Read Maybe Baby Online

Authors: Kim Golden

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction

Maybe Baby (19 page)

BOOK: Maybe Baby
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"We should eat," I said.

"
No. You should tell me what it is that has you pulling away from me."

I took a large gulp of my wine. The crisp chill hit the back of my throat a little too quickly and I nearly coughed.

"She saw you kiss him, Laney." The smile, that wonderful smile of his that used to fill my heart with light, had faded. He looked so drawn. "She saw you kiss him... so, please, don't lie to me anymore. Don't tell me she made it up, or that she misinterpreted anything."

I shook my head. I couldn't get my mouth to form the words. My hands were still shaking. Inside, every part of me tightened.
"Niklas."

"
Just fucking tell me the truth. Who is he?"

I let out a long sigh. I was already crying and I tried to wipe away the tears as quickly as possible.
"It's Mads."

"
Mads? Anton's friend? But you just met him..." his voice trailed off. "Shit. You knew him already."

"
I met him in August." It came out as a whisper.

"
Did Anton introduce you? Is that why he invited him to dinner?"

"
No, no, no.... he didn't know Mads and I already knew each other."

"
So when did all of this start?"

"
When I came here to go to the sperm bank... I met him at the mingle."

"He was one of the donors?
"

I nodded.
"We just... clicked." I hated saying it. It was such a cliché but that was exactly what happened. Every particle, every atom, every part of our being slid into place as soon as we'd met. And I couldn't deny it anymore. "And... I kept telling myself it was just temporary, that this feeling would disappear, but it keeps getting stronger. I want to be with him."

"
Laney, no. Don't do this."

"
We don't work together anymore, Niklas. I'm not what you want."

"
Of course you're what I want. Who I want."

"
If I were, you would have told me from the start there was no chance we could have a family together."

"
We are a family, Laney. Me, you, Jesper, Siri..."

"
We're not a family. They're your kids. I am just an observer. I don't have any place in your family. They don't even want me there."

"
I want you there."

"
No, you don't," I spat out at him. "You still want your ex-wife. I see it every time you look at her. I know you've been fucking her—so what is the point of keeping me around?"

"
Laney, I was drunk then—"

"
You weren't very drunk the night of Jesper's party," I said. "And yet you still couldn't keep your hands off her."

"
That was a mistake."

"
You call her for advice, you never ask me my opinion of anything. You talk to her every day, Niklas. You may as well still be married to her."

"
So you're fucking someone else because you're mad at me?" Niklas looked as though he were ready to laugh in my face. "Is that what you're saying?"

"
I fucked him because he made me feel alive, and he made me feel like I was the only woman he wanted. I wasn't competing with his ex. He wanted me, he wants me. I'm not enough for you, I never will be."

"
Babe, you are enough for me—"

"
No, I'm not, Nicke." I shook my head and retreated to the kitchen. I poured a glass of wine for myself and gulped it down quickly. "Stop lying to yourself, stop lying to me—"

"
You're one to talk about lying!"

"
Yes, I lied! I lied about going to Copenhagen, I lied so I could spend time with a man who loves me. And where were you? Were you really at conferences? Were you really at seminars? Or were you meeting Karolina in hotels?"

"
You think I was seeing her?"

"
You were. It's obvious. I don't know how I missed the signs before."

"
And you think that justifies... this?"

"
I am not who you want, Nicke. And you... why do you call yourself my husband when you've never even asked me to marry you? I'm just some fucking perpetual girlfriend. And your daughter despises me, your ex-wife looks down her nose at me or treats me like I don't exist. And... I... don't exist. Not for you. But with Mads..."

"
We're only going through a rough patch, Laney. We can get through this."

"
No, we can't." I countered. "I love you. I still love you, but there's no passion between us—"

"
You can't say that... we've made love so many times since you met him, and I've felt the connection between us, Laney. I'm not blind. I saw how you reacted to everything we did together."

"
Niklas, stop... this isn't helping." I sat down at the table. Our bowls of food were going cold. "We should eat... we can talk more once we've eaten."

"
I don't want to eat." Niklas sat down across from me. He was furious but somehow he remained calm. "I want answers."

*      *      *

The rest of the night was spent in what felt like an extended therapy session. I tried to eat, but the food held no flavor. I felt wrung out from all of his questions. Sometimes he'd go quiet and tell me he couldn't look at me. I went for a walk in the rain, hoping to clear my head, wishing I could stop crying and feeling so miserable. I should have been happy, shouldn't I? I was free now. I should have been calling Mads and telling him the news but a part of me was in mourning. Niklas was more than just my former lover, he was also my friend, and now I was losing that part of our relationship and there was no way we could preserve it and keep it separate from the dissolution of us.

When I returned to the apartment, I changed out of my damp clothing and took a hot shower. I changed into a pair of yoga pants and a French terry shirt. The apar
tment felt cold and empty. I wandered the rooms, looking for Niklas, but he was gone. No note, no left behind mementos of our relationship. I retreated to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. The rain beat against the windows. I picked up my phone and called Niklas. He didn't answer. I sent him a text asking where he was, but it went unanswered. I was getting what I wanted so why did I feel so alone? And why hadn't I called Mads?

I lay down and pulled my duvet up to my shoulders. I didn't want to think. So I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come.

Sometimes sleeping was better than thinking.

*      *      *

I shouldn't have been surprised when the next morning the incessant ringing of my iPhone awakened me. I fumbled for it. Eddy's number flashed on the display. I pressed the button for speakerphone, and muttered a drowsy hello.

"
Sweetie, you could have given me a head's up."

"
Sorry," I mumbled, wishing futilely I could have a few more hours of no one else knowing. "It was sort of sudden."

"
Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting your boyfriend to bang on my door last night. He seems to think I'd encouraged you to fly the coop."

"
Eddy, shit... I'm really sorry about that. This isn't your problem. He shouldn't have done that."

"
A lot of women would say you were fucking crazy for dumping Niklas."

"
Are you one of them?"

"
No," she admitted. "I think you could have handled it a little better, but you and I know you were in a holding pattern with Niklas. So, what prompted the big scene? Did Super Sperm make you realize there is life outside of Stockholm?"

"
I was thinking that I needed to give Mads and me a chance."

"
Niklas says you ripped his heart out."

"
That doesn't sound like him."

"
It was the alcohol talking."

"
He had an idea it was coming." I said. "Siri saw me with Mads and told him about it. I think he knew, even before, but he chose not to see it."

"
When did she see you? Was she in Copenhagen?"

"
No... in Stockholm."

"
Laney! Tell me you didn't sleep with him in your apartment."

"
No, we were at Hotel Rival. That's where she saw us."

"
Sweetie, you should have known better. Stockholm isn't that big of a town."

"
I know... it was stupid of me, but I needed to see Mads. I missed him."

"
He asked me to pack up all of your things that are still in the apartment."

"
I'm sorry, Eddy."

"
Just so you know, you owe me big time."

"
I know. I'll make it up to you... I promise."

"
Just tell me this, Laney. Is he really worth all of this?"

"
Mads? I think so. I won't know until I at least give us a chance."

"
I hope you won't regret this. I don't think Niklas will give you a second chance."

Later, on my way to
Mads's workshop, something Niklas said popped into my head. When we were last in Copenhagen together, just a few weeks ago, he told me he wanted me to be happy. "Get it out of your system, and come back to me." And now I was following his advice, and he was making sure there was no way I could ever go back to him.

"
I told him," were the first words out of my mouth as soon as I walked into Mads's workshop.

He stopped sanding the surface of a table he was working on and asked,
"How did he take it?"

"
Not very well." I walked into his open arms and breathed in the sweet scent of wood and sawdust. He enfolded me in a tight embrace and kissed my cheek, whispered that everything would be okay. Why was I crying? Shit, why was I crying when I was getting exactly what I wanted?

"
It's better this way,
min elskede
." He kissed the tip of my nose. "We don't need to hide anymore."

His strength soothed me. He was right. We no longer needed to hide or lie to anyone. We could finally see what it felt like to go on proper dates and hold hands in public.

*      *      *

Our first outing as a proper couple was a dinner party being thrown by two of Mads'ss oldest friends, Trine and Adam. Trine was a dancer in the corps de ballet with the Royal Danish Ballet, while her husband Adam was an IT specialist for Den Danske Bank. I was both excited and nervous about going. I was looking forward to meeting Mads'ss friends and being a proper couple, but my Danish was not very good, and I wondered what they would say once they heard how we'd met. As we were getting dressed, I asked Mads if he'd told them how we met. His answer was a noncommittal shrug.

"
They haven't asked."

A typical guy answer, I thought. I stared at my refle
ction and wondered if they would compare me to his previous girlfriends. Of course, they would. Maybe they'd even compare me to the Swedish woman he'd married when he was studying at Konstfack. I didn't know much about their relationship, only that it hadn't worked.

"
Do they know I'm black?" I asked, out of habit. It was a question I always had to ask when I was dating back in the US. I was an equal opportunity dater; I dated men of all skin colors and ethnicities. And more often than not, there was someone whose friends tried to dissuade them from dating me because "It isn’t easy dating someone black."

But Mads seemed more perplexed than anything by my question.
"No one cares about skin color like that, at least not my friends."

Everyone in Scandinavia said variations of the same thing when it came to skin color. They said racism didn't exist there, or that people weren't as obsessed with skin color as Americans, and then recounted how good imm
igrants had it in their countries, compared to the United States with its history of slavery and segregation. It didn't matter if you tried to argue your point, that racism existed everywhere, or that people just weren't as open about it here. With the exception of neo-Nazis and members of
Sveriges Demokraterna
, no one would admit that they sometimes muttered "
svart skalle
" at immigrants or ranted about how Sweden never had problems with crime until so many immigrants turned up.

Maybe that was why it was going through my head, even though I figured
Mads's friends were as blasé about race as he was. Maybe it was just because I was out of practice with meeting my partner's friends for the first time. The last time I'd done it was when Niklas and I first met. And it had been a trial by fire, since the very first person I met was his ex-wife. And it was a nightmare. She insulted me, insinuated I was the reason her marriage fell apart when she and Niklas had been divorced for a few years before we even met. It made me gun shy of meeting his other friends, but I did because he wanted me to and, it didn't help that they were also Karolina's friends.

BOOK: Maybe Baby
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