Chapter 12 Stella #3
They didn’t think there was anything structural to worry about for my apartment, but until they could fully check out everything, they didn’t want me to go upstairs yet. However, they offered to have one of their staff grab a few things for me while they were upstairs inspecting everything.
Thankfully they had a female on staff, because I really didn’t want one of the men going through my bra and underwear drawers. I gave her a small list of things and told her where my duffel bag was to throw everything into.
My plan was to change at my parents’ house, though I knew that by doing that, I would have to tell them everything that had happened.
I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret from them necessarily.
I just worried about adding stress to my father while he was still recovering.
At least if I did it in person, they could see that I was okay and safe.
“Since there’s not much we can do here now, why don’t we go back to my place and you can change there,” Axel said, and I nodded.
I really wanted to be here while they fixed things, but I realized there would be no demo or big work done until tomorrow when the insurance agent came out, so the more practical solution was changing and going to my parents’ house.
“Tell me about your mom and dad so I know a little before we get there,” Axel requested as he drove us to my parents’ house.
“My dad’s name is Arthur, and he was an electrician. He was always tinkering with things when I was growing up.” I found myself smiling at memories of him taking my mother’s vacuum apart to try to “make it better.”
“My mom is Moira, and she was a pediatric nurse for many years until they adopted me. She decided to become a stay-at-home mom until I went to college, and then she went back to work for a few years again until my dad got sick.”
“You said he had cancer, yes?” Axel asked.
“Yeah, he has sarcoma. It developed in his soft tissue of his left leg and then spread to the bones in his lower leg,” I explained.
“When did he first get it?” Axel asked and then reached over to hold my hand and rest our joined hands on my thigh.
“He was diagnosed my last year of college, but the doctors caught it early, and he responded really well to treatment. We had planned a big trip for my graduation to go visit Sweden and Denmark to see where both our families were from. Basically, we were going to eat our way through Scandinavian foods before I came back to a restaurant job, but we had to postpone the trip.”
His thumb stroked the back of my hand as I continued.
“Even though his treatment went well, he struggled to walk, so we decided to give it some time before we took our trip. A couple years later, it came back. This time, his body didn’t respond so easily to the treatment, so it was a delayed effect getting better.
My mom also wasn’t getting any younger, so it was harder for her to care for him, so I moved back home and decided to start my bakery here so I could be around to help out. ”
“I think it is very noble that you moved home to be close to your dad when he became sick,” he told me, squeezing my hand lightly. “Would it have been easier to make a bakery in Chicago?”
I thought back to my original plan before my dad’s cancer came back.
“Yeah. The bakery I worked at was wonderful. She wasn’t exclusive to Scandinavian desserts, but she incorporated a lot of them thanks to me.
My boss at the time was great and had offered me the chance to open a second location, where I would have full control of the menu.
It would have been much easier because I wouldn’t have had to put as much capital up front, but I also wouldn’t have owned it outright. ”
I sighed, thinking back on it all. “In the end, I’m happy I moved home. Not just to be near my parents, but also because I own my own bakery and made it exactly what I wanted.”
“Will you still go to Sweden and Denmark when he gets better?” he asked me, and I appreciated his optimism that my dad would, in fact, get better.
“Yes,” I replied as I smiled wistfully, longing for that trip.
“Right now, we’re just waiting for his physical therapist to give us the all clear.
He still struggles to walk even though his treatments stopped more than a year ago, so he’s in remission, but we just need to get him walking better so he can enjoy everything. ”
Axel didn’t say anything, but he lifted my hand that was still intertwined with his and brought it to his lips. He kissed my hand, squeezed it, and then set our joined hands on top of his thigh as we continued to make the hour-long trek to my childhood home.
“Tell me about your family, Axel,” I requested, wanting to change the topic to something more upbeat, but I also just wanted to learn more about the man who was quickly stealing my heart.
“I have a younger sister, Jenny, who lives in Greece with her husband, Simon.”
“Oh, wow. Greece sounds awesome.” I had never been, but it was definitely on my bucket list. “Is her husband from Greece?”
“No, they met in Sweden in college, but he got a job there and she moved with him.” He’d answered my question, but he’d paused before giving his response, almost like he was careful of what to say.
“Any other family?”
“My father, Karl, is a lawyer and my mother Ingrid is an accountant,” he said. “They still live in Sweden and work together at the same big law firm, which is owned by my father and was owned by his father before him.”
“Oh, that’s cool. Did you ever consider working for them?”
It didn’t feel like an odd question, but the mood in the car changed. The minute I asked, his hand—which was still connected to mine—flinched his face became stoic, and his mood had definitely soured.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” I didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than I already had.
He squeezed my hand again, but this time softer, like he had earlier. “Sorry. I’m not upset with you. It is just a…how do you say…touchy subject. Or is it touching subject?”
“If it’s something heartfelt or sensitive in a positive way, then it would be a touching subject,” I replied. “But if it’s more sensitive in an uncomfortable way and upsets you, then it is a touchy subject.”
He nodded and appeared to catalogue that for memory later. “Then I mean touchy.”
“Oh. You don’t have to talk about that,” I said softly.
I was trying to think of something else to ask that would still give me insight into him, but we exited off the highway. Resigned for now, I put the topic to rest as I guided Axel the last few streets to get to my parents’ neighborhood.
Hopefully, time with my family wasn’t going to be even more awkward than the last few minutes of this car ride had been.
However, I knew my parents, which meant there was a high probability of embarrassing moments in my immediate future.