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Last Winter's Snow

Page 16

by Hans M Hirschi


  “Really? Did you ask her?”

  “I did. She said something about them missing me, and wanting to know if I was fine and so on. They asked if I might come alone.”

  “What did you say?” Nilas asked, his heart beating faster all of a sudden, afraid of the answer to the question.

  “What do you think? I said no, of course. Listen. We’ve been a couple for twenty-five years, and for twenty-five years, I’ve had literally no relationship with my parents. I haven’t seen them since 1983. That’s a long time. There’s no way I’ll throw away what you and I have just to see those two again. So obviously, I told them that the only way they would see me again was if you were by my side. I’m not going to start compromising. Not now.”

  Relief washed over Nilas as he listened to those words.

  Casper took his hand and began to drag him out of the station. “Come on, let’s go eat. You haven’t planned on cooking anything, have you?”

  “No, I was hoping you’d want to go out. I was working from the house today, busy with staff appraisals. Easier to do those without being interrupted all the time. I haven’t even had time to think about cooking.”

  “Good. Let’s go for some Chinese, if that is okay for you?”

  Nilas nodded. “So tell me, when are we going to meet them?”

  “This Sunday, unless we have anything planned? I told Mom that I needed to check with you first. I could literally hear her seethe on the other side of the line, but she had no choice but to say yes.” Casper laughed at the memory. “I think it does them good, having to take you into account. I don’t think we have any plans though, for Sunday, I mean?”

  Nilas shook his head.

  “Good. I figured as much, but I just enjoy keeping her on tenterhooks… I’m a very bad son.” Casper laughed.

  “Nah. You deserve as much after all those years. I mean, you can call her in the morning and let them know.” Nilas was pensive. “I can barely believe it. I’m going to meet my in-laws, after twenty-five years. What do you bring along on such an occasion? Wine? Chocolates?”

  “Oh, beäjvviebájttuo, you are so sweet. I wouldn’t worry about it, but if you insist, I’m sure we’ll find something. If I recall, my dad was always partial to whiskey, but to be honest, after all these years, I don’t know. And Mom, she was a teetotaler back then. I don’t know about now. It was a religious thing with her, and she was never happy about Dad’s drinking. So, to be on the safe side, we should probably stay away from alcohol. We could bring her a plant?” Casper was laughing, and Nilas got the distinct impression that his better half was very nervous about the visit, probably more nervous than he was.

  ***

  The week went by in a haze for both of them, as the Sunday visit loomed like a Damoclean sword over their heads. In the end, they bought an exclusive box of chocolates and a white orchid to bring along as gifts. They took a train in the morning and arrived in Götene two hours later. Casper had called his mother the night before to inform them of their arrival time and was surprised when his father was standing on the platform, waiting for them. There weren’t a great many people exiting the train, so they were easy to spot.

  Having never met him, and only having seen old photographs, Nilas barely recognized the man, but he felt how tense Casper was, and heard his husband quietly whispering, “Oh my god, he’s aged so much.”

  Roland Algotsson was dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and dark tie, and his thinning gray hair was combed straight back. He looked a lot thinner and paler than he had on the few pictures that Nilas had seen. And old. Very old. Nilas tried to remember how old they must be. They were in their late forties when he and Casper met, so they’d have to be in their seventies. Not that old, but still.

  Casper quickly grasped Nilas by the hand, and squeezed it tightly before he let go again, a gesture that was caught by his father, as Nilas saw by the quick movement of his eyes, dropping and then rising again. Does he recognize his son? After all, it’s been as long for them.

  “Dad? Hi. It’s good to see you,” Casper said, as they reached him. He turned to Nilas and added, “May I introduce you to my husband, Nilas.” The way he’d emphasized the word “husband’ must’ve torn through Roland, as Nilas could see him twitch, before Casper turned to Nilas to add, “Beäjvviebájttuo, this is Roland, your father-in-law.” Using his nickname and slowly enunciating the words “father-in-law,” Casper made it very clear to both his father and to Nilas where his loyalties lay, and Nilas had to hand it to his husband, the author and linguistics professor. He does have a way with words…

  Roland extended his arm, and he and Nilas tentatively shook hands.

  “Roland, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Ah, yes,” Roland responded. Then he turned around, crossed the tracks, and proceeded to a beat-up old gray Mercedes.

  Casper shook his head. “Some things never change. That’s the same car they had when I was here the last time. Unbelievable…”

  They both sat in the back, as Casper didn’t want to leave Nilas on his own. The situation was so tense that they both were clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. After a fifteen-minute drive, they pulled up in front of a small house clad with gray Eternit shingles. There was a big spruce tree growing in the garden, partially blocking the view from the street.

  Roland pulled into the driveway and switched off the engine. Nilas saw the front door open, and a woman emerged. She was dressed in an elegant, but somewhat old-fashioned flowery knee-length dress and white apron, her white hair kept in a simple pony tail. She was wearing glasses, and if Roland had looked old, then Eva looked even older.

  When Casper noticed his mother, he instinctively took in a breath, and Nilas squeezed his hand.

  “It’s okay, babe. They wanted to see you. It’s going to be fine.”

  They exited the car, and Nilas followed Casper to the front door. He could see how forced the smile on her face was as she hugged her son.

  “Oh, Casper. I’m so glad to see you. Please, come on in.” She almost pushed her son through the door before she extended her hand in greeting to Nilas. “And I assume you’re Nilas. Please come on in.” No hello, no welcome.

  Why, thank you, mother-in-law dearest, Nilas thought to himself, smiling inwardly. This was going to be an interesting day.

  He walked past her and into the small corridor, where Casper was waiting for him. “Nothing’s changed here. I can’t believe it. I haven’t missed anything.”

  “Don’t say so, babe. I’m sure your parents have changed plenty. They’ve certainly aged, compared to the pictures you’ve shown me.”

  “Yeah, well…” Casper didn’t get any further as his mother and father had also come into the house and gestured them into the living room.

  “Oh, boys, no need to take your shoes off,” Eva said as she noticed how both men had already taken their shoes off.

  Nilas was surprised why she would want them to keep their shoes on. Nobody did that. They followed her into the small living room, decorated in a 1970s style, with a brownish faux-leather couch, a love seat, and a quaint old coffee table. In the corner, there was a big TV set and a bookshelf along one of the walls. On the other side of the room, there was the dining area, with two large windows out into the garden, and a door that presumably led to the kitchen.

  Nilas couldn’t help but check out the bookshelf, and he immediately noticed the three books that Casper had written, standing next to his dissertation from the University of Stockholm. Well, at least they seem to be proud of their son’s professional accomplishments.

  Apart from Casper’s books, there were very few books on the shelves: one or two biographies of dead kings, a history of Sweden, an oversized copy of the bible, and a couple of framed family photos. Nilas didn’t recognize most of them, but he surmised that there was a picture of Casper’s grandparents, a wedding photo of his parents, and a family photo from happier—childhood—days. There were also two photos of more rece
nt date, two girls, and another wedding photograph, and from the looks of the woman on the photo, Nilas guessed that this must be Casper’s sister and her husband. My sister and brother-in-law. And those must be my nieces.

  “Admiring my family?” Casper whispered from behind and put his arms around Nilas’s waist.

  “What are you doing?” Nilas was alarmed.

  “Nothing, just hugging my husband.”

  “Yeah, but what about your parents?” Nilas whispered, afraid they’d be discovered in this innocent yet compromising position.

  “They better get used to it.” Casper sounded annoyed. “So, I see you’ve met my family?” He let go of Nilas, who’d frozen stiff in his embrace, and instead began to point at the various photos. “These two here are my grandma and grandpa, on my mother’s side. This is my sister Elisabeth, or Bettan as we call her, and her husband John. And I guess these are my nieces, Eva and Linda, although I don’t know which is which. I’ve never met them.” His final words were laced with regret and pain, and Nilas wondered, if they, too, might show up today.

  “Please.”

  Nilas turned to find Eva gesturing them to the dining table, where she’d placed steaming pots, bowls, and platters. Lunch was served. Eva pointed for Casper to sit in what Nilas presumed to have been his customary seat, while she pointed to a seat opposite him for Nilas.

  “Please, sit here.”

  At least I’ll be able to see him, Nilas thought. The table could accommodate up to six, and Eva and her husband were both sitting at the short ends of the table, leaving much space for each of them, since two of the chairs had been removed and were standing against the wall. It also made Nilas feel vulnerable, but he didn’t say a word.

  Eva began serving the food. Bowls and platters were passed around, and not much was said during that time, but the atmosphere in the room was laden, and Nilas couldn’t help but think of the phrase, “the elephant in the room.” It felt like it was standing smack in the middle of the table, watching them slyly as they passed around the food. The air was so thick one could’ve sliced it with a butter knife.

  After a while, Nilas gave Casper a pleading look, along the lines of please, babe, say something, but for now, Casper was silent.

  “This is really good, Eva. Thank you!” Nilas tried to break the silence, but he wasn’t awarded with a response, although she did look at him, with a pained smile on her face. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Why did they invite us if they don’t want us here?

  The lack of response had Casper lose his cool. “Mom, Dad, we’re here, and Nilas and I are trying hard to be polite. The least you can do is explain why you’ve asked us here. Clearly, there’s more to this than just eating lunch in stone-cold silence?”

  Nilas could tell that Casper was a pressure cooker about to burst. Whatever his parents were going to say, they better say the right thing or Casper would go ballistic.

  There was a further moment of awkward silence, and Nilas felt his own heartbeat in his chest, thumping, almost audible. It was excruciating. He noticed Eva give Roland a pleading look, as if asking for help, but the man just stared down at his plate. If help was coming, it wasn’t going to be from him. Finally, she put down her utensils, carefully picked up her napkin and dabbed the corners of her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

  Nilas thought to himself, here we go!

  Almost imperceptibly at first, she began to speak. “This is not easy, son. We haven’t seen you in twenty-four years. Twenty-four long years. Do you know what that does to a mother? Do you know how that makes me feel? Then suddenly, out of the blue, we read about you in the papers, the magazines. Our son, a celebrity, a famous author. Neighbors, friends, asking questions: isn’t that your Casper? Isn’t that your son whose book was turned into a movie? All those questions, and we felt like we barely knew you.

  “And that pseudonym you use? Jonsson? Why couldn’t you use your real name? What’s wrong with your family name? Why couldn’t you use that on your books? You shame us, Casper, and you embarrass us in the eyes of our friends, family, our neighbors.” She began to cry, softly.

  Nilas was pretty sure those tears weren’t entirely sincere, but it did have an effect on Casper’s dad, because suddenly he put down his knife and fork, forcefully on the table, and said, “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made your mother cry!”

  Nilas was fearing for the worst, because he knew Casper. He knew the fierce loyalty his husband had toward those he loved, especially toward him. He also knew that those accusations were entirely baseless. For a split second, Nilas felt as if he was hovering above the table, looking down on the scene, seeing himself, sitting there, arms crossed, ready for the worst, watching Eva cry, dabbing the crocodile tears off her face, watching a seething Roland glare at Casper and, well, Casper, sitting there, silently steaming inside, ready to boil over. When he finally spoke, Nilas was surprised by the calmness in Casper’s voice.

  “Mom, Dad. Yes, it has indeed been a long time. But you won’t succeed in putting the blame for that on me. You are my parents, you are the ones who chose to not welcome Nilas, your son-in-law, into the family. I had no choice when I was born gay, but you made a conscious choice to disavow me, you made a very conscious choice not to welcome Nilas, the love of my life. You made a very conscious choice in not accepting me for who I am.

  “You now also have a choice to be happy about my success, but clearly, you choose to feel something else, and I realize that our visit here is not about me or Nilas. It’s because you want to partake in my success. You want to be able to spread gossip about the famous author to your friends, your neighbors. Well, here’s news for you. That’s not going to work, because it is not going to happen. I will have no part in it.

  “If you are ever serious about really getting to know me and my husband—when you really genuinely care about us, our work, our life as a couple—then we would be happy to come back. But at this stage, I feel we are wasting each other’s time.

  “And, by the way, Jonsson is my real name. I don’t use a pseudonym.” He put down his utensils, and gave Nilas a look that said come on, let’s get out of here…

  For a brief moment, Nilas didn’t know what to do. The situation was both embarrassing and harrowing, but also weirdly funny. Eva’s act, her crocodile tears, their attempt to place the blame on Casper, and his cool reaction, really was more comical than anything else, as tragic as it was to see a family so dysfunctional.

  When Casper rose from his chair, to the shocked looks on his parents’ faces, Nilas did the same.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Casper said. “If I ever, ever, hear anything negative from your circles about myself or Nilas, you will live to regret it. Until now, I have been nothing but respectful to the two of you, and I have always deflected any questions from journalists about my family. But I swear to God, if you ever cross that line, I will let the world know how you treated us. You know I can, and I hope you realize that I will. That’s when you’ll feel real shame, when you see your neighbors cross the street to avoid you.”

  Casper turned around and walked out into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket. Nilas followed suit, stopping only briefly to say “good-bye” before joining Casper.

  Once they were out of the house and in the street, Nilas took Casper’s hand and said, “Thanks for sticking up for us in there. Now what?”

  Casper made a groaning sound, squeezed Nilas’s hand, and responded, “The next step is up to them. You and I have to walk to the town center, and then either grab a bus or a taxi. Come on.” He pointed to a street turning left. “This way…”

  * * * * *

  2009

  Do You, Casper,

  Take This…

  The summer sun was high up in the sky. Nilas and Casper were once again spending a few weeks in the far north, in Gávtjávrrie, visiting family, and helping with the herds. But this trip was special, as they had planned on something else, too: to renew their wedding vows in a small
, private ceremony.

  Earlier that year, Sweden had become one of the first countries to opt for full marriage equality, after the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, Canada, South Africa, and Norway. For Nilas and Casper, it was a given, to upgrade their partnership to a real marriage, but since they had already been married for fourteen years, they also wanted to take the opportunity to celebrate their love with their family.

  Their lives hadn’t changed much since Casper had stopped working for the university. The first book in his crime series had been a big success, and rather than going back to teaching, he resigned from the university altogether, focusing on writing full time. Since 2003, he had published four very successful novels and the first two had already been turned into acclaimed movies. On a personal level, their life was good.

  Nilas was enjoying his work and had been involved in many great projects, keeping him busy and engaged. He was a department head now, with hundreds of people reporting to him. He often thought back to his first ever job interview, for that large telecoms firm, and how he’d lost out on that opportunity because of his relationship with Casper.

  Since that time, it had become illegal in Sweden to discriminate against people based on their sexual orientation, among other things, and Nilas was proud to have implemented the company’s first ever inclusion and diversity initiative. He had several LGBT people on staff and was actively encouraging his managerial staff to look beyond mere physical attributes, to not get stuck on people’s age, their sex, or disabilities when hiring. And he walked the talk, giving people chances to serve on his management team that others would have overlooked.

  As a reward for his initiatives, his department was the most productive in the entire organization, year after year. Nilas was convinced that diversity and inclusion worked, and that people rewarded employers who took a chance on them, just like his first employer in Stockholm, Artur, once had.

 

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