His wife Marie had ugly breasts. They were nice back when they first met, but now after they had the three kids, they were flat and hanging and … well they simply didn't get him excited anymore the way they just dangled there. Martin had told Marie that he would happily pay for her to have them done, but she had refused. Slowly, over the years, the sex had gone from bad to worse to nothing at all. They simply stopped desiring each other. Or at least Martin stopped desiring Marie. He couldn't speak for her or even remotely know what went on in her mind anymore. It seemed that all she did was to yell at him the moment he set foot in the house. So eventually, he did that less and less. He kept coming up with excuses for staying away from the house. Working late, going on a trip, a business meeting downtown that went into a dinner meeting. Stuff like that. And once he finally stepped inside the house, he hurried to the bathroom where he sat for an hour or so reading on his phone or playing Candy Crush, just to avoid Marie and the screaming kids. It had gotten so bad that there were days when he drove into the driveway and stood outside the window of the house looking into the living room, then turned around and decided to go for a drive for a couple of hours, just to avoid them.
The business trips were what kept him going. As a salesman, he travelled all over the world meeting with potential clients and it suited him fine to be almost constantly on the road these days.
"So, you never answered my question," he said.
"What was that?" The woman asked.
"I asked you if you came here often."
The girl smiled again. "I thought it was just a pick-up line."
Martin chuckled. "I guess it was. I'll try something else instead." He leaned over and spoke with a low voice. "So what do I call you when I want to scream out your name during my orgasm?"
The girl chuckled. It was a good sign. Not all girls liked that line. Martin laughed too, then leaned over the bar and drank from his whiskey, imagining going down on the girl next to him.
"You can call me Barbara," she said, licking her teeth.
"Well Barbara," he said tasting her name. "I'm Martin. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
12
August 2012
By dinnertime, I was starving after playing outside all day with Julie. The weather had been great, so we had played hide and seek in the small forest, then dipped our feet in the lake and looked at all the many fish in the water. After grabbing lunch, we took out a blanket and some books for Julie to read and we laid in the sun talking and reading, me on my iPad, Julie in her books for school. Then Julie suggested we try to walk around the island with our feet in the water. Afterwards, we played soccer on the big lawn until the ball landed in the water and I had to go out and get it in the mushy water.
Now I was looking inside the refrigerator to find the dinner that Peter had told me Mrs. Holm had prepared for us to heat up. I found a roast and potatoes and a brown sauce in a container. I arranged it all on three plates, then put it in the microwave.
Peter came down just in time for dinner with paint on his cheek and fingers.
"Did you have a great time?" I asked curiously and handed him his plate.
He smiled widely. "The best. There is nothing like it. I tell you this is what I want to do with the rest of my life." I guess you can say I have discovered my inner artist. Who would have thought that I had one, huh?"
"I know," I said and served Julie her plate. She dug in immediately and very greedily. Fresh air and playing sure made us both hungry.
I poured some wine for me and Peter and sat down. "I guess we all had a great day, huh?" I said.
Julie nodded with her mouth full. "Mom and I had a lot of fun," she said.
"I'm glad to hear that," Peter said. "I'm so glad to have you both here. I have really missed this. I've missed us."
He looked at me while he spoke. Somehow it made me feel guilty. I was so happy that he was doing better and that we were able to be a family again. It was all I wanted, but at that second, I couldn't help thinking about Sune. I don't know what it was, but somehow I was just reminded of how much I had hurt him. And here I was all happy and with my family again, while he was sitting back there at his apartment in Karrebaeksminde all alone. And it wasn't just guilt, it was something else too. It was a longing. A desire to see him again.
I realized I missed him.
"So, what's up for tomorrow?" Peter asked cheerfully. "Anyone want to go into town?"
"I'd love to," Julie shrieked. "Can we get ice cream at that place again, Dad? Can we? Please?"
Peter laughed. "Of course. That's tradition."
"Just you wait, Mom till you taste this ice cream. It’s soooo good. You won't believe it."
"I guess I'll have to then," I said smiling. "You don't have to force me to eat ice cream."
"We have to buy some food too and toilet paper and such," Peter said.
"I thought the good Mrs. Holm took care of all those kinds of things?" I asked sipping my wine. It was a very expensive bottle that Peter had found in the wine cellar below the house. Every sip was like an explosion in my mouth.
"Well she takes care of the more basic stuff. But for the most part, I'm the only one here, so that's easy, but now that there's three of us, I believe it's a little too much to demand of the good old Mrs. Holm."
"Sounds fair. I'd love to see the town," I said and ate a piece of the roast. The good old Mrs. Holm turned out to be quite the cook.
"It's really nice down there, Mommy," Julie said.
Peter chuckled. "It's not much of a town, really. But it has what we need. I need gas for the boat as well."
"There's a hotel down there as well isn't there?" I asked.
"Yes. Hotel Kragen, why?" Peter asked.
"Well there was a story this morning about a guy …" I paused and looked at Julie, not sure that I wanted her to hear what had happened. "Well something bad happened to him and he was on TV talking about it. I thought about checking the place out."
Peter tilted his head. "And maybe write about it to your newspaper, is that it?" He put his glass down hard on the table. "Christ, Rebekka. Can't you just be on vacation for once?"
"I just wanted to check it out, Peter. That's all."
"Don't you think I know you? It doesn't matter where we go, you’re always working."
"Well I'm sorry if I love my job. At least I'm playing with my daughter when we're on vacation and not hiding in some attic all day."
"Please stop fighting?" Julie said and held both hands to her ears.
Peter sighed and leaned back in his chair. "That was low, Rebekka and you know it."
"Okay, I didn't mean that, but I can't see the big deal about this. All I want is to check the place out, that's all. And so what if I happened to find something interesting to write about? This story is interesting. It's the first case of organ theft in our country. It's important."
"Organ theft?" Julie said. "What's organ theft?"
Peter gesticulated, resignedly. "Now look what you've done. Do you really want your daughter to know about these kinds of things? Do you want her to have bad dreams about organ thieves at night?"
"Of course not," I said.
"It's just because you want your newspaper to have to write the story so you can call your little boyfriend and have him come up here and take pictures for you, isn't it? You want to be with him instead of being here with us? Then go ahead."
Peter got up from the table and left the kitchen slamming the door. I felt so infuriated. Why did I have to ask about that place? Why couldn't I just keep my big mouth shut? Why did he have to be such a prick about it?
"Mom, what is dad talking about? Are Sune and Tobias coming up here?"
"No sweetie. They're not coming. Daddy was just talking nonsense. He didn't mean any of it. Don't worry. Eat your dinner."
"Are you and daddy going to be separated again?"
I smiled and stroked her hair. My beautiful daughter. The last couple of years had been confusing
for her. It was time to give her some stability. If I wanted to be with Peter, then I would have to be more sensitive to his jealousy and make sure I didn't hurt him. "No sweetie. No we're not. We're together now and that's not going to change. You, dad and I love each other very much. But all couples have a fight now and then. That's just the way it is. It'll pass. We'll be friends again soon. Just wait and see."
"So, you'll tell him you're sorry?" She asked.
I looked into her blue eyes and sighed. "I guess I have to, don't I?"
"That's what our teacher tells us to do when we're fighting. The one who says sorry first is the winner."
I laughed out loud. "I guess she's right. At least she's the bigger person, right? The smart one."
"It's smart to say you're sorry," Julie said and finished her food.
I drank my wine thinking about what Peter had said. Why had it infuriated me so much what he had said about Sune? Could it be because he was right?
I shook my head and put the glass down. No it was absurd.
13
August 2012
The sex was amazing. Martin had never been with anyone this exciting. Not only was she gorgeous, especially without clothes, but her body was so flexible they could do it in positions Martin had only dared to dream about. It was like she was a gift from above, sent to make up for all the bad sex Martin had to live with from his wife.
Or maybe she was sent from the devil. Either way, Martin had the night of his life with this girl and after she left him with a see you next time you're in town big boy, Martin fell into a heavy sleep immediately.
He even dreamt about the sex and the girl and in the dream she told him she wanted to stay here with him, that she never wanted to leave him again.
"I think I love you," he whispered out in the darkness, then opened his eyes and realized it was just a dream. Martin closed his eyes again hoping to be able to go back to that warm place of utter happiness, of complete joy that he had been in. He never wanted to leave it again. When he was with her, he didn't think about Marie or the screaming kids. There were no hanging breasts, there was no screaming wife yelling at him for never taking part in anything, for him never being there when he was needed. No there was nothing but him and … her. Him plunging into her voluptuous breasts, licking her thighs and the silky skin on her stomach that was so flat and not bumpy like Marie's.
Just him and her. Just him and Barbara.
Martin looked at the door to the hallway of the hotel and realized she hadn't closed it properly when she left. Secretly, he hoped she would walk in through it again now and they would start all over again, but the door didn't move. He closed his eyes for a second imagining her coming back, telling him she forgot something.
"What did you forget?" he would ask.
"To fuck your brains out again," she would answer. Then they would do it all night long. Over and over again. With her, there would be no cases of not being able to get it up, or closing his eyes and watching a porn-movie on the inside of the eyelids during sex. No with Barbara he didn't have to think about other women or porn, with her it was real. She was so real and his desire for her was very real.
Martin opened his eyes and got out of the bed with the intention of closing the door properly. It was time to get some sleep before he had to move on to another city tomorrow. There had been a lot of driving in his car lately, but he didn't mind. At least he didn't have to go home.
When he shut the door, he thought he heard a sound behind him and turned. He smiled as he walked towards the bathroom where the sound came from. Could it be? Could it really be? Had she come back after all? Had she realized that she enjoyed being with Martin more than with any other man? Did she want more sex or was she going to ask him to take her away from here? Take her with him on his trip around Denmark and stay in hotels, and eat in fancy restaurants. Would he do it? Would he take her?
In a heartbeat.
"Barbara?"
She didn't answer. Martin walked closer to the bathroom, then put his hand on the door and pushed it open. He walked in with a wide smile, thinking he was going to find her in there dressed in sexy underwear, maybe even some of those black stockings that he loved so much. He chuckled at the thought of ripping them off with his teeth.
"I'm coming Barbara."
But what he found in the bathroom wasn't Barbara, much to his surprise. A masked face stared back at him.
"Who are you?" he said with a shivering voice. "What are you doing in my bathroom? Get out of here. I'm trying to sleep."
Before he was able to react, the masked person lifted the arm holding a syringe, planted it in Martin's shoulder and emptied its contents.
"What the hell …?" he exclaimed and looked at where the needle had gone through the skin. Seconds later, he could no longer move his arms or legs and the last thing he saw before everything went black, was the pink bathroom tiles coming closer and closer.
14
August 2012
Arianna Kosakovski pulled her cart down the hallway, then pulled out the key that the owner of the hotel had given her. Since there was no sign on the door telling her not to go in, she opened the door and walked in.
As usual, it was with a slight fear of walking in on someone in the room. To think of the things she had seen over the years. The most embarrassing was always when someone was having sex and forgot to put the do not disturb sign out on the handle. It happened more than once a month to her and she really hated that. Why people always forgot, she didn't understand. It was so embarrassing for both her and them. Arianna always knocked before entering when she knew the guest hadn't checked out yet and so she did again when walking into room 237 at the Hotel Bellevue in the small town of Hasle.
"Hello? Cleaning?" she said in her bad Danish that still had a heavy Russian accent to it, even after eight years in the country.
There was no answer so Arianna proceeded. She grabbed the clean bed sheets from the cart and walked inside. She picked up the guest's pants from the floor and threw them on a chair before starting to change the bed sheets. People were so messy when they were in hotel rooms. Always leaving their clothes on the floor and even their dirty underwear. Arianna always wore plastic gloves when cleaning the rooms anyway, so she just picked them up, but not without wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Arianna changed the bed sheets and linens first, then brought in the vacuum cleaner and cleaned the floors. When done, she wrapped the cord up and replaced the vacuum cleaner. Outside in the hallway, she greeted her friend Sissel who took care of the rooms on the other side. Sissel smiled and told a dirty joke that made Arianna laugh.
"You're very sick in head, Sissel," she said before she went back inside room 237 carrying towels and new soap for the bathroom. As the door closed behind her, she stopped and looked at the pants that she had put over the back of the chair. She put down the towels and picked up the pants again. She went through the pockets and pulled out a crumpled up one hundred kroner bill. Arianna smiled. It was her lucky day. Often the guests were too drunk to remember what kind of cash they had in their pockets. Especially businessmen travelling alone, picking up women in the bar downstairs who were often hookers. They were way too deep into what was going on to happen to remember putting a crumpled up one hundred kroner bill in their pocket when they left the bar with the girl. They were all thinking with their dicks at that point and would never know it went missing. Arianna straightened the bill out, then put it in her bra. It was Sissel who had taught Arianna how to earn a little extra cash while cleaning the rooms without anyone knowing about it. It was the third time today she had been able to stick a one hundred kroner bill in her bra.
"Just enough for Marius’ new shoes," she mumbled happily.
Marius had needed new shoes for a long time now and his father was too cheap to help out.
"I gave you everything, Arianna. All you dreamt of. I married you so you could come to Denmark, I even gave you a child. What else do you want from me?" he often asked.
r /> He was a hopeless alcoholic and Arianna hadn't been able to live with his abuse when he was drunk. Not when it was the boy who had to take the beating. That was too much for her to handle. So, a couple of months ago, she had moved out and asked for separation. The government now said they wanted to throw her out and, for a while now, she had been living with the fear that they would actually do it. Especially since they told her Marius could stay here with his dad. That left Arianna with an impossible choice to make. If Marius stayed, he would get a great education for free and grow up to be a real Dane giving him the best possibilities to amount to something. But she would never see him and he would be with a father who drank and beat him up every now and then. If she took him with her back to Russia, he would grow up in extreme poverty like Arianna had and he wouldn't get much of an education.
Arianna sighed deeply as she picked up the towels and walked towards the bathroom. She tried hard not to think about it since it filled her with deep sadness. She had to cling to that last straw of hope that the government would change its mind and choose not to deport her after all. She had appealed the decision and was now awaiting the final answer.
Arianna felt a chill run down her back as she opened the door to the bathroom. Not because she was cold, but from the terror that met her in there that, for the first time in a long time, made her forget all about the possibility of deportation. Sitting in the bathtub, almost covered in ice-cubes was the body of a man whom she guessed was the rightful owner of the one hundred kroner bill she was now carrying in her bra.
15
August 2012
I followed Julie's advice and told Peter that I was sorry. It helped, and the next day, after breakfast, we all went to the mainland together in his boat. Julie was talking non-stop about the ice cream and what flavor she was going to get.
I tried hard not to think about the man with the missing kidney. I had even stayed away from my iPad this morning and not read the news. It was, after all, a vacation and no one expected that I would keep myself updated constantly. The problem was just that I loved keeping myself updated. I loved being a part of the stream of news, constantly flowing. It was my life, it was my job and it was a big part of who I was.