But this was not that time.
Deep inside I knew that the panic attacks and the fear of death wouldn’t let up until I had talked to Bjørnar about one last thing. It was just so hard to find a time and place that seemed right for a conversation that could potentially usher in the final doom. Which would be the impetus for my transformation into the cough-syrup lady.
So I kept my eyes and ears open and bided my time, waiting for the right moment.
Which turned out to be five minutes before Bjørnar was supposed to take Ebba to soccer practice.
I stood outside the bathroom, pounding on the door.
“Can I come in?” I yelled.
“I’m on the toilet in here. Can’t you use the other bathroom?”
“No.”
Five minutes later he opened the door.
“You know I don’t like it when someone stands outside the door, waiting like that.”
“I wasn’t doing that!”
“Yes, you were. I could hear you breathing.”
“Fine. I was. But I have to talk to you about something.”
There was a pounding in my chest.
“I’m late. We’re training for the merit badge. Everyone has to be able to do it.”
“Yeah, but just hold on for a second. I did something.”
He sighed.
“Don’t sigh! That distracts me.”
“OK.”
“I did something dumb.”
“And…?”
“And the dumb thing was… You know how I went to Saint Petersburg?”
“Yes?”
“Right when we weren’t doing so well?”
“Yes?”
“Well, not that we weren’t doing so well, the two of us. Although actually we weren’t doing that well, but obviously I knew that was because of all the stuff with the house, that we hadn’t sold it yet and we were just so busy and… It was a stressful time and everything was so dark and gloomy and depressing. And then I got sick while I was there and I was taking some pretty strong medicine. You know, that cough syrup I told you about.”
“Are you going to get to the point anytime soon?”
“Well, it’s just that I’m really not looking forward to this…”
I waved my hands around in the air.
He looked at me.
“OK, I’m starting to get a little concerned. What did you do?”
I inhaled. Exhaled. Closed my eyes and clenched my flailing hands.
“I kissed a Russian! Or—I kissed him one time. And then he kissed me. One time. I’m sorry! It wasn’t anything more than that, I promise! One kiss. Well, or two. Kind of depends on how you count. It didn’t mean anything, but I’m very, very sorry and I’ll never do anything like that again!”
Everything was still for a moment, completely still.
For a moment, my heart quit beating.
And I knew this was it.
This was the awful thing.
I tried to think positive thoughts, but it didn’t work.
Now the seams ripped apart.
Now it was over.
Bjørnar started to laugh.
I opened my eyes.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry. You’re just so unexpected. I thought you were going to tell me something terrible.”
“So you don’t want to get divorced?”
“Divorced? No, you know there’s no way we could afford that.”
“But you want a divorce? You feel betrayed?”
“No.”
My heart was beating; I could breathe. There was an effervescent sensation in my chest.
I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him.
“Anyway, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll never do it again. Like I said.”
“Fine. It’s not cool to go around kissing other people. Certainly not Russians, anyway. What were you thinking? Was it Stockholm syndrome?”
“I didn’t think of that. A mix of Stockholm syndrome and being hopped up on cough syrup, maybe.”
“Well, I suppose we all have our skeletons in the closet.”
“Our what? Wait, have you kissed someone else?”
“One time.”
“When?”
He blushed a little.
“At the Christmas party.”
“What Christmas party?”
“The office party at the Høyfjell Hotel. My first year out of law school. I had a little too much to drink. And I kissed Merethe from work.”
“One time?”
“One time.”
“Just that?”
“Just that.”
I thought this over. Mulled over what had happened. Not a bomb blast, really. Not Nagasaki.
Actually balance, equilibrium.
Yin and yang. Harry and Sally. Hall and Oates.
A gift instead of a disaster.
So completely unexpected.
I kissed him. It was a kiss that had been repeated many times. It wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t different. It had the same warmth, taste, feeling, and consistency as the year before and ten years before that.
It was a kiss I felt at home in. Which was home.
Maybe I didn’t need to be scared it would disappear. Maybe I could just be grateful. For right now.
“Are you guys going to suck face all day or what?” Ebba was in full soccer regalia, holding out her cell phone. “Come on, we’re late. Jenny’s standing by the front door waiting. You said we were going to give her a ride. Could you get a move on?”
“I’m coming,” Bjørnar said. “Just had to do a little kissing with your mother first.”
“How much do you love me?” I asked him.
“Six percent.”
“Six percent?”
“Well, twenty-seven then.”
“Twenty-seven percent? You love me ninety-seven percent, right? At least?”
He and Ebba walked out the door.
“To be or not to be,” I called after him.
And as the door closed, he responded, “That is the question.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J.S. Drangsholt lives in Norway with her husband and three daughters. She is an associate professor of literature at the University of Stavanger and has previously published one novel.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Tara F. Chace has translated more than twenty-five novels from Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish. She earned her PhD in Scandinavian languages and literature from the University of Washington and lives in Seattle with her family.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 by Tiden Norsk Forlag, an imprint of Gyldendal Norsk Forlag AS
English translation copyright © 2017 by Tara F. Chace
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Previously published as Ingrid Winters makeløse mismot by Tiden Norsk Forlag in 2015. Translated from Norwegian by Tara F. Chace. Published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2017.
Published by AmazonCrossing, Seattle
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonCrossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503942615
ISBN-10: 1503942619
Cover design by Faceout Studio