Love in Theory and Practice: Chapters 1-13

When I wake up, I can hear soft music downstairs and can smell coffee. I can hear Elin chatting on the phone. I smile and stretch. Life finally seems to be coming together for me. I still can’t believe that Elin has agreed to live in Finland. I’m excited for the album to come out, I’m excited for the tour and I’m excited to spend my life with Elin.

I am now entirely certain that she’s the one. I know that there will ups and downs, naturally, but there is no one in the world I’d rather work through life with. I hear her hang up her call and she begins to hum along with the music. While it isn’t loud, sound seems to travel up the stairs of the tower rather nicely.

I haul myself out of the warm sheets and drag myself into the bathroom. I shower off quickly and change into some clean clothes. When I get down to the kitchen, Elin is propped up on the counter, nose deep in her book with a cup of coffee in one hand. She doesn’t even notice me come in. I love the way she curls the pages of her books; it’s a distinct characteristic that marks a book as “Elin’s.”

I smile and pour a cup for myself. I clink my cup on purpose on the counter to get her attention. She looks up, startled.

“Oh, good morning,” she smiles widely. “Pappa called. What’s the plan for today?” she asks. Her eyes are twinkling behind the frames of her glasses and her make-up free skin is rosy.

“Oh shit,” I mumble. “I’ll have to call my mother.” I begin patting my pockets down looking for my phone but I can’t seem to find it.

“Here,” she says and hands me her blackberry. I stare down at all the buttons and set my coffee cup down. She laughs and takes it back from me. “What’s the number?” I list it off and she hands it back to me when the phone is ringing.

“Technology.” I mutter while listening to the ringing.

“Hello?” my mother answers. After only a few moments of talking, we decide that everyone will meet at my house and stay there. No one wants to do too much driving in the snowy weather. We agree to celebrate New Years Eve here at the house.

Elin fills in her father via text message.

“We can’t possibly have people over here like this.” She chokes out through laughter. The kitchen really is rather messy. Coffee cups are piled in the sink and there are random papers and books all over the island. She jumps down from the counter and begins to make a list of all the things we’ll have to do before the family comes over.

It’s shocking how normal and easy it is to clean and prepare with Elin. When I lived with Jonna it was a chore that rarely ever got done because it only led to fighting. But Elin is efficient and pleasant. She and I picked out CDs to play and agreed to only clean downstairs. The bedroom and upstairs can wait for another day. She hums along with the music while she works and occasionally I catch her dancing along.

When the cleaning is done, she throws on her coat, pulls on her boots and kisses me goodbye before going to the supermarket. She insists on going alone; her reasoning being that she wants to be quick and if someone recognizes me, it’ll be anything but quick. She also knows that I’m one of those slow shoppers who likes to compare, read and wander. So I straighten up a few more things before opening my laptop.

I’d been thinking a lot lately about a future with Elin, what it would mean and what it would entail. There is no doubt in my mind that it’s the right way to go and I am certain she feels the same way. I can’t explain how I know, I just do. There’s something in the way we are together that just spells it out.

A few years ago my heart felt tired, old and bloodless. But Elin makes me feel young again. It’s almost as if I can feel hot blood circulating through my body since Elin came into my life.

She doesn’t care if I disappear into my own world for a while or if I decide to wander around town on my own. She’s able to do her own thing happily and easily. I browse around online for a while and decide that in the next few days I’ll have to go out. Purchasing something so important online just seems stupid.

When she returns, she quickly puts groceries away in the kitchen before running up the stairs to take a shower. I slowly follow her up with the intent of changing my clothes. She somehow had found time to shove the dirty clothes into the hamper, make the bed and open the curtains in the time it took me to get up the stairs. Her sweater is over the arm of the chair in the corner of the room by the bookcase.

When she’s done in the shower, she returns to the kitchen and begins cooking. She hasn’t told me what she’s making, only that everyone will like it. I’m slightly skeptical because neither of my parents are vegetarian but she assures me anyway.

“Will you just tell me?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her waist. I rest my cheek on her shoulder.

“It’s a surprise. Just relax.” She says with a laugh and pops a piece of broccoli in my mouth.

I stand back for a moment and admire her secretly. She’s wearing dark jeans that fit her perfectly and a blue button up shirt that looks like one of mine but is just the right size for her. She’s wearing her usual jewelry but she’s also wearing the necklace I sent her for Christmas.

Around 3:30 I hear a small yip followed by a knock at the door. Elin zips out of the kitchen and has the door open before I can even register.

“Pappa,” she says happily and lets herself be wrapped in what can only be described as a bear hug by one of the largest Swedes I have ever seen. While her father is roughly the same height as me, possibly even a little shorter, he is muscular and formidable. “Baudy!” she coos softly as her father passes her the tiny little dog wrapped in a blanket.

He says something in Swedish and Elin’s smile fades. She looks down at the little bundle and her lip trembles but she holds back any tears.

“Come in, Pappa,” she says quickly and ushers him in. “This is Ville.” She says and smiles while gesturing to me.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say and extend my hand to her father. His handshake is just as strong and authoritative as Elin’s.

“And you as well. Lilla Gulla doesn’t do good things for anyone so you must be one hell of a man.” He says with a deep laugh.

“Oh, Pappa.” She says absentmindedly. She’s gently rubbing Baudy’s ears. He really does look worse-for-wear. His eyes are lidded and his little nose is extra pink. He doesn’t have any of his usual energy.

I show her father into the living room while Elin mindlessly wanders around with the dog in her arms. I’ve never seen her this way; distracted and vague.

“She’ll pull through.” Her father says when we’re seated in the living room by the fireplace. “But it is unnerving to see her this way.”

“I have to admit, I’ve never seen her like this.” I say quietly.

“Ah, well Elin is like her mother: formidable, precise and calculated. But when they lose their concentration, it’s almost eerie. So tell me about yourself.” He says heartily.

We dive into conversation about our careers, family and homeland. I’m happy to remember that Mr. Blix is Finnish and we get along easily, speaking in Finnish. It turns out that we have a lot of interests in common. I had originally been afraid to meet Elin’s father but now that I have, I have no misgivings. He’s warm, intelligent and interesting, just like his daughter.

Within an hour and a half or so, Elin settles in with us. She’s found a small basket for Baudy to sleep in near the fire and seems content for the time being to leave him there. Somehow I know she’ll spend the night holding him with that far-off look in her eyes.

When my parents arrive, everyone is in a good mood and everyone seems to get along wonderfully. It only took Elin a moment to recover from the shock of my mother grabbing her and pulling her into a hug. My father and Mr. Blix talk business while my mother embarrasses me in front of Elin with stories of my childhood.

The surprise for dinner is that Elin has prepared several dishes exactly the way they are served at Toi on Sunset, my favorite restaurant in Los Angeles. She made my favorites with tofu and the rest with chicken for the non-vegetarians: my parents and her father.

We talk about all manner of things late into the night. It seems that for an odd assortment of people, we get along rather well. My mother helps Elin clean up after dinner. I discuss manners of business with my father and Mr. Blix. Suddenly Elin bursts into the living room.

“It’s almost midnight! We’ll miss the fireworks!” Before anyone can say anything, she’s pulling on her boots and yanking on her coat. She’s out the front door and in the yard before the rest of us have our coats on.

“Fireworks. She’s always loved fireworks.” Her dad mutters under his breath while he zips up his coat. I smile and step out into the fresh snow to join Elin. She looks childlike, nearly knee-deep in the snow with her arms wrapped around her body and her eyes trained on the sky.

When the fireworks are long vanished from the sky and the snow has, once again, begun to fall gently on the already frozen ground, our guests depart. We receive hugs from everyone and my mother whispers in my ear how much she loves Elin. Elin’s father tells her not to push Baudy too far and to let him go when it’s his time. She nods silently and he kisses her gently on the forehead.

“I’m so glad to have met you,” Mr. Blix says and shakes my hand. “Help her with the dog, please.” I silently agree and he claps me on the shoulder before heading to his car. My parents wave one last time before driving away.

When I turn back into the hallway, I catch a glimpse of Elin where she’s sitting by the little basket by the fireplace. When I come into the living room, she has the little dog in her arms and is rubbing his ears the way she always does.

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” She says helplessly. I don’t say anything; I just sit on the floor behind her and pull her into my lap. I wrap my arms with hers and together we hold Baudy for what seems like hours.

When she moves to pull the dog closer, I snap out of, not sleep but a dazed state. She gasps a little and sniffles. I understand that Baudy is gone and Elin probably doesn’t want to talk.

We sit on the floor for a while longer in silence before Elin places him back into the basket. She tucks him in as gently as you would a baby but covers his little face. I run my hand over her forehand and over her hair. She sighs and leans back against me.

“My poor baby.” She says in barely a whisper.

When she falls asleep in my arms, I carry her upstairs and tuck her in bed. She sighs in her sleep and snuggles further into the sheets. I fall asleep twirling one of her curls around my finger.