Page 80 of Ship Wrecked

A few times over the year she’d spent in their apartment, she’d overheard intense, low-voiced discussions about scraping together enough money for spaghetti and whatever fruit was on sale that week and maybe an outfit she hadn’t already outgrown.

Their decision to give her up made sense. It had made sense to her even then. They were in a difficult position with no good options, and they’d chosen one. It didn’t mean they were bad people.

Still, when they’d called her into that tiny, cluttered kitchen and told her their big news and what it meant for her own future, she’d been fiercely glad she’d never called themmammaandpappaas they’d said she could, never committed her heart as fully as she had with Inga. Even though her slight emotional remove had hurt the couple’s feelings at times.

Maybe that was spiteful of her. But sometimes only spite had kept her functioning after they’d left her, kept her going to school and smiling and trying to make friends as she bounced from home to home, none of the placements lasting long.

“So they let you go.” His chest expanded as he inhaled slowly, and his even slower exhalation tickled her cheek. “Okay.”

The words might still be quiet, but he sounded like he’d gargled rocks, and the legs bracketing hers might as well have been stone.His thumb kept whispering over the cheek of the lost, devastated, distrustful girl she hadn’t been for a long, long time.

“Itisokay,” she told him, patting that restless hand.

The silence following her reassurance was absolute. So heavy it should have crashed through the chaise and the wooden floorboards below them and bored a hole deep in the earth.

His jaw began making a weird grinding noise she’d never heard before.

“Don’t worry,” she rushed to add. “A few months later, my parents adopted me, and they didn’t fuck around. They made everything permanent and legally binding as soon as they possibly could.”

As an adult, she’d understood why. They’d meant to declare in every conceivable way, both to her and to the authorities: This placement was forever.Theywere forever. Her new family would never leave her, would always want and love her, would always choose her.

And in retrospect, she’d also understood how big a gamble that decision was, because before the adoption went through, she spoke to her parents and siblings only when absolutely necessary. She didn’t trust them, she didn’t intend to get comfortable in their home, and she sure as hell wasn’t allowing them anywhere near her heart.

She was polite and uncomplaining, but chilly and distant as northernmost Lappland. A stranger in every fundamental way.

When they adopted her, they didn’tknowher.

“But we already loved you” was her father’s perennial response whenever she said so. “That heart of yours was too big to hide, no matter how hard you tried. And you triedveryhard,älskling. Frankly, we were impressed by your level of commitment. It’s a shame TED Talks weren’t around back then, because you could have given a lecture on how to remain stone-faced and uncommunicative in the face of blatant bribery and embarrassingly effusive displays of affection.”

They’d tried the ice cream trick on her too. It hadn’t worked.

But that was the least of it. Gods above, Astrid had latched on to her like a tick from the beginning. And whenever her younger sister wasn’t clinging to her leg, Vincent and Filip were walking Maria to school and taking her to movies on the weekends and sneaking her absurd amounts of candy. Worst of all, every one of the five Ivarssons could sense when her defenses were low and pounced immediately, like lions stalking a hapless blond gazelle who was really trying very hard not to have her heart broken yet again.

They asked if Maria would like to redecorate her bedroom, because Stina loved assembling furniture, sewing curtains, and hanging wallpaper—especially with company. If Maria wanted to learn how to bake a raspberry roll cake the same way Olle’s late mother had, so he could pass on the tradition to the next generation of Ivarssons. If Maria was willing to have Vincent teach her some self-defense moves, so if anyone at school ever gave her a hard time, she could make them pay. If Maria would consider playing catch with Astrid in the backyard. If Maria needed a tutor for any of her classes, because Filip would be delighted to help her with whatever subjects she found difficult.

They were fucking relentless. Despite her best intentions and considerable stubbornness, she couldn’t hold the line for longer than a few months after the adoption became final.

Eventually, when they asked if they could hug her, she said yes and hugged them back.

Eventually, she started laughing again.

Eventually, the nightmares ended and she no longer woke in tears.

Eventually, she called Stinamammaand Ollepappa.

Eventually, when they said they loved her, she saidjag älskar dig också, and her voice didn’t even shake.

Eventually, she believed them when they said they weren’t going anywhere, and neither was she. Not unless and until she was ready. Which she hadn’t been... until six years before, when she’d boarded a plane for LA and committed to spending months of her life far away from her family for the first time since they’dbecomefamily.

Six years before, when she’d found herself in the same sauna as the man vibrating with suppressed emotion and holding her with such tense care in her parents’ dark, quiet house.

All that emotion and all that care were for her, experienced and offered on behalf of the girl she once was, which felt like a different kind of embrace. Both were appreciated, but both were also needless, which he’d discover shortly.

“Turn the page,sötnos,” she said, then planted a kiss on that very feature. “See what happens next.”

His thumb stilled on her child’s face, and after a moment, he obeyed.

Olle’s photo choices explained more clearly than words ever could. The first page, she was cold and disconnected and lost. But a few pages later, she was smiling, posing awkwardly, giggling as Vincent tickled her, carrying Astrid on her shoulders at a Midsommar celebration, and resting her head on Stina’s shoulder as her mother stroked her hair.

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