A Nearly Normal Family(109)

Adam had imagined an entirely different life for himself than what he was now stuck with. The images he had created of his future and his family were diametrically opposed to reality, and his increasing need for control was, in that sense, nothing more than a desperate but potent method of maintaining his dream of the life he had pictured for himself. But just because I understood what had happened didn’t mean I had any intention of accepting it.

Adam crossed the line one night when he forced his way into Stella’s room after smelling smoke through the door. I had just flown in from Bromma on the last flight of the day, and I landed in our kitchen around midnight, a total wreck.

“You have to let Stella make her own mistakes. Weren’t you ever a teenager? You are violating her privacy.”

Adam was pacing back and forth, muttering in despair. When I saw him in that state, I made up my mind.

“I love you,” I said, putting my arms around his neck. “I’m going to spend more time at home with both of you.”

“I’m sorry,” said Adam. “It’s all my fault. You don’t have to…”

I battled back my guilt.

“I’ve been working too much,” I said, promising to decrease my hours. “There are things I can take care of from home.”

“I have to try to calm down,” Adam said. “To talk to Stella without losing my temper.”

“Count to ten first.”

He smiled and we kissed.



* * *



On Monday I sat down with my phone as soon as Adam had left for work. Naturally, I was flattered by Michael’s attention, but I had never fooled myself into thinking that it would lead to anything but brief moments of self-fulfillment. I knew Michael well enough to understand that we would hardly have a future together, or even anything exclusive.

He sounded neither surprised nor disappointed when I called to tell him that from that point on, our relationship must be kept strictly professional. I have to confess that my heart ached when he ended both the conversation and the relationship with the phrase “no problem.”

As I hung up, I collapsed on the kitchen table. A dam was crumbling down. My tears were a cleansing bath as the drawn-out tension was finally released. I never noticed Stella walking in. Suddenly I just felt her hand on my shoulder.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“God, you scared me! How long have you been standing there?”

Stella stared at me.

I knew she had heard everything.

“It’s not what you think. It was work. That was Michael, my boss.”

I reached for her, but she turned on her heel and walked back through the hall and out the door. I ran after her, my heart in my throat, and just as she took her first step down the stairs I threw my arms around her from behind and pulled her close.

“I love you, Stella.”

We held each other for a long time, and as sad as it sounds, I hadn’t felt so close to my daughter for years. I was bubbling with grand words and promises, but I couldn’t manage to produce a sound. And in that moment, all we needed was to be close.

A few months later, I left Michael Blomberg’s firm for a different job closer to home. Things slowly improved between Adam and me, and Stella seemed more well-adjusted. She and Amina soon found their way back to one another, and I started to think of what had happened as a phase, a rough patch—sure, it may have come close to breaking us, but we had made it through and in the long run, with any luck, it would make our family stronger.

Little did I know that the real catastrophe was waiting around the corner.





101


Prosecutor Jansdotter twirls her pen as she waits for Amina to blow her nose yet again.

“So you went down to the beach with Chris Olsen and you kissed again?”

“Although I was starting to have doubts,” Amina says. “I felt horrible about what I was doing.”

“And this was the same night Chris Olsen died? What time could it have been?”

Amina shrugs.

“Stella means the world to me,” she says, as if she didn’t hear the prosecutor’s question. “I’d never let a guy come between us.”

“But you kissed him?” Jansdotter says. “What time was this?”

“I regretted it right away. It was like I was watching it all from outside myself, almost like it was a movie. I realized what I was doing and told Chris to stop.”

Jansdotter interrupts her.

“You have been questioned by the police twice, Amina. Why didn’t you mention any of this? During the interrogations you consistently stated that you never saw Christopher Olsen at all after Stella’s birthday.”

“I couldn’t bear to explain. I thought Stella would be released anyway.”

I scrutinize the lay judges. The Sweden Democrat has leaned back slightly and pushed out his belly as if he’s just eaten a large dinner. My immediate sense is that he’s already made up his mind. Next to him, the women are hunched toward each other, whispering.

Jenny Jansdotter sounds honestly curious as she asks the next question.

“Why would we believe you now, Amina? You’ve had many opportunities to tell the police what happened.”

I slip my hand into Adam’s, but I don’t have the courage to look at him.