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Flyn looks at his uncle, and when he sees him nod, he smiles. Then he looks at the white puppy.
“His name will be Calamar,” he says, after winking at me.
A huge knot of emotions wells up in my throat. The little boy holds out his thumb in front of me. I hold out mine, and we finish with a high five. Eric kisses me on the neck.
“Whenever you want, you know ... ,” he whispers into my ear while we watch Flyn play happily, “I’ll marry you.”
31
As the days go by, my face goes back to the way it was, and when the doctor gets rid of the stitches on my chin under Eric’s careful eye, I’m pleased with his handiwork. You can’t see a scar, and that makes me happy.
After Susto and Calamar come to live with us, the house is full of laughter, barking, and craziness. For the first few days, Eric complains. He gets mad when he finds puddles of Calamar’s pee on the floor, but he finally throws in the towel. Susto and Calamar adore him, and he adores them.
Many mornings when I get up, I like to peek out the window and see my Iceman throwing a stick for Susto to chase. It’s become a habit before he goes to work. Some weekends, I convince Eric and Flyn to take walks through the snowy fields with the dogs. Susto loves it, and Eric plays with him while Flyn runs around us with Calamar. I love all of it. Especially when I see how Eric crouches down and hugs Susto. My cold, hard Iceman is thawing out with every passing day, and I’m falling in love with him more and more.
I’ve also gone with Eric to the Olympic shooting field several times. I’m still not crazy about the whole gun thing, but I enjoy seeing how well he does it.
Flyn has gotten much better on his skateboard and his in-lines. He’s a smart guy, and he learns fast. We practice in secret when Eric’s out of the house. Simona smiles, and Norbert grumbles and warns me the boss will be angry when he finds out. I know he’s right, but I can’t stop teaching the kid. His attitude has changed so much, and now he’s always coming to me and asking for help.
Eric sometimes watches us, and he knows something’s happened between us to cause such a change in the boy. When he asks, I chalk it up to the dogs’ arrival in the house. He agrees, but I know he’s not convinced. He doesn’t ask again.
The first day I can secretly get away with Jurgen to let off steam on the bike is a blast. Spending so many days doing nothing in the house almost drives me crazy, so I jump, skid, and scream with Jurgen and his friends down the goat paths outside Munich. I think of Eric. I should tell him. The problem is I can never find the right moment. It’s starting to torture me. Our relationship is built on trust, and this time I’m letting him down.
One afternoon when I’m messing with my bike in the garage, Flyn arrives home from school. He comes looking for me, and when he finds me, he stares at the bike, obviously amazed. He says he remembers it. I tell him it’s his mother’s bike and he has to keep the secret from his uncle.
“Do you know how to ride it?”
“Yes,” I answer, my hands dirty with grease.
“Uncle Eric’s going to get mad.”
His words distress me. Everyone, absolutely everyone, knows Eric will get mad.
“I know, darling. But when he met me, Uncle Eric knew I did motocross. He knows it, and he has to understand I like to play this sport.”
“He knows?”
“Yes,” I affirm, smiling when I remember how he found out.
“And he lets you?”
That question doesn’t surprise me, and I try to clarify.
“Your uncle doesn’t ‘let me.’ I’m the one who decides whether I want to do motocross. We adults decide for ourselves, darling.”
Not seeming very convinced, the boy nods.
“Did Sonia give you my mother’s bike?”
“Would it bother you if she did?”
Flyn thinks about it.
“No. But you have to promise you’ll teach me,” he says, which catches me off guard.
I finally smile and let out a laugh.
“What, you want your uncle to kill me?”