“Hi. Hello there. How are you all?”
The phone was shaky in Olivia’s hand. She was newly tan and wearing her black bikini.
“We’re still on the beach here.” She aimed the phone at Josefin and Albin, who were packing sand into a bucket. “Say hi to Dad.”
“Hi to Dad,” the children chorused.
“Well, as you can see we’re just fine.” Olivia laughed. “You’re not on your way yet, though?”
“I went to the reception at the village hall for a bit, and when I got here I decided to tackle the pile of mail. And just now I realized that the bathroom faucet is dripping. But yes, I’m on my way. I wish I were there going for a swim with you all instead.”
“How was the funeral?”
“Mostly it was hot. But it felt good to be there, at least. Can youbelieve it was the same priest? Isidor. He’s still alive. He has to be a hundred years old.”
“Some people are like that,” Olivia said. “They don’t stop until they drop, because if they stop…”
“They drop,” Sander supplied.
“And your back was okay?”
“Sitting in a pew isn’t that hard. But that reminds me, I haven’t done my exercises today.”
Olivia turned away.
“Hey, Dad’s going to play worm again! Want to watch?”
The children hurried to the phone. Their little faces, sun-drenched and curious, filled the screen.
Sander smiled wearily.
“Otherwise you won’t do them,” Olivia pointed out.
Last spring, when the doctor explained what to do, Sander thought it sounded simple. You stand facing a wall, no more than a foot away. Then you stick out your neck like a vulture until the tip of your nose touches the wall. Then you sink down a little and look up at the ceiling, so your chin is touching the wall instead. Then you stick out your chest and keep moving, until your chest is the only part touching the wall.
It was harder than it looked.
Delighted, the kids threw themselves onto the sand and tried to imitate their father. Olivia showed him. He caught a glimpse of her feet, toes burrowed into the warm sand, the gold chain heavy and expensive around her ankle.
“It’s chaos here. So many people. But still one too few. We miss you.”
“I’m just going to grab a bite to eat and try to fix this faucet.”
“You’re not going to call a plumber?”
“If I do that, I’ll be here until school starts again. I’ll try to get this taken care of and then hit the road. Tell the beach I’ll see it soon.”
After they hung up, he walked through the house and into the bright living room, where the afternoon sun streamed across the floor.He opened the door and stepped onto the patio to take a lap of the yard.
Skavböke lingered inside Sander but it was here, in this house, with Olivia and his kids, where he belonged. That’s what he thought.
He worked on the stack of mail, bills and documents, forms that needed filling in. Then he dealt with the bathroom faucet. Sweaty, bent double in front of the sink, his back aching for real now, he took apart the handle. After quite some time he figured out that one of the rubber gaskets was cracked. He didn’t have a spare on hand and had to drive to Biltema out in Stenalyckan to buy a new one.
It was late by the time he finally finished and headed out the door. He had the car keys in hand when his phone rang again.
That’s when it happened.
“This is Jakob,” a voice said. Over the phone he sounded just like he had when he was eighteen. “Listen, I don’t know if you heard, but…”
