Kirsty was smiling as she padded into the living room when the doorbell sounded. Monika had just got to bed...close to midnight of course. But by then she was starving. Mikael had a way of doing that to her. Bjorn, sweetheart that he was, had volunteered to do a late night food run to her favorite Turkish restaurant on Green Lanes. Lamb doner and koftki were all that would do her.
She chuckled as she threw open the door, "That was fast, Bjorn..." She froze for a moment when she saw her father and not her husband standing in the doorway. She was not certain what to do. Her father had not seen her naked since she was four. All she could do was assume the awkward one arm across her tits and the other...
If she thought things could not get any worse... Mikael walked out of their bedroom, equally naked, "What took you so long, baby bro..."
He though was lucky and quickly realized his mistake, ducking back into the safety of the bedroom.
Kirsty on the other hand, and she had none left at the moment, could only bite her lower lip and mumble, "We weren't expecting you, Daddy."
"Obviously," her father mumbled as he looked down at the floor. "Perhaps I should come back another time."
Kirsty was about to nod her assent, when she felt her satin robe wrap around her shoulders, "No need, Sir."
She turned to Mikael with tears of gratitude in her eyes as she managed somehow to slip her arms into the holes. He smiled down at her as he tied the belt loosely just above her baby mound. "Come in, Daddy," she replied as she stepped back.
Mikael had even managed to find his jeans and pull them on somehow. The man had far quicker reflexes than she did. That was for certain.
Her father was red, sweating and appeared the epitome of polite British discomforture as he nodded and stepped reluctantly into the apartment.
Kirsty was trying to collect her thoughts, trying to figure out what she was going to say, how she was going to explain this as she closed the door, but before she could, "Foods here. Hope you are hungry or we'll have to think of some way to work up an..." Bjorn froze with his mouth open. "Dr. Dickens..."
"Take a seat, Daddy. I will get some plates and things from the kitchen. You can join us for dinner. Mikael, can you help me please? Bjorn, will you set up everything around the coffee table please? No need to be formal and sit at the dining room table," she barely kept herself from bursting into giggles as she disappeared into the kitchen with Mikael hot on her heels.
She had just about cleared out the cupboards of plates and glasses and was reaching for the drawer for silverware when Mikael came in. She could see the dark look on his face as she passed the things to him.
"Just let me get some wine, juice and napkins and I'll join you," she reached up and brushed a kiss over his lips that stilled tasted of her, having spent over half an hour torturing and edging her before finally giving her the mind-blowing orgasm she needed.
"Sure, no problem," he kept his eyes down but she saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat over each word. But before she could say anything more, he disappeared back around the corner into the living room.
She sighed, this was NOT how she wanted to tell her parents. Though she was not certain that there would have ever been the right time or a good way. She rubbed her hand over her girls as she shoved a bottle of wine under one arm, orange juice under the other and picked up the napkins and cork screw.
But the truth was...she had to do it sometime and somehow. It just seemed that Fate had given her a huge shove in that direction. No time like the present it seemed as she plastered a smile on her face and joined her husbands around the coffee table.
She smiled to first Bjorn as she handed him the bottle of wine and cork screw. Both he and Mikael had chosen to sit on the floor facing the couch. Her father was at one end, which left space for her at the other.
But before she took her seat, there was something else she needed to do. She stepped behind Mikael and placed her hands on his shoulders. He turned and looked at her with a deep frown, but she merely smiled as she said, "We did not have time for proper introductions earlier. Daddy, this is my husband Mikael. Mikael, my father, Dr. James Dickens."
Unfortunately, her timing left a bit to be desired as her father spewed the red wine that Bjorn had handed him just a moment before out both his nose and mouth.
"But I thought Bjorn was your husband," he stammered.
"He is, Daddy. Both Bjorn and Mikael are my husbands," she said holding out hands to both of them. "So is their eldest brother, Sven. But we have to go back to Norway tomorrow, he is not well." If she was in for an ounce, she was in for a pound.
Her father looked from the face of one husband to the other before looking up at her as he broke out in uproarious laughter. She frowned as all three of them chuckled, but she failed to see what was so funny about this predicament. Though laughter was certainly better than what she could expect from her mother.
After a couple of moments, her father's chuckles quieted as he reached for a napkin on the table and wiped his eyes, "I'm gay," he said looking her in the eye.
***
Kirsty's head was still reeling from it all as she fried eggs for their morning breakfast.
Her father was gay. Not happy. But homosexual.
Not that it mattered to her. She had friends and clients, who were openly gay, lesbian and transgender. Of course, she did not love him any less for the revelation.
Looking back, she supposed it even made perfect sense. Things form her childhood falling into place like pieces of the puzzle. They had stayed up for a couple of hours talking. That had been the big news that her parents wanted to share, but had not gotten around to over brunch.
Her father was gay and had finally met someone. Her parents were getting a divorce.
And she could not be happier for her father. She only wished he had found the courage years before to live his life the way he wanted.
It had solved practical problems as well. While they were prepared to simply abandon the flat, lose their deposit and perhaps be stuck paying the rent for another six months, the divorce meant that her father was in the market for a place to live at least for the short term. Where better than blocks from the hospital.
He had actually gratefully accepted their offer of the couch for the night as well. And his only comment in the end about her equally shocking revelation of being married to three men at once had been priceless, "Please, may I be there when you tell your mother. Or at least video it." He and Bjorn had laughingly agreed to the plan.
Of course, she had slept the whole night sandwiched between her husbands. While it had been a tight fit, in the bed anyway, it had been a bit disappointing otherwise. Both Mikael and Bjorn insisted that she sleep. Actually, sleep. After months without them both and all they had done was sleep.
Over sleep actually. Bjorn had left early to clear out his office, turn in his keys and do a quick turn over. They were not happy to lose him. In a short period of time, he had become almost indispensable. They had even tried to convince him to make it just a short leave of absence for a family emergency...or to continue working remotely. But her husband wanted back to sea.
She sighed, her own phone call to Roz had been easier...and harder. Of course, Roz was already preparing for her departure. Her friend knew that she would not be returning from maternity leave and they had actually decided to offer her position to the intern that Kirsty had been working with for months. It would make the transition less traumatic for the children and families.
But still she would miss her friend. She had before...during her time at the Holding. Even more so this time as they had become closer, sharing secrets and interests.
As hard as that was though, Kirsty could not wait to leave. The city. The noise. Her mother. The past. Her future awaited her. At the one place that had ever felt like home. She was going home...to the Holding. Though not at first. First they would need to spend some time in Oslo as Sven recovered.
There was good news on that front too. Mikael had spoken to his father when they woke up that morning. Sven had woken fully the previous night, talking to them both...and kicking his mother out. She smiled, content that things would be all right now.
Well, other than being at least two hours behind between Bjorn's trip to the office and them letting her sleep in. Mikael had run out to hire a van for the day to transport Monika's things and the few of theirs that they wanted. Then when he and Bjorn came back they would pack the van and make the hour and a half drive to Tilbury where Ægir's Captive awaited them.
Three days, maybe four to make the trip. She rubbed her tummy between flipping the eggs. The girls had spent most of the morning and last night practicing gymnastics. The doorbell rang and she laid down the spatula to get it, when her father called out, "I'll get that, sweetie."
She was more than glad to keep cooking, perhaps it was Bjorn or Mikael, maybe one of them had forgotten their keys. She laughed, remembering how well that had turned out the night before. She heard mumbling from the living room and poked her head around the corner to see her father and a battered Georgia.
Alarm coursed through her at the state of Monika's carer. The young woman had told her about the broken arm that had forced her to cancel the day before, but not only was it in a sling her eye was swollen almost shut and a particularly nasty shade of purple. There was a fainter bruise across her cheek and her lip had a cut in the corner. She rushed forward and enveloped her friend in a hug, but that only tore a strangled moan from her, "What happened, sweetie?"
"Stupid me, like I said, I took a bad fall down the stairs at the house," Kirsty knew that with bruises like that it must hurt to smile, but Georgia forced one nonetheless.
Kirsty knew, just knew immediately, that it was all a lie. It had nothing to do with her training though that did confirm it. It was almost impossible to get a black eye from a mere fall. Unless you fell onto someone's fist in the process.
She drew the young woman inside and to the couch. She wanted to be gentle, it would not be the first time she had convinced a victim of abuse to confide in her. But she did not have time. Bjorn and Mikael would be back soon. In another hour, two tops, they would be gone. And what little she knew of this young woman said that she had no one else to turn to. "Who did this to you, Georgia?"
