Maybe Baby (10 page)

I only took Niklas there once. We were in Philadelp
hia for a former classmate's wedding. We rented a car and I drove west on Lancaster Avenue, my knuckles tightening as we left behind the green oasis of Drexel University's campus. All too quickly the run-down houses and abandoned storefronts were upon us. Niklas tensed beside me. He didn't say a word when I turned left and drove along Baring Street. I stopped in front of the two-story row house where I'd grown up. A new family lived there—yuppies from the looks of it. The bricks had been repointed, the stamp-sized garden full of hydrangea in full bloom. They'd hung a seasonal flag outside the front door, which they'd painted a shiny red. I nodded at the house. "I grew up here," I told Niklas. "But it didn't look so nice when we lived there."

"
It's... small." He nearly grimaced then seemed to remember why were there and that I was watching him. He winked at me like it was an inside joke we shared, but his initial reaction stayed with me and haunted the rest of our stay.

My hometown lost its luster, and all I could see were its faults. We never went back to Philadelphia together again. I didn't want to be reminded that Niklas was ashamed of where I came from. He liked the nice, shiny version of me. The version of me with no gritty past, just a pristine present that revolved around him and the gil
ded trappings of his life.

*      *      *

Drottninggatan was crowded with tourists, so my progress was slow. I'd had to slalom my way through clots of Swedish and foreign tourists alike. Getting past them proved difficult and frustrating. It reminded me why I hated coming to Drottninggatan. But there was nothing to be done about it. It was the street all of the tour guides instructed tourists to visit first, despite the fact that it was not very interesting and was clotted with the same stores you could find in just about every shopping mall in Sweden.

I dodged my way to PUB and took the elevator up to floor three, where Andreas and Eddy had their boutique. Eddy was busy with a customer when I arrived. I could tell this was a big-money transaction; one of those trust fund babies who would buy all the most expensive vi
ntage dresses she could find, without caring where anything came from or how beautiful it was. While Eddy schmoozed, I browsed. On one of the racks was the most gorgeous slip dress I'd ever seen. It was so light, so fragile, made of blush-pink silk and, when I held it in front of me and imagined wearing it, a little shiver went through me. I would wear my hair down, the lace edging would frame my cleavage to perfection. The price tag fluttered. Four thousand kronor. More than I wanted to spend, but I had to have it.

But the Trust Fund Baby saw it in my hands, and a
nnounced that she wanted it. I flashed Eddy a warning look—it wasn't so often that I became so attached to clothing, so she knew better than to try to separate me from this wispy piece of magic. She made an excuse, found a similar dress, and convinced the Trust Fund Baby to buy that one instead. Once she'd gone, Eddy called Bring Express to pick up the rich girl's purchases.

Eddy eyed me with interest.
"Buying a sexy dress. An expensive, sexy dress. Things must be getting better with Niklas."

I shrugged.
"Not really. He found my phone."

"
And?"

"
Eddy, it was full of messages from Mads."

Saying his name, even when it was getting me in trouble, felt so good. I could almost melt just thinking of the sound of his voice and the slow, easy way he stroked me when we lay in bed together.

"Who's Mads, sweetie?"

"
The man I met in Copenhagen."

"
Whoa—hold up now, I thought you said nothing happened there. You've been holding out on me."

"
I wanted to tell you."

"
Oh, Jesus. Did you sleep with him?"

I nodded, trying to feel contrite but instead an ove
rwhelming sense of joy bubbled inside me. "Eddy, I was so attracted to him. I haven't felt like that with Niklas in so long."

Eddy shushed me.
"Sweetie, you were just supposed to go there for information on Super Sperm, you weren't supposed to go hog wild."

"
Well, now I think Niklas knows."

"
You told him you fucked someone else? Sweetie, you're never supposed to admit to that. You always say 'There was this guy who was really laying it on thick, but I said no'—even when you actually did do it."

"
I didn't tell him I slept with anyone," I said quickly. "I only told him about the sperm bank, but then I couldn't find my phone and it was full of messages from Mads."

Eddy gripped my hand.
"What were you thinking?"

"
I was thinking... I don't know what I was thinking. I just knew I wanted him."

"
He must have been something if you strayed."

"
He was. He is. I can't even describe it, Eddy, he made me feel like I was alive again. But Niklas hasn't actually said anything. He's just being weird. Distant."

"
Maybe he's using one of his therapist tricks on you."

"
God, maybe."

"
So you need to figure out a plan." Eddy shook her head.

"
I know, and that's why I came to you."

"
And the guy?"

"
Mads?"

"
Yes. Is he worth the mess you're making?"

"
I don't know. Maybe he is."

"
Honey, you can't just toss away five years with Niklas for someone who might only be a maybe."

And then she launched into a Colin analogy. I knew one was coming. It was more a rant than conversation, but I needed to hear what she had to say. And this was a marathon rant by Eddy standards. It continued until we'd closed the shop together. Its tempo increased as we walked homewards. She only paused when we ducked into
Melanders Fisk for a glass of wine. At least there, she spoke in more hushed tones, since it was possible we'd bump into someone who knew both Niklas and me.

By the time she finished her analogy, peppered with nostalgic reminiscences of what she'd lost, what she knew she might never have again, my guilt bubbled over. I blinked away the first tears burning my eyes. I excused myself quickly and retreated to the restroom. I splashed cold water on my face and tried to stop the well of tears from coming. My sobs came in heaving gasps. I hated crying, especially in public places. I was someone who cried in private, usually curled up on the sofa in my o
ffice, where I could hide. But now I was in a restaurant, too close to my apartment for comfort, trying to cry away all the confusion and guilt. Yes, that awful word again, that was chafing at me.

I tried to get my emotions
under control again, but I was too far-gone. My face was burning up, my chest hurt, and my eyes prickled. Eddy came in the bathroom and took charge. She pulled me closer to the sink and turned on the cold water.

"
Put your wrists in the water stream."

I did as she asked. Though my hands were still sha
king, the cool water cut through the heat burning inside me. She took some paper towels, wet them and then squeezed out the excess water. She then laid the towels across the back of my neck and spoke softly to me. "Relax, Laney. Just listen to me."

I nodded, letting the cool towels absorb all my anxi
ety. I felt so lost, and I didn't know what to do about it. I knew I couldn't keep doing this, bouncing between Mads and Niklas, and pretending this was tenable. It wasn't fair to either of them. It wasn't even fair to me.

"
You need to end whatever it is you started with this guy. You had your taste of something new. But you know, in the end, you should be with Niklas. You need to commit to your relationship because you know—and I know this is true—you love him."

I nodded again.
"I do love him."

"
You're just confused. That's all this is."

We stood there murmuring to one another, ignoring the other patrons who came in and disappeared into the stalls. I finally calmed down enough that I could go home. I promised Eddy I would call her the next day.

At home, the apartment smelled and looked better. The beer smell had been replaced with the fresh scent of lavender and pine needles. I ventured further into the apartment and called out to Niklas and Jesper. There was no answer. I went into the kitchen. A Post-It note was waiting for me: "We went to Köttbaren to pick up food. Back in a bit."

I took my loot into the bedroom, and then stripped. I was curious to see how the dress would look on me. I slipped it over my head and let the silk slither down my body. The version of me I saw in the mirror looked se
nsuous and beautiful. I let my hair down. It fell in unruly waves around my shoulders. Was this how Niklas saw me? An attractive brown girl with bee-stung lips, full breasts, and curvy hips. I looked both innocent and sexual. There was something so titillating about this dress. It was so thin, I would not be able to wear a bra with it. And whatever underwear I chose would have to be skimpy at best. This was not a dress for Spanx or granny panties. This was the dress of a seductive woman, and wearing it made me feel like I could be her. I could be one of those women who wore barely-there dresses that skimmed my curves. I could be one of those women who didn't give a damn about anything other than pleasure. Had the woman who'd owned this dress before me been wanton? Had she been the sort of woman who had a lover? I turned slowly, trying to see how the dress looked from every angle. I loved it.

Now, I just had to figure out who I would wear it for.

Voices Carry

hy don’t you wear your new dress t
onight?" Niklas raked his fingers through his hair and then brushed an invisible piece of fluff from his shoulder. He was standing in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom, examining his reflection.

I wrinkled my nose at the idea.
"It’s too chilly tonight." I’d already decided that it was not a dress to be worn for Niklas. And definitely not a dress to be squandered on dinner with Karolina.

"
You’d look amazing in it."

"
No, not tonight." I was already slipping into a knee-length sheath in black cotton jersey. It was my go-to dress for dinners at the expensive French restaurants Niklas favored, or—on nights like tonight—dreaded dinners at Karolina’s place. I was in the walk-in closet, one of my favorite hiding places in the apartment. Sometimes, when Niklas and the kids went into their exclusive cocoon of familial love, I retreated to my closet. It was bigger than any closet in my parents' house. It was closer to the size of my childhood bedroom. And I could sit for a while in this closet, that had once been the maid’s room in the apartment’s previous, pre World War I life. Sometimes I even called Eddy from this closet, when dealing with lonely nights while Niklas was away at yet another conference. I called her from the sanctuary of the closet when I discovered Niklas had cheated on me with his ex. Eddy told me to leave him then. I stayed.

I tried not to think about his transgression. Most days, I could squeeze it to the back of my mind. I told myself it was the alcohol’s fault. He’d had too much to drink that night. I’d left him there when he was vulner
able. I should have made him come home with me. But I also blamed him. He still loved Karolina, even if he pretended he didn’t. I had the feeling he’d go right back to her if I weren’t in the picture, no matter how many times he swore he could never be involved with her again.

It was one of the reasons I hated when she called. It was also why I hated when he discussed our private life with her. I didn’t want his ex-wife picking over the scraps of gossip she thought she could get from our life. It was also the reason I didn’t want to go tonight.

And I wouldn’t wear a sexy dress to show her that Niklas still wanted me.

"
Why did you spend so much money on a dress you aren’t going to wear?" He was standing in the doorway between the closet and our bedroom. "I want you to wear it tonight."

"
I didn’t buy that dress to impress Karolina." I practically spat her name out. It had come out too harshly. Niklas flashed me a strange, cautious look. The ghost of his infidelity stood between us, casting a tense pall over us.

"
I just thought you’d look good in it."

"
I don’t want to wear it tonight. It’s enough that I'm even going."

"
You don’t have to go, then."

"
Karolina would like that, wouldn’t she?"

"
Don’t get like this. It’s Jesper birthday, and she wants a family dinner."

"
And what did Jesper want?"

"
Laney."

"
Never mind. I'm dressed. I'm sorry I haven’t tarted myself up so your ex-wife can be satisfied that tonight you won’t get so drunk you fall into her bed again."

"
My God, why are you even bringing that up now?"

I nearly apologized. The words
"I'm sorry" were perched on the tip of my tongue, but my memories of the evening that had led to his relapse with Karolina still ate at me. I couldn’t completely forgive him.

We were at an impasse. We could pretend it had ne
ver happened whenever we went to New York or Thailand. Distance could numb it, but it always bubbled to the surface sooner or later.

I turned away from him and concentrated on finding a pair of shoes. As a concession, I slipped into a pair of platform stilettos I knew he liked. He sometimes called them my
"come fuck me" shoes. Once, he’d asked me to strip and only wear those heels. I couldn’t do that for him anymore. Not since that night when he confessed he’d slept with Karolina. I hated even being in the same room as Karolina, knowing that Niklas somehow could not resist her no matter how much he said he loved me or craved me. She was the real woman in his life, and I was a stand-in. A stand-in he loved fucking, a stand-in who made his life a little more palatable by organizing everything and smoothing out details. But I was not the one he married. And I wasn't the one he turned to when he wanted advice.

I took a deep breath as I adjusted my feet in the zebra print shoes. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I pulled a face at my own reflection. This wasn’t how I’d ima
gined my life would be, not when I first decided to move to Europe, and certainly not when I’d moved in with Niklas. I thought there would be so much more to this, to us. Not this ridiculous game of pretending his infidelity meant nothing.

"
Tonight, let’s not bring up the sperm bank visit," Niklas said.

I straighten my shoulders and pull my hair into a messy chignon.
"I wasn’t planning on it."             

"
Karolina will just blow everything out of proportion."

"
I don’t care what she does. It’s none of her business. It never was."

"
No, of course, you’re right. I shouldn’t have mentioned it to her."

"
No, you shouldn’t have."

"
Laney."

I dropped my hands to my sides and turned to face him. He was giving me an unreadable look. I waited, my nerves building as the seconds passed.

"You know I love you."             

"
That’s what you tell me."

"
Why do you have to sound so doubtful?"             

"
Sometimes, it feels like we don’t fit anymore," I said.

"
Of course we fit."

"
I don’t want to go, then."             

"
I already said we’re going."

"
Why did you tell her?"             

"
I told you already. It came up in passing." Irritation colored his voice. He folded his arms across his chest. The tips of his ears burned red.

"
When?" I insisted.

"
We had lunch."

"
You had lunch?" I started but there was no point in continuing. This was an argument waiting to happen. One we’d had on so many occasions. I shook my head. Forget it, Laney. You’ll never win this. In the end, you’ll be the one with nothing.

We took a cab to Karolina’s apartment in
Östermalm. I thought it was a waste of money, but Niklas didn’t want to lose his parking spot, and he reasoned it would take too long to find a place to park once we arrived. Jesper’s birthday presents were in a shopping bag balanced on my feet. I’d bought them. It was one of the things I did, buying birthday presents and Christmas presents for his kids, his secretary. I put more thought into it, he said. I knew exactly what people wanted since I worked in marketing and understood people's likes and dislikes. But really he just didn't want to be bothered. And though I didn't mind being the purveyor of presents, it bugged me that he didn't even try, not even when it came to his own children.

"
Did we pick up flowers for Karolina?" he asked as he tapped away on his phone.

"
That's your job, not mine," I quipped as we passed the dark green expanse of Humlegården Park and the Royal Library. Back when we were newly in love, we spent a long summer afternoon in that park, lounging over a picnic basket and bottles of rosé. Later we stumbled back to my apartment and made love in a feverish rush. Thinking about it took the edge off heading into enemy territory. I wasn't going there for Karolina's sake. I was going there because of Jesper, who was a sweet kid, even if his sister too easily swayed him.

Tonight, I wouldn't let Siri or Karolina get under my skin.

Karolina lived in an extravagant apartment on
Strandvägen. The apartment took up an entire floor of the building, and had a view of Lake Mälaren, the bridge to Djurgården and the majestic burnished brick facade of Riksmuseet. It was the sort of grandiose apartment regularly featured in Elle: Interior or Living, Etc and Karolina liked to brag about how many times she’d entertained her famous friends there. She had a lot of famous friends, thanks to her family’s cultural connections. Her parents were theatre legends with aristocratic backgrounds. And, just by the way she looked at me, I knew she thought I wasn’t good enough for her ex-husband. And sometimes it ate away at me, and made me wish I could be with someone else, someone without so much baggage.

"
Nicky, darling!" Karolina flashed him a brilliant smile as she ushered us in.

"
Hej, Karro." Niklas was smiling back at her a little too hard. I noted how his eyes lingered on the plunging V-neck of her caftan, at the exposed skin and shadow of her cleavage. Only Karolina could get away with wearing a silk kaftan and looking drop-dead gorgeous. In my black jersey dress, I felt like a dowdy aunt who was trying too hard. 

Niklas and Karolina held each other a smidgen too long. She kissed the side of his chin and left a perfectly formed crimson lip print. Jesper groaned at the sight of his parents hugging.
"Move, Dad. I want to say hi to Laney."

He sprang away from Karolina as if suddenly released from her spell. A flush of red crept up his neck. I flashed
him a look, and then hugged Jesper and wished him a happy birthday. Jesper grinned at me. With his mop of dark hair and strong jaw, he looked so much like a younger version of Niklas. I told him he was getting handsomer every day and handed him his bag of presents. "From your dad and me."

"
I know they’re both from you," Jesper said. "He never remembers anything."             

"
I always remember your birthday," Niklas protested.

"
Oh, now...come, come," Karolina interrupted. "Let’s move through to the dining room. Everyone’s waiting."

Karolina had seated me at the far end of the table, next to
Niklasʼs brother-in-law Oscar. Already, he’d tried to slide his hand along my thigh as he bored me with long-winded descriptions of his kitchen renovation. I slapped his hand away and hissed "stop!" at him. Niklas was with Jesper and Karolina at the center of the table. Karolina was holding court, gesturing with her wine glass as she reminded everyone of how many hours she’d spent in labor with Jesper. She was laughing, her graceful neck exposed as she swept her hair back with her other hand.

I kept my eyes trained on Niklas, hoping he would be attuned enough to turn to me and reassure me with a smile. If he turned to me and there was a return of the smoldering intimacy he once felt for me, I could hold on. I could call off everything with Mads, I thought. But he was watching his ex-wife with such an intensity that I knew he’d forgotten I was even there. And the way he
was drinking her in was how he used to look at me. I blinked and looked away. I didn’t say no when Oscar refilled my wine glass.

New York seemed like such a long time ago.

I told myself I imagined how he drank her in. I even convinced myself he couldn't make love to me at night if he'd started sneaking around with Karro again. But I sensed it in the strange vibe between them. The smiles they directed at one another. The looks that lingered a little too long. I knew Niklas too well. He'd been this way with me.  And whether it was alcohol that fueled his inability to keep Karro at a distance or something else, I could tell he'd slept with her again.

Karro
caught me watching them. Instead of glancing away, she held my stare and then smirked. She angled her body closer to Niklasʼs and whispered in his ear. The neckline of her caftan gaped and displayed the tops of her breasts. And Niklas, oblivious to anyone around them, kissed her on the side of her mouth. His hand slid beneath the table.

What the fuck was going on? I gulped down my wine and looked away. I was sure of it now.

He was fucking her.

We were even now.

Even if it didn't make me feel any better.