19

Henrik: Best Laid Plans

Asking Eddy to stop dating other people changed everything. Her ready acceptance of this changed it even more. I felt a little like a character from our favorite book, holding my life out to her and asking her to take it. We didn’t come right out and say it—that we’d taken our relationship to another level, but we both understood it.

When I came to New York, I rarely stayed in the hotel rooms the company booked for me. I preferred staying with Eddy, curling up on her sofa and eating Thai takeaway from paper containers while her kitten Sable nestled between us.

Now it was November, and I’d been back and forth to New York and left enough clothing behind that she commented during one our Skype calls that she’d had everything dry-cleaned, and it was hanging on my side of the closet.

“My side?” I joked, but I liked it. I liked that she was making space for me in her life and that she was so casual about it. “Have I got some drawer space too?”

“Mmm-hmm. Two drawers. One for your boxers and t-shirts. One for your socks.”

“Maybe I should give you some closet space too.”

“Maybe. If I come over for Christmas, I’ll have a lot of clothing with me…” her voice trailed off. I knew she was probably sitting on her sofa, her Macbook balanced on her knees while Sable fought for her attention. That such a small fluffy kitten could get into so much trouble…

“You thinking of staying?” I asked her. Was she beginning to change her mind about New York?

“A girl needs variety when she’s traveling. I don’t travel light.” I could hear the lightness in her tone, and it made me smile. “You do still want to spend Christmas with Alma, right?”

“I was thinking we could spend most of our time at the beach house, unless you want to be in town.”

“I’m easy. As long as we can spend time together, I don’t care where we are.”

“You know…you could always stay longer. Since you said Mimi is going to be in the Caribbean for a month and…”

“We still have clients to take care of, and someone has to do it while she’s lounging on a beach.” She said it almost too quickly, as if the words were tumbling over one another. “Besides, we’ve got two clients who are up for SAGs—”

“SAGs?”

“Screen Actors Guild Awards.” On the screen, Eddy yawned. It was late in Manhattan, and she’d had a long day already with demanding clients, but I didn’t want to end the call. I loved seeing her like this—no makeup, no ultra-stylish clothing. Just Eddy in her natural state with messy hair, a New York Rangers t-shirt and yoga pants. Her tuxedo cat draped over her shoulder.

“Eddy?”

“Hmm?”

“Whenever you want to come, there’s always a place for you here.”

Her smile was reward enough.

Fucking hell. I struggled out of bed and called out “Jeg kommer” to the moron who was hanging on my doorbell. I grabbed my bathrobe from the chair, shoved it on, and belted it as I jogged down the hall to the door. Let it not be Iben again was my only thought. She’d been making impromptu visits, claiming she thought she’d forgotten some of her things when she’d moved out, but it was too obvious she wanted to see if Eddy was still around. And I let her think she was. Iben liked the idea of having me as a back-up plan if things went south with Jonas, but for me, that would never happen. Whatever she and I had had was long over for good. Especially now that Eddy was in my life. But this time, when I opened the door, it wasn’t my nosey ex-girlfriend.

It was my cousin, Ragnar.

I welcomed him with a bear hug and clapped him on the back, “You get tired of the Swede?”

“More like she got tired of me,” he grumbled. “Can I stay here a few days? Hmm...well, it’ll probably be more like a few weeks.”

“Yeah, of course, come on in.” I helped him bring in his gear--a collection of mismatched suitcases, a guitar case, and an overstuffed duffel bag.

Once we got him set up in the guest room, I took a good look at him. Ragnar was younger than Mads and me by a good five or six years, but the fog of exhaustion and confusion surrounding him had aged him. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkled t-shirt and stained jeans...no, my usually meticulous cousin was not his usual self.

“So what gives, Ragnar?”

“Luisa kicked me out,” he said gruffly. He ran a shaky hand through his mussed-up hair. “Her exact words were ‘our relationship isn’t going anywhere’ and she told me to go back to Denmark.”

“That was harsh...” I pretended not to notice his cut lip or the fading traces of a black eye. Was Luisa seeing someone else already? And Ragnar was collateral damage? This would have to be discussed later over either breakfast or beers.

“Yeah, I thought so too.” Ragnar’s shoulders sagged. He looked like a man who needed a shower and sleep. “She’d already bought a train ticket to send me back here. Can you fucking believe it?”

“No... seriously, Ragnar. What happened with you and Luisa?”

“Hell if I know. I thought everything was fine. We’d just finished renovating the apartment. We were talking about how we could finally afford to take a real vacation now that we weren’t going to be spending our extra money on bathroom fixtures and tiles and kitchen appliances...and then she said we weren’t working out.”

“What about your job?”

“I’ll have to commute until I find something here.” Ragnar swore now. “Shit, Henrik. What am I going to do?”

“Get some sleep.” I wanted to do it anyway. Go back to bed then get up later and grab breakfast somewhere. “We’ll figure it out later.”

I clapped him on the shoulder and then left him to it. The cynical part of me muttered about resurrecting the Fuck Love beer and rant sessions, but it wouldn’t do my cousin much good—not when Mads was still in a besotted newlywed bubble, and I was….well, I had something going on with Eddy. I’d give Ragnar some room to breathe. He didn’t really need me to take care of him. And he was a little like Mads—he didn’t always say much; he needed time to himself to think things through.

Me? I needed sleep.

It took a few days to get used to having Ragnar here. He was never the most talkative person. If ever there was a Silent Scandinavian, it was him. But having him around, even if he created mounds of chaos in his wake, meant I never came home to an empty apartment.

Most evenings, I came home to find him making dinner and cleaning up whatever mess he'd managed to create during the day. Other times, he suggested we go out for a drink, and then he'd sit without saying much, or he'd ask me about "the American girl"--he'd heard about my relationship with Eddy through Mads and Farmor. He'd met her briefly at the wedding, but he hadn't stayed long since his then-girlfriend was insistent they had to take an early train back to Malmö in Sweden.

Whenever I asked him what he thought he'd do next, he shrugged and muttered vague replies that let me know he was still in a bad place, so I let him be.

When I told Eddy about my new living arrangements, she laughed and said, “As long as you’re not going out for any of those ‘Fuck Love’ drinking binges I’ve heard about.”

“Nothing like that,” I assured her. The weekend had finally come and, strangely, there’d been no need for me to be in New York. I missed her, but I held back from saying it. It did no good to admit it. We both endured the days and weeks we couldn’t be together. No point in making it worse. But tonight, as I stood at my kitchen island with only Eddy via a screen for company, I wished for nothing more than for my doorbell to ring and to be greeted with her standing at the threshold, waiting for me to welcome her home.

“Be kind to him, Henrik.” In New York, it was still early afternoon. She and Sable were on the couch. Sometimes, the kitten’s insistent mewing and a black and white paw dominated all I heard and saw.

“I am.” I understood what Ragnar was going through. He was lost. Sometimes, he didn’t even seem to know what he was doing in Copenhagen. He’d glance around as if he hadn’t a clue how he’d ended up on my doorstep. “Mads keeps him busy at the workshop. I make sure he’s not just moping. We're looking out for him.”

“I know. You’re one of the good guys. It’s why I love you.”

We both waited. She knitted her eyebrows together, and then a startled smile curved her lips. The world hadn’t imploded, but inside me, all the stars collided. She’d said those words, even if she hadn’t meant for them to slip out.

And me? I grinned at her and pretended nothing extraordinary had happened. “Yeah, well, as long as he learns to load the dishwasher soon, I’ll be happy.”

“Henrik...be nice.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Sometimes,” she teased. “When will you come back to New York?”

“Next weekend.” I made the decision without bothering to consult my calendar. I wanted to be near her again.

Work took me to New York again. Even if it hadn't, I would have found an excuse to go. Being away from Eddy grated at me. A few days with her was better than none at all.

In New York, the lingering summer heat had finally disappeared. The leaves in the trees in Central Park had finally gone yellow and begun to drift to the ground, covering it in golden splendor. I liked the city in autumn. I never understood how people could stand being here in summer when the heat and humidity were so oppressive. Now, when the air had cooled and the sky was softly blue, New York was at its most beautiful. I’d managed to get a week off from work—no distracting meetings, just lazy mornings with Eddy and Sable. That morning, we’d both woken early, craving a diner breakfast and endless cups of coffee.

Eddy in New York was so different from the Eddy I'd met in Copenhagen. In Denmark, her confidence sparkled, but here she seemed so uncertain. I was fairly certain the years away had left her a little out of step. She'd been so insistent on taking me to a diner she remembered from her student days.

We walked around in circles for what felt like hours. The entire time, Eddy insisted, "It should be around here...I think I just mixed up the street name."

I didn't care. I was happy to go wherever she chose, so long as we got some food eventually. After about two hours, she finally gave up and called Mimi, who reminded her that the diner had closed in the days following the September 11th attacks. She recommended another place nearby that was another of their old haunts. We went there, but Eddy seemed out of sorts from the moment we found it.

"You okay?" I asked her once we'd ordered our breakfasts.

She shrugged. "Nothing feels the same."

She picked at her food once it arrived. I tried to remember if I'd felt this way when I'd returned to Copenhagen, but the city hadn't changed as dramatically as New York had, and Eddy had been away a hell of a lot longer. Instead of placating her, I pulled her close, glad we were sitting on the same side of the banquette so I could kiss her and hold her. I hadn't expected her to burst into tears. I just her held her until the tears stopped flowing.

My strong, sweet girl...it was all I could do.