Status: Live

Holding Hands Won't Be Enough

Chapter 68: Cardigan Jezebel

“So, wait, she told you she has been going on dates with Jukka?” Linde asked, confused, scratching between two dreads with his long finger.

“No, Sonja told me.”

“According to Verdranna’s gossiping mothers group, they’ve been spotted at a bunch of fancy restaurants in the financial district.”

“I don’t get it. He’s such a slime bag, it’s like she doesn’t even remember how much he pissed me off.”

“I don’t think you need telling, but from your side of the fence, things have probably pissed her off more than Jukka’s advances did to you.” Linde reasoned, Ville rubbed the back of his head and turned his gaze to his son who had said something inaudibly over the sounds of the cafe.

“What was that, Kulta?”

“Jukka is funny.” Ville’s face hardened and he sat rigid, biting down on his top lip and forcing a smile.

“Brilliant.”

“Don’t let it get to you, come on, we have a day with the kids. Speaking of, I’m going to find out when I can pick Olivia up, we need to shop for her mum too.” He said, pulling out his cell and promptly walking outside.

“I wish I could say ‘what did I do to deserve this?’, Mige.” Ville sighed.

“I wish you could too brother, but we all warned you Jonna was trouble.”

“Is, Mige… Is.”

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“So, where are we going?” Millie asked as they stepped out onto the street.

“I am walking you to the dress shop.” He nodded, chivalrously. “Luckily for you it’s just around the corner, so you can leave the car here.”

“How did yo-“

“Your phone rang whilst you were smoking with Ville. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“How are you my little fox?” Jyrki asked, pulling his friend into his body with a calming side hug as they walked. She inhaled the cold Helsinki air deeply and nodded.

“Trying to keep myself, and my brain, as busy as humanly possible and in turn sleeping very little, because I’m fuelling myself with far too much coffee and quite a lot of self-hatred.” She said in one concise sentence.

“So, good then?” Jyrki half-laughed.

“I’m coping.” She sighed, “Barely, but just.”

“By dating Jukka?” she turned her head to look Jyrki in the eye and frowned. “Don’t give me that face, I’m not casting judgement, I’m just interested in how my dear friend is doing, given these-“ he exhaled heavily, “ever persisting, circumstances.”

“We go out to dinner, we don’t talk about Ville, or Jonna, or Seth, or that foetus. I get to escape from my currently very fucked up life for a few hours a couple of times a week and talk, and have a laugh and not think about any of it, that’s all…”

“You don’t need to justify your actions to me, darling. So long as you are happy, or as happy as you feel you can be, rather.”

“Well, that remains to be seen.”

“And that is the next thing I am interested in,” he said straightforwardly, as they came to a halt at a crossing, “are you still leaving Hels after Christmas?”

“I have to, Jyrki… I have to get my little boy back to the real world, back into a routine, as truly lovely and magical as this ‘holiday’ has been.” She said dryly, “It’s not fair on him.”

“You mean it’s not fair on you?”

“What?”

“He’s here with his father, his ‘uncles’, his family, all these things he’s never known.”

“If you’re trying to trick me into admitting I’m not Ville’s number one fan right now, there’s no need, you know that better than anyone.”

“No trickery, no witchcraft.” He said, holding his hands up honestly as they began to walk again.

“It’s not fair on me, no.” she admitted honestly, “I can’t stay here solely for the purpose of being Ville’s emotional navigational crutch through his own fuck up. I have a business; friends; a home; not to mention this whole sordid mess of Seth’s I haven’t even began to deal with back in California. I’m staying in the guest bedroom of my parent’s house sharing a bed with a three year old, a bed which I may add, was barely long enough for me as a teenager, let alone now I’m a foot taller and three quarters of the space is filled with my limb-flailing offspring. Jukka is nice – his humour is very childish and he’s oddly keen – but he’s nice and he listens, but nice isn’t enough to keep me here. Ville being Oscar’s father isn’t enough to keep me here. My own family isn’t enough to keep me here. In short, there is nothing keeping me here, Jyrki, so no, it isn’t fair on me.”

“You need a sign.” He smiled.

“Yes,” she agreed, “A big, illuminated one that reads ‘Welcome to LAX’.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” She stopped and stood in front of him and gripped the lapels of his leather jacket in her hands.

“Jyrki, I love you, I really do,” she sighed, “but quit it with your ‘romance for the ages’ horse-shit, because for the first time in my life, I really can’t take it anymore. It’s over; it’s done… I’m tired and I’m going home.” She laughed, exasperation radiating from her expression, sadly. He nodded and kissed her forehead.

“Honey, I love you too,” he smiled kindly, “but I believe in my horse-shit and will defend it to the grave.”

“You’re glamoured by romance, Jyrki. Sadly, love does not conquer all.” She laughed, “Life gets in the way 99% of the time.”

“And that 1% is my master.”

“I wish I could think like that, I do…”

“You just have to wait for the sign, then you’ll know.”

“This is getting all very rom-com, can we change the topic please?” she laughed dismissively, “Didn’t you want gift advice?”

“No, not at all, I’m an excellent gift giver.” He smirked, smugly, holding the door to the building open for her. “After you…” he bowed. The two of them giggled musing on previous Christmas gifts they’d given each other in the past for the duration of the elevator ride up the twelve stories to the fitting suite; when they entered the ornate room they’d expected to be greeted by at least one person, but no one came when Jyrki tentatively rang the bell, even after the second time. “Curious.” He pondered aloud.

“What?” Millie asked suspiciously, trying to follow his line of sight onto the desk behind the counter.

“That takeaway coffee cup is from a small place the other side of town.” His jaw slacked and he chuckled unsurprisingly, “Vuori.” She thought she’d misheard him; in fact, she prayed she’d misheard him.

“Vuori? What do you mean, Vuori?”

“He said he might ‘be in the area’ rather than waiting to meet us later.” There was a thud from the change rooms, which was enough to ignite an annoyance in Millie that was beyond compare. She strode purposefully towards the source of the thud and one by one pulled back the heavy velvet curtains, until finally revealing Jussi and a woman free of the constraints of her cardigan with their tongues down each other’s throats whom jumped hurriedly to attention as they were met with a stern Millie.

“Get out.” She spoke loudly and dryly, making fixed eye contact with Jussi. He grinned and tried to use the wide-eyed ‘I did nothing wrong’ look that worked so well on so many women. “Do not make me repeat myself, buttercup.” She insisted as the woman quickly redressed herself and scuttled past her. Jussi rolled his eyes and re-buttoned his pants before sauntering past – she was just quick enough to slap the upside of his head forcefully as he moved past her. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?!” she hissed at him, having seen her sister and her bridal party entering at the other side of the suite, “It’s bad enough my family think the men I’m romantically linked with are colossal fucking assholes without adding my oldest friends to that list too. Can’t you keep your dick in your pants for five fucking seconds?!” she spat quickly, and quietly, in English.

“You tell me, my little rocket fuel queen.” He whispered with a knowing grin. She couldn’t help it, her natural reflex to slap him overwhelmed her and caused Sonja to stare wide eyed at their child like behaviour.

“You brought friends, sissy?” she smiled, in the fashion that older siblings tend to when they want it to be known they’re annoyed.

“One.” She said, holding up a finger, “I brought one friend. This one turned up unannounced.”

“Ladies…” she started, “This is Jyrki and Jussi, musician friends of Millie’s, who I’m sure will be leaving shortly.”

“Lovely to meet you all.” Jyrki said courteously, just as the door opened behind him, he stepped aside swiftly to let a very smartly dressed older woman enter, followed by Jussi’s cardigan jezebel who stood with Sonja’s ladies. Millie turned her stoney face to Jussi and mouthed ‘a fucking bridesmaid?!’ which was received with a smirking shrug.

“Ah, Sonja, so sorry I’m running a little behind schedule, fabric crisis upstairs, I mean really, pink tulle on a wedding gown, ghastly…” she explained, kissing Sonja on each cheek, “Ah good, the whole girl gang is here!” she turned to view the other parties standing by and her mouth dropped, “Matilda…” she gushed, “you know I did wonder with the surname, but didn’t want to pry. Darling, how on earth have you been?!” she said, diving in for the same two kisses she had given Sonja.

“Taara, I’ve been… living in Los Angeles. Goodness,” she said in shock, wanting to avert the topic from her, “What about you? This suite is beautiful!”

“How do you two know each other?” Sonja asked innocently, so wrapped up in her wedding that she had forgotten that years beforehand Millie had been organising hers.

“Oh darling I started making Matilda the most gorgeous wedding gown and then you all but disappeared darling! Poof! So upsetting, I still have it you know…”

“Oh..” she smiled, raising her brow, not knowing at all how to react to that news. Out the corner of her eye she could see Sonja cursing herself for asking.

“We’ll talk another time sweetie, oh, so good you’re not dead! Right, pressed for time my darlings, let’s get to it! So sorry to rush you all, but we need this done yesterday.” Again, just when she needed reassurance most, Jyrki was there with a comforting hand on her back, she looked up at and smiled at him. She could sense he wanted to say something, so stopped him right there.

“If you say 'sign' at any further point today, my dear darling man, I will kill you where you stand.”