13. Oskar
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
OSKAR
Kai’s text comes in late, as I’m getting into bed.
KAI: Hey there. I hope you’ve had a good day. Thanks again for yesterday and last night. I’ll never forget them. One of my friends is in a bad situation with his family, and another friend and I need to go help him out. I’ll be in touch when I get back.
The message sounds like him: easy, with that tangled way he talks. Of course he’s on his way to help someone he knows.
OSKAR: I hope your friend is okay. It is very nice of you to help, but I will miss you. Do you know how long you will be away?
I hesitate before hitting the send button, wondering if asking about his return is too pushy. It isn’t. As much as we’ve been seeing each other, it would be odd if I did not want to know.
KAI: Not really. It’ll be at least a week. Probably two.
Fan. In two weeks, I will be at training camp, which means I won’t see him for over a month.
But he didn’t choose for his friend to need help now.
OSKAR: Okay. I start my new job on 10 September. For three weeks, I will be out of town, but we can still text. Can we see each other when I get back?
KAI: Good luck with the job! My busy time of year starts on September 15, and I hope we can stay in touch.
I hope.
Not warm Kai.
OSKAR: I like what we have started. Will you text me while you are away?
It takes too long for his response to come.
KAI: I’ll try. You’re an amazing guy, and I’ll miss you. Sorry, but I have to pack.
OSKAR: Be safe. I will be thinking of you.
I keep the phone beside me, hoping for a reply that never comes. At midnight, I turn off the light and try to fall asleep.
Stop overthinking this. He is busy packing so he can help someone who needs him.
Sleep does not come easily. At seven, half awake, I reach for my phone and am happy to find a message waiting from Kai.
KAI: Off to the airport. I’ll be thinking about you too. Take care of yourself.
My stomach relaxes, and I exhale a breath I must have been holding all night.
It is three days before I hear from him again.
KAI: Got here okay. Hope you’re having fun.
I read it several times, searching for the man whose touch makes me feel warm all over. The one who shudders when I whisper Swedish words into his ear. I don’t find him, but he is probably tired.
OSKAR: I am so happy you texted! It is not the same here without you. How are you feeling?
For a few minutes, we talk about the terrible food he had for dinner and how I thought I was having heat stroke when I went running.
Two days later, I ask about his friend.
KAI: He’s better. How’s NYC? You meeting people?
Meeting people. My stomach clenches into a tight ball.
OSKAR: Why would I want to meet anyone else?
I delete it. Saying something like this might scare him, so I send a different message.
OSKAR: NYC is not the same when you are away. Where are you?
KAI: Maine. Have you been to MoMA yet?
He spends the rest of the conversation as Kai the tourist guide, telling me everything I should see while I have time. It isn’t long until he has to go.
For the rest of the day, his words are my personal albatross.
Meeting people.
Kai knows I am not working yet, so he was referring to other men. I tell myself he is a little jealous. That is easier than wondering if he is sending me to pack. Or is it giving me the door?
Helvete. I will never learn American slang.
By Saturday, the hotel room becomes intolerable, and I am sick of going for walks and playing tourist. He wants me to meet people, so I find a club online and go. I don’t want to meet anyone, but I am tired of being alone.
When I arrive, I can hear the music from the sidewalk.
The space inside is packed with people shouting to be heard.
Going out alone has always made me nervous, so I get a drink and make the rounds.
I am surprised to enjoy it, in a way. Under the flashing lights, I dance with a beautiful woman, but that is all it is.
Then a man asks me, and we push our way into the crowd. His name is David. He looks something like Kai, but his eyes are not deep blue. They do not make me feel special the way Kai’s do when he forgets to guard them.
After the music ends, we get drinks. It is not long until he leans in and invites me to his apartment. I am not interested, which I have to admit makes me sad. I hadn’t intended to go with anyone else, but I think part of me hoped I could at least want someone else.
Now I know that I cannot. There is only one man I need right now.
I tell David goodbye and walk home alone. For the first time since Kai left, I let myself wonder what will happen if he does not want to see me again. I get no answer, only a lonely walk and thoughts of a man in Maine who does not know how to say what he means.
The next morning, I follow my new ritual and look for messages before making coffee. Nothing. That is becoming its own ritual.
One day, my agent calls and tells me the Fury have sent him my contract. He reminds me it is a much better deal than most rookies get.
I go to Newark the next day and sign it. Meeting the people behind the summer’s video calls is fun, and after everyone says hello, the head coach shows me around the practice facility. Only a year old, it is the finest one I have ever been in.
I cannot stop myself from wondering what Kai would say if he were here. I am having the best day since our swimming date, and I wish I could share it with him.
What a fool I was not to tell him what I do. It seems too important to say over uneasy texts because if we are together, I can make sure it doesn’t scare him. I will tell him the day he gets home.
Before I leave, the human resources director gives me a folder of paperwork to complete before camp. I read through it back at the hotel, including the team schedule. Our first game is only a week after training camp, at home, against the New York Condors.
That brings me to a stop. Kai has a Condors T-shirt that shows off his muscles. I peeled it off him one night. Now, I imagine him wearing it in Maine, thinking of me the way he said he would.
I believe it because, with Kai, believing is most of what I have.
Over the next few days, I rent an apartment in Chelsea and have furniture delivered. It will be an excellent home, and though it is not as nice as Kai’s condo, I am sure he will approve. After I unpack, I take a beer to the recliner and imagine how Kai will look at me here when he comes back.
If he comes back. That thought sends me for another beer.
Two mornings before I am to report for camp, I find messages waiting on my phone.
KAI: Looks like I won’t be back until you’re out of town. Things will be hard with you starting your new job and my season beginning. It’ll take some work finding a time to get together, but I hope we can.
He had sent a second text an hour after the first.
KAI: How are things going? Did you find a place to live? I shouldn’t assume you want to see me. I bet you’ve had to fight off the boys with a hockey stick. You’ve met someone special, right? Hope we can still be friends.
J?vlar! Kai has dangled me on a rope for weeks and finally sends a message sounding like he wants to see me.
An hour later, he calls us friends and hands me to another man.
My chest is so tight I cannot yell, so I pound the mattress with my fists until I am worn out.
Then I lean back and stare at the ceiling until my growling stomach forces me out of bed and into the kitchen.
My hands work on automatic while I boil an egg and make coffee. Slicing cheese, I push too hard, and the knife nearly finds my palm instead. I set it down and look at it. My hands do not slip. This is not a thing that happens to me.
Since when am I like this?
I take a moment, but the crispbread breaks under the butter knife anyway, leaving me with two halves of something that was whole a moment ago.
This is what Kai is doing to me, one small precise thing at a time.
Idiot.
I do not know who deserves the label more, him or me. Maybe both of us.
Ta dig en benstr?ckare. Mamma’s voice comes through as if she were in the room telling me to take a leg stretcher. It worked when I was a kid, so I may as well try it. Leaving everything on the table, I go look out the window.
This is ridiculous, I tell the Hudson River in the distance. Kai does not owe me anything. He said he would be in touch, and he has been. Occasionally.
After sending Mamma a mental thank you, I sit down to eat and read Kai’s messages again.
In the first, he says, “Things will be hard with you starting your new job and my season beginning.” I sip coffee and read the second message.
These words stop me: “I bet you’ve had to fight off the boys with a hockey stick. ”
Since Kai went away, his messages have been careful, telling me only enough to avoid saying anything real. But in these, he may have told me more than he intended to.
I have never heard anyone but athletes speak of my season. Curious. He also mentioned a hockey stick. More curious. From American movies, I know the expression “beat them off with a stick,” but Kai did not say that. His words were, “fight them off with a hockey stick.” Fan.
What the hell does he do for a living?
Searching for him on the internet would be an invasion. Or would it?
Minutes pass while I put the dishes into the sink and move to my new couch in the living room. I stare out the window at the beautiful High Line view while I think things over.
If I search and find nothing, I will feel foolish and relieved. If there is something, I may have the key to repair things with Kai and learn where I stand with him.
I am tired of waiting. I need information so I can understand.
Typing KAI MERCER into the search bar brings up an astounding number of results. I tap on the Wikipedia article.
Kai Mercer is an American professional ice hockey goaltender for the New York Condors of the Hockey Federation of North America (HFNA). Widely regarded as one of the top goaltenders in the league…
Herrej?vlar! I sit back and read the first few lines again, slower this time. The New York Condors. Everything already makes more sense.
Mercer was selected fourth overall… named the Condors’ starting goaltender…
It is no wonder we connected so well. Despite our differences, we share the most important thing in our lives.
I race through the words until one line stops me: Mercer has spoken publicly about being neurodivergent…
For a long moment, I stare at the peace lily by the window. Everything falls into place. His focus, the careful way he speaks, the patterns he notices. The way he tracks everything.
Gunnar was neurodivergent. He was also brilliant, complicated, and one of the best people I have ever known. Kai is very much the same, and he is even more extraordinary than I thought. Not many could have accomplished all he has while carrying what he carries.
I exhale slowly.
Now I understand Kai better, but I still do not know why he is afraid of me.
I change into running clothes, and the thoughts follow me out the door and all the way to Central Park.
In the evening, I sit in my new recliner and reply to Kai’s messages from last night.
OSKAR: I am so happy to hear from you, silly Kai. I cannot wait to spend time with you, and the only thing I have beaten off is my own stick, the one you love so well. If you want to see me, we will make it work. Will you contact me when you are back in town?
His answer may tell me a lot or nothing at all. I need to be prepared for either one because Kai will do what he does. Though I hope to be part of his life, he has to want the same thing.
It isn’t long until my phone buzzes.
KAI: I’m surprised no one has scooped you up. Yes, I’ll text you so we can meet. Good luck starting your new job.
Kai is not a man who feels nothing. He simply does not know what to do with all he feels. I will wait for him to tell me about himself; letting him know what I’ve learned would only scare him more.
We will be at different training camps now, but whether he messages me or not, we will see each other soon. The Fury will play the Condors in our season opener.