“My parents were members,” he explained. “Mom, two dads. Actually, one was my father, and the other one was just this asshole who showed up sometimes. I didn’t know who he was to them until I was sixteen and they told me about the society in secret. They waited until they were fairly certain I’d be invited to be a member too, then they explained the man who kept showing up and referring to himself as my father wasn’t their asshole friend/sperm donor the way I thought. He was their husband.”
“He was a member, married, but you didn’t see him?”
Eric leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “He was anadvokat—a lawyer—in Sweden. He won a case against one of our banks that was laundering money for people in the Balkans.” Eric shrugged. “I don’t think he cared about stopping money laundering, or any of the other crimes he prosecuted. He simply liked to fight. To win.
“I know Nils didn’t care about me, or my parents. He would show up in Copenhagen—that’s where I was born and where I grew up—for some holidays, say something cruel, sometimes sayhe was my father and I’d get upset because he was a stranger. They’d fight, and he’d leave.”
“How often did he visit?”
“Three or four times a year. I wish I could have pretended he didn’t exist, but…” Eric rolled his head to look at her. “He was my biological father.”
“You had a DNA test?”
Eric snorted. “No need. I look like Nils, not like the man who was my real father, Lethabo. Lethabo was Black South African. He studied physics at the University of Cape Town. Came to Geneva to work on his doctorate, then got a job with a research group based out of Copenhagen. He was recruited just after he finished the doctorate work, and placed in a trinity with my mother and Nils.”
“Genetics are odd,” she said. “Just because you look like Nils may not mean…”
She trailed off as he shook his head. “Lethabo wasn’t able to have kids. I don’t remember why, but they knew I was Nils’s. I always knew Lethabo wasn’t my biological father because of a medical issue that prevented him from having kids. Once I learned about biological parents versus real parents, I realized Nils must be my father the way he said. Since I didn’t know about the trinity marriage, I decided he must have been the sperm donor, though we never talked about it.”
“That’s a lot for a child to try to piece together.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have cared as much if he hadn’t been such an asshole. Every time he called himself my father, I got upset because I didn’t want to be like him. He really was a dick. I think that’s why I’m an only child. My mother could only bear to sleep with that asshole once.”
Imagining Nils—cold and cruel asshole that he was—even kissing his brilliant, kind mother was enough to make Eric feel ill.
“I think they didn’t know, not really, until after I was born.”
“Know what?”
“How much of an asshole he was. Otherwise, I doubt they would have let him name me, or given me his last name instead of my mother’s.”
There was a moment of silence before she asked, “What do you mean they didn’t know until after you were born? What happened?”
“He stole me.”
Nikolett jerked up. “What?” She tried to reach for him, apparently having forgotten about the restraints. “Take these off.”
Eric smiled lazily. “No.”
“Fine.” Nikolett bent, grabbing the end of the Velcro with her mouth.
“If you take them off, I won’t tell you the rest of the story.”
Slowly, she lowered her hand, glowering at him in a way that only widened his smile.
“How did Nils steal you?”
“In Denmark, Sweden, most of Scandinavia, babies nap in their strollers outside. The cold air, being outside, it’s good for them.”
She nodded. “I’ve seen pictures of babies bundled up until only a tiny bit of their face shows. They look like fluffy blankets with a face.”
He laughed at the description.
“This is how my father told the story—he and my mother were sitting in a café. I was napping outside in my stroller with all the other fluffy blanket babies. They finished, went outside, and I was gone.
“Kidnapping children it just…doesn’t happen. When they couldn’t find me after checking everywhere, they called the police and it was instantly national news. Maybe the Danishpeople would have to change their whole way of life to protect the children.” Eric shook his head. “They call Nils to tell him, to ask him to come and be with them and help them look. He tells them he’s in Copenhagen and he has me.”
“He walked up to the café, grabbed your stroller, and walked away?”
