Henrik stepped into the hallway and gave Anita a hug. As he brushed the snow from his shoulders, Camilla and her husband, Antonio, appeared, followed by Tom. They all hugged him and fired off warm smiles in front of the cameras. Then the director shouted “Cut!” Henrik’s scene was done.
He took off his jacket and shoes and looked inquiringly at Tom. “Where’s Ellen?”
“She had a work thing that she couldn’t change,” his brother replied quietly.
“She’s known about this for six months!” their father bellowed from the kitchen.
Tom shrugged. “Yes, but the filming was brought forward. So it is what it is.”
Henrik headed into one of the guest rooms to change. He sank down on the neatly made single bed. The whole place felt so alien. It was hard to believe he’d grown up here. Everything was familiar, yet strange. The apartment his mother shared with Vanja on Mariatorget felt more like home, even though Henrik had never lived there. He was always welcome and felt relaxed there. He stayed where he was for a few minutes, told himself this was going to be fine. He would play his part, as he always did. He took a deep breath, stood up, and joined the others.
While Hasse and Anita continued their preparations in the kitchen, Henrik sat down in a corner of his father’s study where his makeup was carefully applied. From then on, the action took place in the large living room with a view over the bay. The open fire was crackling in the hearth, and an enormous silver tray on the dining table was laid out with champagne glasses and an array of canapés—Hasselback potatoes with caviar and sour cream, Asian prawn toasts on salad leaves, goat cheese with green cabbage, all framed by the flickering flames of tall candles.
This was supposed to be two days before Christmas Eve. The following day would be filled with intense Christmas preparations, and then on Christmas Eve, they would film the big celebration.
Hasse and Anita took their places next to the table. Tom sat down in one of the armchairs with both children on his lap, and Camilla and her family occupied the sofa. The production assistant suggested that Henrik might like to perch on the arm of the sofa, in an effort to look relaxed.
“I’m pleased to hear that Ellen will be joining us tomorrow. At least two of you are sticking with your partners and raising your families.” Hasse stared at Henrik, then continued. “I’m afraid it’s going to look pretty sad that you’re here alone.”
“Sad?”
“Yes, you’re nearly forty. No children, not even a partner these days.”
This was seen as a huge failure in his father’s eyes—the breakup, but also the infidelity that had preceded it. When Henrik had seen the photos of Bente and Frederic in the South of France, his father’s words, which became Henrik’s own, had echoed in his mind:it was only to be expected.Seeing those pictures had confirmed Henrik’s impression that he wasn’t good enough. Even though Bente denied that she had cheated on him, he didn’t doubt for a second what had happened, because why would someone like Bente be faithful to him? And the photographs would have convinced anyone. She was looking at Frederic in a way that she never looked at Henrik. That had hurt.
“Well, I’ll just have to smile a lot so that it looks less sad,” Henrik said acidly.
His father didn’t respond, and Elnaz appeared just then. The camera operators and sound technicians took their places, and Elnaz told Hasse that it was time to welcome everyone.
Filming began and Anita served champagne. The air was filled with the smell of burning birch logs, and the clementines that one of the production assistants had peeled and handed out to the children.
“I’m delighted to welcome all my wonderful children and grandchildren home,” Hasse said, spreading his arms wide and beaming. Then everyone chatted and drank champagne, laughing and smiling warmlyat one another. Henrik had done this so many times that it was easy enough to pretend that they were having a lovely time. Unlike withLet’s Get Baking,Christmas with the Eklundsdidn’t require genuine emotions.
“Actually, I have a surprise for you, children,” Hasse said after a while. They all fell silent. “Anita’s son Niklas and his family will be here on Christmas Eve as usual, of course, but we’re also expecting someone else.” He paused dramatically. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. “Your mom is coming. And Vanja.”
No one spoke—this was unbelievable. Was it some kind of weird joke? Why had his mother agreed to such a thing? Then there was a burst of happy chatter, which was exactly what was supposed to happen, and they all looked at one another, nodding and smiling.
“And I have another little surprise,” Anita informed them. “I’m using a new rub on the ham this year.”
Loud protests broke out, exactly as they had been instructed in the script they had received a few weeks ago.
“I promise it will be delicious,” Anita assured them with a twinkle in her eye.
When the filming ended, Hasse and Anita disappeared into the kitchen, and Antonio disappeared upstairs with the children. The siblings stayed where they were and exchanged glances. “So, Mom?” Camilla said.
Henrik shook his head. Their mom made every effort to avoid their dad.
“So it will be Mom, Vanja, Niklas, and his family,” Tom said.
“Like we’re one of those great big happy celebrity influencer families.” Henrik was finding it hard to summon a smile.
“More like a Lars Norén play,” Camilla remarked, which made her brothers laugh. Henrik sometimes forgot how things could be when it was just the three of them. Without Hasse constantly making them compete for his favor and playing them against each other, the dynamic shifted, and they could actually have fun together.
They had a quick bite to eat, and then it was time to bake gingerbread cookies with the children. This was a simple scene, and it was a relief to focus on the children rather than Hasse. As the snow fell outside the window, they rolled out the dough, cut out hearts and stars, and drank mulled wine. They also made a big gingerbread house meant to represent the mansion itself, complete with an Advent star shining in the window.
When the scene was over, Henrik declined the invitation to stay for a drink. He and his father hadn’t had a proper conversation since they had looked at the space for Henrik’s bakery, and he couldn’t bear the strained atmosphere for a second longer. Tom, Camilla, and Antonio needed to get their children to bed, so they all left together.
In the cab Henrik caught himself smiling broadly at the driver, the same fake smile he’d put on for the filming, as if he couldn’t let go of his role. He sank back against the leather seat and opened the window. The driver gave him an irritated glance, but he needed a burst of oxygen, if only for a few seconds. The chilly winter air rushed into the cab, and Henrik tried to stop thinking about the day. He closed the window and sank farther into his seat, utterly exhausted.
