an affection, you know, for here. For Montana. I just assumed—”
He blew into his bare hands, then rubbed them together and stuffed them in his coat pockets. “Sure. I mean, I live in Chicago and my life’s there, but I love it here, too. I wasn’t clear before. We drove out to Choteau twice a year like clockwork until I started college. Spent a lot of time in Montana as a kid. My mom and Kristian’s mom are sisters and they didn’t think a twenty-four hour drive was reason enough to keep them apart.
“My Aunt Lisabet and her family drove out to Chicago for Thanksgiving and Easter. And we spent New Year’s and Midsommardagen in Montana for a week each every year. Never missed either my entire childhood. No excuse was good enough for my mother, you know? I may not have always loved the drive, but I always loved being here.”
“Whew! Twenty-four hours!”
“Yeah. With two older sisters heckling me in the backseat.”
“You’re the baby, too.” She smiled at him, seeming fascinated to find they had a bit of common ground when their lives seemed worlds away. “You celebrate Midsommardagen ?”
“Of course! My mother’s Swedish. Anyone with a drop of Swedish blood celebrates Midsommardagen !”
She smiled. “My father’s Swedish. My mother was Norwegian. She used to say that Midsummer was just an excuse for drunken fools to stay drunk all weekend. But I know she loved everything else about it. She used to braid my hair with flowers on Midsummer morning every year…hers too.” She paused then added quietly, “She…she died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jenny nodded wordlessly, looking at the river below, while he stood beside her in silence. Where did that come from? She didn’t generally share her private business with strangers. Then again, Sam didn’t feel like a stranger to her, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense since she had just met him.
“You still have kin? In Choteau?” She was anxious to change the subject.
“Mmm,” he murmured, his breath coming out of his nose like smoke. “Kristian’s family. My aunt. She’s alone now. My uncle passed away a few years ago. My cousin Katrin still lives up there somewhere, too, but I haven’t seen her in years. Kristian and I were really close, more like brothers than cousins. Anyway, I am sure there are other cousins up there too; I just don’t know any of them anymore.”
“It’s not so far from here,” Jenny observed. “Five hours, I guess. More if there’s snow.”
“I won’t see them this trip.”
“Do you wish you were? Seeing them?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I loved them, you know, when I was a kid. But, my life is very far away from here, Jenny. A whole other world.”
She held his eyes for an extra beat before dropping them and nodding that she understood. Whatever she was looking for wasn’t there, and she bit her lip with a fleeting, inexplicable melancholy as they started walking again.
***
Jenny was glad to be home, but it felt odd to have Sam accompany her to her small apartment, which hadn’t hosted many single men. She was acutely aware of him—of how his tall body took up most of her entryway, how his muscular forearms were freckled and corded when he pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt after handing her his coat. She could feel herself staring at him, so she spun abruptly, hanging his coat in the small hallway closet by the front door.
She needed a distraction. Coffee. I’ll make some coffee. She turned and he followed her into the kitchen. Casey wiggled her bottom back and forth wildly in her playpen, whining for attention.
“Oh, wow!” Sam walked right over to her and picked her up from her nest of shredded newspaper. She licked his nose and whimpered excitedly. “She’s beautiful.”
Then, to Casey, “Who’s a good pup? Who’s a good puppy?”
Jenny watched Sam with amusement, surprised by him yet again. Puppies were unpredictable and nippy, liable to piddle down your middle
He blew into his bare hands, then rubbed them together and stuffed them in his coat pockets. “Sure. I mean, I live in Chicago and my life’s there, but I love it here, too. I wasn’t clear before. We drove out to Choteau twice a year like clockwork until I started college. Spent a lot of time in Montana as a kid. My mom and Kristian’s mom are sisters and they didn’t think a twenty-four hour drive was reason enough to keep them apart.
“My Aunt Lisabet and her family drove out to Chicago for Thanksgiving and Easter. And we spent New Year’s and Midsommardagen in Montana for a week each every year. Never missed either my entire childhood. No excuse was good enough for my mother, you know? I may not have always loved the drive, but I always loved being here.”
“Whew! Twenty-four hours!”
“Yeah. With two older sisters heckling me in the backseat.”
“You’re the baby, too.” She smiled at him, seeming fascinated to find they had a bit of common ground when their lives seemed worlds away. “You celebrate Midsommardagen ?”
“Of course! My mother’s Swedish. Anyone with a drop of Swedish blood celebrates Midsommardagen !”
She smiled. “My father’s Swedish. My mother was Norwegian. She used to say that Midsummer was just an excuse for drunken fools to stay drunk all weekend. But I know she loved everything else about it. She used to braid my hair with flowers on Midsummer morning every year…hers too.” She paused then added quietly, “She…she died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jenny nodded wordlessly, looking at the river below, while he stood beside her in silence. Where did that come from? She didn’t generally share her private business with strangers. Then again, Sam didn’t feel like a stranger to her, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense since she had just met him.
“You still have kin? In Choteau?” She was anxious to change the subject.
“Mmm,” he murmured, his breath coming out of his nose like smoke. “Kristian’s family. My aunt. She’s alone now. My uncle passed away a few years ago. My cousin Katrin still lives up there somewhere, too, but I haven’t seen her in years. Kristian and I were really close, more like brothers than cousins. Anyway, I am sure there are other cousins up there too; I just don’t know any of them anymore.”
“It’s not so far from here,” Jenny observed. “Five hours, I guess. More if there’s snow.”
“I won’t see them this trip.”
“Do you wish you were? Seeing them?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I loved them, you know, when I was a kid. But, my life is very far away from here, Jenny. A whole other world.”
She held his eyes for an extra beat before dropping them and nodding that she understood. Whatever she was looking for wasn’t there, and she bit her lip with a fleeting, inexplicable melancholy as they started walking again.
***
Jenny was glad to be home, but it felt odd to have Sam accompany her to her small apartment, which hadn’t hosted many single men. She was acutely aware of him—of how his tall body took up most of her entryway, how his muscular forearms were freckled and corded when he pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt after handing her his coat. She could feel herself staring at him, so she spun abruptly, hanging his coat in the small hallway closet by the front door.
She needed a distraction. Coffee. I’ll make some coffee. She turned and he followed her into the kitchen. Casey wiggled her bottom back and forth wildly in her playpen, whining for attention.
“Oh, wow!” Sam walked right over to her and picked her up from her nest of shredded newspaper. She licked his nose and whimpered excitedly. “She’s beautiful.”
Then, to Casey, “Who’s a good pup? Who’s a good puppy?”
Jenny watched Sam with amusement, surprised by him yet again. Puppies were unpredictable and nippy, liable to piddle down your middle
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