Maybe Tonight (9 page)

He walked over to the open balcony doors and stood at the threshold, letting the soft spring air tickle his skin. Down in the building’s courtyard, his neighbors were busy setting up the communal garden furniture and cleaning up the flowerbeds. Laney was down there too. He’d finally made her go out after she got in the way too many times, fretting over whether the wallpaper really was the right choice. Just as he was about to call out to her, she looked up and waved to him.

“Is everything ready?” she called up to him. She shaded her eyes with her hand.

“Yeah, it looks great. Come up and see.”

Mads headed back inside. Their bed was against the focal wall, already remade with fresh new linens. The tufted armchair he’d reupholstered for Laney waited by the balcony doors. The turquoise velvet seemed to glow in the shaft of spring sunlight.

It didn’t take long for Laney’s footfalls to echo in the stairwell and then for the front door to creak open. Mads grinned. She bounded down the hall like a child who’d waited far too long for a promised present. She gasped as soon as she saw the bedroom.

“Mads, this looks amazing!” She launched onto him, wrapped her arms and legs around him. He caught her and kissed her long and hard, loving how she tasted, how she felt in his arms. “It finally feels like our proper home.”

They’d sold his old loft and bought a bigger apartment in the same building. The new apartment had three bedrooms–Laney insisted they needed a guest room in case Eddy or Jesper or even her Aunt Cecily wanted to come for a visit. And Liv needed a room too, though. It took some getting used to…remembering to go up to the second floor instead of veering off on the first floor, but Mads was slowly becoming more at home there. It helped that buying the new apartment took his mind off when Liv would come home. While Laney painted the nursery, he sanded and finished the floors or installed new lights or ripped out the old kitchen and, with Anton and Adam’s help, installed a new one. When Henrik was in town, he came by and helped as well, keeping Mads focused.

How many more days? That was what went through Mads’s mind every morning when he and Laney went to the hospital to visit Liv. Her lungs were getting stronger. She was no longer in the artificial ventilator but the doctor and midwife thought she needed to be under observation a bit longer.

“We don’t want to send her home too early,” Dr. Søndergaard reminded them. “We want her lungs to be strong and healthy when she finally goes home with you.”

That morning, when Mads left Laney in the preemie lounge and went in search of coffee for them, he was lost in thought. Just the night before, Anoushka had called him and said her husband loved the bedroom set he’d designed for Lida so much that they wanted to commission him to design a new table and chairs for their dining room.

He’d accepted the commission and was thinking just then about what sort of wood would best suit the ideas he wanted to present to Anoushka and her husband. And when Anoushka found out about Liv, she’d come by with flowers and a pashmina for Laney and a cashmere receiving blanket for the baby. Strange how the world worked, Mads mused as he passed the nurses’ station. He didn’t even notice Nurse Gudrun gesturing at him. Oak…he was thinking…or if he could find some really good pieces of teak…or ash.

“Mads Rasmussen, snap out of it! I have news for you!”

He jolted himself back to the present and looked around. Nurse Gudrun was chuckling at him and shaking her head.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I was thinking about a commission.”

“Well, I have news that will please you and your wife!” She always insisted on calling Laney his wife, though she knew they were not married…not yet.

She came around to the other side of the station and walked with him to the elevator. “Dr. Søndergaard says your little girl can go home on Friday.”

“Are you sure? I mean…really? Finally?”

She nodded and clapped his shoulder. “Very sure. It’s noted on her charts. Friday afternoon discharge.”

“And she’s fine…?”

“Your little girl is as right as rain, Mads. So I hope you have everything ready at home.” Nurse Gudrun gave him a reassuring hug and then, as she headed back to her station, reminded him, “All she really needs is TLC from you and your wife and she’ll be fine.

When he returned with their coffee, Laney and Liv had fallen asleep together in their favorite armchair in the lounge. It was strategically placed by a window and overlooked the park behind the hospital. A canopy of green treetops against a perfectly blue sky made up their view.

He set the cups of coffee on the side table by the chair and gently extracted Liv from Laney’s arms.  She’d grown so much during these three months of being in the hospital. Though she was still tiny compared to other babies, the midwife and nurses were adamant that she’d soon catch up. Her arms and legs were filling out, and her tummy was round and soft. Even her coloring had improved over the last few weeks. After weeks of her skin looking ashen, it now shone golden brown. when she was first born, her hair was nothing more than sparse wisps but now it grew in abundant, glossy curls. Sometimes Mads thought he detected tiny traces of his mother in Liv, other times she was the perfect blend of he and Laney.

He hummed to her and she let out a small sigh in her sleep. Her tiny fist pressed into his cheek.

But as held her and pressed butterfly kisses to the top of her head, all he cared about was that in just three days, she would be home with them.

They could begin their journey in life together as a family.

Kim Golden is a native of Philadelphia, PA. She is the author of
The Melanie Chronicles
,
Linger: a short story, Choose Me: a novella, Snowbound
and
Maybe Baby
. She lives and works in Stockholm, Sweden. Find out more about Kim, her writing and her latest NaNoWrimo project at
kim-golden.com
, or what she’s reading at
kimtalksbooks.com
.

If you enjoyed reading
Maybe Tonight
, please drop Kim a line at
[email protected]
or write a review on the site where you purchased it and
Goodreads
.

There are so many people I need to thank who helped
Maybe Baby & Maybe Tonight
 become a reality.

First of all, I’d like to thank my ever patient husband, who puts up with my general moodiness and my ramblings about plot, characterization and annoying hypothetical questions. You know you’re my muse. You always will be.

To Kim Kane, thank you for listening to me ramble about Laney, Mads and Niklas for close to a year and never getting bored with it. And thanks for letting me read the naughty bits to you in public—do you think we shocked those Swedish ladies who were eavesdropping? You are the best writing buddy a girl could have!

To the Matera Brainstormers, I don’t know what I would do without all of you. You’ve helped me so many times when I was stuck, when I was muddled. I am so glad to have you all in my life. It’s amazing what intensive brainstorming sessions fueled by Italian coffee and long lunches with lots of wine and plenty of fabulous food can bring forth.

To Sussi Lindebjerg Malek, I am so grateful for you help with the Danish phrases. Thank you for making sure Mads didn’t sound like an old-fashioned fuddy-duddy. You are a lifesaver, sweetie! Mange tak!

To the chicas of the NaNoWriMo Chick Lit group, thanks so much for cheering me on during NaNoWriMo 2012. Even when I fell behind by 15,000 words due to a bad case of the flu, you kept encouraging me to write on. Somehow, I finished a day early and the result is this novel. You are brilliant!

To Lesley, Dean, Grace & Marley at Caserma Carina, thank you for being such splendid hosts! I revised many scenes for Maybe Baby while sitting in your lovely garden and enjoying a glass or two of Verdicchio di Matelica. Looking forward to writing another book while staying at your lovely country house.

To the staff at the Hotel Kong Arthur in Copenhagen, the idea for Maybe Baby came to me while sitting in the hotel courtyard one summer evening. It was the perfect locale for the start of Laney and Mads’s love affair. Thanks for making every stay so comfortable and so inspiring. And yes, you do serve the world’s best gin & tonics. Tord swears by them.

To Christina Plöen, thank you so much for being such a wonderful friend, for our evening chats at Tegnérs Gömstället and now Knut, and for inviting Tord and me to Yngsjö every year. Whenever I stay there, I end up feeling so inspired—it must be the great company and that wonderful view.

To the fantastic team at Black Firefly Production, I think it was serendipity that brought us together. There I was trying to figure out just how the heck I was going to find beta readers, a cover designer, an editor, a proofreader and someone who could whip the formatting into shape and then Facebook made sure our paths crossed.  You made the entire process so easy and the help you’ve given me has been absolutely amazing.

And finally, to my mom, Barbara Golden, who will probably shake her head when she reads this book and wonder why her middle child writes about women doing naughty things. I know it’s not really your type of book, Mom, but you were the one who kept encouraging me even when you wished I was doing something more practical. Love you!

Take a sneak peek at
Maybe Tomorrow
, the next book in the
Maybe Baby
series!

It ended just as quickly as it began.

He came home and said he didn’t love me anymore, didn’t think we had any future, not together. And as the words rushed out of his mouth, I stood very still, my arms folded across my chest, and waited for the truth to finally come.

I knew my lips had pulled into a thin, grim line. I was biting in the words I wanted to spit out at him. “Who have you fucked this time?” or “Can’t you keep your cock in your pants?” but I held back and focused on the splotch of red wine on his shirt and told myself this was okay. I didn’t need him to feel complete. I don’t think I’d ever felt complete with him. He was just a boy pretending to be a man. A beautiful boy, but a boy all the same.

“Say something, Eddy.” Andreas was nervous. He kept standing, pacing, and then throwing himself back into the same armchair. Under the tan his cheeks and neck burned red.

“What exactly do you want me to say?”

“You must have something you want to say. I just told you I don’t love you anymore.”

“Fine, I think we should sell the apartment.”

“What?”

“Actually, it was mostly my money that went into this apartment,” I surmised. “My down payment of…half a million kronor was it? I was the one who sold her apartment so we could move in together.”

“You want to talk money?”

“Well, we’re splitting up, aren’t we?” I sank into the armchair opposite his and crossed my legs. I kept my voice even and light. “Since you don’t love me and we have no future, why should we still share this apartment?”

“We bought it together-”

“How much money did you bring to the table?”

Andreas licked his lips and shrugged. He mumbled an “I don’t know” but wouldn’t make eye contact with me. We both knew the truth.

“Well, I hope your new girlfriend has a place you can move into.”

“What makes you think there is someone else?”

“With you, there’s always someone else. I recognize the pattern, sweetie.”

It never changed with him. We’d had a good run

these last few months but I’d sensed he would get restless again. And this time I wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

“Eddy, we can’t just…”

“Yes, actually, we can. You remember the last time you cheated on me? You said you would move out if it happened again.”

“But, Eddy, be realistic.”

“I am being realistic. And that’s exactly what I want you to do. Move. And we’ll sell this place. You put thirty percent into it, and that’s exactly what you’ll get.”

He shook his head and then launched out of the chair and stormed out of the room.

The knot in my stomach unraveled slowly. But the bitter taste of another failed relationship…that took even longer to disappear.

When he left, the apartment seemed to breathe out a long sigh of relief, as if it had been waiting for this very moment. In a few days it would be Midsummer and the evening sky was still full of light.

I wandered through every room, making sure he’d taken everything that was his. I didn’t want to wake to another day of being reminded that Andreas and I had shared this apartment.

I kept telling myself I was okay with this, and I was. I didn’t want to have to grin and bear it again. But there was that nagging little voice that I could just barely hear over the super positive “I am a strong, independent woman” mantra on repeat in my mind–that naggy, snarky little bitch who reveled in reminding me, “This is the third time you’re the one left alone.”

“Shut up, bitch..” I muttered.

“Sorry?”

I’d forgotten about the real estate agent, who was also going from room to room casting an eye on all the renovations we’d done as she calculated the apartment’s market value. She flashed a tight little smile at me. It was almost as tight as the skirt and blouse she wore.

“I’m just talking to myself,” I assured her and then reached for my vibrating iPhone.

Another call from Andreas. I pressed reject and set my phone back on the windowsill.

“Well, your apartment will definitely be a hot commodity,” she said. “An apartment this size and in this neighborhood…it’ll fetch a pretty penny.”

I nodded. I already knew this. It was one of the reasons I’d convinced Andreas that we should move to this part of Kungsholmen. From the living room and dining room, there was a perfect view of Norr Mälarstrand and the glittering waters of Lake Mälaren. We had a balcony that stretched the entire length of the apartment and, with all of the plants and flowers in bloom it would look inviting enough that even the most jaded Stockholmer would want to live here.

“How much do you think it’s worth?”

“We’re looking at…eight million kronor at least, and that’s before the bidding would start.”

“So we should start with an asking price of eight million?”

“At least.” Her blonde head bobbed up and down excitedly. “Five rooms…a king’s balcony, two walking closets…”

“Walk-in closets,” I corrected.

“Sorry?”

“They’re not called walking closets. The closets don’t have legs. They can’t go anywhere.”

She clutched her iPad and barked out a nervous laugh. “Of course! Ha-ha! Whoever heard of a closet with feet!”

I put her out of her misery. “When can we say it’s on the market?”

“We can list it starting on Monday. Is that too soon?”

“Couldn’t we make it sooner?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s as soon as we can do it.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “Monday it is. And…if we get a good enough bid so that I can avoid any open house, that’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I want to sell this as quickly as possible.”

“What will you do then?”

Behind her was a framed vintage print of the Empire State Building. Andreas had hated it but it was the one image in the apartment that reminded me of home. And right now, I wished I was in the gritty, muggy, crowded embrace of home.

I smiled at Petra the perky real estate agent. “I’m moving back to New York.”

I signed the paperwork and Petra congratulated me on making the right choice of her real estate agency before she finally left.

I walked out onto the balcony and breathed in the lavender-scented air before any of the exhaust of passing cars drifted up to me. It was one of the perks of living on the top floor of the building. I would miss this view. I would miss this apartment but I couldn’t stay here. It was too big for one person and, even if I met someone else, I didn’t want them to walk into a place that had been the scene of so many arguments, of so much disappointment. It would surely taint any attempts I might make at starting over.

But New York. I could move back. There was nothing holding me in Stockholm anymore. Andreas and I had dissolved our business partnership as swiftly as we’d ended our relationship. I shivered and pulled my sweater closer around me. If Laney were still here, I would have considered staying. But she was in Copenhagen now, and she was so blissfully happy it was enough to make your teeth ring. I would have been super jealous if I didn’t love her so much.