Epilogue #2
“We’re taking this?” He gestures at the faded blue Volvo station wagon that’s been a fixture at the summer house for as long as I can remember. “This thing looks like it’s been here since the Middle Ages.”
“Hey.” I try to look offended. “It is a classic. Besides, it has character.”
“Character or multiple personalities? Which one are we getting today?”
“Keep it up, Mercer, and you’ll find yourself stranded alone on the back roads of Lake Hj?lmaren.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” He holds up the picnic basket Mamma gave him inside. “Where should I put this?”
“Back seat’s fine,” I say, sliding in behind the wheel.
The car’s interior smells like my childhood. Nothing can replace the memories of sun-warmed vinyl, pine needles, and the faint scent of lake water that no amount of cleaning ever eliminated.
Kai gets in and says, “I’m in the mood for an adventure, Olofsson. Don’t let me down.”
That grin of his. I’m tempted to say to hell with the drive, take him back inside, and fuck him.
Instead, I turn the key, and the engine starts with a reluctant groan. I glance at him as we pull away from the house. He’s beaming, ready for a fun day.
I think back to our early times, when Kai’s fear of commitment nearly drove us apart.
There were days when I thought about giving up, convinced I’d never break through all the walls he’d built around himself.
But I never seriously considered it. I had a stubborn belief that we were meant to be a couple.
Now, after living together for a year, I’m so thankful I didn’t walk away.
I have the life I always dreamed was possible.
“Where are we going first?” he asks.
“You’ll find out.” I turn onto the main road that circles the lake, and soon we’re winding through wooded areas as the water appears and disappears between the trees.
I point out landmarks of my childhood along the way. My favorite swimming hole, a spot where I once went to mope and got eaten alive by mosquitoes, and the woods where my friends used to smoke weed and tell me I was too serious about taking care of my body.
Pointing to the right, I say, “That’s where I had my first-ever date with a girl. I’d spent all morning making sandwiches for us.”
“Did you bring all your girlfriends here?” His tone is teasing but definitely curious.
“No. And she wasn’t really a girlfriend. We kissed a time or two and decided it was too gross.”
We both laugh, and he says, “Glad you changed your mind about kissing. You’re good at it.”
“What can I say? I met the right guy.”
As we drive on, we talk about New York and how busy we’ll be when we get home. Between the Fury and Condors, several of our teammates are getting married. When I mention the weddings, he gets wiggly and starts tapping his fingers on the dash. I almost ask if something is bothering him, but I don’t.
“Here we go,” I say, pulling off the road.
He takes the basket of food from the back seat, and we walk down to the water.
“Look how sparkly it is,” Kai says. “And that smell. Water, woods, and sun. How much better could it get?”
I spread a blanket on the grass. “I thought we’d eat here.”
“Good. Perfect scenery for lunch. Is this another spot you and your friends found?”
We sit down, and I shift until our knees are touching. “I’ve never brought anyone here. This was always my special place, just for me.”
His expression softens as he looks into my eyes. “I’m honored to be the first one.”
I swallow hard. “I never liked anyone else enough to bring them here.”
He leans over, and we kiss. This moment is the best thing that has ever happened here.
Mamma has sent sandwiches, fruit, and some of the cinnamon buns that are her specialty. Between bites and moans of pleasure, we enjoy the nature sounds.
Kai starts to say something, then stops himself. I wonder again if something is bothering him, but I don’t push. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.
Once we finish all the food, he leans back on his elbows and looks out at the water. “I could stay here forever, Ozzy.”
“Me too. But only with you.”
He turns so we’re facing each other. “You mean that?”
“Yes. I told you last year I don’t want anyone else. I still feel the same way.”
The words hang between us. Sometimes I’m afraid saying such things might scare Kai, but the hope and happiness in his eyes convince me it won’t.
He clears his throat. “Remember how you told me your folks are sambos?”
I nod.
“That caught my attention in a big way. Anna and Fredrik are great. I can see how much they love each other, and they’ve built a remarkable life together.”
I nod again.
He takes a moment before asking, “Have I ever told you I don’t think I want to get married?”
My stomach doesn’t sink. It crashes.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with someone forever,” he says. “I want a life with a man I love, but marriage is so… heteronormative.”
“Yes,” I say, “it is.”
“I never knew there was anything like sambo. We don’t have it in the US, but I wish we did.” He pauses, then inhales a noisy breath. “You said the most beautiful thing, that sambos choose to be each other’s home. No government, no church. Only love and commitment.”
My heart is racing so much I can’t speak.
He takes my hand and squeezes it. “I love you. You’ve made such a huge difference in my life that I can’t even imagine living without you.” He hesitates again, then clears his throat. “What would you think if we officially decided to be each other’s home?”
My eyes sting, and I nod yet again.
“We could go back to America and build a house somewhere,” he says. “Make a life that’s better than either of us can imagine.”
“That sounds…” I stop because I sound like a bullfrog, and he can’t understand a bullfrog. I swallow and try again. “That would be the most perfect thing that has ever happened.”
He looks into my eyes. “Oskar Olofsson, I choose to be your home. Will you be my sambo?”
“Yes.” I’m crying now and couldn’t care less. “I choose to be your home too, Kai Mercer.”
We kiss. It isn’t a long one, and it doesn’t even approach making out. Yet it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had because Kai is the man I love, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
He’s my sambo. My home.
As I drink in his smile in the middle of a Swedish forest, I realize we’ve been finding our way home since the day we met.
THE END