Page 2 of Baking Battles

“It’s only one weekend.” Sara says, her voice on that edge of irritation again. The tone that makes Mattias feel small and useless, even though he knows it shouldn’t. “And it’s not like you have anything planned Matt, because you never do. You don’t do anything but work.”

They are not together anymore, and Sara has no right to put him down. They decided on a truce when they finally officially divorced, on schedules and the way they should manage things, and whilst Mattias sticks to the rules, Sara still seems to make hers up as they go along.

“I can do the weekend, but I can’t take Friday off, Sara, I have already exhausted my parental leave and it’s not good for Emilia to be pushed around, she needs to feel like our arrangement is stable.” Mattias stands firm. He is quite proud of himself saying no, even though his heart is screaming to say yes. To have Emi a whole extra weekend outside their agreed schedule.

“Matt, I just need this. I need to feel alive and free. And going away with Thomas next weekend would just... I don’t know, it makes me feel good about myself that he even asked.”

He knows what she is doing. Taking another sly dig at him and his inability to make her feel wanted. And she’s right, because they have spent years grinding each other down. It was never right. It had never been good, and despite Sara’s flawless body, her pert bum and small perfect breasts, he had never made her feel like she had been everything to him, because she had never been. He had been weak for so long, and had just gone along with it, because it was convenient, practical and most of all safe.

Not that Mattias Strømme is a catch in any shape or form. He’s dull as dishwater, with his messy mop of straggly that no gel can ever tame. His pale skin and too broad shoulders. A too skinny body and a mouth that never seems to connect with his brain in time to stop the shit he churns out.

It’s been almost a year since the day he walked out. The day he cried himself to sleep in a small cheap hotel room wishing he was at home on the floor in Emilia’s room holding her hand through the wooden slats surrounding her cot.

Sara had refused to let Emilia co-sleep, pushing her ideas of independence and making their baby strong and fearless, when all Mattias wanted was to fall asleep with his baby girl curled into his arms. He had gone along with Sara, as he always had. Nodded and agreed, only to find himself spending more and more nights sleeping on the floor next to his daughter, instead of in the bed of his long-suffering wife. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other, because he did love Sara, he still does. There is nothing else he can do, because they have been part of each other’s lives for so long, and she has given him the greatest gift in the world—Emilia. The cheeky curly-haired two-year-old that is truly the love of his life.

Sara and him. It had been stupid—he can see that now. A teenage thing that had developed into some kind of fucked-up safety net. They both agreed that they had settled for the safe option instead of realising that they should have gone their separate ways years ago. And Mattias still struggles to remember the last time they made love. It had been long before Emilia was born, and they had rarely touchedeach other anyway, passing with a lame kiss on the cheek in the kitchen and a pathetic “love you” in their daily texts. It had never been anything like a romance. It has been ridiculous. Apathetic. Pathetic. But safe.

He had walked out of his marriage, his home, and his life and woke up the next day weighed down with guilt, but dizzy with relief. It had been the right decision. The best decision. And it also means that every other week now, Mattias is a single dad and is able to spend every evening with the love of his life. His little ray of sunshine.

He can finally be the dad he has always wanted to be, the dad who just won’t stay put. They have started to explore the city on bike. Emilia is strapped into the seat wedged on the front of his bicycle, with her pink helmet bobbing under his chin as they laugh and chat. He had always wanted a bicycle seat, which Sara had dismissed as unnecessary and dangerous. Well, she has no input now, and Emilia loves it. They have spent hours this summer exploring, and camping out at night, his daughter is wrapped up inside his sleeping bag, snuggles tight against his chest through the night. Sara would have screamed at him if she knew. Not that he cares.

She has found herself a string of new boyfriends and lives a hectic life in the weeks Emilia spends with Mattias, and he is glad. He is more than pleased for her. Honestly.

His own life is his own again and he will give himself the luxury of being single this time. Grab some time to find himself, and find time to figure things out. He is never going to rush into a relationship again, nor let his life be controlled by anyone else. It will be on his own terms the next time, if there even will be a next time. Because, Mattias Strømme is free, and happy. He is finally someone he thinks he may like one day. Some days,when he looks in the mirror, he even likes what he sees.

“Fine.” He says. “Tell me what you need.”

He shouldn’t have backed down this easily, but years of being the person he still becomes with Sara is hard to erase, and to be honest, the thought of a whole extra uninterrupted long weekend with Emilia is tempting. A weekend of laughter and fun and laundry and exhaustion and toys everywhere and a small warm body in his bed every night. Yeah. It’s not really worth arguing about.

“I need to leave Thursday lunchtime, so if you can pick her up from nursery after work, that will be great. I have asked about Friday, if she can come to nursery, but they say they are full, but you can ask again? Or maybe you can get someone to babysit? Like that Alima?”

“That Alima?” Mattias sighs. It would be so easy to say something snarky. Just spill into one of their usual arguments of Sara not liking Mattias’s friends, and Mattias taking the piss out of the idiotic crowd Sara still hangs with. They are supposed to be adults, for fuck’s sake. Really.

“Whatever,” Sara sighs. “I appreciate it Matt. I need some ‘me’ time, some time where I feel like an adult again, not just a mummy with saggy boobs and no life. I need some adult conversation and I need to feel desired. Like I’m someone, not just Emi’s mummy whose name no one ever remembers. Solveig at nursery couldn’t remember it the other day, just called me ‘Emilia’s grown up’ like I am nothing but some invisible mannequin.”

“Go, enjoy yourself. It’s okay, Sara, you know I don’t begrudge you going away. You work damn hard, so just go and Emilia and I will be fine.”

“Thanks, babe.” Sara says, and she actually sounds kind for a change. Resigned. Relieved. “I would offer to swap the weekend after, but I already have plans every night and it would be hell to try to rehash the meetings, and on top of that, I have promised Guri a night out on Friday. I just can’t cancel at such short notice.”

She sighs again and Mattias snaps back. He has zoned out again, tapping on his online calendar, trying to put in reminders to collect his daughter and already wondering where they can go on Saturday that is easily accessible with a pram and is not too far. The weather is going to be freezing, and the back carrier he uses is hard to access in the cold wind. Emilia gets cold up there and at least in the pram she can be snug and warm, until Mattias can figure out where to get one of those cover things he has seen other parents with. He just hasn’t had time to Google it, or figure out if there is a shop that sells them.

“Have fun, Sara.” He says, trying to sound cheerful.

“Mattias?” Danijel raps his fingers at the doorframe to his office. Impatient, as always.

“Sara, I need to go. Danijel needs me.”

He probably doesn’t, but he doesn’t want to talk to Sara longer than he needs to. There are only so many minutes he can manage to stay civil before some snarky comments slip out on his tongue, and set her off on a rant of his immaturity and inability to make her feel like a woman. Yeah, because that is her favourite put down. The one she knows hurts like hell. Only, because it is true. He has never been good at the sex thing, and the fact they have managed to make a baby is still beyond Mattias’s comprehension. He has made something beautiful, out of something that he still doesn’t fully understand.

“Mattias!”Danijel sighs, knocking repeatedly at the door to Mattias’s small office. “Mattias Strømme. TV3 Chief Financial Officer” the sign screams in the quirky trademarked TV3 font, which Danijel impatiently taps a rolled-up bunch of papers against, almost jumping up and down.

He’s pissed off. Sweating slightly around the temples, like he does when Mattias throws down his latest budget proposals with a big fat REJECTED stamp across it. They do that a lot. Danijel and his ‘out of this world’ mad ideas and Mattias with his watertight budget rejections. Which is why they work so well together, because Danijel can pull that shit off and Mattias can make anything a success profit-wise. He knows his numbers, and Danijel knows his audience and together they produce magic. It’s just the way it is.

“Bye, babe.” He quips before she can say anything else, tapping end call on his mobile, as he follows Danijel out the door.

“Mattias, I’m in fucking deep shit, mate.” Danijel grits out between his teeth as the glass door to his own office slams shut behind them. He’s a small man, slim with some muscle definition showing under his fitted shirt, which is usually immaculate, but today there are patches of sweat forming under his arms, and his closely shaved black hair is getting frequent swipes from Danijel’s hands, a clear sign that something is bothering him.

“What now? I thought everything was going smoothly?Baking Battlesis still well under budget, so financially there is nothing to worry about, unless there is a lawsuit brewing that you are about to hit me with.”

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