Page 57 of The Happiness Blueprint
“Your hair looks perfect to me, and I’d say a boss lady is one that actually is a good boss, cares about her employees, listens to them and wants to deliver the best possible product to the customer. If anyone is a boss lady, it’s you.”
It’s Wine and Whine time. Although today we are having champagne, still high on our (my, since I’m not sharing the credit) success. And there is no whining.
“Who runs the world!” I sing (if you ask me) or shout (if you ask anyone else).
“Girls!” Saga shoulder-dances on my phone.
“Who runs the world!”
“Bygg-Nilsson!” We bend over with laughter, each on our own side of the screen.
“God, we’re uncool.”
“Actually, we’re pretty cool. Ask our new followers. And the local paper who wanted a piece of us this morning.” We catch our breaths and sip our champagne. I have celebrated met-customer-satisfaction targets at my previous job, but this is different. Now I’m celebrating my own achievement, basically I’m celebratingmyself.Us. My family.
“Do you think this will really mean more projects? That I can hand Dad back a busy company?”
“Klara, I’m certain of it.”
“I wish you were here.”
“I need to tell you something,” Saga says, and my stomach clenches in the midst of all my joy as if I’m attempting a crunch. Not another medical disaster or family drama.Please.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m coming to Sweden. I’ve taken a few days of leave and I’ll be joining you.”
“But I’m okay, everything is under control.” I refrain from saying it’s a little late now that business is booming, and Dad only has a week left of his treatment. Saga continues, her eyes staring into thin air, not searching for mine in the screen any longer.
“I’m coming forme.The truth is I need to get away. I can’t take any more right now. I just told Heinrich I had to take a weekend off. He got it, obviously, had seen it coming.” I’m stunned. For a minute I don’t say anything. Then Saga’s eyes finish the dance around the living room that they had been doing and meet mine. You know you love someone when you see their pain.
I see Saga’s pain.
“I didn’t know things were so bad. Are you guys on the rocks?” I ask. Alice told me that the origin of the phrase refers to boats that run aground, but I imagine Saga and Heinrich now barefoot on a rocky beach. Foot soles aching, tiny and annoying pebbles stuck between their toes and torsos swaying for balance.
“Maybe? Probably? If nothing changes. I feel so stupid. I have one child—one! There are women who have four and manage fine. I’m not strong enough. But I just feel pulled in all directions, like when I’m a good mum I’m a bad teacher, and when I’m a good teacher I’m a bad mum. I can’t do it all. Why? What is wrong with me?”
I love her more in this moment, vulnerable Saga. Her name meansfairy tale, and she may look like one but that doesn’t mean her life is one. I haven’t seen her properly, her needs. I’ve been too busy bulldozing my way through my own problematic life to stop and be an actual sister. I don’t care that she didn’t finish the website, now I just want her here.
ALEX
Personal Calendar
• NEW TASK:Don’t bother Klara when there’s an alarm. She’s got this without your help
• NEW TASK:Don’t obsess as if she’s your business. She’s got four other people on her app, not to mention she’s been doing this without you most of her life
• NEW TASK:Seriously, find something else to focus on
Got the new witness statement. Was asked if I wanted to read the full file, but I’m in way too good a place to get dragged down. I’ll be there on the day, and that’s enough. I did my job: I found the witness.
Don’t write to Calle that often any longer, but I reckon he’d want this news.
SAVED TO DRAFTS
Dear Calle,
Pushing for the most severe sentence after all. All thanks to the witness and the killer’s apparent display of road rage. Looking through the pile the prosecutor couriered over this morning, and I think you’d be proud. In that little-brother sort of way. When you tell your friends and colleagues about me and take me for dinner to celebrate. You loved celebrating! I felt such anger that you didn’t get to have your last birthday party—it was even planned. Dan rented out the beach club three months in advance because that’s how well you always planned things. Seafood canapés, champagne and apple cider. It wasn’t even a big birthday, not forty for many years yet, but you didn’t get to have it. “Do the wake there,” someone said. But Dan took the deposit when they offered it back. Told everyone to wear black for your funeral and served quiches and a buffet.
