Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
FREYA
Icheck my phone for the hundredth time this afternoon. Nothing. I place it in the top drawer of my desk and shut it with more force than necessary.
He’s fine.
Everything’s fine.
I’ve spent the entire day trying to talk myself out of calling Oscar, to see how it’s going at the station. I’m sure if he needed anything, then he’d call.
There’s been a steady stream of customers since around noon, but it still hasn’t been busy enough to distract me from my anxious mind.
I want to help him, but I don’t know how.
He’s been so closed off, not wanting to burden me with his feelings.
It’s like no matter how many times I say it, he doesn’t believe that I actually want to know everything he’s going through, that I want to help carry some of the weight of it.
I know there’s no way I’ll ever truly understand, but I wish he’d let me try.
The door chimes and a young man comes in, giving me a quick smile before making a beeline for the pegboard. I leave him to it, he seems to know what he’s doing. I go back to my laptop where I’m working on supplier invoices, trying to keep myself busy.
I work through them in a daze, only stopping when the man comes up to the counter to pay for his yarn.
“Thanks,” he says quietly as he goes, stopping in the doorway to let someone else in. I look up, ready to greet them, but my chest clenches so hard I can’t get the words out.
The last time I saw Joni she was being led out of the station by her sister, eyes hollow, hands grasping like she was trying to hold on to something that wasn’t there.
Seeing her now, she still looks nothing like the woman I met at that party.
She looks wrecked. Her red-brown hair is pulled back into a messy bun and her lips are drawn into a tight line.
She’s holding a plastic bag and I can see her knuckles blanched white where she grips it.
I stand, feeling as though I should go to her and wrap her in a hug, but I stop myself. She hardly knows me, would she even want that?
“Joni, hi,” I manage to get out.
“Hey, Freya.” She gives me a strained smile.
“How are, um…” I trail off, realizing that it’s a stupid question.
She gives a slow nod. “I’m staying with my sister.” It’s not exactly an answer, but it’s enough.
I shuffle toward her. I hate how awkward I’m being, but I have no idea what to say, how I can help.
Eventually, she takes pity on me and starts talking again. “I came to bring you this.” She holds out the bag to me and I take it, placing it on the desk to open it. Inside is a bundle of green fabric. I pull it out to reveal a cable knit sweater, way too big to be Joni’s.
“Is this….?”
“That’s Mack’s.” She says with a solemn nod. “It’s one of his favorites. Was,” she corrects with a grimace.
“Does it need repairing?” I run my fingers over it, but I can’t see any visible damage. It’s a chunky knit made of a soft wool. “It’s beautiful.”
“I got it for his birthday, right after we got married. He wore it every day for a week.”
“That’s lovely.”
“His birthday’s in July.” She chuckles. “Eventually I had to put my foot down. He was gonna ruin it by sweating in it so much.”
“He must have really loved it.”
“I, um—” She looks down at her hands, her smile gone. “I was reading about children, and grief. I saw someone saying about making a piece of clothing into a teddy or a blanket, so they have something to hold.” She rushes it out, like she’s been practicing. “I was hoping you could do that?”
I look down at the jumper, checking the seams to make sure it’ll be safe to unpick. “Did you have something in mind?”
“A blanket, I think. I know it’ll only be small, but she can have it in bed with her. He can be with us when I tuck her in.”
Tears gather at the backs of my eyes, but I blink them away.
“Of course.” I clear my throat, getting back to the practicalities.
“I can either take it apart and reknit it completely, or do a kind of patchwork thing. Doing a reknit would probably work better, and I can even keep the cable design so it looks the same, but if you wanted to preserve this exact version of the sweater then I can take out a panel and add a border or something?”
She steps forward, looking to see what I’m talking about. “Whatever you think is best. I trust you.”
I choke up a little. “I’ll take really good care of it.”
She reaches out to squeeze my hand. “I know you will, just let me know what I owe you.”
“No. No, this is a gift.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, let me do this.”
“Thank you.” She squeezes my hand again. “I’d better go. Birdie’s at the park with Marion.”
“How is she?”
Joni gives a sad smile. “She’s alright. She doesn’t really understand what’s going on.”
“Kids are really resilient.” I know it’s trite as I say it, but I’ve got nothing else.
“She keeps asking for him.”
“Joni,” I whisper. What else is there to say?
She sniffs, pulling her shoulders back. “It was great to see you.”
“You too. I’ll let you know when I’m finished with this.”
“Of course, take your time.”
She gives me one more tight smile as she goes. I watch her through the windows, but she only makes it a few steps before stopping. She smiles at someone I can’t see, but when they step around the windowpane, all the air rushes out of me.
Oscar.
He must have just finished early at the station. I try to read the lines of his face, hoping it’ll give me some clue as to how it went, but I can’t make out anything. He gives Joni a tight hug and they exchange a few words before she heads off in the direction of the park.
Oscar’s brows are drawn into a deep furrow as he enters. He greets me with a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, but he seems distracted.
“How was it?” I ask, touching the front of his jacket with one hand. He’s giving off such a strange energy, I almost feel like I need to hold him here so that he doesn’t bolt.
“Chief called, asked me to be acting captain.”
“Okay,” I say gently. “You knew that was a possibility though, right?” He’s mentioned it a few times, but he’s never wanted to talk about it much.
“Yeah, but now it’s real.”
“You’ll do great. The crew look up to you so much.” I try to reassure him, but he won’t quite look at me.
“Sure, I guess.”
“What’s going on?” I frown up at him.
“I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“You can. I know you can.”
“I just… Fuck, Freya. I’m such a mess right now.”
“That’s okay. Tell me how I can help.” I reach to touch his cheek, trying to get him to face me.
He takes a step back and my heart lurches. What is this? I know he was stressed about going back to the station today, but I don’t know why he’s being so distant?
“I don’t need help.” I flinch back at the sharpness in his tone. He grimaces. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
His eyes shine and my feet move of their own accord. I step back into his space, reaching up to catch the first tear that traces a line down his cheek. He squeezes his eyes shut, not letting any more break out.
“I don’t want to drag you into all my shit,” he says.
Oh, Oscar. Always the one to hold up everyone else. Why can’t he see that that’s what I want to be for him too?
I give his lapels a shake. “You’re not dragging me anywhere, I’m chasing after you, you idiot.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Freya, you don’t deserve this.”
“Let me decide what I deserve.”
His head drops, like he can’t hold up the weight of it anymore. “Freya.”
I pull him into me, wrapping him in my arms. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
“I love you,” he mumbles into my hair. “I don’t want to hurt you. I feel like I’m a black cloud, like I’ll ruin everything.”
My chest cracks open. “Oscar, baby, you’re grieving. That’s not gonna ruin anything. You’re not going to hurt me just because you’re in pain. That’s not who you are. I just want to be with you. I want to help.”
“Okay,” he breathes. I try to hold him tighter. It’s like he’s a ghost, like he could disappear at any second. “Okay.”