“Why do you need a florist?”
He laughed. “I have to take care of my sweetheart. Don’t you know it’s Valentine’s Day?”
Irene had forgotten, but she said quickly, “Good idea. I need a bouquet for Krister, because he’ll be home earlier than usual. We’re going to have a wonderful Valentine’s Day dinner.”
She really longed to get home.
• • •
IRENE TOOK SAMMIE for a walk in the pouring rain. Afterward she arranged the bouquet of tulips in a vase in the center of the dinner table and put out the good china. She had no idea what Krister was going to prepare, but he would have to buy ingredients on the way home, since the refrigerator was empty. She’d need to write a shopping list and get more groceries tomorrow, because Krister would be working all weekend. At least he didn’t need to go in until late afternoon. Tonight they’d have a pleasant evening. A tingling of expectation warmed the spot between her legs. It would be wonderful to spend Valentine’s Day evening without the children at home. As the clock ticked toward nine, she decided to call Glady’s Corner.
The maitre d’ told her that Krister was still in the kitchen. Irene asked to speak to him. After she’d waited what seemed like an eternity, Krister came on the line.
“Hi, sweetheart. Sorry, I haven’t even had a free minute to call you. We’re totally swamped here, and Svante called in sick.”
“When do you think you’ll be home?”
“Probably ten-thirty at the earliest.”
“Oh.” Irene couldn’t hide her disappointment. At the same time, she felt so hungry she couldn’t stand it. Carefully, she asked, “Well, what should we do about our Valentine’s Day dinner?”
“Valentine’s? That’s today? No wonder there’s such a rush here. Well, we’ll have to have a Valentine’s Day lunch tomorrow instead. I’ll be dead on my feet when I get home. I’ve been working since nine this morning.”
They kissed through the phone and hung up. Irene irrationally felt abandoned. And there was nothing here for a real dinner.
She fried an egg and put it on a slice of bread that had been sitting in the bread box for a few days. Searching through the cupboards, she found a can of tomato soup, which she warmed up. There wasn’t even any near beer in the house. Her meal did not put her in a festive mood.
She turned on the TV and settled on an American cop show. Her movie counterparts killed six people in a matter of minutes with no consequences. She found that it all made her feel somewhat ill. Maybe she should just go to bed.
As she lay awake, she thought about many things. Life at home wasn’t running as smoothly as it had when Krister worked only thirty hours a week. Back then the fridge was always full and dinner was always made. He’d also done most of the grocery shopping and cleaning. Now that he was working full-time, and overtime to boot, he wasn’t able to plan things the same way. Jenny and Katarina were probably a bit spoiled. They never had to cook, go shopping, or clean. Of course, they were busy at school with their studies and their activities. How much did it cost to have someone come in and clean? Certainly that would be politically incorrect. But they probably could afford someone. It would be wonderful to come home to a clean house. Then maybe she and Krister would have enough energy for shopping, cooking, and being with the family. Not to mention the dog, Irene reminded herself, as she felt Sammie turn over in his sleep and land on her feet.
Their sex life was suffering. Suffering? Nonexistent! It must have been at least two weeks since they’d last had the chance to make love. Krister was often too tired. And, to be honest, she was often much too busy at work. But she was always too busy at work. The unbidden memory of the reporter Hook’s mischievous, glittering blue eyes under a shock of blond hair came into her mind’s eye. He was certainly very charming, that reporter, and he even resembled Krister, just ten years younger. With the kind of energy Hook gave off, he’d never be too tired to. …
The last time she glanced at the clock before she finally fell asleep, it was ten after eleven, and Krister still had not come home.
SNORES WERE RATTLING the windows at 6:34 A.M. when Irene realized that she was awake for good. Krister was on his back, sleeping with his right arm thrown over his head. Sammie was also lying on his back at the foot of the bed, and he was also snoring, though not as loudly as his master. When Irene got up to put on her jogging clothes, Sammie squirmed up to the warm spot she’d left behind. You can’t wake up a sleeping dog, he seemed to say, but Irene saw that he did look at her through half-open eyes.
It was still raining, although not as hard as yesterday. She pulled her nylon rainwear over her jogging suit. Jogging was not her favorite sport in this kind of weather, but it was the easiest and fastest first thing in the morning. A rainy Saturday before 7:00 A.M. should guarantee peace on the bike trail down to Fiskeback’s boat marina.
As she started, her right knee ached from an old injury, but as she went on, it loosened up and the pain disappeared. The rain lashed her face and began to soak through her cap. Her mind was beginning to clear from its morning drowsiness, and she felt her heart pump oxygen-rich blood into her system. Once she reached the harbor, she turned and jogged up past the summer cabins. She made her way through the elegant mansion area and from there onto Stora Fiskebacksvagen. She imagined that most people in those apartments were still sleeping, although she could see the shimmer of TV screens behind a few curtains. Small children were probably sitting and watching videos so that their parents could sleep in. After she passed Bjornekulla, she continued to Berga, and then turned toward home. A six-mile run was certainly long enough.
SHE FORCED SAMMIE outside to pee before she went to take a shower. As the warm water streamed over her, she felt rewarded for her hard work in the cold rain. She wrapped a towel around her hair and walked naked and steaming into the bedroom. Krister was awake, his eyes partly shut against the light coming through the hallway’s skylight. Irene lifted her arms to slowly rub her wet hair with the towel. This trick was amazing for shaping breast contours. One could say it was low-budget plastic surgery. The trick had the desired effect on her husband. When she crept back into bed with him, she could tell plainly that he thought she was the sexiest woman on the planet.
THEY DID MAJOR grocery shopping later. When they came home again, Krister whipped up a fantastic lunch: a shrimp stew with the delightful aroma of garlic, wild rice, and a salad on the side. It more than made up for the lost dinner the night before. A piece of chocolate and coffee finished it off. Full and content, Irene looked at Krister from her sofa perch. He’d been her husband for fifteen years now. Krister had sunk deep into his armchair, his head resting on the back and his eyes shut. His reddish blond hair was thinning, and more of his forehead was visible. Around his eyes were new crow’s feet. He’d always laughed easily, so she could consider them laugh lines. In just three years, he’d turn fifty, one of life’s greatest milestones.
In the beginning she’d fallen for his wonderful smile, and it was still the heartwarming and mischievous smile it had always been. He was one inch taller than she was. In his opinion he was still fit from years juggling heavy restaurant pots, but he probably should have added some training at the gym. He’d put on close to fifty pounds the last few years, and his waistline showed it. A wave of love washed over her. She got up, went to him, and kissed him gently on the forehead while settling onto his lap. Luckily, she hadn’t gained weight at all after she’d had the twins. Her lips touched his cheek as she said softly, “What are you thinking about?’
He sighed and opened his eyes. “The meaning of life. Is this what it’s all about? Coming home absolutely exhausted? Today there are so many unemployed folks aching for a chance to work, while those who have jobs are working themselves to death.”
“I have to agree with you. Those poor nurses at Lowander Hospital are wearing themselves out, but the hospital keeps cutting staff. The ones still on the job are just getting older and more worn out, while the young folks today want to study media or music. The dream jobs seem to be hosting for a music channel or actress on a soap
