Anna placed the two photographs side by side on the coffee table. They sat up and studied them.
“It’s the same child,” Karen stated. “But in August 1978 she was called Sara and the following July, her name was Anna. That’s just weird.”
They sat in silence for a long time, lost in thought. Anna felt a strange sense of purpose. She wasn’t alone. Karen was there.
“Why would you change a child’s name?” she asked Karen.
“Why don’t you just ask Jens and Cecilie?” Karen suggested.
“True,” Anna said. “And I’m going to. But let’s play detectives. I want to be prepared.”
“Okay,” Karen said, indulging her. “A name usually marks the beginning of a life. You’re named and you go through life with that name. You keep that name—unless you visit a numerologist who tells you you’ll win the lottery, if you change it to Solvej, or something like that.”
Anna started to smile.
“So, a name marks a beginning,” she said slowly. “Cecilie was ill. She had problems with her back.”
“Hmmm,” Karen said. “I do remember something about that. My mom used to say that’s why you were so close to Jens. Because he carried you everywhere during your first year.”
“He was practically a single dad,” Anna said. “Cecilie spent a lot of time in the hospital. Though I think he managed quite well,” she added.
Soon afterward they went to bed.
Saturday morning Anna woke up and, for a moment, she didn’t know where she was. She sat upright, feeling dazed. It was past ten and she was in her bedroom. She couldn’t recall the last time she had slept past ten. She heard muted laughter and got up. She went to the kitchen. The door to Lily’s room was open, and Karen and Lily were sitting on the floor drawing pictures. They had taped paper to the floorboards and were drawing houses and roads as seen from a bird’s perspective. Lily had started furnishing one of the houses with small teddies and furniture from her doll’s house. The radiator was on at full blast, and she could smell toast.
“Hi,” Anna said.
“Mom,” Lily shouted, dropped everything and threw herself into Anna’s arms. Anna lifted up her daughter and sat down on a chair in the kitchen. Lily’s body was warm and soft under her PJs.
“Did you sleep well?” Karen asked. Anna nodded.
“Cool afro,” she said, giving Karen a nod of approval. Karen’s hair was—if possible—even frizzier in the morning. They both burst out laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” Lily asked, confused.
“Auntie Karen’s monster hair,” Anna explained.
“Auntie Karen has a lion on her head, Mom,” Lily said.
Karen and Anna laughed even louder. The kitchen was welcoming, and Anna wanted some toast. With lots of butter and cheese. It was just like the old days. Karen and Anna rolling down a hill in the sunshine, laughing and rolling. They could take on the world. The cow pies they rolled over, the spinning globe, hunger, thirst, everything. As long as they were together.
Karen joined Anna at the table while she ate her breakfast. Lily went back to play in her room. Karen had made coffee. It tasted heavenly.
“What’s behind that door?” Karen asked, pointing over Anna’s shoulder. Anna swallowed her toast and turned around to look at the door to Thomas’s old office, as if seeing it for the very first time. Then she stole a look at Lily who was absorbed by her game.
“It was Thomas’s office when we lived together. I nailed the door shut when he moved out. We didn’t need all that space.” She smiled bitterly.
“What’s inside it now?” Karen wanted to know.
“Nothing,” Anna said, taking another bite of her toast.
“Aha,” Karen said. A short silence followed. Then Karen remembered that Jens had called.
“Seven times on your cell and twice on the landline. I unplugged it so it wouldn’t wake you.” Karen gave Anna a searching look.
“Did you speak to him?”
“No. Your cell is over there.” She gestured to the kitchen counter. “I saw his name come up on the display.”
Another pause. Karen turned on the radio.
“Okay,” Anna said, eventually. “Would you answer it when he calls back? I’m going to Professor Helland’s funeral at one o’clock.” She checked her watch. “Shit, I need to buy flowers… how long is a funeral? Two hours? Three? Would you tell Jens I can meet him at four thirty? At his place. Without Cecilie. And I want him to respect that. I can only stay an hour because I have an important lecture at the Bella Centre at six o’clock, and if Cecilie is there, I’ll leave immediately. All depending, of course, on whether you’re prepared to babysit Lily? I’ll be back between seven and eight,” she added. Karen thought it over.
“Yes, that’s fine,” she said. “But I want a favor in return. I want you to promise me you’ll meet with Troels, properly. I want to be there. I want all three of us to get together and see if we can be friends again. If not, well, then I’ll just have to accept it. But I want you to give it a try, Anna.”
Anna mulled it over, then she held out her hand.
“Deal,” she said.
“Great,” Karen replied.
Jens called while Anna was in the shower.
“He sounded surprised I answered your phone,” Karen said. “I told him you were showering, but you would be at his house at 4:30 p.m. And no Cecilie. He protested to begin with.”
“Yes, it’s tough to do anything without Cecilie.” Anna towel-dried her hair angrily.
“Anyway, he agreed eventually. He sounded really upset.”
Anna disappeared into her bedroom to find some suitable clothes. She decided on black jeans, a thin black sweater, and Chuck Taylors.
“You can’t wear that,” Karen objected. “Chuck Taylors?”
“I wear what I want,” Anna said. “They’ll just have to take me as is.”
They hung out in the living room for another hour. Lily and Karen played with Lego bricks on the floor, and Anna sprawled in an armchair she had dragged to the window. She looked across the rooftops. There was a huge lump in her throat, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw Johannes. His bad skin, his soft gaze, and his hair with the awful red dye that was growing out. Lily came over to her chair.
“Mommy’s crying,” she said. Anna looked at her daughter. She was about to shake her head, deny it, wipe away her tears, and lie, but suddenly the light outside changed and it was as if Lily’s small head glowed.
“I feel really sad,” she said. “Because I have a friend I can’t visit anymore.”
“Why not?” Lily asked.
“Because he’s dead. He’s in heaven.” Anna pointed to the clouds, which had parted and for a moment the columns of light beamed down to the earth. Lily looked in the direction of Anna’s finger and narrowed her eyes.
“He’s kicking a ball around. I think he’s happy. Heaven is a good place, but I’m here on earth, and I’m sad because we can’t see each other.”
“I want to go to heaven,” Lily said, looking longingly out of the window. Anna lifted her daughter onto her lap.
“You will one day,” she said. “But first you need to be here on earth with your mom for a long time.” Lily snuggled up to Anna for a few seconds. Then she climbed down.
“I want to play with Auntie Karen,” she said.
Karen had been watching them.
“It’s terrible what happened to… your friend,” she said quietly. “What was his name?”
“Johannes.”
“It’s terrible what happened to Johannes.”
Anna nodded.
Shortly afterward Anna put on her army jacket and pulled the hood up.
“You’re wearing that?” Karen stared at Anna in disbelief. Anna zipped her jacket up to her chin and flashed her yellow eyes at Karen.