Chapter 24: Thursday Night

A couple of weeks later, Anja walked into the living room about an hour after dinner. Her father was in his chair as usual, but the TV was off, and he was just staring into space.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Anja.”

She sat on the padded armrest of the reclining chair and leaned toward him.

“Please, tell me. You look sad. Did I do something?”

“Oh no, Anja. You and I are fine.”

“OK, good. Wait, ‘you and I’? Is it Onni? Mom? The two of them?”

“C’mon, dear, this doesn’t involve you.”

She took a moment and looked at him skeptically.

“I love you. Hey, want a blowjob? No? Please tell me, what is it?”

“Anja, daughter, this isn’t something dads and daughters should be discussing.”

“But, that’s regular families. Not us. You know, something I really appreciate about the Morneaus is that they are all communicating so well, especially now.”

She reached out and took his hand with her hands and caressed it.

“Please tell me. You know I love you.”

Anton sighed.

“Irina has stopped loving me, Anja.”

“What do you mean? I’m not seeing you quarrel. You still talk to each other.”

“We haven’t had sex in weeks. I miss my wife.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, she’s only been having sex with your brother—more than twice a week, I think. But when I approach her, she says she’s too tired, or has a headache, or some other excuse.”

“This is very bad. I need to talk to her and talk to Onni. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s slowed down a lot with me, too. I haven’t paid much attention, because I have Curtis.”

“Irina is in there with him now. I don’t have much hope that things are going to change.”

“I think we need to try. Mom loves you, she’s just distracted. Tell you what? Come sleep with me in my bed. I know you’re tired and sad. You can just cuddle with me—your grown-up little girl who loves you to pieces. Please!”

“OK, Anja, you’ve always loved cuddles, your whole life. I can’t say no. I never have. When you were little, you used to come up and raise your arms to me, insisting I pick you up and hug you.”

Anja didn’t respond to him in words. She slipped off the armrest, and stood near his legs, and raised her two arms, with a big smile. Anton’s reaction was almost automatic; he struggled out of the soft leather chair and firmly embraced his daughter.

She couldn’t see that his eyes were brimming. He felt sentimental and reminisced about when the children were young. He remembered the younger Irina fretting about the changes to her body from being pregnant. Changes that meant nothing to him, not then, not now.

He followed Anja to her bedroom, and fairly quickly fell asleep. He’d had a busy and stressful day at the university, and then the emotional turmoil of the evening tired him further.