“I know,” Amina croaked; she seemed to be clinging to the balcony door to keep from falling over.
“Go back to bed.”
“I suppose it’s only a matter of time before Stella comes down with the same bug,” I said. “Because you two were hanging out last night, weren’t you?”
Amina’s expression froze. It only took half a second, maybe tenths of a second, but Amina’s expression froze and I knew immediately what that meant.
“Right.” Amina coughed. “Hope she’s okay.”
“Now get back to bed,” said Ulrika.
Amina pulled the door closed and dragged herself back to the living room.
Lying is an art that few people fully master.
4
If it weren’t for our daughters, Ulrika and I probably never would have become friends with Alexandra and Dino.
Amina and Stella were six when they ended up on the same handball team. Most of their teammates were a year older, but it wasn’t very noticeable. Both Amina and Stella showed a winner’s instinct early on. They were strong, stubborn, and unstoppable. Amina, in contrast with Stella, also had an unusually gifted sense for executing planned strategies and plays.
During those first practices, Ulrika and I sat on the bleachers in the sweaty gym and watched our little girl run herself absolutely ragged. We had seldom seen her so free and happy as she was on the handball court. Dino was single-handedly coaching the girls’ team; he was extremely engaged, passionate, and generous, and gave the little handball players lots of love. But there was one problem: his body language. He displayed explosive joy through gestures and expressions when one of the girls succeeded on the court, but he was equally free when expressing his distress if something went wrong. Naturally, this was a matter of concern to Ulrika and me, and we discussed it after every practice. I suggested we talk to the other parents or perhaps go to the club council. We really liked Dino as a coach. Maybe he was simply unaware of how his body language could be interpreted.
“It’s better to talk to him personally,” Ulrika said, and after the next practice she walked up to Dino, who, rumor had it, had once played handball on a pretty high level himself.
I hovered in the background as Dino listened to Ulrika. Then he said, “You seem to have a knack for this. Would you like to be my colleague?”
Ulrika was so taken aback that she couldn’t respond. When she finally managed to speak, she pointed in my direction and said that I was the one who actually knew anything about handball and would make an excellent assistant coach for him.
“Okay,” Dino said, looking at me. “The job is yours.”
The rest, as they say, is history. We led that team to win after win, traveled around half of Europe, and brought home so many trophies and medals that there wasn’t room for them all in Stella’s bookcase.
Amina and Stella were quickly compatible on the court. With finesse and cleverness, Amina got the ball to Stella, who tore herself free from the line without ever yielding until the ball was in the goal. But that winner’s instinct had its downsides. Stella was only eight when things went off the rails for the first time. During a match at F?ladshallen, she received a pass from Amina, smooth as butter, and found herself alone with the goalie but missed the breakaway. Quick as a wink, she caught the ball as it bounced back and threw it full force at the goalie’s face from three meters off.
Chaos ensued, of course. The coach and parents of the opposing team rushed the court and fell upon Stella and me.
She didn’t mean to. Stella never aimed her rage at anyone but herself. Upset by the missed goal, she had simply reacted impulsively. She was full of regret to the point of being crushed.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
This became a recurring phrase. Almost a mantra.
Dino liked to say that Stella was her own worst enemy. If only she could conquer herself, there would be no stopping her.
It was just that she found it so darned difficult to control her emotions.
Aside from that, it was easy to like Stella. She was thoughtful and had a strong sense of justice; she was energetic and outgoing.
Amina and Stella soon lived in close symbiosis even off the handball court. They were in the same class, bought similar clothes, listened to the same music. And Amina was a good influence on Stella. She was charming and quick, caring and ambitious. When Stella began to slip, Amina was always there to get her back into balance.
I only wish Ulrika and I had taken Stella’s problems more seriously. That we had reacted earlier. I’m ashamed to admit it, but apparently our greatest hurdle was our pride. Ulrika and I both considered it a radical failure to turn to the institutions of society. It may seem egotistical, but at the same time it’s very human, and it might not have been entirely misguided. We had demanded a lot of ourselves, to be the best parents we could be, but we were unable to live up to our own requirements.