Epilogue
KAI AND OSKAR
KAI
A Year Later
The room is dark only because of the blackout curtains. Beside me, Ozzy is still, so I slip from under his arm and get out of bed. I pull on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and since the house is silent, I tiptoe to the front door. My watch shows it isn’t quite seven.
Outside, it’s already bright, not a surprise since it never got dark.
The sky is blue and dotted with wispy clouds.
As I stretch, I enjoy the cool, fresh air, which carries the scent of pine and petrichor left by last night’s rain.
The shore of Lake Hj?lmaren, with its sapphire water, is about twenty feet in front of me.
Nowhere else I’ve been feels as clean and calm as this place.
It reminds me of Ozzy. For a moment, I picture him when he was little, running down to the water and jumping in with a big whoop, meeting the other kids for a day of shenanigans.
A wooden dock stretches out over the lake. I walk to the end and sit, letting my feet hang over the edge near the water. The warm sun feels good as I close my eyes and lift my face to the sky.
This is a different world from New York, not because things are missing, but because of what’s here: the water lapping against the dock, bird calls I don’t recognize, leaves rustling in a soft breeze.
For the first time, I understand what tranquility means.
For a while, I do nothing but enjoy the silence.
Footsteps pull me out of my head. Ozzy’s here, dressed in a tank top and shorts. He’s pulled his hair into a messy knot, but his eyes are bright, and his smile is warmer than the sun.
“I thought you were asleep,” I tell him.
“Woke up and missed you.” He sits down and blesses me with a kiss.
When he pulls away, we lean against each other and look out at the water.
“I was imagining you as a kid,” I say. “Getting up early and running down here to meet your friends.”
“It happened. Probably about a thousand times.”
“You still see them here?”
“Now and then. We’re all grown and have our own lives, but it’s nice when I run into someone.”
We’re quiet as the sun climbs higher. I love feeling his body move as he breathes, and his little sounds of contentment only add to the peace.
“Breakfast soon. Mamma doesn’t like it when the food gets cold.” His voice breaks the quiet and makes a nearby bird squawk.
We get up and walk hand in hand back to the house. It looks exactly like I pictured a Swedish home next to a lake, with red wood and white trim, surrounded by wildflowers and evergreens.
Inside, the aromas of fresh coffee and baking bread greet us. Anna is at the stove, her blonde hair pulled back in a neat bun, and Fredrik is setting the table on the porch.
“God morgon,” Anna says. “Sleep well?”
Ozzy wraps her in a big hug. “I had a good night, thank you.”
She pulls away from Ozzy and hugs me. “How did you do, Kai?”
“I’m amazed I didn’t sleep all day. It’s so much quieter here than in New York.”
Fredrick calls out from the porch. “Did you get up with him, Oskar?”
“No, I had to go looking. He was already communing with the lake.”
“Is that so?” Anna asks. “There’s something about this lake that calls to people early in the morning.”
We walk outside with her, and she sets a bowl of boiled eggs on the table. The meal is a feast, and I like everything but the caviar in a tube they put on their eggs. When they visited New York, I learned the hard way that a polite, immediate refusal is the safest play.
“We’ve had this house since before Oskar was born,” Fredrik tells me, “but we didn’t bring him here until he was nine months old. He liked it so much he took his first steps right here on the porch.”
“He’s a natural lake-lover then.”
“He is,” Anna agrees.
“Do you remember that, son?” Fredrik asks Ozzy as I pour coffee into my mug. “Your first steps.”
Ozzy laughs. “No, but I remember hearing the story a million times.”
“We have so many memories here,” Anna says. “I can’t imagine summers anywhere else.”
“If only these walls could talk,” Fredrik says, then looks at Ozzy. “Remember when you and Gunnar decided to play water hockey?”
“Water hockey?” I ask. “How did that work?”
“It was nothing,” Ozzy says, blushing. “We got the idea to roller blade down the dock into the water and play one-on-one.”
Anna breaks into a laugh. “And practically stabbing each other with your sticks.”
“Why stabbing each other?” I ask. “Didn’t you have a ball to play with?”
Ozzy lets out a good-natured huff. “We’d forgotten to bring one, so we thought a puck would do. But it sank, and our sticks got mired in the bottom of the lake. We almost stabbed each other while we were trying to pull them free.”
Our laughter sounds especially happy out here.
Fredrik reaches for Anna’s hand. “Getting this house was a good decision.”
I can’t help noticing how they look at each other. Whatever they felt when they were young, it seems only to have grown stronger over the years.
Could Ozzy and I ever have this? Or are we too focused on our careers to build something that lasts a lifetime?
Anna turns to me. “Next year, you must come for Midsommar. The celebration here at the lake is very special.”
“We’d love that,” I say, though Ozzy and I have never discussed it.
His smile lets me know I’ve said the right thing.
“Great idea, Mamma. I’d like Kai to experience a Swedish Midsommar.”
After breakfast, Ozzy stands and stretches. “Race you to the dock?” he asks, a glint in his eye. “Then in the water?”
“You’re on.” I already know I’ll lose. He always beats me at swimming, but I never get tired of trying.
We change into swim trunks and head back to the water.
On the dock, he asks, “Ready?”
“For?”
Without warning, he grabs me around the waist, lifts me, and swings me toward the lake. I try to fight back, but he’s stronger, and the cool water is a shock. I come up sputtering to find him treading water nearby, laughing.
“You’ll pay for that,” I say, splashing his face.
“Bring it on.”
He wins the race, of course. Afterward, we wrestle in the water until we’re both breathless, and I finally manage to dunk him. When he resurfaces, I pull him close and give him a quick kiss.
“Love you,” he whispers.
“Love you too.”
After lunch and a nap, we take a walk in the woods. The path is narrow, shaded by tall pines. Ozzy leads the way, reaching back to help me over fallen logs or through patches of mud.
We don’t talk much because I’m busy gawking at the glorious scenery. Eventually, the path widens, and we’re able to walk side by side. I break the silence. “It’s beautiful here.”
“It is,” he says. “Not as beautiful as you, but close.”
I roll my eyes. “Smooth talker.”
As we venture deeper into the woods, the path slopes upward, and the air grows cooler.
Ozzy slows down as the trees thin out, and when we enter a clearing, he stops us.
We’re on a small bluff where the ground drops off.
Below, the lake is a deep blue, dotted with a few sailboats.
The sunlight glinting off the water makes me squint.
“Come here,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to a flat spot where the ground levels off. We sit with our shoulders touching. We’re probably forty feet above the water, looking down at everything below.
He points at a patch of red barely visible through the trees. “That’s Mamma and Pappa’s house.”
“Their sommarstuga,” I say, proud because I was brave enough to try the word.
“Listen to you. You’re getting more Swedish every day, baby.”
Anna and Fredrik are sitting on the dock in lounge chairs. “How long after your parents were married did they buy this place?” I ask.
“Oh, they are not married.”
I look over. “Seriously? They’ve just lived together all this time?”
Ozzy laughs. “Don’t sound so scandalized, hj?rtat. It’s not like they’ve been hooking up for twenty-seven years. They are sambos.”
“What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Sambo,” he says again, shifting so he can look at me.
“Basically, people who live together. But it’s not just having a roommate you sleep with.
Here, it’s official. You register as sambos, and it means you’re a team, fully committed.
The church and government don’t tell you how to define your relationship. ”
I blink and look at the red house. Anna and Fredrik built their life together by choice. Two kids, homes, a shared history. No traditional boxes to tick. Just a quiet, legal promise between two people.
My voice comes out soft. “It’s a permanent relationship? Because they choose each other?”
“Precisely. You choose to be each other’s home.”
Now my mind goes into hyperdrive. What about us? The condo in New York, the mornings waking up together, the quiet moments and loud celebrations. We’ve been together more than a year, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
The static in my head goes dead. For the first time in my life, I have no backup plan or exit strategy.
I know exactly what I want.
OSKAR
The Next Day
Bringing Kai to Sweden is one of the best things I’ve ever done.
As wonderful as the last year has been, he’s never seemed so content.
He’d gotten along with my parents when they visited New York, so I knew that part would be fine.
What I didn’t know was how much fun he’d have in Stockholm, learning a new city and exploring my old home.
And I never imagined how much he’d like it here. The house, the lake, the woods… relaxing in the clean air. The lake has always been my refuge; now, with Kai, it is more so than ever. How amazing it would be if we’re still coming here long after we retire from hockey.
The best thing is that we have another week before heading back to Stockholm. Yesterday, Kai told me he’s already in love with Sweden and wants to come back next year for Midsommar. If I could, I’d buy the tickets today.
“Ready for our road trip?” I ask, leading him to the old car.