Beautiful Player
Page 88
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In the city, enmeshed in our day-to-day lives, it was easy to forget the Jensen connection, the family connection. The they’d-all-kill-me-if-they-knew-what-we-were-doing connection. I’d been blindsided when she’d brought up Liv because it had felt like such ancient history. But I would be faced with all of that this weekend: my brief history as Liv’s former flame, as Jensen’s best friend, as Johan’s intern. And I would have to face all of that while trying to hide my infatuation with Hanna.
I put my hand on her shoulder, shaking gently. “Hanna.”
She startled a little, but the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was me. She was groggy and not quite conscious but she smiled as if looking at her favorite thing in the world, and murmured, “Mmmm, hey, you.”
And, with that reaction, my heart exploded. “Hey, Plum.”
She smiled shyly, turning her head to look out her window as she stretched. When she saw where we’d parked, she startled a little, sitting up straighter, looking around. “Oh! We’re here.”
“We’re here.”
When she turned back to me, her eyes looked mildly panicked. “It’s going to be weird, isn’t it? I’m going to be staring at your button fly and Jensen will see me staring at your button fly and then you’ll check out my chest and someone will see that, too! What if I touch you? Or”—her eyes went wide—“what if I kiss you?”
Her impending little freak-out calmed me immeasurably. Only one of us was allowed to feel weird at a time.
I shook my head, telling her, “It’s going to be fine. We’re here as friends. We’re visiting your family as friends. There will be no public dick appreciation, and no public breast admiration. I didn’t even pack another pair of button flies. Deal?”
“Deal,” she repeated woodenly. “Just friends.”
“Because that’s what we are,” I reminded her, ignoring the organ inside my chest that twisted as I said this.
Straightening, she nodded and reached for her door handle, chirping, “Friends! Friends visiting my house for Easter! We’re going to see your old friend, my big brother! Thanks for driving me up here from New York, friend Will my friend!”
She laughed as she got out of the car and walked around to get her bag from the trunk.
“Hanna, calm down,” I whispered, placing a soothing hand on her lower back. I felt my eyes move down her neck and settle on her br**sts. “Don’t be a lunatic.”
“Eyes up here, William. Best start now.”
Laughing, I whispered, “I’ll try.”
“Me, too.” With a little wink, she whispered, “And remember to call me Ziggy.”
Helena Bergstrom was such a good hugger she could have been from the Pacific Northwest. Only her softly lilting accent and dramatically European features gave her away as Norwegian-born. She welcomed me in, pulling me just past the front door and then into her familiar embrace. Like Hanna, she was on the tall side, and she had aged beautifully. I kissed her cheek, handing her the flowers we’d bought for her when we stopped to refuel.
“You’re always so thoughtful,” she said, taking them and waving us in. “Johan is still at work. Eric can’t make it. Liv and Rob are here, but Jensen and Niels are still on the road.” She looked past me, eyebrows drawn together. “It is going to rain, so I hope they all get here for dinner.”
She rattled off her children’s names as easily as she breathed. What had her life been like, I wondered, herding so many kids? And as each of them got married and had little ones of their own, this house would only grow more full.
I felt an unfamiliar ache to be part of it somehow and then blinked, looking away. This weekend had the potential to be strange enough without my new emotions thrown into the mix.
Inside, the house felt the same as it had years ago, even though they’d redecorated. It was still comfortable, but instead of the blue and gray décor I remembered from before, it was done in deep browns and reds with plush furniture and bright, cream walls. In the entryway and along the hallway leading deeper into the house, I could see that, redecoration or no, Helena still embraced her American life with a healthy smattering of life-affirming quotes masquerading as art on the walls. I knew what I would see farther into the house:
In the hallway, Live, Laugh, Love!
In the kitchen, A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand!
In the family room, Our children: We give them roots so they can take flight!
Catching me reading the one closest to the front door—All roads lead home—Hanna winked, wearing a knowing smile.
I put my hand on her shoulder, shaking gently. “Hanna.”
She startled a little, but the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was me. She was groggy and not quite conscious but she smiled as if looking at her favorite thing in the world, and murmured, “Mmmm, hey, you.”
And, with that reaction, my heart exploded. “Hey, Plum.”
She smiled shyly, turning her head to look out her window as she stretched. When she saw where we’d parked, she startled a little, sitting up straighter, looking around. “Oh! We’re here.”
“We’re here.”
When she turned back to me, her eyes looked mildly panicked. “It’s going to be weird, isn’t it? I’m going to be staring at your button fly and Jensen will see me staring at your button fly and then you’ll check out my chest and someone will see that, too! What if I touch you? Or”—her eyes went wide—“what if I kiss you?”
Her impending little freak-out calmed me immeasurably. Only one of us was allowed to feel weird at a time.
I shook my head, telling her, “It’s going to be fine. We’re here as friends. We’re visiting your family as friends. There will be no public dick appreciation, and no public breast admiration. I didn’t even pack another pair of button flies. Deal?”
“Deal,” she repeated woodenly. “Just friends.”
“Because that’s what we are,” I reminded her, ignoring the organ inside my chest that twisted as I said this.
Straightening, she nodded and reached for her door handle, chirping, “Friends! Friends visiting my house for Easter! We’re going to see your old friend, my big brother! Thanks for driving me up here from New York, friend Will my friend!”
She laughed as she got out of the car and walked around to get her bag from the trunk.
“Hanna, calm down,” I whispered, placing a soothing hand on her lower back. I felt my eyes move down her neck and settle on her br**sts. “Don’t be a lunatic.”
“Eyes up here, William. Best start now.”
Laughing, I whispered, “I’ll try.”
“Me, too.” With a little wink, she whispered, “And remember to call me Ziggy.”
Helena Bergstrom was such a good hugger she could have been from the Pacific Northwest. Only her softly lilting accent and dramatically European features gave her away as Norwegian-born. She welcomed me in, pulling me just past the front door and then into her familiar embrace. Like Hanna, she was on the tall side, and she had aged beautifully. I kissed her cheek, handing her the flowers we’d bought for her when we stopped to refuel.
“You’re always so thoughtful,” she said, taking them and waving us in. “Johan is still at work. Eric can’t make it. Liv and Rob are here, but Jensen and Niels are still on the road.” She looked past me, eyebrows drawn together. “It is going to rain, so I hope they all get here for dinner.”
She rattled off her children’s names as easily as she breathed. What had her life been like, I wondered, herding so many kids? And as each of them got married and had little ones of their own, this house would only grow more full.
I felt an unfamiliar ache to be part of it somehow and then blinked, looking away. This weekend had the potential to be strange enough without my new emotions thrown into the mix.
Inside, the house felt the same as it had years ago, even though they’d redecorated. It was still comfortable, but instead of the blue and gray décor I remembered from before, it was done in deep browns and reds with plush furniture and bright, cream walls. In the entryway and along the hallway leading deeper into the house, I could see that, redecoration or no, Helena still embraced her American life with a healthy smattering of life-affirming quotes masquerading as art on the walls. I knew what I would see farther into the house:
In the hallway, Live, Laugh, Love!
In the kitchen, A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand!
In the family room, Our children: We give them roots so they can take flight!
Catching me reading the one closest to the front door—All roads lead home—Hanna winked, wearing a knowing smile.
