Pretty Aunt Frida❤️‍🔥

Don't Let Go.

(Oh, you know they love you when they willingly give you their food! XD ) 💚

May 3rd, 1989.
7:45 PM.

A groggy Frida awoke to the phone ringing, Ludvig prodding at her side.
"Mamma, the phone's ringing." He pointed out the obvious.
"Mhh..." She mumbled sleepily, cuddling into her pillow.
"Mammaaaa-" Ludvig said again, this time shaking his mother gently.
"What, Luddie?! I'm trying to sleep here." Frida snapped as she glared at her baby boy, tired eyes peeping out over the duvet. This pregnancy in particular had been a rough one, and poor Ludvig and Benny were getting the full brunt of her fluctuating hormones.

"I'm sorry." Ludvig smiled meekly, kissing her cheek. Frida suddenly realised that she possibly upset him, so decided to make amends straight away.
"It's not your fault, darling. I'll go down and check the phone, then I can read you a story- if you'd like that, of course." Anni-Frid often had to remind herself that her son wasn't a rambunctious 3 year old anymore. However, Ludvig seemed delighted with the idea, and nodded shyly.

Slowly rising from her bed, she went to the other side of the room to grab the phone, twiddling the cord around her fingers absentmindedly.

"Hello? This is Anni-Frid, how can I help you?"
"Mrs Andersson, do you have a chair nearby?" A serious voice spoke, confusing the exhausted woman.
"Uh, yes I do. Why would I need to sit down?" Frida frowned, worry slowly but surely taking over her mind. Benny still wasn't back yet...

"Are you sitting? Good, good. I don't quite know how to say this. At around 6:07 PM, Mr Andersson was hit by a drunk driver after coming out of a flower shop. He was taken to the hospital, but is in critical condition. We have been trying to contact you for almost an hour but no one picked up-"

"Benny's in the hospital?" Frida's words got caught in her throat, struggling to process this information. Her Benny? Critical condition? No, that was impossible. It had to be. It just had to.

"Yes-" The man was then cut off again.
"You're lying! You, you-" She heard her voice become raised, suddenly filled with intense venom.

"Mrs Andersson, I assure you we wouldn't lie about something as serious as this. If you don't believe me, fine. But if you just go down to the hospital, you'll see that I'm telling the truth. I understand that it's hard to comprehend, but there's no use taking it out on the messenger." The young girl on the other line sighed.

"Will he be okay?" Frida swallowed, barely keeping her composure.
"I don't know, if I could tell you I really would. I'm so sorry." And that's when 'Mrs Andersson hung up.

"Mamma?" She looked down at the pair of large blue eyes staring up at her. Benny's eyes. And they were frightened. Very frightened indeed.
"How much did you hear?" Frida stroked his rosy cheek with her thumb.

"I heard enough. When are we leaving to go see pappa?" This wasn't much of a question, it sounded more like a statement.

"Pack a bag and get in the car." She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

********

"Where's my husband?!" Frida asked frantically, looking at the receptionist with wide eyes. Ludvig clung to her hand, hiding in his mother's warmth and trying to block out the sounds of a raucous city hospital.
"What's your husband's name?" He looked up, noting her distress.

"Göran Bror Benny Andersson." She said in a rush, taking a large gulp from her water bottle.
"Room 22, private." He directed Frida where to go, moving on to the next frantic person who required his assistance.