I assume it’s a practical joke—a bit of Nordic whimsy to brighten these dark winter days. But then it dawns on me that she hasn’t had a drink since she’s been home. She keeps grinning and waits for me to respond.
“Seriously?” I say, my disbelief quickly shifting from shock to joy to fear and finally to wonder. I can feel my face move through each emotion.
“Yes! Crazy, right? Obviously it wasn’t part of my plan, but I’m so happy. And when I told Nils, he didn’t flinch. He is totally on board. Maybe even more excited than I am.”
“Oh my god,” I say, as it sinks in. “Oh mygod!But how… Where… What happens now? Are you going to stay in Stockholm?”
“Fuck yes,” says Nina without hesitation. “I mean, for now. I’ll have the baby there, so it can be an EU citizen and I can get that sweet, sweet Swedish maternity leave. And with Mom in London, it just makes sense. She can visit when I need help. It’s a good setup. Somehow life suddenly feels… easy.”
Again, I understand her joy. After four years of caring for our father, with very little in the way of medical or government support—because that’s not really America’s thing—she is now reaping the benefits of a system that actually wants to help its citizens thrive. Swedes don’t need to win the lottery; they already have.
I hug Nina as tears start to well in my eyes. I’m thrilled for her, but sad to feel like I am losing her again, this time in a more permanent way. Initially, we thought she would only be in Sweden for a year, maybe two. Now, it sounds like it’s indefinite.
“It’s still really early. I’m seven weeks,” she says, also tearing up. We both look down and admire her nonexistent bump. “And I want to tell Dad, but I don’t know if he’ll get it. Honestly, it seems like he doesn’t really know who I am. Like he vaguely recognizes me, but he doesn’t know why I’m here.”
“Yeah,” I say. “He acts that way toward me, too. I think it’s just anew phase that we’re in.” Then it hits me like lightning. “Wait, Nina. I think he already knows you’re pregnant. On some level, I think he knows.”
“What do you mean? How?”
“A few weeks ago, we were talking about you, and he said something about your being pregnant. And about how humans gestate for three months.”
“What?”
“And when we were shopping last week, he wanted to buy a pair of tiny socks ‘for the baby.’ Holy shit, Nina. I told you!”
Her eyes widen. Maybe this is the thing that will finally convince her I’m right about his psychic abilities.
“I know you think I’m insane,” I go on, “but I swear he’s tapped into some larger consciousness. He knew you were pregnant before you even got here, and I had no idea until five minutes ago! You’ve got to admit that’s weird.”
“Okay, I’ll admit it: you’re unusually dense.”
I make a semi-amused face, and she relents. “Okay, fine. It is weird.”
“Thank you.” I’m relieved to finally earn this acknowledgment. This seems like as good a time as any to tell her about the day when Dad saw Seth at the boathouse, and about my conversation with Carl and Paula on Thanksgiving that validated my suspicions. I divulge everything in one long torrent.
When I’m done explaining, Nina is silent.
I wait for her to be fascinated and maybe even impressed, but suddenly, her face hardens and she seems annoyed. “I thought you said you were done with that divination stuff.” She sounds stern, like the Nina of yore. Pre-Nils Nina. The Nina who had to keep everyone else on track.
“Iamdone with it,” I say. “I’m just trying to fill you in on what has been going on. I can’t help it if he keeps having premonitions.”
“But you’re encouraging it, Cricket.” I must look crestfallen, because she softens her tone. “Look, I know life gets boring here, especially in the winter. And I know you really believe Dad has superpowers,or whatever. But this is overboard. He’s not channeling Carl’s dead mother. He’s not communing with Seth. This isn’tBeetlejuice.”
I want to continue to argue my case, but it’s clear Nina doesn’t want to take this mental leap with me, so I stand down. “You’re right. I guess I just got carried away. It felt like something to do.”
“I get it. But that’s what Netflix is for.”
“Right.”
“It’s just too confusing for him, to play these games. You shouldn’t encourage him when he’s seeing things that aren’t there.” Nina pauses, then adds: “You know, he’s lost a lot of ground since I left.”
This final comment feels like an indictment of my ability to properly take care of our dad. Suddenly my confidence is shaken. Maybe Nina can see things more clearly from her new vantage point than I can from within this closed system. My eyes fill with tears. Maybe I really have been imagining that our dad is a seer to try to keep him vital, relevant. Maybe I’m just trying to ward off his earthly decline by assigning him an otherworldly power.
Nina pulls me in for a gentle hug. “I know this is hard—being a caregiver. Believe me, I know.” This would be the perfect opportunity for her to throw in anI told you so. But instead, she surprises me: “You’re doing such a good job.”
“I am?” It feels like getting a positive performance review from a hard-to-please boss.
“Yes,” says Nina, rubbing my shoulders. “I mean, you do things a little differently thanIwould, but Dad seems happy. You’ve really stepped up, and I’m proud of you.”
