Swordplay

Part 7

When her shift was over, she slept a few hours. Then, she hurried to the hospital to visit Franka and Tord. She found them in good spirits.

"Oh, Moira!" Franka, sitting upright in her bed, hugged her vehemently and nearly choked her. "Promise you'll be my bridesmaid."

"Why do you want to get married so fast? You've barely known each other for more than eight months." Confused, Moira looked at Tord, who was grinning from one ear to the next despite the head bandage and the heavily wrapped chest.

"The events on the dig woke me," he said. "Life is too short to waste it."

Franka grabbed her hand. "And I want you to become the godmother of our first child."

"Woa, don't rush it. There will be enough time later." Moira felt the world crumble under her feet. She bent down to Franka and whispered in her ear. "I like Tord and know how much he loves you, but maybe you should enjoy married life before you begin thinking about kids."

Franka laughed. "Too late. And you sound like my mother. Come on, be happy for us."

Moira pulled up an eyebrow and looked from Tord to Franka and back. Tord's grin had grown even wider. Her knees turned to jelly. "That's not true, is it? You're kidding me."

Tord and Franka shook their heads simultaneously.

"You are really pregnant?"

A united nod.

"Dear me. And I thought you became unconscious due to shock." Moira slumped on a chair beside Franka's bed because her legs wouldn't carry her any more. This news was hard to digest.

"That too." Franka beamed at her just as happily as Tord. "Imagine. I didn't even notice although I'm already three months along."

"How wonderful for you." Moira noticed her congratulations sounded hollow, but she didn't know if she should cry or laugh. When Franka became a wife and mother, she'd have even less time for Moira. The only consolation was that no one would nag her again when she got lost in her books. She tried not to let the lovers know her true feelings. Why does everything have to be so complicated? All the same, she liked Franka enough not to be envious of her happiness. At least, Tord isn't like Dad. With a crooked smile, she hugged Franka.

"Please excuse that I can't be really happy just now. I have to grasp the concept of being a godmother first."

Franka held her tight. "I am sooooo looking forward to the kid, and you will surely be the best auntie in the world."

Moira freed herself from the hug. "Why do you have to stay? A pregnancy is no illness."

"They want to make sure the child didn't suffer from the fall. I may go home tomorrow after the docs visit. Will you have the time to go shopping for a wedding gown?"

"Tomorrow? How soon do you plan do wed?"

Tord and Franka laughed.

"What a pity that you haven't found the right one yet. I would have loved a double wedding. Do you remember how we promised each other to get married together?" While Franka began to tell anecdotes of their childhood, Moira remembered what happened after the oath.

 ***

It had been the Saturday after her eight birthday, and she had celebrated merrily the whole afternoon. Franka was the last to leave since she lived next door.

"See you tomorrow," Moira called after her. Then, she hurried into the sitting room, where her mother cleared the party leftovers from the table. Moira pressed her nose against the windowpane waiting for her dad. Her breath condensed on the glass, and she drew the logo of the Gendarmerie Magique with her finger. After hesitating shortly, she drew the logo of her dad's new security firm beside it. "Why does he always have to work that long, Mom?"

"That's the way it is when you try to build up something new." Her mother stroked her hair. "You'd better get ready for bed. I'll call you when he comes home."

Reluctantly, Moira went to the bathroom. While she brushed her teeth and changed, she listened intently for the slamming of a carpisto door in front of the house. Nothing. Waiting, Moira sat in her bed and tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on the book that had been one of her gifts. Finally, she heard her father's footsteps on the stairs.

She jumped out of bed and ran to him. Her tummy bursting with love, she threw her arms around his muscular belly and pressed her face into him. He smelled of cigars and leather.

"Did you have a nice day, princes?" Tired, he put his hans on her head. "Happy birthday, dear." He kissed her cheek and vanished in his bureau.

Moira crawled back to bed. In vain, she waited for him to come in for a goodnight kiss. She heard him pace up and down in his room, then, the stairs creaked. On tiptoes, she followed him. From the top of the stairs, she watched him stop in front of the kitchen. He was carrying a small suitcase.

"Well then," he said. "I'll fetch the rest later. Don't you think I should tell her at least …"

"No." Her mother's voice cut him short. Wordlessly, her turned and left the house.

As quietly as she could, Moira slipped into the sitting room. She was just in time to watch his carpisto roll down the driveway, turn at the next crossing, and vanish.

"Dad." The whispered word rang through the empty room like a shout.

She bit her lip to keep from crying. Why didn't he say goodbye when he had to go on a trip? Hesitantly, she went into the kitchen. Her mother sat at the table with stony features and clung to a steaming mug of coffee.

"He's gone," she said with a flat voice.

"But he'll come back, won't he?"

Moira's mother sipped and stared at her feet. For a long time, she didn't speak. Moira's heart burned, and the longer her mother stayed silent, the more she feared her answer.

"Your father has a new family now. He doesn't need us any more." Moira's mother looked up into her daughter's eyes. "Now, it's only the two of us."

Moira felt as if hit on the head and whirled around for hours. She was dizzy and ill. Wordlessly, she turned, staggered back into her room, and slumped on her bed. Her heart hurt as if someone was cutting it with a sharp knife, but she couldn’t cry. At the same time, anger boiled in her veins.

She stayed awake for a long time. Only when morning dawned, she felt her tiredness. "No one's gonna hurt me like that again," she said to Cuddly Ted. "Never, ever."

His black button eyes seemed to ask, "How will you do that?"

"I will stop loving people. I won't even love you." She hurled Cuddly Ted into a big box of toys and curled up. When the church bells in the distance rang six times, she fell asleep without dreaming.

 ***

And I've been successful in keeping the promise all these years, Moira thought. Only Franka didn't let her withdraw from their friendship. She had forced herself into her life until Moira simply accepted her like a given. Now, Franka wanted to get married. Would she lose her best friend now? Her only friend? Why did the thought scare her so much?

She breathed deeply and swallowed her tears. I knew this would happen sooner or later. Faking a smile she hoped looked sincere, she inquired about the couple's plans. "Will you have enough room for another family member?"

The door opened, and a nurse with a clinical thermometer entered, but Franka ignored her. "We had already planned to move into a bigger flat. Tord's professor asked him to become his assistant, and offered a four room flat in the archeology branch of the dorm, right under the roof where the professors live."