The Orchestra - Sinfónia Lifsins - 65. 63 - Family Connections

Jó and I found Eiri in the kitchen shaking some ice cream off a slightly bent spoon into a bowl. He gave us a huge smile when he noticed us, but Jó nearly had a heart attack. My cousin had turned the kitchen table into a small battle zone, with one of the ice cream tubs ripped open and dripping melted red goo. A spoon bent to almost 90 degrees stuck out of it. The tub with the chocolate ice cream had its corners smashed and a brown stain on the table matched the shape of its lid. Two more bent spoons lay around the cookie dough ice cream tub, which remained closed and weirdly intact in the middle of the mess, like an indestructible fortress overlooking the battlefield.

“You… You got us ice cream.” Jó forced a smile, but even Eiri noticed he wasn’t too happy.

“I’m sorry about the mess, but I’ll it clean up, so don’t worry!” Eiri came around the table to personally give Jó his bowl. “The ice cream was a little more solid than I expected, so I ended up using too much force to get it out.”

“You bent three spoons.”

“Like I said, too much force. But don’t worry, those were the cheap ones. I’m sure our good spoons wouldn’t bend so easily.”

“Three spoons…” Jó’s eyes lingered on the spoons while Eiri tried to make a serious face. Jó sighed, and finally accepted the bowl his husband handed him. “You’re proud of it, aren’t you?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Eiri winked at me. “It would’ve been more awesome if I’d done it with the powers of my mind, but I guess the power of my muscles can be just as impressive.” Eiri made a show of kissing his biceps, and Jó couldn’t hold back a laugh. I laughed too, now that I knew Jó wasn’t as upset as he seemed.

“It’s true that your muscles were the first thing I noticed about you…” Jó squeezed Eiri’s biceps (which were almost as big as my thigh). The gesture itself was quite childish, but his tone carried such a sexual vibe I instinctively stepped back.

Eiri enveloped Jó in his strong arms, getting on tip toes to kiss his neck from behind. “So am I forgiven for my use of extreme, uncontrollable force?”

“You have some strong arguments in your favour. Two of them. Beautiful ones. I guess I can let it go this time.”

“Good, because I don’t plan to let you go for a while.” Eiri winked at me again, but all I could think of was to take my ice cream to my room and finish it there. My cousins shamefully flirting at the tiniest excuse wasn’t anything new to me, and I usually got warm feelings from seeing them expressing their love so openly. But now, with my heart still bleeding out my feelings for Siggi, the last thing I wanted to see was a happy couple doing happy couple things.

They must have noticed my discomfort, because all they did was a quick kiss on the lips. From then on, Jó tried to find conversation topics to distract me, but since Siggi’s presence lingered on everything I liked (music, my job, my boyfriend), we struggled to get a proper conversation going. By the time I went for my second serving, Jó and I had spoken very little, and Eiri had not said a word at all.

“You’re very quiet, Eiri. Are you also thinking of something to distract Gunni with?”

“Not, actually, but if you want to know…” Eiri leaned against Jó too and put the last spoonful of chocolate ice cream in his mouth. Some of it smeared around his lips, giving him the look of a messy child, but the rest of his face became so serious that the impression didn’t last. “Róska called me while I was out in the shop. She invited me to have lunch with her family on Saturday.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?” Jó rubbed his husband’s shoulder. “You said your first meeting went well.”

“Yes, but…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean, nothing is supposed to be wrong. They’re all really nice, and we had a great time together. Magni and Sölvey were joking about how glad they were Róska was no longer their oldest sibling, and how easily I would become their favourite if only I let them play past bedtime! And their mother said that if my mother ever becomes too much of a handful, she wouldn’t mind adopting me too.”

“So are you feeling guilty because they’re making you abandon your mother?” Jó rubbed Eiri’s shoulders still, though Eiri had stopped moving.

“No. I feel guilty because it feels wrong to hide from them the most amazing person I have in my life.”

Eiri threw his body at Jó, and they almost fell from their chairs. Jó held Eiri and tried to comfort him, but they didn’t say anything else.

“But wouldn’t it be ok to come out to them?” I asked. “I know my gaydar has its issues, but Róska seemed anything but straight to me. If they’re ok with her, why wouldn’t they be ok with you?”

“It’s not just about them being ok with me being with another man.” Eiri spoke with his face buried on Jó’s shoulder, so some of his words were hard to hear. “It’s about the possibility that the secret will reach Mum. The more people who know, the greater the risk. It used to be just Aunt Lilla, but now it’s you, Dmitri, his housemates, and Jó’s family. That’s a lot of people who can let it slip. That’s a lot of people holding my relationship with my mother in their hands. I can’t afford to spread this even thinner, even more so because out of everyone who knows, they’re the most likely to have opportunity and motive to spill the beans to her.”

“You think Róska would tell her out of spite? Even if you explain to them how important it is to keep the secret?”

“They already don’t have a high opinion of Mum, after her throwing a shoe at Róska and calling her the spawn of the devil and all that. It won’t take much more for them to decide that they need to be my only family and I’m better off without Mum. Telling them about me and Jó would be like handing them all the weapons they need to make it happen.”

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t tell Eiri that I agreed he would be better without Aunt Margrét messing with his life. She caused him so much stress and pain that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t understand why Eiri insisted in keeping their relationship. His sense of duty and unwillingness to abandon her like his father could only go so far. But this was Eiri and Jó’s business, it was not my place to convince Eiri to change his mind.

“I’ll go to that lunch, but I’ll need to make up something to say if they ask me about relationships and what I’ve been doing with my life all this time.”

“You can always tell them you’re busy now taking care of Gunni and being a responsible adult.” Jó caressed Eiri’s hair. I couldn’t tell what he really thought about Eiri’s insistence to keep the secret, or how much it hurt him to be Eiri’s secret. His focus was on making Eiri feel better and nothing else. “Then whatever they ask, just talk about Gunni like he’s your adored child who makes you proud of everything he does.”

“Gunni is my adored child who makes me proud of everything he does.” Eiri glanced at me with a hint of a smile, though when he noticed how much I wanted to look away and hide from the compliment, his face brightened considerably. “I guess I can try that. Thanks.”

“You know you can count on me for anything.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.”

“You would apparently bend all the spoons and make a mess serving ice cream. How about you eat some more? I think you and Gunni deserve to finish all three tubs today. I won’t even pester you about how unhealthy it is.”

“And this is why you’re the best husband in the world!” Eiri pecked Jó’s cheek. “That said, you’re also the skinniest husband in the world, so there’s no way you’re walking out of here before us! Eat up!”

The ice cream lasted another half hour, and we took another half hour to recover our usual mobility. The sugar rush did its job, though, and I could almost forget about Siggi while wondering if I would ever be able to get off of the chair.

 (...)

Even lying in bed listening to Mozart’s Jupiter symphony with headphones and a sleeping mask wasn’t enough of a distraction once the sugar rush turned to sugar crash. I tried to block all my senses and concentrate only on the music, but it only made me picture the ISO playing the symphony with Siggi staring at me and being his usual lovely musical self. It was easy to forget his rudeness and mean words when he played like that. I could watch him all day, and forgive everything he ever did as soon as he sounded his first note.

But I shouldn’t be thinking like that! I shouldn’t forgive him so easily! Siggi was mean and immature and his lovely playing was nothing compared to that!

Mum had always been able to help me sort my feelings. I needed to talk to her, but she was still at work. I messaged her, and she promised we would be able to talk in half an hour. I spent that time listening to Mozart’s Haffner Symphony, though this time I followed it on the score so I wouldn’t be tempted by scenes of the orchestra making my heart bleed for Siggi’s good and unattainable self again. I almost dropped my phone in the rush to pick it up when it rang.

“Hi, Gunni, I came home as soon as I could. Did something happen?”

Seeing Mum’s tiny face on the phone’s Skype screen was a little underwhelming, but I didn’t have the energy to go all the way to Jó’s office to chat from there. “I’m trying to get over my feelings for Siggi. He’s a horrible person and I’ll keep getting hurt if I hope he’ll get better, but it’s so hard!”

I told her everything about the events at the restaurant, my anger and frustration at Siggi’s behaviour and how it made me realise my feelings for him had to change. I hoped talking through those things would strengthen my resolve to get away from him, but the more I talked, the more I felt that anger and frustration going away. Should I really be so harsh to Siggi? What if I gave him another chance? He couldn’t be such a bad person if Dmitri liked him.

“I know what you’re thinking, Gunni, and I can understand your wish to hang on to this idealised version of Siggi your mind created, but it’ll only bring you more pain. You talk about how Siggi made you angry and how you don’t think you will be able to face him tomorrow, but your feelings for Siggi are, for better or for worse, still strong, and it hurts to consider it could really be over.”

“It does.” I wanted to cry. My eyes stung and my nose got blocked, but the tears didn’t come. “Can I really let it end like this? After everything, after looking up to him for so long… I don’t want to give up! I don’t want to be such a failure! What if Dmitri and I tried harder, if –”

“Gunni, listen to me.” Mum brought her hand to the screen, like she wanted to wipe away the tears that weren’t there. “I know it hurts. I know this isn’t how you hoped your relationship with Siggi would turn out. I know how much you wanted to at least be his friend. But sometimes things happen that are out of our control and we have to accept it’s not meant to be. Siggi is only going to keep hurting you. It doesn’t matter what you do. Unless Siggi changes his behaviour considerably, the best thing you can do is stay away.”

“But what if I can make him change?”

“Wasn’t that what you hoped would happen over the last half year?”

“I know! But if I tried harder…”

“Gunni… I know I can’t make you understand this rationally. Feelings are complicated, and your heart will fight any advice that goes against what it wants. It will hurt, and you’ll cry over what could’ve been, and it’ll hurt so much you’ll want to do anything it takes to make it stop, even if it means letting Siggi hurt you again.”

“I already feel that way.”

“I know.” Mum gave me a sad smile. “I’m lucky that your father was the only person I was ever truly in love with, so I’ve never had the kind of heartbreak you’re going through now. But your father did, and you remind me of him now.”

“Is this something he told you about?” I jumped at the opportunity to talk about my father not only because it would be a good distraction, but because this wasn’t a story I heard before.

“It was more like a confession, actually.” Mum seemed happy to change the subject too. “He told me about this when we decided to get married...”

 (...)

We were at grandpa’s farm to announce our engagement to my family. Our decision to get married had come out of the blue two days earlier, with him suggesting it in a joking tone. But the joke made us consider it for the first time, and we decided it would actually be a good idea. I had just parked my car in front of the house, and Hrafnkell grabbed my hand as I reached for the door.

‘Before we go, there’s something I want to tell you. I kept thinking about it the whole way here. It won’t leave me alone and I’ll feel horrible if I don’t say anything while you still have a chance to turn back.”

‘What are you talking about?’

Hrafnkell was as serious as I’d ever seen him, though his lower lip was shaking and his hands were sweating. ‘I have a confession to make. You have the right to know who I really am before we take such a huge step in our relationship. We’re the only ones who know about our marriage plans for now, but this will change as soon as we step out of this car. So if you’re going to turn back, the time is now.’

‘Did you kill someone? Are you a secret agent spying on me? What is going on?’

‘It’s none of those things.’ At least my guesses brought a short-lived smile to his lips. ‘You know I’m so completely in love with you I can’t imagine living my life without you by my side, right? You know I’ve never lied to you and that I want our relationship to be based on trust. So it’s only fair that I tell you about the only other person I’ve felt that way for.’

‘Are you talking about an ex-girlfriend you’re still in love with? You think this could get on the way of our relationship?’

‘It’s not an ex-girlfriend. We were never together this way. It was my roommate, back when I was at university. That was the first time I thought I loved someone.’

‘That was before we met. How do your feelings for her affect our relationship now?’

‘Him. My feelings for him.’

‘Oh.’ I wish I could’ve been more expressive, but back then I didn’t know bisexuality was real. My mind was bombarded with thoughts that my soon-to-be husband was a gay man, and I couldn’t find words to express that building sense of dread in a way that wouldn’t hurt or scare him.

‘I know. That’s why I wanted to come clear with you now.’ He looked away from me. I was so confused, so scared he would break up with me, but I could see he felt the same way. ‘Arnar was two years younger than me. A violinist even more skilled than your father, if you don’t mind me saying. He was having trouble adjusting to university life in the beginning, having some family troubles, and I ended up taking him under my wing as a kind of supportive big brother. I helped him take care of himself, taught him to make his own food, took him clothes shopping so he would look good in auditions, that kind of stuff. We also played a lot together, and after a while I… I found myself more and more attached to him. I craved his company like a drug. I wanted to make him smile. I wanted to protect him and take care of him and reassure him he would be great at the next audition, even when I was a pile of nerves for my own auditions.’

‘You loved that man.’ It hurt to say it back then, when my heart was racing and screaming I was about to lose the love of my life. I couldn’t understand how he could have held such pure, beautiful feelings for a man, and still want to marry me.

‘I panicked when I realised what my feelings were. I was sure Arnar saw me as nothing more than a big brother, or best friend at most. He was obviously attracted to women, and I… I thought I was too.’

So Hrafnkell wasn’t attracted to women after all? What was he doing with me, then? I wanted to shout at him to go away and never see me again, but he was so mortified by his own words I felt sorry for him instead. It wasn’t hard to guess he had never spoken about this to anyone, and his words were as much of a shock to him as they were for me.

‘I was scared. I still am scared. I figured I would only get hurt if I kept being around Arnar as much as my heart wanted, so I started putting some distance between us. We were still living together, but I would always “have something on” when he was home, pretend to be busy practicing when he wanted to hang out. I don’t know if he ever noticed what I was doing, and I know I’m the worst human being for lying to him like that, but I couldn’t face his rejection if I ever told him what was really going on.’

‘So you just drifted apart?’

‘After graduation I told him I would have better career prospects outside of Reykjavík. He must have seen through the lie, but he didn’t say anything. It was much easier to speak to him through the phone or write letters. Our friendship kept going that way. I called him when I got the job with your father’s quartet. He called when he got his first freelance job with the ISO.’

‘What are you trying to tell me?’ If things were going so well with this other guy, surely now would be the moment he admitted he was gay.

‘That calling Arnar to tell him about how my boss’s daughter was the most amazing person in the entire world and I was completely in love with her was the most confusing phone call I’ve ever made?’ Hrafnkell almost smiled. ‘When I met you, all those feelings I had for Arnar came back with the same force. I love you, Lilla. I want to make you smile. I want to wake up in the morning next to you, and go to bed with you at night. I want to have a family with you. I want to sit next to you as an old man, with our grandkids running and screaming and being kids around us, and feel that I’ve had the perfect life because you’re there with me.’

‘But you love another man at the same time?’

‘I’m as confused as you are.’

‘And that’s why you wanted me know?’

‘I wanted you to know that I love you and I won’t hesitate to choose you as my life partner, but also know that my feelings have done strange things I still don’t know how to deal with.’

‘So you think you’re not gay after all?’

‘All I know is that I don’t want to be the gay guy married to a woman to keep up appearances. That’s not me. Though when your sister calls me “effeminate faggot” to my face I can’t help but wonder if she knows more about me than we think.’

‘Margrét knows nothing. You can’t take her seriously.’

‘I know. But other than being clear that you’re my life partner and I love you and I’m definitely attracted to your body too… everything else is a confusing mess I don’t know how to deal with and I figured I should warn you this is who you’re dealing with if you want to be my wife.’

‘I see.’ I tried to smile at him. I knew he was telling the truth, and if he wanted to marry me and be with me for the rest of his life, then so did I. ‘Are you inviting this man to our wedding?’

‘I won’t if you don’t want me to.’

We did invite him in the end, but he was busy with work and didn’t come. I never met that man, and I’m not sure I would’ve wanted to back then.

We got out of the car, my father was over the moon when we told him the news, and the few years we spent together were some of the happiest days of my life. It would be many years after his death until I realised Hrafnkell would’ve likely identified as bisexual if he knew it was a thing, and whatever little fear I still had inside me that he would’ve left me once he decided he was gay and wanted to be with men was buried for good.

“Thank you for telling me all of this.” My tears had finally come out around the time Mum mentioned how my father dreamed of making a family with her. She had started crying at that point too, and I wanted nothing but to be able to hug her and comfort her in the way she often did with me. “Though why didn’t you tell me when you realised I was gay? Didn’t you think I would’ve wanted to know it then?”

“I thought about it.” She wiped her eyes with a tissue. “But I decided not to in the end because this isn’t exactly a happy story. Your father was struggling with his sexuality, he died without the reassurance of knowing there are other people like him and that his confusing feelings were perfectly normal. What you needed when you realised your sexuality was our acceptance and the confidence that you could be who you were. I didn’t want my reluctance to accept your father’s feelings for another man to come off as me rejecting all same-sex relationships and make you question my love for you.”

“I think I understand. But would you have told me at some other point, if it wasn’t for this whole Siggi mess?”

“Of course. I think it would’ve been unfair to both of you if the truth never came out. But you’re now so close to Margrét, hearing all the things she says about Jó and about your father… Her insults had always hurt, but after that day, after I realised how much Hrafnkell feared those words… I guess I didn’t want you feeling even worse than you already do when she berates your father like that. I’m sorry if I was being over-protective for no reason, but I know the sister I have.”

“That’s true. I’m sure I’ll feel much worse now if I hear her talking about dad, but I’m still happy that I know more about him. It’s… It’s nice to know that I’m not alone, in a way. That my father was more like me than I thought. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad. I think when he told me those things he was looking for some kind of closure. I don’t know how much he was aware of it at the time, but the feeling I got was that coming clear to me was also him closing off every possibility of developing his relationship with the other man. He was telling himself that, no matter how much it hurt him to do so, he had to step away and let life take him somewhere else. It probably wasn’t the closure his heart wanted, but it was what had to be done.”

“So this is why you’re telling me that story now, because I’m also not getting the closure I want, but I’m doing what needs to be done for my relationship with Siggi?”

Mum nodded. I had such an urge to cry I could no longer speak, and she too cried upon seeing me in that state. The cold, empty space around me on the bed never hurt so much. The silence filling the room felt heavy and suffocating when all I wanted was to be back home in Akureyri, lying on Mum’s lap and feeling her comforting hands on my hair, hugging her and being reassured by her warmth.

I cried because I missed her; because I needed her next to me when she was on the other side of the country. I cried because I imagined conversations with my father that could never be real; because I missed him even though I shouldn’t be able to miss someone I never knew. And I cried because the Siggi-shaped wound in my heart still refused to close; because it didn’t feel right to force closure on something still so wide open.

Thanks for reading!
I'll be taking a little break from writing/posting until around mid-August. As much as it sucks for those who can't wait to see what comes next, it does mean you'll have plenty of time to figure out just how evil I am with the direction this latest plot is going... 
Next chapter is back to Siggi and his resolve to apologise to the orchestra for being an arse. Arnar will be around too.