police officers, a man and a woman. Mom didn’t really say anything that’s not true, but it didn’t sound good. Stella will surely catch hell for this. And I think what I said might have made it worse.
I asked the police why they were asking questions, what they were planning to do. Why were they here, I hadn’t called them. They didn’t answer that. They said thank you and good-bye, we’ll look into this. Don’t worry. But they already made me really worried. I was supposed to tell them immediately if I heard from her again. I was planning on meeting her every Wednesday for a long time to come. But it didn’t feel like the right time to say that.
Mom followed them out and continued talking to them in the hall. I couldn’t hear what they said. Don’t even know if I want to know.
I’m trying to put the pieces together. They don’t fit. There’s something about it that bothers me, confuses me. But I don’t want to think about it. Not right now. I just can’t. It will have to wait.
Johanna puts her cig out in a flowerpot, and we go inside again. Much to my surprise, Mom asks if Johanna and I want to play Scrabble. Johanna says she’d love to. And gives Mom a big hug.
My phone dings. I pick it up and check. A text from Fredrik.
Everything okay? Can’t you come over soon?! Miss you! XO
I go into the bathroom and answer.
All is well here, just been really busy. Miss you, too! Longing for you. Call you tonight. XO
He answers immediately.
Longing for you, too. Come here!
As soon as Mom goes home, I’ll take the subway straight to him and forget everything about dead children and police interrogations.
Stella
I’ve been accused of threats and harassment. Maybe unlawful pursuit and stalking as well.
Henrik’s eyes. I can’t stand to meet them. He looks at me as if I’m some madwoman he stumbled across on the street. He looks at me with disgust. A poisonous cloud of disappointment lies between us.
Detective Olivia Lundkvist asks the questions. Mats Hedin studies me with a fixed expression. I’ve been tied to the pillory, and there is no escape.
Yes, I know Lina Niemi.
Yes, she’s been in therapy with me.
Yes, it was alleged that she tried to commit suicide, but that’s not the whole truth.
No, I saw no sign that she was suicidal.
Yes, I know her parents think I crossed the line and was overly personal. That’s not true.
Yes, I am aware that they reported me.
To the Health and Social Care Inspectorate. You know that, too. It’s no secret.
Yes, I know Ulf Rickardsson.
Yes, he’s in therapy with me.
Am I usually so personal with my patients? Everyone who works in this kind of profession is, to some extent. But not in the way you make it sound.
Not at all. That’s not true at all. I never touched him.
No, that’s not right, either.
I didn’t scream at him. Maybe I raised my voice. He felt threatened? Physically?
My colleagues? When?
No, I took today off.
No, I forgot to inform anyone about it.
That’s right. Isabelle Karlsson is my patient.
She participates in group therapy at my clinic.
I haven’t cut off contact with her. Not yet. No, I know she’s my daughter. Listen, I . . . Can’t you at least listen to me?
I try to catch Henrik’s eyes. He gets up and stands looking out the window toward the garden. I close my eyes.
Inhale. Exhale.
Yes, I have been to Vällingby.
Outside the building where she lives, yes.
I don’t understand. What do you mean?
I have been to Borlänge, too.
No, I did not go onto the property. The neighbors are lying. It’s a lie. No, no, I sat outside in the car.