Chapter Five #3
“I know,” she replied. “And you haven’t.
” And this time she actually meant it, which surprised her a little.
She had to force her gaze away from his.
Those dark eyes had a compelling pull that she was finding hard to resist. It also surprised her he thought they had a relationship.
Because they didn’t; she’d only known him for a few hours.
That wasn’t long enough to form any sort of bond.
“Thank you.” His voice remained soft, compassionate.
Then he straightened his spine and said, “Right. Your father likes to hear about cruise ships, huh? Well, have I got some stories for him?” He gestured for her to precede him down the hallway, and she couldn’t stop the small bubble of respect that rose from her gut; he was a man who took his duties seriously.
She led him back to the kitchen, where she opened the back door to go out to the shed to retrieve the beer, motioning for him to go back the way they’d come into the living room.
The freezing air hit her as she put on a pair of Wellington boots she kept at the back door and ran through the snow to the small shed huddled in the back corner of her garden.
At least she didn’t need to keep the beer refrigerated in this weather.
Returning to the kitchen, she pulled down three containers—tall glasses for her and Jiro and a special no-spill cup for her father—from an overhead cupboard, and started to pour them all a beer, listening to the murmur of conversation coming from the living room.
Jiro was talking, and for once her father seemed to be listening with rapt attention.
Edging sideways, Aurora peered around the door frame, watching the two men as they talked.
Jiro was waving his hands around in animation, his face in profile as he sat at the end of the couch nearest to Karl.
Every now and then he would unconsciously push that wayward lock of hair up his forehead and away from his eyes.
She could only see the back of Fader’s head, but he was nodding enthusiastically as Jiro spoke.
He probably understood half of what he was saying, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Her father had ignored his early-onset Parkinson’s symptoms for a very long time.
She’d only found out after he moved in with her that they’d first started in his early forties, but it wasn’t until almost five years ago that he’d finally admitted something was wrong.
It would be his sixty-second birthday early in the new year, just after Christmas.
Most men of that age were still considered just out of their prime, but Karl was on a steep downward spiral.
It was his lack of money, however, that’d finally forced him to reach out to his daughters.
The bank had foreclosed on the property he’d bought in Malmo with their mother’s money because he hadn’t honored any mortgage payments in nearly a year. The money was all gone, he said.
He’d gone to see Astrid first—who had remained living in Malmo—telling her his woeful tale of how he would soon need to get around in a wheelchair, peddling his usual truckload full of guilt and telling her it was her obligation as a daughter to look after him.
His relationship with Astrid had remained sporadic at best, only visiting her once or twice in the past three years, even though they both lived in the same town.
But Astrid lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, and it would’ve been hell on earth if she’d had to take her father.
So she’d called Aurora, crying down the phone, almost hysterical as she relayed their father’s plight.
What choice had Aurora had?
She hated that their father had practically ignored his two daughters ever since their mother had died, stating that it’d been Karin’s choice to have kids, and now he was free of all burdens.
But when it became obvious he could no longer cope on his own, he expected them to come running; it was their duty as good Swedish daughters.
He was such a fucking hypocrite. Add to that, Aurora had moved to Gothenburg on the day she’d turned eighteen, three weeks after her mother had died, just to get away from him, and she wondered how he had the gall to even ask.
But ask he had, and she couldn’t let Astrid bear the burden.
So she’d agreed. And now she found herself trapped in a cycle of never-ending regret, guilt and recriminations.
She had no life of her own now; all her personal time was taken up caring for Karl.
But it was the guilt that ate at her the most. The doctor had warned her that Parkinson’s wasn’t just a disease that affected the physical body of a person.
It had many mental implications as well.
Top of the list being depression, because as the person became less able to do things for themselves, it could often lead to someone drowning in misery, turning on their carers as an outlet for their emotions.
The doctor had warned that she would need to show more compassion and understanding as the disease progressed.
But she found this part hard. Whenever her father wallowed in self-pity, bemoaning his life now trapped in a wheelchair, and perhaps soon losing the capacity to stand or even feed himself, all she could think about was the beatings he’d handed out when she was a child.
Although his features had sagged and become sallow, she could still remember the look on his face as he hit her with his belt, the hard lines contorted with fury as he blustered about how ungrateful a child she was.
And it was exactly the same now when he confronted her.
His face was lined with indignant aggression, as if the world owed him something and he was going to take his pound of flesh out on her.
She could find no sympathy in her heart for him.
Which was when the guilt took over. He was her Fader, and he was sick and in need of help.
She was his daughter. How could she still hate him so much?
Time didn’t seem to have healed any wounds.
Aurora finished pouring the beers——then plastered a smile on her face and took all three into the living room.
Setting the cup down on the small table next to her father, she said, “A special treat because we have a guest.” She couldn’t very well exclude him, but she would make sure this was the only one he had.
Handing Jiro his glass, she took a seat next to him.
“Thanks.” Jiro clinked his glass against hers and then turned and waited patiently as Karl picked his up in a shaking hand and slowly brought it to meet theirs.
It was only then Aurora noticed that, for the first time in months, the habitual scowl had lifted from Karl’s face.
He was actually smiling, and Aurora was a little taken aback.
She’d always known that Karl preferred the company of men.
Whenever he’d been in a foul mood, he’d loudly reiterated to Aurora that he wished she’d been born a boy.
It was one more of Aurora’s disappointing flaws that she could do nothing about; not in his eyes anyway.
One more reason she’d failed to live up to his expectations.
But she hadn’t realized how much Karl’s personality changed in the company of another man.
She’d been worried he might’ve been jealous she’d brought a boyfriend home.
But as soon as she’d identified him as a friend only, Karl had jumped at the chance to talk to a real man for once.
Perhaps tonight would not be as unbearable as she’d first thought.