Free Maybe Tonight by Kim Golden Page B

an oak armoire he’d designed that was influenced by his love of Børge Mogensen’s take on modernism with its clean lines and vegetable tanned leather insets.
    Mads skimmed the article…it was an interview…no one had interviewed him…then he saw the byline. Laney’s name was listed as the writer and the article had been translated by Ingrid. There were more pictures–the nursery he’d designed for Lida, as well as the pieces that would become Liv’s nursery. Whitewashed ash cabinets he’d designed for his cousin Henrik. An armchair made of teak and reclaimed rope reminiscent of Kaare Klint’s church chair, which he’d crafted as part of an entry for a furniture design contest but never bothered to enter. “But…how did you do all of this…?”
    “I used my contacts at work,” she said. “And that time when you gave Johan and Marius a tour of the workshop…I was asking you so many questions, I thought you’d figured it out.”
    “But…how?” He re-read some of the passages and tried to piece everything together. Laney steadied him with her touch, she stroked his nape and then raked her fingers through his hair. Which each touch the shock of the surprise softened. “You’re really something…” He smiled finally and something white hot burned in his chest and spread through him. Why did she love him so much, he wondered. Why did she believe in him when others didn’t?
    “You design beautiful furniture, Mads…and I want people to know who you are.”
     
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    Later they drove to Humlebaek and had dinner with his grandmother and his cousin Henrik. Laney had insisted on stopping at a florist’s shop and they arrived laden with a huge American-style wreath, poinsettias and balsamy boughs of spruce.
    While Mads and Henrik took over cooking, Laney and Alma decorated the living room with the spruce boughs and poinsettias. Four small silver-colored lanterns with thick church candles had been set up as a centerpiece on the coffee table, one candle to be lit for each week of advent.
    “I saw the article in this morning’s paper,” Henrik said as he adjusted the flame under the risotto.
    “Yeah, that was Laney’s doing.” Mads smiled to himself. He was still amazed she’d managed to keep it a secret from him.
    “Quite a coup!”
    “You think so?”
    “Tomorrow morning, when you get to the workshop, you’ll probably have tons of messages waiting for you, from people who want you design kitchens or shelving units…or those inlay tables of yours. This could be the start of something big for you, Mads.”
    “Yeah…maybe.”
    Henrik grinned at him. “You getting a little nervous?”
    “Yeah…a little. Christ, this is all so new. You know? I’m not used to this. Not used to having someone who loves me as much as she does, to knowing that she wants to be with me. And that we’re going to have a baby together. That’s pretty scary right there…I mean, I can’t wait, but I’m scared out of my mind too.”
    “Understandable. It’s a big responsibility.”
    “And then she does something like this…because she loves me and she believes in me.”
    “You want my advice?”
    “You’ll give it to me even if I don’t want it,” Mads joked. He took the wooden spoon from Henrik and commandeered stirring the risotto. He was glad his cousin was back in Copenhagen again after being in Singapore so long. Henrik was the closest thing Mads had to a brother. And even if he’d often envied Henrik for never having had the instability that had marked most of Mads’s life, he didn’t want to imagine a life without him there.
    “You’re right, you know, I’ll tell you what I think no matter what.” Henrik laughed. He took a long sip from the bottle of chocolate stout he’d opened. “And here’s my advice–just roll with it. Don’t question why she loves you. She just does. Don’t be afraid you’re going to be a crap father–you had one, you know you don’t want your daughter to have