Lina sat up in bed, still dazed with sleep, her red hair in a cloud around her head. She gave them a big smile and looked with delight at the presents. She was childishly excited about receiving gifts and started with the ones from Petra and Nils: a book, nail polish, and a calendar with cute firefighters holding kittens. Lina had been in love once before, with a firefighter. The children liked to tease her about her weakness for men in uniforms. She saved the present from her husband for last. Knutas watched his wife with anticipation. He’d had trouble coming up with something, but then a brilliant idea had occurred to him. There was one thing that he knew she really wanted. In spite of countless diets and halfhearted attempts to start exercising, she hadn’t managed to lose any weight. Consequently, he had filled a box with everything that might help her out: a year’s membership to Gym 1 in Visby, a jump rope and weights for exercising at home, and an introductory package to Weight Watchers.
When Lina realized what his present was, her expression darkened and red blotches appeared on her throat. Slowly she raised her head and met her husband’s eyes.
“What’s all this supposed to mean?” Her eyes narrowed.
“What do you mean?” he stammered uncertainly and then began listing all the advantages of his gift. “You wanted to slim down, so here’s everything you need. If you don’t have time to go to the gym, you can work out at home, and Weight Watchers has a meeting for new members on Tuesday at Save School. Plus you get a personal trainer for the first five times at the gym, so you’ll learn how to use the machines correctly.”
Knutas pointed eagerly at the brochure that was attached to the gift card.
“So you think I’m fat? That I’m not attractive anymore? Is that why you’re giving me all these things? Because you want me to be more buff?”
Lina sat bolt upright in bed, and her voice rose to a falsetto. Startled, the children looked from one parent to the other.
“But you’re always talking about wanting to lose weight. I just wanted to help you out.”
“And you think this is the sort of thing that I’d want for my birthday? To be reminded how fat I am? Can’t you at least let me enjoy my day?”
Now she was shouting and she had tears in her eyes. The children decided to leave the room.
Knutas lost his temper.
“What the hell is this? First you go on and on about weighing too much, and then when I give you things to help you lose a few pounds, you get mad. What the hell is that all about?”
He stomped downstairs and started banging the breakfast dishes around. Then he shouted to Lina, “Just ignore the whole thing. I’ll take everything back. Forget all about it!”
He called to the children, “Here’s breakfast, for anyone who wants it!”
“And what about you? Have you ever taken a look at yourself?” Lina yelled from upstairs. “I could buy you an arm exerciser for Christmas. And maybe some Viagra-that wouldn’t hurt!”
Knutas didn’t bother to reply. He could hear Lina still muttering angrily to herself upstairs. Sometimes he got really fed up with her hot temper.
The children came downstairs and ate their cornflakes in silence. Knutas spilled coffee on the tablecloth, but he didn’t care. He looked at Petra and Nils. All three of them shook their heads in agreement. None of them could understand Lina’s reaction.
“Go upstairs and talk to Mamma,” said Petra after a while. “This is her birthday, after all.”
Knutas sighed but followed his daughter’s advice. Fifteen minutes later he had persuaded his wife that she wasn’t at all fat, that he loved her just the way she was, and that she wasn’t the slightest bit overweight. No, she wasn’t.
She was afraid of him. It started when he discovered the cuts.
They had done it again, in their secret place. The sexual act was a torment for her. Pain and disgust in a violent combination. It was as if she took pleasure in punishing herself. When he was done and lay next to her, gasping, he took hold of her wrist.
“What’s this?” he said, sitting up on the sofa.
“Nothing.”
She pulled her hand away.
He grabbed both of her hands and held them out.
“Were you trying to kill yourself?”
“No,” she said, ashamed. “I just cut myself a little.”
“What the hell for? Are you crazy?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
She tried to pull her hands away, but she couldn’t.
“Did you cut yourself just for fun?”
“No, it’s just something that I do. I’ve done it for years. I can’t stop.”
“Are you out of your mind!”
“Maybe I am.”
She tried to laugh it off, but the laugh got caught in her throat. Fear was blocking the way.
“You can’t keep doing this-you know that, don’t you? What if someone finds out? Your mother or a teacher at school or someone else? Then they’ll start asking a lot of questions. And you might not be able to keep quiet about us. They can manipulate you and coax you into talking. They might call in a bunch of psychologists and shit!”
His voice had gotten so loud that he was shouting. Saliva flew from his lips. He suddenly seemed dangerous, unpredictable. She drew the blanket tightly around her and watched him anxiously.
“No one is going to notice,” she objected quietly.
“That’s what you think. It’s just a matter of time before someone sees those cuts. I forbid you to do it again. Do you hear me?”
He fixed his eyes on her. They were dark with anger.
“Okay, I promise. I’ll stop.”
He shook his head and went into the bathroom. She stayed on the sofa, unable to move as her panic grew. When he came back he had calmed down. He sat down next to her and stroked her arm.
“You can’t keep doing this,” he said in a gentle voice. “You might really hurt yourself. I’m worried about you. Don’t you realize that?”
“Yes,” she said. Tears were stinging her eyes.
“Now, now, honey,” he consoled her. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I was shocked when I saw those cuts, and I’m afraid of losing you. So I don’t want to see any more of this, okay?”
He put his hand under her chin and looked her deep in the eyes.
“Promise me, my little princess.”
She shuddered inside but nodded obediently.
In the car on the way back, she was convinced that she would never agree to see him again. In her mind she went over and over how she would phrase the words. She practiced the lines like a broken record.
He stopped a block away from her building, and turned off the engine. He wanted her to come and sit in the front seat for a last embrace before they parted. Lately he had made her sit in the back because he was afraid they might be seen.
When he had his nose pressed between her breasts, she gathered her courage.
“I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.”
Slowly he raised his head.
“What did you say?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore. We have to stop this.”
His eyes grew dark and his voice turned icy.
“Why are you saying this?”
“Because I don’t want to see you anymore,” she stammered. “I just don’t want to.”
“What the hell are you saying?” he snarled. “Don’t want to! What are you talking about? What do you mean by ‘don’t want to’? It’s you and me!”
“But I don’t want to meet anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
Now she just wanted to get out of the car. His aggressive tone scared her. She tried to open the car door.
“You little bitch. Who the hell do you think you are?”
He threw himself at her and grabbed her hard by the arms. With his lips pressed close to her ear, he snarled, “Do you think you can just stop seeing me? You better be damn careful, because you’re treading on thin ice. Don’t think you can just start setting the terms. I’ll fix things so that you never set foot in that stable again-do you understand? One word from me, and you won’t be able to show your face there ever again. Is that what you want?”