He gave me one of those reassuring smiles that I knew he didn't really mean, but told me he wanted me not to worry anymore.
I nodded and gave him another kiss. "Okay, then. I'll be across the street if you need anything. Don't let the kids fool you."
"Ha ha. I won't."
"Dinner is on the counter. Just microwave it and you're good to go. Victor won't let you touch his food or cut it or anything. He wants to arrange it first on the plate before he starts to eat. He doesn't like any of the food touching each other. He's very particular about that. It takes a while, but just let him ..."
My dad grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. Then he kissed me. "Don't worry, honey. I got it. Even Victor. He'll be fine with me. Go have fun at your neighbor's."
I exhaled. "Okay. I will. See you later."
"Don't think I'll be waiting up for you though. I'm beat."
"See you tomorrow, then."
My dad returned to his book and lifted his arm in a small wave. I took one last glance at him, then walked out the door, yelling at Maya and Victor that I was leaving.
"Good," my daughter yelled back.
I closed the door and walked across the street thinking how surprisingly my children seemed to be doing much better now that their granddad was in the house. I hadn't expected that at all. It felt good. It felt like we were a real family again. I could get used to that.
I knocked at Sophia's door and she opened with a wide smile. I showed her the wine I had brought.
"Nothing for me," she said and pointed at her stomach. "Remember?"
"I do. But I thought that guy of yours might like a glass or two."
"Sure. He would love to. Come on in," she said and almost pulled me inside. She whispered secretly. "He's in the kitchen, cooking for us."
Sophia pointed through the half open door and I spotted a tall muscular guy wearing a while apron looking like he was a magician performing a very difficult trick. Sophia pulled me through the door. "Our guest of honor has arrived," she said. "This is Emma. Emma this is Stephan."
"Pleased to meet you," he said while steam hit his face from the stove. He wiped his hand in the apron, and then reached it towards me.
"Nice to meet you," I said and looked at the many pots and pans cooking. "Looking good."
Stephan smiled, then threw some spices in a pan. Sophia pulled me away. "Come. Let's talk while he cooks. The kids are all in bed already. I managed to get them to sleep early tonight. Can you believe it?"
"No. Not really," I said. I really couldn't. Usually they were still running all over the place at this time. "Good for you."
"I know. I just have all this new energy. It's like I have gotten a whole new perspective on life. I'm so much more positive. Stephan has that affect on me. And on the kids. They are so happy when he's around. You won't believe it. He even helped me get them to bed. Sit down. I'll open your wine."
"Thanks," I said and found a chair to sit in. Soon after Sophia arrived with a glass full of red wine.
"Now," Sophia said and sat down on the other side of the table. "Let's chat. Now before you say anything. Let's talk about Stephan. Isn't he handsome?"
"He is, yes, I guess." He was, but not really my type. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something. Maybe the tattoos or the big muscles. It was a little too much, I thought.
"I guess?" Sophia said with a smirk. "Come on, woman. He's gorgeous!"
"Okay, then yes. He is very handsome. Good for you."
"This kid is going to be stunning. I just know it," she said and held a hand to her stomach. It still wasn't visible yet.
"I bet."
I drank from my glass and looked at my happy friend. "So is he moving in soon, or what's going on?"
"Next week," she said with a huge smile. She had a pretty smile. It was wonderful to see her this happy. "So what's new with you?" she asked.
"My dad arrived today."
"That's good news, right?" Sophia asked. "I mean you've wanted for him to come for a long time, right?"
"Yes. I'm really happy that he finally did. The kids are ecstatic. Well mostly Maya, but still. It's great to see them with him."
Sophia looked at me observingly. "But something is bothering you, isn't it? You seem like you have something on your mind."
I drank some more wine, then looked at Sophia. "Well I figured something out. I haven't told anyone this before."
Sophia became serious. "Wow it sounds bad, is it? Is it something bad?"
"I have a feeling that it might be. I don't quite know how to wrap my head around it, but something is wrong."
"Well spill it sister."
I sipped my wine again. Wonderful smells were beginning to come from the kitchen. I was hungry, I realized. "I think there is a serial killer on the loose on the island. I have checked the police files and all the killings lately are all done in the same manner. All have been opened up and their organs cut out while they were still alive."
Sophia looked at me and wrinkled her forehead. "But I thought the police said there was no connection between the three killings. Naturally I suspected that there was, I am not that big an idiot, but why are they saying there isn't?"
"To not create panic. They're afraid of scaring off the tourists."
"That would be bad, alright," Sophia said. Without the tourists we would go broke, the entire island would go broke." She inhaled deeply and leaned back. "So the police are covering up for as long as it is possible, what's so bad about that?"
"There is more."
"I had a feeling there would be."
"My grandmother was one of the victims. The killer has been painting numbers on the walls of his victims and I found a number on Victor's wall as well. The house had been cleaned and it was almost gone, but I could still see it. I found her file and realized she had been killed the exact same way as the three others."
"Oh boy," Sophia said and grabbed the wine bottle. "You need a little more of this, I think," she said and poured some into my glass.
"Dinner is served," Stephan said and poked his head into the living room.
"Oh boy," Sophia said again and got up from her chair. "I've been waiting for this all day!"
39
2012
Everything was arranged so nicely when we got back into the kitchen. Stephan had set the table very neatly with yellow napkins and flowers. Every plate had food on it, arranged nicely with a piece of meat, two potatoes and some sauce, a small stalk of parsley, some roasted walnuts, soft fried onions and pickles.
"It smells so good," I said and sat down.
"It really does," Sophia said and kissed Stephan on the cheek. "You're in for a real treat, Emma. Stephan is the best cook."
It looked really intriguing and I was famished. I hadn't had time for lunch because of all that cleaning I had to do. Stephan poured me some more wine. I decided it had to be my last glass. Wine on an empty stomach was never a great idea.
"So Emma. Sophia tells me you're a writer." Stephan grabbed the chair across from me and sat down. I was so hungry now I could hardly wait anymore. I wanted to dig in right away, but to be polite I waited.
"Yes. Well I have mostly been a reporter the last many years for various magazines. Before that I did a little TV as a reporter for a few years, but I enjoy writing more than that."
"Let me get us all some water," Sophia said and left the table to fill a jug with water from the tap.
"And you're writing a book now?" Stephan asked.
"Yeah. Well ... uh I'm trying to. I haven't quite started writing yet. Right now I'm mostly doing research."
"Sophia tells me it's about the killing of Mrs. Heinrichsen?"
"Yeah. It is. Did you know her?"
"No. I have heard of her though. Sounds like a nasty old hag to me. Probably deserved what she had coming."
I cleared my throat. "I hardly think anyone deserves to be killed, no matter how horrible they have acted."
Stephan had taken a beer and was drinki
ng from it. "I completely disagree."
"I beg your pardon? How does killing them make it better?"
"Who says it's supposed to make anything better. It's not. It's all about revenge, them getting what they deserve. I don't feel sorry for anyone like her."
"So I guess you're in to death penalty and that kind of stuff?"
He drank from his beer and nodded. "I sure am. An eye for an eye, I always say. If someone kills a person they should be killed themselves. It's as simple as that."
"Here is the water," Sophia said and started pouring into our small glasses.
I drank a little thinking about saying something more, but I didn't want to ruin the atmosphere by starting a discussion. The man had a right to his own opinion even if I didn't agree.
"Now dig in," Stephan said.
I picked up my knife and fork and cut out a piece of the meat. It tasted heavenly. The sauce with mushrooms in it was like an explosion in my mouth.
"Wow, this is good," Sophia said. "What is it? I can't detect what kind of meat is it?"
Stephan lifted his head and smiled. "It's actually two types of meat. A real delicacy. It's heart and liver in a creamy mushroom sauce."
Sophia had just taken a big mouthful and now she was spitting it all out on the plate. I felt the meat grow in my mouth and chewed for a long time until I finally sank it with much discomfort. I flushed it down with a big sip of wine.
"Are you kidding me?" Sophia yelled and washed her mouth in water, gurgling and splashing it around inside the mouth like she was cleaning her teeth at the dentist.
"What?" Stephan said.
I poked my meat with my fork and pushed it around on the plate. I really didn't feel like eating any more.
"You serve us organs?" Sophia asked enraged.
"It's good. It's considered to be a delicacy. Didn't it taste good? Emma?" Stephan looked at me for an answer. It was starting to be awkward.
"It is great," I said. "I'm just not really into eating organs. My mother used to serve liver to me as a child, and I've kind of hated it ever since. Sorry."
Stephan threw his fork at his plate and pushed his chair backwards making a loud sound. "Well suit yourselves," he said with an angry tone.
"I'd better get back to my dad and the kids," I said and got up. I wiped my mouth in the napkin and emptied my wine. I sensed it was time to get out. Stephan wasn't happy with us and the atmosphere was way too tense for me to stay.
Sophia walked me out. "I'm so sorry about that," she whispered.
"It's okay. He didn't know. Thanks for dinner. See you soon," I said and gave her a hug before I left.
40
2012
I got up early and made breakfast for everyone. While frying bacon on the pan, the way I knew my dad liked it, I couldn't help but think about last night and the food.
There was a sound behind me and I turned to see my dad walk into the kitchen wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas.
"Good morning, Dad," I said.
"What's with the cheerful voice this early," he grunted and sat down heavily in a chair. I smiled and looked at him. He never was much of a morning person.
"I'm making bacon and scrambled eggs. Just the way you like them."
My dad picked up the local paper and started reading while grunting some more. I shrugged and continued my cooking waiting for him to wake up properly. It always took a while.
"So did you sleep alright?" I asked.
My dad grumbled. "I never slept well in this house, not one single night in my life."
"That's a little harsh, don't you think? Certainly there must have been nights in your childhood that you slept okay?"
My dad put the paper down and looked at me. "I hate this place, end of story. Just like I loathed my mother who died in it. I feel like she's still here watching me, condemning me. Hell yesterday I even thought I heard her voice again. Telling me I was a fool for letting my wife run off like that." He shook his head with a tsk. "Sounded just like she used to. Always calling me a damned fool."
I flipped the bacon and turned to look at him again. "I don't think you're a fool. What could you have done? If mom wanted to leave, she wanted to leave. It's not like you could have tied her up and made her stay."
My dad grunted again and folded the paper back up in front of his face. I approached him and sat down next to him. "Dad?"
"Hm?"
"Dad could you put the paper down, please?" I asked and put a hand on it.
He lowered it and looked at me above the edge of the paper.
"Just put it down for me, please. I like to look at people when I'm talking to them."
My dad grumbled some more then put the paper down. He took off his glasses. "What do you want?"
"To know what went wrong with you and grandma. I grew up not knowing her at all. You even told me at one point she was already dead."
"You met her once."
"When I was four years old! If I am to get really angry, then I'd say you deprived me of a relationship with her by keeping me away."
My dad snorted. "Well you're better off without. Believe me. I did you a huge favor."
I sighed. "What’s done is done and we can't change that, but I would like to know what went wrong with you two? Did you have a fight or what?"
My dad exhaled deeply. "Can't we just leave it in the past? Do we have to talk about everything?"
"Dad. We hardly ever talk about anything important like this. I want to know because it will make me closer to you. It will make me understand you better and know you better. And I really want that."
"If you want to be so damn close you shouldn't have moved all the way across the country now should you?"
"Okay, Dad. I understand you're mad about us moving away and all ..."
"Damn right I am. You're the only family I have left. Now you're depriving me of a relationship with my grandchildren. Is that any better than what I did to you?"
"Touché dad. Okay I admit I feel bad about having left you alone and I promise we will come to visit as often as we can. And you can come here all the time of you like."
"Well I don't like it. I don't like this island or this house."
"Why dad? What did grandma do that was so horrible it has to ruin everything for us? Explain it to me. Make me understand."
My dad scoffed. "Some things are better left in the past." He picked up the paper again while I watched him feeling the irritation grow. This was so typically him. I exhaled ostentatiously. My dad lowered the paper again.
"What?" he said. "You don't have to know everything."
"What are you so afraid of?" I asked with a scoff. "That I'll get to know you better? Is that so bad? It's just like when mom left. You didn't even tell me about it. I called you the day after and you didn't even care to tell me. The only way I figured it out was because I stopped by a week later. A week later!"
"Don't raise your voice, Emma," he said sounding like he had done when I was still a child. "I thought your mother would call you and tell it herself. That's why I didn't talk about it. Plus I was still very angry and sad and I was afraid I might say something that I would later regret. You could say I was still in some sort of shock. I had no idea it was coming. I thought we were doing fine. You have to understand Emma that it came out of the blue for me. I was in no way prepared for it; I was still trying to figure out what had really happened when you called me. I wasn't prepared to accept the fact that she had left yet. There you have it. That's the truth."
I put my hand on top of his and held it tight. "I know Dad. I know it has been a hard time for you. It must have been terrible. Hell I have no idea why she would suddenly do such a thing, believe me. But what really hurt me was the fact, that you didn't think about talking to me about it right away. You should have called me as soon as she had left. I'm your daughter for crying out loud. I will always be there for you. I want to be a part of your life. I want to know when you're sad and unhappy and when you're happy. Just like you want to be a
part of my life and know what's going on with me."
Dad nodded slowly with a smile. "I guess I never thought about it in that way. I thought I was protecting you by not telling you. I didn't want you to see me unhappy. Guess that comes with being a parent, right? I didn't want you to feel like you had to take care of me."
I got up from my chair and kissed Dad on the forehead. "Coffee?" I asked and poured some in a cup knowing how much he loved his morning coffee. I put it on the table in front of him and poured one for myself. He lifted his and put it against mine in a toast.
"I love you kiddo," he said with a smile. "Even if you insist on living all the way out here."
"I love you too, Dad."
I served him his breakfast, eggs and bacon that he ate with great pleasure. "What about work?" I asked knowing how important his work as a doctor always had been to my dad, so much he had been absent a lot during my childhood and during his marriage to my mother, something I assumed had a lot to say in her decision to leave him.
"Aren't they going to miss you at the clinic this entire week?"
"I took the week off. It's my clinic you know. I can take time off if I want to. Plus I just hired a new guy so now they are three to take care of patients from now on. I was thinking I might take a lot more time of from now on, since they seem to run the place just fine without me. Maybe even better. " My dad winked as he said the last sentence.
"That sounds like a very good idea," I said thinking I never thought I would hear my dad say something like that, ever.
"Yeah, I guess. I have kind of wasted most of my life at that clinic, huh? Missed most of the years you were growing up. If only I had realized this many years ago, I might even still have a wife."
I smiled compassionately knowing he might be right. "Well, Dad as you put it yourself; some things are better left in the past, right? We don't have time to waste on regrets."