It works. Shirine’s teary sad-face transforms into a sparkling smile.
“You’re just jealous. Eighty degrees in the shade all week long.”
“Don’t forget your sunscreen.” I laugh.
She nods, wrinkling her nose.
“Can I ask you something, Shirine?”
“Of course.”
I hesitate. I try to find the right words, but it’s not easy.
I lay awake all night, thinking about Dad. Why did he claim I came home much earlier that night than I actually did?
“How far would you go to protect your daughter?”
“I’m not quite sure what you mean,” Shirine says. “I would do anything for Lovisa. I think any parent would.”
“Perjury?”
“Huh?”
Shirine shoots me a look of suspicion.
“It means lying under oath.”
“I know what it means, but I’m pretty sure you can’t be forced to testify under oath against your own child.”
“No, but forget the details. Would you lie in court to protect Lovisa?”
“That’s a tough one,” she says, apparently thinking it over. “It depends…”
“Come on.”
“Okay,” she says, with resolve. “I’m sure I would do everything in my power. Even lie. In court.”
“Good.”
“I bet a parent could do the most unimaginable things to save their child.”
“But my dad does things for his own sake. Or so that other people won’t find out that he and his family aren’t as perfect as he wants them to be.”
A prominent wrinkle appears on Shirine’s forehead. She doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“Know what? I don’t think that’s so unusual. I suppose we all want our families to appear a little more harmonious and faultless than they really are.”
I shake my head. Shirine doesn’t get it; she can’t even imagine what it’s like.
“My dad didn’t want to raise me. He wanted to create me, as if he was God himself. He wanted me to be exactly like him. No, wait, he wanted me to be the way he imagined a daughter of his would be. And when it didn’t turn out that way…”
That’s all I can manage. My voice gives out and fades away.
“I actually don’t believe that your dad would lie about just anything to protect himself or his family’s reputation.”
I turn away from her. What the hell does Shirine know about my father?
“Then why is he doing it?”
“Because it’s what dads do. Because he loves you.”
I won’t look at her. I want to say something mean, something hurtful, something to poke a hole in this sentimental mood, but I can’t muster a single word.
“It’s going to be okay, Stella.”
I feel her gentle hand on my arm and all I want is for her to leave.
“Hey,” she whispers.
The tears make my eyes overflow. Jesus, just go!
She slowly strokes my back. It makes me feel safe and hopeful, but at the same time I know she’s about to leave me. Soon she’ll be sitting on a lounge chair by the pool on some Canary Island, tickling little Lovisa until her sides split.
I shove her hand away without meeting her gaze.
“I have to go now,” Shirine says.
I still have my back to her.
“I really have to go now, Stella.”
“Okay.”
I turn around and see her at the door. She’s peering back over her shoulder and shifting slowly back and forth from foot to foot.
“Okay,” I say again.
Then I take two steps forward and put my arms around her neck.
I’m crying again. Letting everything pour out of me.
Shirine hugs me hard, for a long time.
“Good luck now,” she whispers.
I don’t respond. I have no voice.
81
I straddled my bike in the alley by the deli. It had gone too far. Too damn far. Linda Lokind was still following me, even though I’d broken up with Chris. Cautiously I peered over to the bus stop, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.
I shook off a shudder, took out my phone, and called Amina. When she didn’t answer, I tried text, Messenger, and Snapchat, but it was radio silence everywhere.
Each noise and movement made me twist my body. My heart was pounding. I felt hunted, and I didn’t want to be alone.
As I quickly led my bike toward the cathedral, I weighed my options. Obviously I could rejoin my coworkers at Stortorget. I wouldn’t need to say why I was back, and it would still make me feel safer to sit with them for a while.