 
The Language of Winter

By Gavin Green

Smashwords Edition

Also by the author:

Eire of Intrigue (book one of the Eire series)

Eire of Mystery (book two of the Eire series)

Eire of Hostility (book three of the Eire series)

Eire of Aggression (book four of the Eire series)

Into the Shadows (book one of the Shadows series)

Embracing the Shadows (book two of the Eire series)

The Way of the Beast

Copyright 2016 Gavin Green

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events are purely imagined. Any resemblance to real people or situations is a wild coincidence.

The language of winter

I thought I'd write everything down while it's all surprisingly clear in my head. I'm stuck in this damn hospital bed anyway, so why not. I don't know if it was the accident, surgeries or meds that made my memories so vivid, but I'm taking advantage of it.

Through my window, I can see flurries drifting down. Snow... It's an appropriate place to start.

*****

Winter has always been my favorite season, and growing up in North Dakota gave me a lot of time to enjoy it. To me, snow offers a sense of... clarity, I guess. Its stillness and purity always helped me focus, helped me compose myself in any situation. Taking a deep breath of cold air always felt refreshing to me, cleaner somehow. Since I can remember, snow always relaxed me in a way nothing else could.

Some locals out in the northwest of the state where I was from used phrases for the winters like "bitter chill", "witch-tit cold", or, quoting one of my brothers, "holy crap, I could carve ice with my nipples". Not me. Well, almost never me. I mean, you can't ever really brace yourself for arctic temps when you don't prepare for it. Wearing only a t-shirt and shorts to let the dogs out in the mornings, all my delicate parts would suddenly pucker and threaten suicide. Being stupid was not exactly something I could complain to my mom about, unless I wanted to be told exactly that.

Other than that, I really did like winter more than any other season. I didn't care that ice formed on the inside of my bedroom windows; I could stare at the views of my family's ranch for hours. The way that the landscape would change from a rugged prairie to a vista of white blankets and blue shadows... it was truly calming. I'm a big fan of calm, mostly because of all the crap flying around in my head. Yeah, that sounded weird. I'll explain it in a minute.

Winter was also the time of year my brothers and I could get the snowmobile ready and abuse the hell out of it. Plus, with layers of snow on the ground, I didn't have to be out there on foot dodging cow shit landmines while chasing those stupid animals around.

Honestly, I sucked at ranching. I'm talking about those core skills that epitomize a cowboy. The family dogs were better at it than I was. I never really understood why I never got the hang of it, either. I must not have inherited that 'cattleman' gene. After I was old enough to help with chores, my dad quickly decided that I do anything else besides weaning or driving cattle. It didn't help that I had the firm belief - and still do - that Herefords are the douchebags of bovines.

And roping? I could juggle tennis balls, but I threw a lasso like I was being paid to miss. Anyone who roped in my family made it look easy, even my sister. For a while, I suspected that I was adopted. Don't even get me started on riding a horse. Hell, I didn't even wear a cowboy hat or chew tobacco. When it came to ranching, I guess you could say I grabbed the bull by the tail.

I'm not against working. In fact, I actually like it. Luckily, growing up on a cattle ranch offered various opportunities for good ol' labor. There's a sense of pride finishing off a job. Plus, I love my family, so I wanted to do whatever was needed. Even being the youngest of five, I found my niche. Well, at least as far as chores went, anyway.

I liked doing things on my own - fixing fence posts, pulling stumps, chopping wood, those sorts of things. It was basically a lack of options, seeing as how the damn cows ignored me. Group chores like giving calf vaccinations, branding, whatever \- no, thanks. For some reason, I just don't do well as part of a team.

Besides chopping wood, there were a few talents I learned I had early on. They seemed pretty disjointed at first, like if you were a good cook, could finish any crossword puzzle, and knew metalsmithing. I can't do any of that; I'm just making a point. It was like the fates were drunk and tossed a few random abilities my way. I made the most of them... well, two outta three ain't bad.

*****

To explain what I'm talking about, I first have to explain my family a bit. Bear with me; I'll make it quick. My great-grandfather Max moved his wife and boy out of Sweden back in nineteen-dickedy-doo. It was about the time when Hitler found out he could be a psychotic ass-hat and get away with it.

Max did well in the cattle business back in the old country, so he brought his money over here and bought over three thousand acres and a good herd to start fresh. He chose North Dakota... yeah, _chose_ it. He moved from the land of mountains, primeval forests and beaches (some of them nude - Swedes on nude beaches; let that sink in) to a land where people get excited about a hill. Way to pick the place where boredom was born, Max. Personally, I think he lost a bet.

Max Rylander's only son was my grandfather Elias, who eventually took over the Rylander Ranch. In his early twenties, Grandpa Eli took a trip back to the homeland and returned with a wife. He and Grandma Hannah had two boys. The younger son, Lars, moved back to Sweden when he was nineteen, with his parents' blessing. The elder son is my dad Erik, who stayed to help run the ranch. I don't think he ever regretted his choice, although it's tough to tell with those stoic types.

Being in Weegie (Norwegian) and kraut central, my dad met and married a German-American named Emma. Yeah, I said kraut - I'm half German, so I have that right. WWII ended a long time ago; let it go. There are pocket communities in the northern Plains that to this day speak mostly German. Mom was from one of those little burgs, where everyone sounds angry. Let's face it, even compliments said in German sound like a threat. I remember as a kid being afraid to go visit my mom's cousins until I figured out they weren't discussing how to chop me up and make bratwurst.

All of this meant that A) there were three generations of Rylanders living happily together under one roof. One big ass roof, too - Max had one of those jumbo farmhouses built. After the third-story attic spaces were renovated, there were a total of eight bedrooms in the house. Oh, and B) there were three languages - English, Swedish, and German - being shouted around. Some conversations at the dinner table could get pretty scrambled. Trying to train the dogs was a joke; with three different words for 'stay', they pretty much stopped listening to any command we gave. I couldn't blame 'em.

It turned out that I had a knack for languages. In that environment, I was nearly fluent in German by the time I was six. By nine, I was having conversations with my grandpa in Swedish. My brothers and sister would turn to me when a parent or grandparent would revert to a native tongue to yell at one of us. I was usually honest with translations, and it gave me the opportunity to cuss in foreign languages.

See where I said 'usually'? Little brothers can be jerks sometimes.

*****

Just for the record (or posterity, in case anyone gives a damn), I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Daniel \- Dan - Rylander, youngest of the clan, inheritor of my dad's sandy brown hair, my mom's blue eyes, but not quite all of the Rylander height that my brothers got.

Two years older than me is my sister Andrea. Her looks were noticed by all the boys at school, but having overprotective brothers didn't help her social life. Three years older than Andrea are the twins, Jakob and Josef. They were generally considered the reason my parents had gray in their hair. The eldest, seven years older than me, is Peter - a rancher to the core. He's big, hard-working and mellow; a good brother and role model. My parents were both about 31 years old when I was born, so my grandparents were, uh... shit, they looked old then. Ranch life will do that to ya, I guess.

Anyway, as a kid I was usually seen around the ranch with headphones on, letting a foreign language swirl around in my brain via Rosetta-Stone products I'd asked for as Christmas or birthday gifts. My dad and Pete would pull my ear buds out to explain how to take care of the machinery; tractors, haying equipment, ATV's, family vehicles, you get the idea. I caught on quick, and eventually became the ranch grease monkey. I had to be convinced that term wasn't some sort of insult.

By the time I reached my teens, I was doing most of the simple maintenance on the various engines around the ranch. I didn't mind at all. It was an excuse to avoid some of the less savory chores, and I liked keeping things running for everyone's benefit. Grandpa Eli would give me a slap on the back for my work, so it was also a source of pride. Pavlov's Dan, that's me.

That sort of leads to something else I was pretty good at: running. I figured it out when I was twelve or so. One summer morning I went to the back porch to tug on my field boots and do a bit of hunting. After shoving my foot into one of my boots, I found it filled to the ankles with wet silage and manure. Jake and Joe were watching from around a corner and couldn't hold back their laughter, those dickheads. They got in trouble with my parents for it, but mucking stalls was apparently worth the prank.

The twins didn't keep in mind what my own set of chores gave me access to. A week later, they were coming out of the supply barn. When they pushed open the big doors, I doused them with a full bucket of used motor oil. It didn't seem wise to stay near the outbuildings trying to dodge two brawny and pissed-off brothers, so I high-tailed it straight out into a field with them in pursuit. I literally left them in my dust. Okay, I was fast - yay me. It didn't stop my boots from smelling like rancid ass from then on.

Now I'll mention the other end of the spectrum, just so I don't come off as an obnoxious jackass. For starters, my memory for simple stuff just sucks. I can juggle and compare different languages in my head, but I need post-it notes to remind me to comb my hair or put on socks. No joke; it was literally that bad. I guess having a brain for lingo came with a price.

My sense of direction is, well... I don't have one. Thank God for compasses and GPS. Honestly, it's embarrassing as hell to get lost out on your own property. And for another thing, I wouldn't say I'm messy; 'specifically disorganized' is a better description. I know exactly where some things are, but other stuff I'll need sooner or later? More post-it notes, please.

*****

By the time I was fourteen, I was adding Norwegian to my linguistic list, but couldn't say I was fluent in it at all. Having a bunch of foreign tongues bouncing around my noggin makes me socially awkward at times, but being that way as a teenager almost guaranteed my virgin status.

If I was in one of my 'lingo fogs', as I call it, I wouldn't realize someone was talking to me. Or better yet, I'd hear a question and respond in the wrong language. Yep, I was my own brand of dork. What words I did say in context usually came out sorta blunt. I didn't think about reactions when I opened my mouth, so I tried to keep it shut when possible.

My mom once told me, "When you're not working on your languages, maybe you should talk less." I think I got being blunt from her.

In ninth grade, I tried out for some sports. The twins, who'd already graduated, pushed me for football. They played it, and said I'd kick some ass with my speed; Jake and Joe weren't dicks all the time. Tioga High actually ran seventh through twelfth grades, with a total of less than 140 kids. Sound kinda small? Compared to most other schools, you betcha. Then again, I thought my little grade school was crowded. Needless to say, I'm not a big fan of crowds.

So, like I've said before, I'm not good in a team setting. I'd rather win or lose by my own efforts. So, I went out for wrestling as something to do in the winters, and track and field in the spring so I could avoid the chore of herd vaccinations. I wasn't even the one with the needle, but I always got a hoof kick just for being there. Then again, I did refer to every single one of those stupid animals as "hamburger", so maybe it was karma.

Without ever saying so, my parents understood that I didn't see ranching as a way of life like... well, most everyone else. They wanted to make sure I had the chance to find out what I really wanted for myself, so they let me go out for sports even when I might be needed at home. They're cool like that. We lived about twenty minutes from the school, so my mom and Andrea took turns picking me up after practices. I've since learned that a lot of families suck in comparison to mine.

Grandpa Eli sometimes called me 'workhorse', but I never thought I deserved it. I'd have some language in my head while I worked and would simply lose track of how much I'd done. I'd always get lost in my head. Chopping wood, for example; I'd keep going at it until my muscles burned, or until my hands were too numb or raw to hold the ax any longer. I got used to the stink of Ben-Gay.

My dad was aware of the effort I put in, even with chores I sucked at, and knew it wasn't because I loved the ranch. He saw it as a birthright. I saw it as a business. That big difference kept us from being close, but he never held it against me. I couldn't ever say thanks for that; it's not the Rylander way.

Anyway, I met with Coach Iversen the second day of my freshman year. I was already in pretty good shape, but he wanted me to start in on a lifting and cardio regimen before wrestling practices began. He said it would also help with track and field because I was built more like a sprinter than a runner. As long as he didn't try to put me on a relay team, I was fine with anything else he wanted me to try. That might sound snooty, but I knew my weaknesses and I didn't want to let anyone else down.

*****

A few weeks into that school year, there was a very different topic of conversation around the dinner table. While Andrea and I were at school, the ranch had unexpected visitors. A businessman, a lawyer and a geologist came and had a talk with my dad and grandpa. They were interested in a big parcel of our land way out on the west end, over two miles away from the house. We didn't use that area of land much; it sucked for crops and wasn't much better as pasture, although there was decent hunting in the wooded pockets. During that family discussion was the first time I heard the word "fracking".

About two weeks later, I started weight training after school. Andrea was waiting for me in my parents' car when I got out. She had this weird smile on her face, but wouldn't tell me what it was for. Shit, women and their secrets. I let it go until I got home, where I saw more stupid-ass grins. My mom was wearing one of them when she hugged me and asked how my training went. I might get a kiss on the cheek if it was my birthday or something like that, but displays of familial affection and old-fashioned German women didn't normally go together. My mom was on the verge of giddy.

I slipped out back and found Pete, who told me what was going on. After some hard-nosed negotiations between Grandpa and Dad and the energy company guys, over one fifth of the Rylander Ranch was in a long-term lease contract. Pete also said something about a signing bonus and additional monthly profit percentages, but finances and legal treaties were definitely not in my wheelhouse.

Okay, so we suddenly became "financially lucrative", as my dad put it. Not that you'd hardly notice. New windows were installed on the house, Andrea and the twins each got pre-owned cars, Pete started making plans for his own house closer to the creek, and we stocked up on feed. I didn't think we could be called rich, but the worries over droughts or tough winters were gone. I asked my mom if that meant I could get a new rifle and some linguistic software. I was told she would be saving most of my share for college. Well, hell. I was a teenager - I didn't want to be sensible.

*****

Most of ninth grade went on just like the year before. I had some of the same teachers, I had a few friends I'd hang out with at lunch or study hour, and I tried to keep the mumbling to myself in the hallways to a minimum. See, Norway has two national languages, and I was trying to lock them both down at the same time. Plus, I was taking German 1 that year. I was acing it, although having two other languages in my head wasn't helping. Stupid Weegies.

The only difference in ninth grade was sports. In wrestling, I did fairly well and won a majority of my matches, but I wasn't crazy about it. Wrestling with my brothers out in the yard or in the dining room was one thing, but grappling with some sweaty stranger in tights wasn't exactly my birthday wish. Don't get me wrong, I'm no homophobe but... I, uh... okay, fine, I'm a bit of a homophobe.

Then track and field started in the spring. Damn, that was more fun than I thought it'd be. Besides running and jumping events that I did well at, I got to throw stuff around as far as I could. My mom or grandma would yell at me for doing that kind of shit at home, which only heightened the experience. Coach Iversen would give the compliment that I "explode off the block" or "explode from the line", which would make me chuckle; I kept thinking of "explode" as a sexual connotation. I was fourteen and stupid - sue me.

Before my Tioga High track and field team had any meets, we practiced and practiced. And then we trained. It didn't bother me; I was enjoying myself. Besides, there were a few events that I was pretty good at from the start, and being shown how to get the most out of my throws, jumps or sprints only bolstered my confidence. I stuck to events like the 100 and 400 meter run, discus throw, javelin throw, long jump and 300 meter hurdles. My carb and protein intake had my grandma worried.

When my very first school meet was about to start, I nearly freaked out. I hadn't thought about all those people in the bleachers watching me. I was so nervous that I threw up in Coach Iversen's ice chest. To this day, I remember his frowning face as he looked down into the mess I'd just made.

"Glad to see you're eating granola," he said calmly, with a touch of contempt added in.

I can laugh about it now. My brothers, who were seated nearby, saw the humor in it immediately. Jake was rolling all over the bleachers, and I think Joe pissed himself a little.

By my last meet of the year, I'd earned a couple medals. I learned to zone out, put on headphones and focus on a foreign language just before any event. I stopped worrying about my performance and then just threw myself into it, with Swedish or German or Danish syntax swimming around in my head. When I put it like that, it sounds sorta demented.

*****

In retrospect, my early teen years were a time of self-awareness. Surprising, I know, since those were also the years of me - or most any other teen - being a jackass. I found a few skills, took notice of some faults, and more than once thought about my reactions. I figured it was a result of spending a lot of time on my own. Or sometimes _not_ on my own, but ignoring anyone around me. I had languages keeping me company. Almost anytime that I was acting like a dick, I swear it was unintentional.

Beyond that, there came a time when I, like most any other young man, had to face a certainty of life. It was a simple matter, yet it led to social and personal complexities that few boys are prepared for. It would forever alter our perceptions and motivations, this fascinating and blatant aspect of reality. Of course, I can only be speaking of one thing: boobs.

In my case, I had a single focus - well, mostly. Her name was Amber Odegaard. Where a majority of North Dakota girls decided to keep their winter fat year-round, Amber was petite. Since we were in the same grade, I'd been vaguely aware of her for years. She and I rarely spoke, having no reason to. But then ninth grade came along, and so did her chest. I stared at the cute girl and her new curves from a distance. Not in the creepy voyeur sorta way; just whenever we were in the same hallway or class. Ogling her up close like a drooling pervert wouldn't have won me any points.

Then something wonderful happened. It was near the end of the school year, and the second to last track meet was at my school. I had done well in my first three events, but nothing spectacular. I had only the 400-meter sprint left. With Swedish slang in the front of my head, I blazed a time that qualified me for district competition. Catching my breath after the run, I first looked for my posted time and then up into the outdoor stands to spot any family. My grandpa rarely missed any of his grandkids' events.

Leaning against a security rail down front was Amber, pretty as all hell and looking right at me. Then she smiled. It knocked the breath right back out of me. A second later she ran off with her friends, leaving me slack-jawed and sweaty. I didn't even have time to smile back, or wave, or even stumble over to mention the nice way she was stretching out her Shania Twain t-shirt. Don't put it past me. Blunt and awkward, remember?

A simple smile... It's that kind of shit that can have a kid walking on clouds. It also completely screwed up my language concentration for about a week, wondering what that smile meant. The school year ended before I worked up the nerve to find out. I know, I know - pathetic.

*****

For a long time during my early teens, I was getting psyched for an upcoming event; a family tradition, so to speak. As a fifteenth birthday gift, my grandpa had taken each of my brothers on a trip back to Sweden. It was a 'coming of age' gift that he insisted upon. My turn was up; my birthday is in early July and we caught our flight a few days after it.

I had the advantage of being fluent in Swedish, plus I'd been keeping in touch with my uncle Lars and his family. I was looking forward to meeting them, in a nervous sorta way. If I was a dork - which I expected to be - and said something in the wrong language to them, chances are no one would notice.

Due to my grandpa's old world chauvinism, my sister Andrea wasn't given the same offer as me and my brothers. Rather, she was given the opportunity when she turned sixteen to take a trip wherever she, Mom and Grandma decided on. They chose California; beaches, the redwood forest, shit like that. Andrea had her birthday back in March, but held off the trip until just before school started again. All of the women were excited for the "girls only" vacation. Andrea didn't see her own offer as a slight; she was very close to our mom and grandma, so she was getting what she wanted.

My brothers and I thought Andrea was kinda getting shafted on the deal, but then again we'd have to tackle some unfamiliar chores and cook for ourselves for a week. There was no food joint that delivered as far out of town as the Rylander Ranch, and no one wanted to make the drive back and forth every day for a big fast-food run. We were stuck with Pete's bland chili and Dad's burnt offerings.

Pete mentioned at dinner one June evening that Grandpa Eli had an "adventure" planned for his other trips, and asked if one was arranged for mine as well. My grandpa just smiled and nodded. My dad and brothers chuckled knowingly. My mom and grandma acted as if the short conversation never took place. My sister looked as confused as I felt. As much as I pleaded with my brothers for information, they wouldn't tell me jack shit.

On the second leg of the long flight, when we were somewhere over the Atlantic, Grandpa Eli gave me a nudge when a flight attendant stopped to serve drinks to the passengers across the aisle. I looked past him and admired her backside for a second, just as he was. When she moved on, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye and an infectious grin.

"Dirty old man," I muttered in Swedish. "Even if you found the energy, you'd probably break a hip." My grandpa and I had always been close and informal, so the jovial insult was fairly tame.

He gave a quick chuckle and then said in the same language, "Oh, so you happen to think the old horse doesn't have any gallop left in him? Don't fool yourself into thinking your grandmother's occasional limp is from arthritis."

I cringed, trying to avoid any visuals of him and my grandma rubbing wrinkles. He laughed again at my reaction and slapped my knee. I groaned, "Is there any way I can bleach my brain?"

"Ah, Daniel, my boy," he continued in Swedish as his laughter died out, "you're coming of an age of revelation. And by that I mean money and sex... but mostly sex. The true weight of money will come later. All I'll say about it is that you should use money like the first time I let you use my rifle. It's a privilege, and you treat it with respect; shoot sparingly and be careful."

"Yeah, I remember that first time," I said with a wry grin. "You let Jake load it while Joe set up pumpkin targets. I don't know where they got the hollow-point rounds, but it scared the shit out of me when the pumpkin blew up."

"It surprised me too." Grandpa Eli then sighed and commented, "I'm more surprised that they've managed to stay out of jail or not get some girl in trouble." He looked me right in the eye and said, "Don't let yourself get into that kind of mess. The twins are clever, but they don't think things through like you do, so I don't worry about you so much. Still, it's worth the warning."

"I got it, Grandpa. Pete already got me some condoms, and Andrea already started warning me about a few girls at school... not that I'm anywhere close to putting either of those things to use."

"Not to worry," he responded, reclining in his business-class chair, "it'll happen. I suppose your brothers already told you a thing or two about sex, and don't think I don't know about pornography on the computer. Let me tell you, Daniel, sex and love are two different things, and sex is the easier of the two by far. Just figure that one out for now."

I hesitated and then quietly said, "But it's just so confusing... and scary."

"That's what makes it so fun. Enjoy yourself, don't worry so much. Here, focus on this: some crazy Irishman once said, 'Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power'. That should give your brain something to mull over, and in whatever language you're into now." He settled back into his chair and closed his eyes. "There, I've offered a little wisdom, about the same as your father and brothers got when they were your age. Now don't wake me until we're over land again, unless that flight attendant wants to sit on my lap."

*****

We had a layover in Frankfurt, Germany before getting to our destination of Gothenburg, Sweden. That's where my uncle Lars and his family live. With time available until our afternoon flight, my grandpa took me out into the city. We hit a few shops and I was able to tune up my German inflections and slang in the process.

Grandpa hailed a cab for us, pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, gave it to the driver and off we went. Something was going on, I just didn't know what. When I asked him about it, he only said, "You're going to have an adventure." Great, just great; can you imagine all the wild shit a fifteen-year-old can come up with from that statement? The old schemer just smiled.

What was in store for me soon became obvious. Hell, it was written in bold neon pink letters over the double-doors of a big mid-town building: BROTHEL. I'd studied up on Sweden, not Germany; I didn't know prostitution was legal there, let alone a thriving industry. In my defense, though, my web-surfing never brought me to sites about Frankfurt hookers. I guess I didn't try hard enough.

My grandpa talked to one of the security guys \- I'm guessing the one who spoke the best English - and apparently bribed the shit out of him to let my young virgin self in. A fifteen-year-old kid that hardly needed to shave yet, I found myself in the lobby of an upscale European whorehouse. Not really a whorehouse, I guess, because it was a renovated five-story apartment building. Maybe more like a courtesan complex. Whatever you wanna call it, actually being in one was intimidating.

What made me forget some of my anxiety was how classy the interior was. My preconceived notion of a brothel - a dim, smoky salon with stained furniture and the pungent odor of Lysol over sweat - was blown out of the water. That place had lounges, bars, a game room, a small indoor pool, and a kitchen and banquet area. It was all modern and tasteful, with the light aroma of roses and cotton candy.

The same thing could be said for the ladies; I didn't see one 40-something chain-smoker with bad tats and even worse teeth. The girls who meandered throughout the main floor were all pretty and sociable. And all scantily dressed, let's not forget that. Actually, I'll never forget that.

There was no madam to set me up with a random pro; I got to choose. Just like the brunch buffet that the brothel was serving, it also had - I shit you not - an all-you-can-screw offer for a flat rate. My grandpa handed me some deutsche marks (this was a couple years before Germany converted to Euro), told me I had two hours, and that he'd be in the buffet room. 'Kid in a candy store' doesn't quite cover it.

I took advantage of the situation, but not completely in the way you'd expect. I lost my virginity to a stunning German woman named Ursula, who took very good care of me and bolstered my confidence. I then had a wild time with a younger Romanian woman name Flori. I hadn't experienced the Romani language before, but with my talent I picked up a couple important words and phrases... although they couldn't be used in polite conversation.

Needing a breather, I went back down to the main floor to find Grandpa Eli. He was in a lounge next to the buffet area, nursing a beer and chatting with a few of the ladies. Much more relaxed, I joined in the conversation. I learned that of the 25 or so ladies who worked there, only eight or nine of them were Germans. The rest were Russian, Romani, or Czech. Huh, international whores.

The lady next to me, Belka, was from Moscow. She started giving me tips on her native tongue, which I found quite interesting and picked up quickly. Grandpa reminded me that I had some time left for a bit more fun, but I chose to keep learning more Russian syntax from a hot immigrant prostitute with exposed nipples. Oh yeah, big dork.

*****

We were met at the Gothenburg airport by my cousin Viktor. He and I had chatted during few phone calls, but we mostly emailed in Swedish. Vik had just graduated from some university and had taken an offer to work for a big industrial company down in some town called Lund. He was home to see our mutual grandfather and enjoy the family get-together. Despite the age difference, Vik and I got along well, and the drive to my Uncle Lars' house went quickly.

I think it was appreciated that I spoke his language. Most Swedes can speak English, but I guess it's a national pride thing, not having to accommodate a foreigner you're supposed to be nice to. Americans would expect visitors to speak English. We really are kinda arrogant like that.

Uncle Lars had a roomy house in a picturesque lakeside community just outside of Gothenburg. He and my aunt Maren \- and their other three kids besides Vik - greeted us warmly. Lucky us, we were just in time for dinner. Yes, it was meatballs. There was lively talk all around the table; it almost felt like home, except that everyone spoke Swedish and didn't throw food at each other.

Grandpa was given use of the spare room, and I got the comfy couch in the den. For the day I had, it wasn't surprising that I was out like a light, dead to the world for nine hours. Dreams of Ursula and Flori kept me company; thank God I slept on my stomach.

For the three-day visit, there were plenty of activities. I went jogging each morning with my uncle Lars and his second eldest son, Axel, who was just a few years older than me. He pointed out a bunch of cultural differences as we ran or took drives around the area. My two youngest cousins, Molly and Alice, were apparently happy to have an American relative and wanted to show me off to all of their little friends. Uncle Lars was an entertaining host while we had backyard barbeques or went fishing. Aunt Maren was the stereotypical Swedish reserved type, but also had the clichéd Swede looks - even at 42, she was pretty damn hot. I did my best not to stare. Hey, she wasn't my blood relative, don't judge.

Unlike a lot of fifteen-year-olds, I had a vague idea of what I wanted to do later in life. I had a passion for languages and wanted to make use of my talent. Uncle Lars and Grandpa Eli gave me more ideas for being a professional linguist of some sort. It was pointed out to me that within my extended family were potentially great contacts. As I mentioned, my cousin Vik was with a big industrial company. Uncle Lars had an office job in the Volvo headquarters nearby, and one of aunt Maren's brothers had an important title with some international contracting firm. My vague idea crystallized a bit that day.

*****

A few simple patterns of thought made my sophomore year a blur. First and foremost was my ongoing fascination with languages. I started to make an effort to mix those thoughts in with my normal stuff, rather than let them be a distraction... not that it always worked.

By then, I had fair mastery of Swedish and German, a good grasp of Norwegian and Danish, and was quickly soaking up Russian. I mostly did it on my own, except for foreigner pen-pal emails, and audio books. Oh, and my mom and Andrea helped me with flashcards I made. They kept the cards so I wouldn't lose 'em.

Languages were a personal passion, so I never mentioned it outside of the ranch. I was still a dork, but I did my best to keep that low-key. I mean, it would be social suicide in an aggie community to announce that ranching really wasn't my scene and I liked learning things that alienated me.

Another focus that year, and I suppose for every year since, was females. My sister Andrea got the ball rolling concerning my object of silent desire, Amber Odegaard. It was at a wrestling meet that my school was hosting. Amber had started doing little articles for the school paper that year. My instigating sister saw the young reporter in the gym that night. I found out at the breakfast table the next morning that Andrea had a little chat with her during my match, and that I should expect to be interviewed.

The emotions of outrage, elation, and anxiety all met in my stomach, ready to fight.

*****

The next morning at school, things weren't much better. I was nervous as hell. I felt clammy and slightly nauseated. I thought everyone was staring at me. My shirt felt itchy, and I bumped into a couple door frames while scratching at my neck; yeah, I was a mess. I knew Amber would probably catch up with me during study hall after lunch. Part of me couldn't wait to be close to her, but another part wanted to walk the fourteen miles back home. After my first class, I compromised by decorating a school bathroom sink with my breakfast.

Two classes later, my German II teacher noticed me looking like shit and sent me to the nurse; I was already ahead of his curriculum, so it was no big deal. I rested on a squeaky cot and put my headphones on, letting a foreign language flood my brain until lunch. Yep, my source of anxiety was also my relief. How messed up is that? Thankfully, the wise nurse had half a roll of breath mints waiting for me when I was leaving her office. I know regurgitating bacon is a sin. Evidently, it's also kinda pungent.

I couldn't even look at food at lunch time, so I trudged to the study lounge and waited for the inevitable. All too soon, other students started wandering into the room. I had my head down and was taking deep breaths when I sensed someone standing next to my chair. I looked up warily and there was Amber, smiling at me. I quickly tried to find the middle ground between not breathing and puking breath mints on her shoes. Shit, there wasn't a middle ground. I went with the safe route and held my breath.

"Hey, Dan," she said. Damn, her voice was like warm honey. At least that's what my high testosterone level convinced me of.

"Uh... hey," I replied waveringly. Yep - smooth.

"So, like, I'm with the school paper this year, did you know?" I didn't get a chance to respond. "It's so cool, I get to write stories about some sports and, like, special interest pieces and I even get to do little articles on teachers. I got to interview Ms. Schumacher this morning about her cats and ferns. It's not, like, the best story, but I have to start somewhere, I guess." Amber pulled out the chair next to mine and sat while she continued to verbally batter me without missing a beat. "Anyway, I was at the wrestling meet last night. Did you see me?"

"I, uh..."

"I was watching; you did great." There was that smile again, but with just a hint of beguiling shyness. I made a sighing-moan noise, like when you finally make it to a toilet. Amber didn't even blink.

"Anyway, your sister came over and said hi to me. I mean, like, it was awesome having a senior talking with me and Andrea is so nice and pretty. She should be head cheerleader, honestly. That Carla Burk is such a snotty cow, right?"

My thoughts on Carla Burk started and stopped with curves and long blonde hair, in that order. Yeah, she was a bitch, but that didn't matter from a distance. No, I didn't say that. Give me a little credit.

"Anyway," Amber continued as she fished out a notebook and pen from her backpack, "she told me some cool stuff about you. I mean your sister, not Carla. And so I thought it would make a good story to fill an empty spot on page three."

Ugh, nut kick.

"Oh, I, um, just meant..." she mumbled, realizing how her words sounded. "It'll be a real good article, I swear, and page three is a good spot." Amber verbally plowed on to get past the unintended insult. "So, like, I had a few questions to start with, and we can make it like normal talking or something. Does that sound alright?"

She actually paused and waited for a reply. I had a deer-in-the-headlights moment, just staring at her. She was looking right back at me, so I couldn't let my eyes roam down to her sweater. From how Amber started out, I didn't really expect her to stop talking. I cleared my throat and replied, "That sounds good to me." Shit, shit, shit - I said it in Swedish.

"Huh?" She surprisingly didn't have that _'oh-crap-he's-a-dork'_ look that I was expecting. She was still smiling, but it turned crooked from her confusion. Hell, it was cuter than her normal grin.

"S-sorry about that; I, um..." Hell, I was a nerd in denial.

"That was, like, a different language, right? Andrea said something about you being able to speak some other languages, but you won your match just then and the crowd got loud and I didn't hear everything she said." Amber paused and then quietly asked, "So, can you?"

My adolescent brain took that vague, innocent question, turned it into a dirty innuendo, and sent it directly to my groin. It was seriously the wrong time for a boner. "Uh, can I what?"

Her smile widened. "Speak different languages... can you?" She clicked her pen and waited.

"Uh, yeah, some, I guess. I mean, not counting English, I know five or so but I'm not fluent in all of 'em." Amber quickly asked me to say a simple sentence in each language I knew. Right after saying, "The school meatloaf was replaced with donkey turds and no one noticed," five different ways, she giggled.

Normally, giggling is good, but I got really nervous. She was going to put it in the paper, evidence that I was a dork. My object of internal interest and external insecurity would be subject to public opinion, my privacy forever violated. All at once, my nerves flooded with hot dread. My heart sunk, my neck started to itch again, and my stomach told me it had a little more breakfast left to share.

Amber stared at me with a strange look in her eyes, and then softly said, "That is so cool."

"It is?" Amber Odegaard didn't think I was a dork! She kept looking at me and kept forgetting to write things down for her story. Screw public opinion, she liked it - liked me. Yes! My heart thumped, I forgot about my shirt collar, and I was suddenly hungry. Oh, and 'dork'? Where? Not me, not there, not then.

From there, with my confidence up, things with Amber went smoother than in my daydreams. Granted, some of my daydreams involved her being horny and aggressive - and a bit of a contortionist - but I never actually expected that. Hoped, yes, but what guy doesn't? We met between some classes, began eating lunch together, and shared lingering farewells after school until Andrea would honk the car horn impatiently. Of course, she teased me all the way home.

The article Amber wrote about me was in the next week's four-page school paper. It covered my good wrestling record and how I nearly beat the school record for the 400-meter sprints in my freshman year. The article finished by making note of my linguistic skill. The reaction was better than I feared it would be. Mostly, it was just curious looks or nods of acknowledgment. A few people asked for translations of stupid sentences. My friends Zach and Billy asked that since there was a story on me if I was going to become fluent in the language called 'smug-douche'. That's why we were friends.

*****

My relationship with Amber continued through our sophomore year, although it remained as bumpy as how it had started. With me not being old enough to drive yet, it caused a few minor problems... but mostly for her; I was quite content to have some time to delve into my linguistic interests. Besides, I was having no luck exploring her physical evolution.

Less than a decade into the new century, cell phones were uncommon and texting wasn't around yet. Those facts did not deter Amber from calling my house all the damn time. I stopped answering; she was only gonna talk about her and her friends some more. One time, I set the phone down for literally five minutes while she was bitching about somebody, and she never even noticed.

Half the time I asked whoever answered the phone to make an excuse for me. Of course, Jake and Joe ran with it, and boy, those bastards laid it on thick. I'd have to tell Amber the next day at school that, no, I did not crap my pants; or, no, I was not masturbating to 'Dora the Explorer' when she called.

By the end of my sophomore year, some things looked good and some didn't. To be exact, I mean sports and my girlfriend. I did pretty well in wrestling, and I excelled enough in a few track and field events to qualify for district. I got stronger and started filling out, which helped with the heavy labor at home. On the bad side, things with Amber and I started getting irritating.

Admittedly, I constantly forgot to call her when I was supposed to, and would zone out when she would drone on about whatever. My charmingly blunt self once said, "Sometimes, all of your talking is like a long train going by in my head," and it wasn't well-received. Shocking, I know.

And then there was the sex, by which I mean... none. Groping Amber's bra wasn't getting it done. I mean, I had my world rocked by European sex pros, and then had to accept that my hand was going only so far up a girl's skirt. I don't know, maybe my expectations were too high - I was only fifteen and knew more than I should have.

My sexual frustration wasn't Amber's fault; she had standards, and I respected her for that. At the same time, I was so discouraged at having heaven within reach but denied it that I became sullen and moody. Sometimes I would either run or pump weights to get the pent-up energy out of my system. And other times... well, you know. I saved myself the embarrassment by doing my own laundry.

*****

I remember some advice my grandpa gave me about my problem. It was a weekend in the spring, near the end of my sophomore year. He and I were giving my brother Pete a hand with the frame that was going to be his house. Pete had been seeing a gal named Lori for a while, and wanted his own place on the ranch to start a family.

A construction crew did most of the work, but my industrious big brother added his own touches. I was bringing in yet another stack of cut wood when I heard Grandpa and Pete talking about the woman who would eventually become part of the Rylander clan. I was happy for Pete, but his good relationship reminded me of how crappy mine was.

"And how goes things with your little damsel, Daniel?" Grandpa asked me.

I guess I tipped my hand when I tossed the wood into a corner with a grunt. "Eh, don't ask," I huffed.

Pete looked up from putting extra screws in the floorboards. "Look here, little brother, you can either get it off your chest, or you can go change your tampon so I won't have to buy more lumber. Your call." That's why I respected Pete so much; he didn't mince words. Not to mention he could kick my butt without breaking a sweat. I deserved it anyway.

"What's the issue, boy?" Grandpa Eli asked with a bit more sympathy than my brother.

I slumped against a wall stud and absently checked my hands for splinters. "I don't know, Grandpa. All Amber does is talk and talk. I used to think about being with her all the time; now I just think about her shutting up for five minutes."

Grandpa grinned, and Pete barked a laugh. "Yeah, we sort of noticed that she's... chatty," my brother commented. "Don't get me wrong, Danny, it was nice that you invited your girlfriend to a family dinner, but she rambled on through the meal and dessert non-stop. Dad figured that she was just swallowing her food whole in order to keep talking."

"See, that's just the thing!" I shouted, letting my temper show. "I didn't really even invite her! She kind of invited herself, saying I should meet her family and she should meet mine and blah, blah, blah. I know it sounds bad, but I sat there at the dining table last Saturday, embarrassed for Amber because now everyone thinks she's a babbling twit. And I knew a world of shit was waiting for me, knowing I'd never hear the end of it, especially from Jake and Joe. And I was right. The really bad part is... I sat there staring at my food, hoping she'd choke on the brisket, or that one of her lungs would suddenly collapse."

"Oh, don't hope for that. She's got some nice lungs," Grandpa said with a grin and a wink.

"I'll take your word for it; I haven't seen 'em yet," I grumbled. "And part of it is that whenever I do get a chance to say something, Amber just nods like I'm a little kid or something until she's ready to start yammering again. I don't think she even listens."

"Do _you_?" Pete asked.

"Not anymore," I admitted. "I used to, I really did, but it was never anything more than stupid gossip and crap about pop stars and nail polish and who gives a shit what else."

"Daniel my boy, girls don't want to hear what you think, no matter how profound," Grandpa said. "They want to hear what they think, but in your words."

I thought on that for a few long seconds, and then asked, "But what if _I_ think that what _she_ thinks is dull and stupid and pointless bullshit?"

"Well, in that case, you're screwed," Grandpa answered with a smile. He then added, "Unless you have a chance of screwing, in which case I say hang in there."

Yep, I was screwed, and not in the good way. I thought the situation might get better with Amber after I turned sixteen, got my license and bought Pete's used pick-up when he got a new one. I thought it might give me more presence, that conversations would stop being so one-sided. And maybe it would give me more leverage to get past first base and occasionally stealing second. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. I was stupid, thinking that a late '90s Chevy would fix my relationship. But hey, screw it, I had a truck.

*****

My junior year became a time for focusing on important matters. In a way, that decision was thrust upon me because of women. Amber and I broke up less than two months into the school year. She said I was insensitive and distant, which I was by the end. She didn't take being called names half as well as I did, although yelling in her face that she was a self-absorbed windbag wasn't very nice.

That was also about the time that Andrea went off to NDSU way over in Fargo. She was my closest friend, my emotional guide, my in-house therapist. I missed her pretty bad that first year. Then Grandma Hannah caught pneumonia after Thanksgiving, and it lingered. She wouldn't go to the hospital; it was tough enough to get her to go to the clinic in Tioga. Damn women were wearing me down.

I didn't want to think of how things with Amber went so wrong, didn't want to keep noticing my sister gone, didn't want to let my sick grandma down because she always encouraged me. So I focused. Maybe it looked like I withdrew, but I was just trying to get myself in a good position for later on. And, to be honest, it was an excuse to block all of the sour reactions I had at the time. Call it the fickle emotions of youth; call it me being an introvert. You could even call it hiding in my head, shielded by languages. You'd probably be right.

I gave myself a study plan for languages, which my parents helped me with. I got a teacher to set me up with a bunch of language certification tests, and I clinched a number of 'em. I dropped wrestling and trained solely for track and field events that I was better at. My grades only rose from a B- average to a B+, but that had to do; there were just some things I wasn't good at. Home Ec. was stupid anyway.

Tioga High didn't have an auto shop class, so I studied engines online or from library books. More than once I was caught doodling big engine blocks and fantasy machinery during \- you guessed it - stupid Home Economics class. Hey, it's not like I could focus all the damn time.

*****

Things got better nearing the end of that school year. Grandma Hannah got over her serious case of pneumonia, although her general health remained sort of delicate afterwards. Andrea kept in touch regularly, and even visited home a few times. She was going into accounting and pledging a sorority.

I was getting some recognition in track and field; I had my sights set on being a decathlete in whatever college I could get into if my linguistic skills didn't open any doors. I knew from the fracking income that my university options were open, but I wanted to get my foot in a door on my own merits, ya know?

I also started casually dating a sophomore named Nicole Kramer. She definitely wasn't part of my plan, but she started talking to me at the school Halloween party and we clicked. Nicole knew of me from the article in the school paper the year before. She also was one of the photographers for our yearbook and had taken a few shots of me during my track events. She was cute (without being full of herself), bubbly (without being a moron), and affectionate (no 'without' there - Nicole was fun). She never appeared to want to get involved to the point of deep, weepy feelings... and I ran with it.

Nicole and I were exclusive but casual, I guess you could say. We went to parties together, took drives (and agreed on how mind-numbingly boring the landscape was), and spent a good amount of time fogging up the windows of my truck. I was her first; I lied and said she was mine too. You can't really blame me for that. Think about how it might have gone over if I told her the truth... yeah, probably not too well, right?

Nicole was my date for junior prom and Pete's wedding the following spring. Best of all, we didn't smother each other, and had few emotional expectations. Thank God for that. At that point in time, I really wasn't a 'meeting expectations' kind of guy - sometimes called 'male'.

Two guys I met at the wedding reception were like second cousins or something on my mom's side. Mike and Tim were also cousins to each other, grew up together, and worked as ranch hands on a spread somewhere south of ours. They looked to be about the same age as my brothers Jake and Joe, except that they acted mature. My mom introduced them around, dropping the big news that they'd be working for the Rylander Ranch soon.

I guess my dad checked up on Mike and Tim by calling their former employer; he didn't care if they were his wife's kin, he took no chances. That was my dad, a sentimental softy. Yeah, right. My cousins were apparently described as experienced and honest. They were in.

I asked my dad about the unexpected hires, and he gave me a few good reasons. One, Grandpa was getting too old for labor, no matter how much he denied it. Two, my brothers would be staying, but he knew I'd be moving on after high school. My dad knew that I'd stay if he asked, but he also knew my life was somewhere else. And three, a family vacation to visit his brother - my Uncle Lars - was planned after I graduated, and he wanted the ranch in dependable hands for a short time.

Well spank my butt and call me Nancy, my dad surprised me. We were taking our first family vacation? He was letting loose of the reins to actually - gasp - enjoy himself? I figured Grandpa Eli coerced him somehow, but I never found out.

*****

As the summer before my senior year was ending, I knew I had a lot of work to do. I scouted around for linguistic scholarships, practiced more in my field events, worked on my fluency of a few languages, and put college applications together. Logically, summer was always a busy time on a cattle ranch, so I had that to contend with as well.

My mind was made up. I wanted to be a translator. I soon learned that translators and interpreters have specialties, like legal or medical or whatever. I chose engineering. If I didn't have a talent for languages, I would have gone after a mechanical engineering degree anyway. It was that or work on tractors.

Through my extended family in Sweden, I already had some top-notch potential contacts. Yeah, most Swedes can speak English, but they weren't always so hot at writing it for instructional jargon and whatnot. I could also transcribe from Swedish to other languages. That's where I hoped to initially come in, to fill a specific niche. If my contacts had any other northern European links, I planned on knowing their native tongues as well. Okay, not Gaelic. I mean, who cares?

I wanted to get into a school that offered Scandinavian Studies, and also had a decent engineering department. It wasn't an impossible combination, but it certainly narrowed my choices. A downer was that none of the possible schools were in my state and close to home. Hell, nothing was close to home.

*****

During all of the crap I was dealing with into my last year of high school, Nicole was a champ. Whenever I got stressed out, she'd take me to this shady little pond outside of town to mellow out. She helped my mom update my post-it note reminders. Sometimes she just kept me company while I worked out or prepped for my SATs. Not to mention the frequent sex, even if there was only time for a quickie.

After senior year started, I got a few of my teachers and my coach to write letters of recommendation to add to my applications. That made it sound easy; I had to kiss some serious ass, which is not my forte. I'd put some decent folders together for acceptance, but I thought they were a little bland. I never was a pizzazz kind of guy; I never paraded myself and I can't fart glitter.

But then Nicole had an idea to help me stand out with admission committees. She brought it up out of the blue while we were having lunch in the school cafeteria. "Hey, how about this," she began with a chipper tone, while I was staring at my food to make sure it wasn't moving by itself. "Instead of sending your stuff in online, you could send packages and we'll put a DVD in with 'em."

Keep in mind that sending a video attachment wasn't available yet. In rural North Dakota, even DVD's were a pretty fresh idea at the time. Not to imply that we were banging rocks together to make fire, but it wasn't far off.

"Uh, I don't know, Niki," I said. "I'm not much for standing in front of a camcorder. I don't even like having my picture taken."

"Yeah, I know," she replied with a snarky lilt. "I'm in the yearbook club, remember? I looked at the shots of you from the last few years, ya know, just to look. You look cute in all of 'em, but you were always staring off somewhere, like you were high."

"That's the look I was going for: adorable pot-head."

"Well done, bong master." Nicole's sarcasm always came with a smile. "But look, I got this video idea during my social studies class - soooo boring - and I have it figured that for most of the filming you can just ignore I'm there."

"Oh, like normal, then."

"Jackass," she retorted with a smirk.

"You know that's not true." I reached across the narrow table and held her hand. "I like looking at you, but if you're gonna have your dad's camcorder pointing at me... I don't know... I'm gonna get all nervous and rude. You know how I get."

Nicole gave my hand a squeeze. "Don't worry, I have a plan. And if I can make it come out like I see it in my head, you'll owe me big time."

"And if it doesn't, you'll have to..." I paused and then pointed down at my tray, "... eat whatever this is supposed to be. I'll save it in a box so it can't crawl away."

*****

The next weekend, Nicole came out to the ranch with her dad's camcorder. She got there early on a Saturday and set the little machine up on a tripod in my bedroom, but never turned it on and apparently forgot about it. We just hung out for a bit, talking about school and the ranch and my visit to Sweden.

She asked me about the different track and field events I competed in, but as a game she told me to explain each one in a different language. I found that to be sort of a challenge, switching from one language to another quickly. It reminded me that knowing a bunch of languages is useless unless I had something worth saying. At only seventeen, it was a struggle.

I apologized for having some ranch chores to get after, but Nicole didn't seem to mind. My grandma invited her to stay for lunch. I checked the message board that hung on the side of the refrigerator - it was there solely for my benefit - and headed outside. I admit, after a while I forgot that Nicole was there. To be fair, though, I normally forgot that anyone was there unless I saw them in front of me.

I had my headphones on, listening to a taped conversation in Dutch and mumbling parts of it to myself while going from chore after chore. I didn't hear the bell that was rung for meals; I was tossing the last of the hay bales when Mike found me in the big barn and mouthed the word "lunch".

Let me just make something clear real quick. I am aware that my habits do not fall into the broad range of normal. I can also say with a strong certainty that my occasional - okay, frequent - eccentric behaviors developed naturally. As far as I have been told, I was never dropped on my head as a baby. My brothers never choked off my oxygen for an excessive length of time. I never really messed with drugs, so I can't blame them for any of my weird little quirks. Maybe I should have taken some.

I felt self-conscious sitting next to Nicole at the dining room table. Because I was late for lunch, I wasn't allowed a quick shower. Thanks, Dad.

Nicole's casual dress, which showed off some nice hips, held the scent of baby powder. Her long dark hair was shiny, hanging in lazy waves and ringlets. The highlights of her cute oval face were lively green eyes and a playful grin.

Sitting on her left was me: dirty t-shirt with big sweat stains that explained my stench; hair in disarray and decorated with straw; face covered with dust that turned into streaks of grime because I washed hastily. Someone call GQ.

After a lingering and uncomfortable lunch, Nicole had to get home. I went to go fetch her camcorder. Strangely, I saw it on a table in the second-story hallway on the way to my room. I brought it back down to her and mentioned where I found it. She gave a simple explanation of filming other things while I was busy. And then, in a motion to make it obvious to me, Nicole removed the small piece of electrical tape that hid the recording light. It was simple but effective. "You sneaky bitch, you filmed me."

"More than you know - way more," Nicole said mysteriously, and then gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Today was fun. See you at school, sunshine." She was out the screen door, down the porch stairs and halfway to her car before I thought to say goodbye.

*****

By the next weekend, I had made the final revisions to my college application folders and waited for Nicole to come by with copies of the DVD she'd edited together. I hadn't seen it yet and was anxious about how it came out; excited or scared, I couldn't tell which. It was probably both. When she showed up, I thought I'd get a private viewing. Oh no, no. My mom and grandparents were more eager to see it than I was; even my dad came in off the tractor to watch. My fear had an audience. Joy.

The living room TV screen faded from black into a blurry shot while instrumental country music started playing. The camera focused to a panning close-up of items thrown together on my Swedish-flag blanket. On it were translation books, track shoes, work gloves, headphones, track and field medals, a blueprint of an engine I drew, a family photo, Rosetta Stone CD cases, and a few tools. As the camera crept along, it came to a well-drawn sign at the edge of the blanket that read, _'Daniel Rylander, a unique mix'_. In smaller letters underneath that was, _'by Nicole Kramer and the Rylander family'_.

Shit, they were in on it. I sat in the middle of the couch between my grandpa and my girlfriend; he gripped my shoulder and she held my clammy hand while my face heated up. My mom complimented Nicole on the nice intro. Dad even mumbled something pleasant. Grandma was staring at the TV and said over my parents, "I can't hear! Inspärra!" That last word means "shut up". Grandma Hannah didn't pull her punches. My cheeks got warmer.

The first part blurred out and came back in to video clips of me at track and field events. While it first showed me putting ear buds in while warming up out on the field, I heard Grandpa Eli's accented voice dubbed over the video. "I'll never stop being impressed with Daniel." The video switched to me winning a 400-meter sprint. "Once he sets his mind to something, there's no stopping him," his commentary continued. The video then showed me hurling a javelin. "Maybe it comes from all those languages he learned on his own, but he's mature for his age. I have to remind myself that he's still in high school." The video showed me catching my breath after I won a hurdle race, and then it faded to black.

The screen brightened again, showing a long-angle shot of me using a stump in the backyard to chop wood. I was wearing that grungy yellow t-shirt from the weekend before, oblivious of Nicole filming me. My mom's voice was dubbed in then. "I don't know how else to put it," she began in her German accent. "Danny has a passion for many things. He approaches life in a different way than anyone else I know. He's special. Oh, and he's a handsome young man, he doesn't listen to that crazy music, and he isn't one of those... weirdoes. Is that okay to say?"

Hearing my mom say that, I thought my face was going to spontaneously combust. I put my free hand on it to smother the flames.

While my dad and grandpa stifled their laughter, Nicole snuggled closer and whispered, "I'm sorry," although it was clear from her giggly tone that she wasn't. "It was too cute. I had to leave it in."

"Sure you did," I mumbled from behind my palm. "Just so you know... I'm going to destroy you."

"Sounds like fun," she happily retorted.

The scene faded and came back to a wobbly angle, shot from the open passenger window of a moving car. It showed the back of me up ahead as I jogged along a rural road near the ranch. I don't know when Nicole filmed it. I had my headphones on and had no clue there was a car following me. Pete's voice came in over the video. "It's a weird thing, having a little brother who challenges me to do better. It should be the other way around, right? Thing is, Dan doesn't know he's doing it. He's not the lazy-ass type; he doesn't know how." The hell I don't. "He'd work 'til he bled if we didn't stop him. Plus, he's got all this knowledge in his head and he keeps adding more. It's all pretty impressive."

See, the thing is, my family isn't normally that expressive, except maybe for my grandpa. It caught me off-guard and was embarrassing the hell out of me. We'd give each other a simple compliment when they were due, but no one fawned all over each other with weepy praise. Maybe it was because there was a microphone in their faces, or that Nicole coaxed it out of them. I don't know. While it was nice to hear good things being said about me, I hoped it wasn't going to become a habit. I was happy with nods of respect and unspoken appreciation. Getting choked up was not an option.

The next scene was a panning shot between the sheds and the big barn out back. It showed me running up behind the twins and jumping on Joe's broad back. As the three of us horsed around for a minute, my grandma's heavily accented Swedish voice said, "Daniel is a good boy. He is a good worker. He runs and runs. He is very fast." Crap, someone should have written her a script. The video switched over to me and Grandpa working on a tractor. "Daniel tells me many things about other countries," she continued. "He fed me soup when I was sick. I tell him things and he listens. He is an obedient boy." It wasn't Oscar material, but I could tell Grandma Hannah meant it.

Grandma turned to me from her seat on the ottoman near the TV. She was smiling when she said, "That was good, yes? Your colleges will like what I said. I speak the truth; they will know."

"I'm sure they will, Grandma," I replied. "Thank you, it was perfect."

"Inspärra!" my grandpa barked, but couldn't stop himself from grinning. Everyone smiled or chuckled along with him. It cut the emotional tension in half. I think he knew it would, the wise old fart.

The next part of the video was a slower fade-in. It was from when Nicole and I were up in my bedroom and I thought the camcorder was off. A subtitle appeared at the bottom of the screen: _'He doesn't know he's being filmed'_. The lens was pointed straight at me, although some of Nicole's hair, forearm and knee could be seen on the left side of the screen. "Okay, let's try this," she said to me then. "Pick the sport events that you do well, or that you like the best, and tell me about each of 'em. But... you gotta use a different language for each one, okay?"

"Okay, cool. Let me see how good I can do this." It was weird seeing myself and hearing my own voice coming from the TV. I was silently critical of how I sounded and of the expressions I made. I watched myself talking in English about sprinting, and thought it came out alright. I then switched to Swedish to describe the long jump, German for the javelin throw, Norwegian for 300-meter hurdles, and Russian for the 1600-meter run. I stammered a bit using Danish for the high jump, and completely goofed up talking about the shot put in Polish. I think it came out as, "I shove my heavy balls in the air and cry".

I'm glad the video didn't end on that note. It eased into a scene obviously taken from the front porch. In the middle distance were my dad and I walking away from the camera and down the quarter-mile long gravel driveway. I remember he fetched me to come help him tinker with the manure spreader up near the road. Nicole had the shot play in slow motion so it would look poignant. Luckily, the big cart of cow shit wasn't in the shot.

And then I was shocked to hear my dad's voice dubbed in the scene. "I'm a man of few words," he said solemnly, "so it surprises me that one of my boys knows so many. Dan has talents that are wasted on a ranch. He's meant to do more." How the hell did someone get my stoic, tough-as-nails father to say anything resembling sentimental? "I guess you're having me say something because he wouldn't say these things about himself. Well then, here's what I think: any school Dan Rylander goes to should feel proud and lucky to have him, just like his family does. They'd be damn fools not to. That's it."

The screen continued to show the two hazy figures walking off side by side until the camera unfocused and finally went black. I can't say it stunned me that my dad ended with... shit, what do you call that? A harsh challenge? Maybe a thinly-veiled insult? All things considered, I guess it really wasn't a bad way to end the four-minute film. I was proud of how well Nicole put it all together; she did a great job of leaving out my moments of dork-ness... dork-dom, dork-itude, whatever.

I was quite pleased with the application video, even though I felt as awkward as a Mennonite in a strip joint. Most of all, I was relieved that Nicole didn't include Jake or Joe in the final edit. No offense to them; sometimes they're fun as hell.

I later learned that Nicole interviewed the twins, trying to be fair and considerate. She shoulda known better. She said that she sat down with them, and they both seemed serious and sincere. Well of course they did. It wasn't long before Jake was laying the groundwork for the nasty lie that I was legally denied from going anywhere near elementary schools. Joe acted depressed while he told a smooth tale of his brave little brother with late-stage syphilis. Christ.

*****

By about Christmas of that year, I had considerably mellowed out. Not only were all of my applications sent and received, so was my track and field performance video via Coach Iversen. I also had taken the SATs, got respectable scores and mailed those off as well. I wouldn't receive any acceptance or rejection letters until at least mid-spring, so there was no point in stressing for a while. Andrea was home from college for the holidays. I kept in more frequent touch with my extended family. There was snow on the ground. For once, everyone in the family had money for decent Christmas gifts. All was well... almost.

I didn't know what to do about Nicole. In my weird mind, she went from a girlfriend to a situation. That wasn't fair; she was great. She was cool to hang out with, and the sex was fun, but we never really had one of those 'down the road' talks. I was gonna go off to college, she had another year of high school, and then what? She mentioned going to a nearby community college for... something. Man, I sucked as a boyfriend.

The point was that we had no plans. I had no guarantees to offer Nicole, and she never asked for any. I didn't think I loved her, but I didn't know what in the hell love was. By the same token, she never said that she loved me, either. For some reason, that bothered me. I reached a new level of shallow.

*****

It was a couple months later that my dad sat me down and said there wouldn't be much time to visit any of the campuses I was interested in. I gotta tell ya, him talking to me about college surprised the hell out of me. I knew he'd support whatever decision I made, but I had no idea he put much thought into it.

He started trying to explain why, but I stopped him short. I already knew the reasons; school, track, calving, shots and tagging... it was a long list. I didn't really mind not visiting a campus that I was bound to get lost on anyway; the virtual tours online would do. It also meant I'd have more time with Nicole before I left. Fine, I was thinking with my crotch. Guys never stop doing that.

My parents took Andrea to check out her school before her freshman year; I got that; she was their only daughter. But as one of the boys, I felt I should be more independent. It's that idiot macho thing. I told my dad not to worry about it, that I'd be fine. Did I mention that I am a horrible liar? Not 'horrible', as in I do it a lot. I mean 'horrible', as in I simply don't have the social skill of bullshitting. My dad's crooked grin told me he saw through the attempt to make him feel better. I was lying to myself too, and the results were about the same.

The tension had built up, waiting for my college application replies. By then I had a couple of small linguistic scholarships lined up, as well as a respectable fellowship grant from the Department of Education. I was always a lot better expressing myself on paper than in person, and they evidently bought into the crap I wrote in my essays. The first application reply came in early March from one of the universities that I actually wasn't crazy about. I mean, I'm sure it was a good school, but I just applied to it in case my target schools gave me the flowery kiss-off.

Even with the awesome video, I still had my doubts. I wasn't sure what those committees were looking for, and was worried that a multi-lingual hick from the tundra wasn't what they had in mind. So anyway, the first reply was an acceptance letter, which helped my confidence. Grandma Hannah told me to wait until I got replies from every school before I did anything stupid. It sounded a lot nicer in Swedish.

The second reply I got was from the school that was at the top of my list, the University of Minnesota. Their linguistics department was highly ranked and they had strong engineering programs. My sister Andrea had my mom read the letter from the school she wanted to attend - she was too nervous to do it herself - and it turned out good for her. So I waited until just after dinner one night and asked my dad to take a look at mine. He looked a little surprised and asked me if I was sure. I considered asking Grandpa instead, but I thought that might make me look like a dick.

My dad put on his reading glasses and opened the envelope while the whole family stayed seated at the dining room table and waited for the result. Was I nervous? Nah, it was more like a mild freaking out. My fate was on a piece of paper that my dad took his sweet frickin' time looking at. I knew everyone in my family wanted good things for me, but just then it felt like they were watching a car race and waiting for a wreck.

"A gopher - really?" my dad said, glancing my way. "Their mascot is a gopher?"

There were a few chuckles around the table before Jake commented, "Their football team sucks."

I hung my head and mumbled, "I don't care about their football team, and it's not like they make you wear gopher suits on campus. It's just a stupid mascot, who cares?"

"Well, maybe you should," my dad answered, "since you'll be going there." I whipped my head back over to him and saw an uncommon grin on his face as he looked back at me. "You're in, Dan."

Not to sound like a little girl who got cards on Valentine's Day, but I was elated - tickled, even. And that cake had two layers of icing, so to speak. First, one of the professors from the admissions board wrote a very nice note, complimenting the video and saying that my family was "full of character". The rest of the note was full of enthusiasm, which raised my spirits even higher.

The second layer of icing was a statement that told of a possible athletic scholarship, contingent on my senior results. The note went on to wish me luck at my upcoming invitational meet, and my coach would be contacted. More pressure I didn't need, but I couldn't bitch about a good thing.

*****

Well, that 'good thing' came to pass just over a month later in April. Crap, I couldn't have imagined a bigger mess. On the bus ride over to another high school for a big meet, Coach Iversen told me that a college scout or two would be there to watch me and a couple other kids. I think I actually felt the color drain from my face. He put some extra bottles of water in my gym bag and told me I wasn't allowed to get anywhere near his ice chest. Yep, one bad incident in my freshman year and he never forgot it.

Except for Grandma, Pete, and his wife Lori, the family made the drive and arrived at the meet early to get bleacher seats down front. They saved a space for Nicole, who showed up soon after. Eventually, I blocked out the spectators and fell back into routine: ear buds in while I stretched between events, and only paid attention to my own times or distances. And no, I didn't throw up, thank you very much.

I noticed that I was putting up some pretty strong numbers, easily good enough to get me invited to district or regionals again. Hey, fine by me - I had a university to impress. On my second long jump attempt, I beat the good distance that some competitive jerk had just made. His name was Devin something-or-other from who-gives-a-shit high school. His last jump wasn't that great, while I beat my second jump by a couple inches.

At one point, my coach said that he was the other kid the scouts were checking out. I think Devin kept trying to intimidate me, giving dirty looks and generally tried to perfect his stare of doom. I said "I think" because I'd just go into a short 'lingo fog' and forget about him.

As fate would have it, I was lined up next to Devin for the 400-meter sprint. He mumbled something to me before the gun, but I ignored him. I started off the block stronger. He caught up and just edged past me, but faded just as quickly. I beat him by a stride.

I'll admit it, for that race I wasn't just focused on pushing my limits to reach the line; I wanted to beat that prick. He'd spent the whole meet either complaining about something, or strutting like a mouthy rooster when he did well. Then again, by the time I crossed the finish line I didn't give a hot poop about him or his ego.

Just as I was meandering around trying to catch my breath after the race, Devin reminded me he was there. He got my attention by cussing and accusing me of jumping the gun. We approached each other; he kept saying I cheated, which didn't go over too well with me. I was taught that a cheater or someone who breaks their word is scum, pure and simple. So, yeah, I was offended. I should have walked away and left him with his wounded pride. I guess my pride got the best of me, too.

After that, things went downhill fast. Devin yelled something stupid in my face. I replied with something like, "It's not my fault that the only view you've had today is my butt, and you're starting to like it". I might have said it in German, I can't remember. Either way, he didn't take it too well and shoved me. I stepped right back to my spot and impulsively head-butted him in the face.

My dad always told me to defend myself if I needed to. Grandpa Eli always told me there was no such thing as a fair fight. And for years, my brothers physically applied both of those theories on me. I was no brawler like the twins were, but I knew a few simple, effective moves that didn't need much skill. I think that's part of the little brother's credo: kick 'em in the nuts and run like hell.

Devin staggered back with his hands pressed to his nose, and the blood started running down his face. A twinge of guilt hit me, but I didn't have time to dwell on it. Someone slammed into me from behind. I stumbled and fell onto the track; it knocked some the wind out of my sail. The crowd was making a lot of noise and there were people yelling around me. Confused, I rolled to one side and saw one of Devin's teammates standing near my feet with a menacing look on his pimply face.

As soon as my brain registered the guy looming over me, someone else plowed into him from the side like a wrecking ball. I mean, damn, that hit made me flinch. The next thing I knew, my brother Joe was over me and yanked me to my feet. I looked to my right and saw Jake standing near the poor kid he'd just rammed into the grass. The twins both turned to deal with anyone else who came near us.

Just to point this out, I was in good shape but otherwise just your average six-foot, 170-pound guy. Both Jake and Joe had two inches and at least forty pounds of bulk on me. They played mostly as linebackers in high school football, and smiled at all the flags thrown at them.

Coaches and other athletes stepped in, holding back anyone who wanted in on the action. Over the noise and chaos, I saw Devin standing a little ways off; blood-stained, gesturing wildly and yelling profanities at me while some guy from a different school held him back. Near them was Mr. Pimple, the wrecking ball victim; he was still crumpled on the grass and pretty much unconscious.

Joe took exception to Devin's trash talk and headed that way. The intervening kid put his hand out to stop Joe, and got tossed aside like a broken toy for his good intentions. Devin immediately shut up and backed away. I grabbed Joe from behind to stop him. Coach Iversen was yelling at Jake to get off the field. I felt like I was at an outdoor hockey match.

My dad was an old friend of my coach, and helped him separate the Tioga athletes from the other teams. I stood quietly while the guys around me talked about what happened. I saw my mom publicly chewing out the twins in front of the bleachers. I was kind of torn how I felt about what they did; it felt good having Jake and Joe backing me up, although they probably overdid it a little. Yeah, a little - like driving in a nail with a sledge hammer.

It wouldn't have been as bad if people hadn't stepped in. As it was, Devin probably had a broken nose, a few other kids were scuffed up, and that pimply dude had to be helped off the field; best guess was broken ribs and whiplash. I started to worry about being arrested.

We were herded back to the bus by my stoic father while Coach Iversen talked to a few different people. The ride back home was subdued; with the mood that Coach was in, nobody wanted to draw his attention. My parents and Grandpa pulled up near the bus in our school parking lot, then got out and waited. They all wore expressions that weren't exactly heartwarming. Coach walked me over to my family and they had a discussion as if I wasn't there. Considering the situation, I wished I wasn't.

Surprisingly, they weren't openly planning my demise. My family had two concerns: one was about any charges against the twins, and the other was how the fight affected the college scout's assessment. Oh shit, I'd forgotten about that. Never mind a possible scholarship; I started wondering if the U of M was still going to let me attend. 'Wondering' is my nice term for 'shitting a brick'.

My grandpa, along with my dad and coach, assured me that I wasn't in trouble; everyone saw Devin start the whole thing. Coach had spoken to the pimply kid's dad, who agreed not to press charges if Jake and Joe paid any medical bills. Everyone thought that was more than fair, except for the twins when they found out later that day. And as for the scout, I guess he was an understanding guy. He told my coach that he was going to "ignore the brawl and mainly focus on the stats". He also joked about wishing he had the twins on their football team.

*****

Just to keep it simple, regular track season ended and I got to go to the district meet because of my numbers in three events. I did good enough in two events there - 400-meter dash and discus - to get me to regional. At that meet, I did well enough in both to qualify me for state championships.

My school tried to make a buzz about it; they'd celebrate any damn thing. So I was in the school paper again. Luckily, my ex-windbag Amber wasn't a reporter anymore (she'd moved on to cheerleading), so someone else asked me stupid questions while Nicole blinded me with her camera.

On the day before the state championship meet, my buddies Zach and Billy gave me a gift while we ate lunch in the cafeteria. I hadn't expected anything from them, especially some fancy box with a ribbon; we'd always had an informal friendship. Inside was a discus made out of clay or something, with words painted on it that said, 'official Tioga discus'. It looked pretty cool. Just after a group of kids had gathered around, Billy pointed out that it was a sculpted cow patty.

I'll keep the state meet simple. It was held down in Bismarck. I had to ride on the bus; I didn't see why I had to, as my whole family was following behind us. The stands were full; I got nervous. No, I didn't puke. Icelandic was playing on my headphones, and I got a good idea of its morphology. I came in second for both of my events; I didn't really care by then. I wanted to skip the award ceremony, but wasn't allowed to. I was asked for an interview... no frickin' way. I got out of the stadium as soon as I could, and then my whole family went and blew some money in the 'big city'.

For me, the best part of that day was when the twins and I found a Scandinavian gift shop. We walked out of there wearing Viking helmets and _'May the Norse be with you'_ t-shirts. We didn't care that we looked like jackasses. Mom did, though. When we all went to a nice restaurant for dinner, she wanted to sit at a different table. Joe's girlfriend was embarrassed. Nicole laughed at us. Pete's wife Lori took pictures. Dad ordered the helmets off when we sat down. Andrea put mine on when we left.

I was ordered to attend my own graduation. It was long and boring and I looked stupid in that hat. When we all got back home, Dad grabbed a couple beers and had me join him out on the front porch. We sat there on the steps in silence, sipped at our bottles, and enjoyed the quiet. After a while, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Good job, Dan." Then he got up and went inside. That was my dad.

*****

Finally, I was going back to Sweden. The ten of us piled into three cars jammed with luggage and took off. Our travel plan was from Williston, N.D. to Minneapolis to Paris, and then on to Gothenburg. There wasn't enough layover time in Minneapolis to go check out the campus; disappointing, but no big deal. On the flight to Paris, my mom asked if I knew any French. Besides sort of agreeing with Jake's opinion that "French is for fags", I always felt that it was like talking with noodles in my mouth. So no thanks.

We'd left the ranch in the morning and landed in Gothenburg the following afternoon. Other than some initial jet-lag, we were all excited to be there. Grandma hadn't been back to her homeland or seen her other son (in person) for decades, so she was especially thrilled. Uncle Lars and my cousin Axel met us at the airport and helped us get all our bags to the hotel where we had reservations. I never went wandering around town alone, so I didn't have to worry about getting lost.

We were there five days, and didn't waste a minute. During that time, I was given the chance to really cement some contacts for when I became a translator after college. I could've almost called the vacation a business trip, except that I had a blast and never had to wear a tie.

When a bunch of us took a train down to Lund to visit my cousin Viktor, he took me on a tour of the huge facility where he worked. He and one of his bosses talked to me about languages and some of their industrial products. Some of the stuff they were working on was awesome; I asked if they were hiring.

The next day I met Aunt Maren's brother, Noah. I think I mentioned before that he was an architect and project manager for an international contracting firm. He eventually asked me to translate a technical paragraph from Swedish to English and German. I did that, and then wrote and said it in Icelandic, Norwegian, Dutch, Danish, Russian and Polish. I wasn't too good with Czech yet, so I didn't try it. Noah asked when I'd be available to sign on as an independent translator. I wasn't ready for the offer.

The day before we had to leave, Uncle Lars showed us around the Volvo factory where he worked. We got to test drive the latest XC-60; Lars told us he could get any of us a big discount for any model back in the states. My uncle had mentioned me to some other bigwigs there, and they invited us for a fika (literally coffee, but it generally means to take a break with drinks and pastries). They asked about my certifications and other fluencies. I asked if the XC-60 came in bright blue.

Three days later, we were all catching up on chores the cousins couldn't keep up with. Their bunk house needed work, a field needed haying, herds needed to be moved, all that shit. In about a week, Andrea would be heading back to NDSU and I'd be starting my first semester at U-Minn. I had my class schedule, a dorm room with a stranger, and a campus map I studied often. Any thoughts about that stuff were secondary until the ranch was in good shape again. I honestly didn't care about the ranch; I cared about my family, and they cared about it. I'm sure there's a psychological term for that.

*****

So anyway, it was four days after the family vacation when we got bad news. I mean bad. The only people at the house were my mom and grandma. Pete, Jake, Joe and the cousins were out herding in a back pasture. Lori and Andrea were shopping over in Williston. Grandpa went to the hardware store in town. Dad and I were on foot out in a field about a half mile away from the house, fixing some fencing. I think fate waited until we were all scattered to drop a bomb.

Dad's cell phone rang; as soon as he answered, I could hear Mom shouting something in German. Dad understood enough because his face went pale and his eyes widened. While Mom was still talking, he looked at me and said, "It's my m - your grandmother. Go, Dan. _Run_!"

Something was wrong with Grandma Hannah, Mom was freaking out, and Dad knew I'd get back to the house twice as fast as he would. I didn't wait for him or even look back. I ran harder and faster than I did at the state championships. I refused the worst, shutting that thought out.

Grandma had slaps for every occasion. A gentle slap to the cheek with a kiss was given at happy events, like Pete's wedding. Two firm palms to the chest were given as a sign of sympathy, like she gave to my dad when one of the dogs died. She gave harder slaps to the shoulder if one of us did or said something funny, but only to the men. Full-on smacks to an arm or back were for when one of us was out of line. Grandma sure as hell got a workout over the years.

I couldn't handle the thought of not getting slapped again. I bet my brothers would've offered to fill in.

She'd collapsed in the kitchen. I rudely bumped Mom out of the way to take a look. Grandma Hannah was breathing, but didn't react when I yelled at her. She was already on her side, so I put some dishrags under her head. Mom was franticly asking me questions, like I knew what the hell happened.

I snatched the phone out of my mom's hand and dialed 911. The operator said a woman (Mom) had already called and help was on the way. I didn't try to calm my mom down, I let Dad handle it when he came busting in. With how I sometimes bluntly react, I probably would've ended up cussing at her.

The ambulance showed up not long after, but not quick enough for my liking. Dad went with Grandma to the Tioga Medical Center; I put Mom in my truck and followed. She'd calmed down enough to make other calls to the rest of the family. We were all pacing around the little seating area when a doctor came out. I hated his calm expression, and wanted to give him a different one.

Grandma Hannah had a massive stroke. The center wasn't anywhere near equipped to handle it, so they immediately called for a life-flight to the nearest hospital that dealt with neurological issues. Yeah, that nearest hospital was in Billings, Montana, a five-hour drive west. Living rurally has its advantages, but not when serous shit happens.

While we waited for the helicopter to land at the pad out back, the doc said Grandma's stroke was most likely of the brainstem variety. My dad asked what the hell that meant, and the doc started jabbering technical lingo. Jake had just started dating one of the nurses at the center, so we went to her to get some straight answers. We got the info we needed, but we didn't like it.

After the chopper came and flew Grandma off, we all went back home and started packing. Well, everyone but Andrea and me; we were already packed for college. We made it to Billings in record time, although Grandma had already been admitted a couple hours before we got there. It sucked seeing my grandma in a bed with a respirator, surrounded by machinery. Dad stood next to the bed holding his mother's hand, as close to crying as I'd ever seen him.

All of us got motel rooms, except for Grandpa; he wasn't leaving his wife's side. A day and a half later, a surgeon operated on Grandma's brain. We were told that recovery would be slow, and the staff wouldn't be able to tell what kind of shape she'd be in for a while. I wanted to punch someone.

We had a family meeting, meaning that Dad told us what we were gonna do. Grandpa was going to rent an apartment nearby. The rest of us would take turns making the long drive out in small groups to visit; we still had a ranch to run. I hated that he was so logical. When he excluded Andrea and me, saying we had to get on to college... man, my sister went off. She was skipping the semester, and that was it. I was selfishly glad she was gonna be around for a while longer. Andrea had a mellowing presence.

I wasn't going, either. During the long drive to Billings, I'd researched a few things on my new phone and did some math. Health insurance was going to cover only a little bit, and the rest was on us. And when I say 'the rest', I mean a shit-ton of money. I pulled my parents aside and demanded they use whatever they'd saved up in my name. It was an easy decision for me.

College could wait; I had no problem putting it off, and my family needed money. Honestly, the thought of going to a big college - surrounded by thousands of strangers - intimidated me. To justify my anxiety, I doubted any class would've helped me learn languages any faster than I was doing on my own. Plus, paying big money for a degree didn't make much sense at the time.

More importantly right then, I didn't want to be away from my family when I thought they really needed me. I told my parents I'd take the offer that Aunt Maren's brother, Noah, made for translation work; I'd do that in the evenings after I helped around the ranch. It was extra income. Dad wanted to argue, but he couldn't deny that it made sense.

Grandma Hannah survived the surgery, but we could tell early on that the stroke did a lot of damage. Her left side was pretty much shot, the only noise she made was uncommon grunts, and sometimes she didn't recognize us. Yeah, she was alive, but the result was a morale crusher.

*****

Uncle Lars and his son Axel came all the way out to visit Grandma and us. My uncle stayed in Billings with Grandpa while Axel came to the ranch. He got a taste of our lifestyle and called us masochists. My relatives had to go back home after nine days, but Axel and I bonded a little more while he was at our place. We both promised to keep in touch more often, and we actually did.

Speaking of keeping in touch, I didn't have much time to do that with Nicole. I wasn't off at college, but I was busy as hell at home. Noah had a list of translation projects for his work. Anyway, Nicole and I talked on the phone when we could and got together when neither of us was busy. She had school and a part-time job, and my time was taken with chores, translation, and long drives to visit my grandma. It was all pretty depressing. I didn't even worry about getting laid anymore.

As for the work Noah had for me, it was an open-ended contract for decent pay. Like I said, he gave me a list of forms and information in various fields - anything from permit documents to construction supply orders. Having a choice was nice, but some of the projects included languages I didn't know. Two of 'em were for proposed bids in Finland. I told myself that someday I'd learn that language, too.

Grandma was in the ICU for over four weeks. She hadn't progressed at all, but her doctor said her health was stable enough that she could begin acute rehab. The clinic in Tioga qualified, so we were able to have her flown back home. I'm going to sound like an ass for saying this, but I kinda wish Grandpa hadn't brought her back. For his sake it was great, but I had a lot more chances to see what horrible shape she was in... what she'd been reduced to. If Grandma was somehow able to ask for me to put her out of her misery, I would've.

With everyone back home, I had more time for translation work. I asked my cousin Vik if his company would try me out for one small document. If they were pleased with my work, they might put me in their pool of freelance translators. I also mentioned that I'd begun taking online mechanical engineering courses, and would have at least one certificate soon. It helped; they gave me a shot.

Things went on like that for a while. Nicole and I kept drifting apart, and there was no way to fix it. I visited Grandma often; every time that I drove home after seeing her, I felt sick to my stomach. My dad said I should do less around the ranch because of my other work, but I still put in a few hours every day.

Mom told me to start saving my translation money; beef prices were up, and returns from the fracking were still coming in. Everyone could slowly start rebuilding their savings. I was pleased to hear it for my family's sake, although I knew my cut would have to pile up for a long time for me to go to college. By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I figured, _screw it_ ; I was doing fairly well without a degree.

*****

Sometime around two in the morning of New Year's Day, my brother Joe died. He was coming back from his girlfriend's place up in McGregor when his car went off the road. He and his girlfriend Jenny had an argument, so he left pissed off. He'd been drinking, and he wasn't wearing his seatbelt. The car rolled four times; Joe was thrown from it at some point. He bled out in the snow. We were told that he was most likely unconscious from his head wounds and never felt anything, but we'll never really know.

Jake was inconsolable; Pete and I had to tackle him a couple times. Mom was a mess, too, but Dad kept her calm. I think sedatives were involved. Jenny kept blaming herself. Grandma was told that Joe died, but she didn't remember who he was. Nicole was at the funeral; I thanked her for coming and she offered some kind words, but there wasn't much else for us to say.

Joe was one of the few people who I trusted without thought, who had my back no matter what. He was gone. I can't say I looked up to him, but I admired him... relied on him. Joe didn't care about what people thought, and he was fearless. He made me laugh, he ticked me off. He was my brother.

I couldn't go near Joe's bedroom. I couldn't look at anything around the ranch without a memory of him popping into my head. I remember cussing him as I poured dirt on his casket; he would've smiled.

*****

Andrea went back to school later in January, so she missed the good news that finally came our way. Lori told us that she was pregnant. On Valentine's Day, Jake proposed to his girlfriend. With a speech therapist's help, Grandma Hannah was able to say the word "you" and point at people. Grandpa Eli hadn't smiled in a long time until then; that crooked grin was good to see. It was weird how three little words - _baby, yes,_ and _you_ \- turned things around for a while.

A couple months later, I had another nice surprise. Uncle Lars emailed me with a tentative offer from his company's marketing department. Vik and Noah apparently passed along some good reviews of my work. I take pride in what I do; I'm concise, I translate fast, and my rates per word or by the hour were below current averages. I sucked at a lot of other things, so I had to take satisfaction in one of the things I was good at.

The Volvo folks wanted to start me with a couple small pamphlet jobs in various languages; if all went well, they'd agree to be a long-term client. There were three conditions, though. First, they wanted to fly me out to meet with them beforehand. Interviews weren't my thing; hopefully my work would do most of the talking. Secondly, I needed to give proof of language certificates. No problem; I would've had one for Nordic runes (symbols with various meanings) if there was a test for it. No, seriously. Third, for taxes and legalities, I needed to have some sort of business license. Hello, panic.

Needless to say, I had no clue what to do. Well, I had one idea: call Andrea. She was in accounting, and her boyfriend was a business major. I'd met her boyfriend, Scott, a couple times. He'd been invited to Thanksgiving dinner and made the necessary good first impression, so my brothers let him live. He made the long drive back out from Fargo to be with Andrea for Christmas and New Year's... and Joe's funeral. He was a nice guy, and was as smart as my sister. I needed all the brains I could enlist.

Luckily, there was time to figure stuff out and do things bit by bit. Andrea told me how to keep my own records, and Scott helped with permits and acquiring a sole proprietorship. He asked me if a few of his college buddies could get a little translation help, and insisted I charge a fee. I joined the ATA (American Translators Association), which wasn't cheap, and passed their certification tests as well.

Some stranger from one of the translator websites I'd registered with emailed me; she said American polyglots like me were pretty rare. Polyglot... I knew the term, but the word itself sounded ugly. She asked if I'd signed up to one of their websites. A couple hours later, I was part of a three-way conversation on Skype with two other polyglots - an older Russian guy in Novgorod, and a cute Danish woman from Copenhagen. Switching languages, we talked about cars and hockey.

Stuff like that was a quick way to keep my languages fresh and my correspondence list short. Some of the people I used to talk with were weird anyway. One guy I used to Skype with sometimes had make-up on. Not like he was into Goth or something; I mean like feminine cosmetics. Another guy - I think he was German - had a pot-bellied pig, and was affectionate with it... The kind of affection that made me squirm, kinda like that poor pig was doing.

*****

Grandma caught pneumonia again in mid-May, and passed away five days later. Nine months had gone by since she had the stroke. Nine months of slow decline - expensive, heart-breaking, helpless decline. For Grandpa Eli, it was nine months of life-draining hell. From then on we treated him like fragile goods, the opposite of what he used to be.

Tioga is a small town, so word of Grandma's death got around quick. Nicole called. I was glad to talk to her again, even though time and circumstance had messed everything up between us. She gave her sympathies; I muttered a thank you and moved on. She told me she was going to the state college in Williston after she graduated in a couple weeks. I never told her this, but sometimes I'd watch that video she made of me just to hear her voice. It wasn't tinged with regret then.

Lars, Maren, and Vik flew in for the visitation and funeral. My uncle had hugs for everyone. That was his way. He also had a plane ticket for me, to return to Sweden with him and meet his marketing people. Vik invited me down to Lund to meet with his bosses at Alfa Laval again, as well as attend his wedding. He'd sent a photo in an email of his fiancée. I asked if she had a sister. Or a cousin... or a distant relative with poor self-esteem and a drinking problem; I hadn't gotten any in a while.

*****

I told Dad that after I did the necessary ass-kissing with the Volvo and Alfa Laval people, I was going to use my translation money and travel a bit. I needed to get away for a while, and I could work from my laptop. I'm not sure if he understood why, but he nodded anyway.

Taking a break from Rylander Ranch was just what I needed. The weight of it fell away as that first plane took off. I was detailed about my travel plans, even down to walking routes for each city I was in. I had folded maps and one on my laptop, both marked for routes. I had GPS in my phone, and Mom bought me an extra one just to be safe. I didn't order any plane or train tickets in advance; I didn't want the pressure of time breathing down my neck. That made me sound like a thin-skinned sissy.

Uncle Lars was a great host as always. His daughters Molly and Alice had grown like weeds since I saw them last. I hung out with Axel a fair bit and met his friends. At the Volvo offices, I sat down with two marketing execs and talked with them while I translated a short document from Swedish into English, German and Russian. I thanked them for the fika; they offered me a small contract to start.

All of the Sweden Rylanders and I took a train down to Lund for Vik's wedding. I borrowed one of Axel's suits for it since I didn't pack mine. Yeah, I forgot. It was a nice ceremony, I guess. At the outdoor reception, I met an outgoing gal named Elsa who _really_ liked my American accent. The more she drank, the flirtier she got. I liked the attention, but I finally had to walk away. I was at my cousin's wedding, and I didn't want to embarrass myself or him.

Not far away, Axel was laughing at me. I wandered over by him and said in Swedish, "Shut up."

"Did she scare you off? Go on, Dan, have some backbone. She's still staring at you."

I didn't look. "She was starting to cause a scene. I had to stop her from sitting on my lap."

Axel laughed again. "Yeah, I saw. You know, Viktor's house is only a half kilometer from here. Here, I have the keys. I won't get there until late, I promise."

Since Vik was taking off for his honeymoon after the reception, he invited me to stay at his place. I was supposed to meet with the Alfa Laval folks again the next day. Axel said he'd take me there in Vik's car, and then drive me over to Copenhagen the following morning.

I hesitated. "I don't know, Ax..."

"What's the problem? She's pretty, she's clearly interested, and I don't see a date looking for her."

"Yeah, but... Look, she's older than me. I've only been with high school girls, and not recently, okay?"

"Ah," he replied, nodding, "she intimidated you. Don't worry so much. Sex is like... Let me think of a comparison you'll relate to. Sex is like roping cattle. No, wait..."

"Yeah, very funny," I grumbled.

Oh, wait. Sex is like finding your way home..." He started laughing again.

"You're such an asshole. I shouldn't have told you anything."

Axel casually draped one arm across my shoulders. "Dan, it's a natural act... or unnatural, depending on your preferences. If there are things you don't know, I'm sure she'd show you. Think of it as a language; you're spectacular with those."

"I don't think there'd be much talking."

He shrugged. "A moan is a sort of communication, and it can mean so many different things. Go learn."

So I did. Axel gave me the keys and explained the simple route to Vik's house. Elsa and I found it easily enough, and we went directly to the nearest bedroom. Man, she was fun. Axel was cooking breakfast the next morning when she and I came out. Elsa didn't stay for a meal; she gave me a kiss and left.

I was a little nervous without Vik being at the meeting I had with his boss and the guy I'd been sending my finished work to, but they were cool. I updated them on my certificate status, and mentioned my work with Volvo and Skanska (the company Noah worked for). They, in turn, said they'd send me a larger contract to consider. Well, okay then.

My travel plans were pretty simple: find a cheap room with Wi-Fi (not a hostel), look around and talk the local language (without bothering anyone), take some pictures, and make sure I didn't get lost (very often). I'd done research beforehand; I wasn't just gonna go wandering around like a drunken tourist. Hotels, train stations, and points of interest were marked on my map. My real focus was to soak up the language spoken around me, and - this was the hard part - interact.

So anyway, I started in Copenhagen. A couple days later, I caught a cheap one-way flight to Hamburg, Germany. The train ride from there to Berlin was nice. A few days later, I was on another train to Poznan, Poland. Yet another train (see the theme here?) brought me to Warsaw. From there, I went to Minsk (that's in Belarus - hardly anyone knows that country exists).

This is going too slow. I'll speed it up.

Train from Minsk to Moscow; flight from Moscow to St. Petersburg; train from there to Helsinki, Finland; flight from Helsinki to Stockholm. Uncle Lars picked me up there and drove me back to Gothenburg. After a couple more days at his house, I took a train up to Oslo, Norway. Then I flew to Reykjavik, Iceland. And then, finally, I took a three-stop flight back home. Whew.

I met people from other cultures, didn't speak English for weeks, ate some exotic food, and saw some amazing architecture and landscapes. Then I went back to North Dakota. Yeah.

I stayed anywhere from one to three days at each of those cities, and was gone for a total of just over a month. I spent less than expected on travel, and found cheap deals on souvenirs and t-shirts... except in the Scandinavian countries - they cost out the ass. A fair amount of translation work got done during those train rides and hotel stays. I talked with a lot more people than I thought I would, but I honestly kinda forced myself to do that sometimes.

Don't get me wrong, I missed home... right up until I got there.

*****

Frustration built up pretty quick back at the ranch. I was emailing Andrea and Scott at least daily on how to organize my business records, and my internet and phone connection way out there wasn't the best. I knew I should get my own website, but didn't know a thing about it.

I felt confined, I guess. When I wasn't fixing something, I was doing stuff for my languages. I liked doing both, but my range of choices was limited. I mean, that's all there was. When I had time, I ran. That was my escape.

When I said 'language stuff', I should list it real quick. I translated for my three clients. I studied the material that some of my work referred to. I made notes in my language books. I kept up with online conversations. I wrote to foreign correspondents. I listened to language CDs. I watched foreign films. I picked up small translation jobs. I updated my each of my computer language programs. I revised my post-it notes and tried to keep all my shit organized.

That last one was eating my time and interfering with everything else. I'd come in achy and sweaty and get to it. So, yeah, frustrated is a good word.

*****

Near the end of that summer, I had an unexpected conversation. I was replacing a belt in my dad's truck, cussing at it on a regular basis. Grandpa and Dad came around from the back of the house and stared at me for a few seconds. "Sorry," I said. "I just got a little angry, that's all. I'll keep it down."

Dad glanced at Grandpa with a solemn expression. "I think you're right."

Grandpa nodded while he kept looking at me.

I didn't know what they were doing, and I didn't care at the time. "Uh, thanks for checking on me, but I'm gonna get back to work here. I'm almost done."

"Take a break for a minute, Daniel," Grandpa said. "We need to speak with you."

I suddenly felt like I did something wrong. Other than calling Dad's truck a piece of shit, I couldn't think of anything. I wiped the sweat off my face and stepped closer. "What's going on?"

"It's time for things to change," Grandpa sighed. "You're only twenty years old, but you've been a man for some time now." That statement primed the pump for something, but I wasn't sure what.

"You should move on," my dad stated, getting straight to the point.

"Wait, what do you mean, move on? Are you kicking me out?"

Grandpa answered. "No, not like you think. More like... you're being released."

"What, now I'm fired from the family? What the hell, Grandpa?" Whatever they were trying to say, they were doing a shitty job of it. I guess my bad mood didn't help.

"Dan," Dad tried again, "you're miserable here, and you're running yourself ragged. Your mother worries about you all the time. You work like a dog, and then you go upstairs to your computer and your books. Sometimes you forget to come down for supper. You're more help than you know, but I hate seeing you like this. You can't keep doing both. I've been selfish for too long."

"This is how I see it," Grandpa tagged back in. It was like a two-on-one match. "I think you'd be satisfied working the ranch with us, but only if there was nothing else for you. You have a talent for fixing things, and that's very helpful, here or anywhere. But your true gift is languages, Daniel, and it's your passion. Anything else should be a hobby. You'll always have a place here, but this land isn't your destiny. You weren't meant for this."

"So... are you telling me to go, or suggesting that I should?"

Dad scowled at me. "You're old enough to make your own choices, but I don't want you feeling obliged."

"It'll be tougher without you," Grandpa added, "but we can manage. I plan on selling off ten percent of the headcount anyway, so that'll lighten the load."

They were offering me freedom, and I had no idea what to do with it. "Then what do - where am I supposed to go? Should I rent a place near town or something?"

Dad shook his head. "Of all you kids, I never worried much about you or Pete. You'd be doing me a big favor if you moved closer to your sister. I'd feel better if she had family near. She would, too."

"Dad, Andrea's not gonna be there forever. She's only got like three semesters left."

"She might get a job in Fargo. Maybe she'll settle down with her boyfriend; he's from there. And what if he doesn't treat her right? Someone has to be there to set that fella straight."

I wasn't going to argue with him. "Okay, fine, I'll leave. What does Mom think?"

Dad shrugged. "We'll find out when we tell her."

*****

Two months later, I was in my first apartment. My place was less than three blocks from the house that Andrea and her roommate rented. She was thrilled to have me there, and proud of her "entrepreneur brother". My place was nothing fancy; a small two-bedroom that faced the complex's swimming pool. It was clean, affordable, and the neighbors were fairly quiet. Like a dork, I was mostly excited about the covered parking.

Fargo was over twice as big as Bismarck, so I just focused on learning the necessary routes: the way to Andrea's, the nearest grocery store, and, if I forgot my GPS, how to find my way home if I took a long jog. Eventually, I started making trips to the nearby NDSU campus as well, but just to run on their track when it wasn't covered with snow.

Speaking of snow, it seemed that it didn't matter where I was that it had an effect on me. I was a young guy out on my own, working from home... apartment, whatever. My self-motivation was strong; I liked money, and I loved languages. But when snow wasn't falling, I was more easily distracted. By that, I mean porn. Even with a thin snow layer and a crappy view, though, I calmed down and focused more. My thoughts settled, and new languages made more sense. I was content. Whatever the opposite of seasonal affective disorder is, I've always had it.

Andrea and Scott were a big help to my work in many ways. My sister organized my spare bedroom to be my office, and programmed my phone for reminders. Scott helped me set up a basic business plan, and introduced me to a friend of his who designed web pages.

Andrea also made me do something that I wasn't entirely comfortable with. Using Nicole's idea from a few years back, she had Scott record us while she asked questions and made me answer in different languages. Then she posted it on YouTube. I called Andrea a bitch before I could stop myself. Then again, she didn't tell me she was gonna do that.

"It's more exposure," she said. Maybe so, but I don't like surprises. Scott pointed out that there were nice comments for the video. I didn't have much of a reason left to be angry, not that I didn't try.

My sister and her boyfriend helped me in one more big way. They gave me pointers to get the necessary insurance and 401k for my 'business', and double-checked my big schedule boards. I'll explain that.

Living on my own, I needed to make sure I didn't forget anything. I had a daily reminder board with time brackets down one side. I had things listed like: hygiene, major client translation, research, side project, Skype, emails, stuff like that. The other board was weekly, telling me to do laundry, call home, buy food, watch a foreign film, and clean my place. I didn't really _need_ the boards, but... okay, yes I did.

My apartment was bare, but I wasn't trying to impress anyone. I bought cheap stuff for the basic needs. I bet most dorm rooms looked better than my place. The only decorating I did do was replacing all my little post-it notes with Nordic runes on good cardboard. Yeah, individual runes are vague, but I only needed simple signs. They looked cool, too; I made bigger ones, framed 'em and hung 'em out in the living room. Yep, I'm a shameless Scandinavian dork.

In the two-plus years I was there in Fargo, I didn't socialize much. I jogged and did sprint runs. I hooked up a few times with college girls. I met with a professor and his language class a few times after Andrea gave him my business card. I finished my online mechanical engineering certificate, and got another one in translation. I was able to secure a contract with a U.S.-based manufacturing company who worked globally. Financially, I was comfortable; my share of fracking profits went into an account I didn't touch. I was doing alright - kinda lonely, but alright.

Outside of my little world, there were a few major events. Jake married Megan and moved her onto the ranch; the wedding was fun as hell. Pete and Lori had a boy and named him Josef; thirteen months later, they had a girl, Paula. After Scott graduated, he proposed to Andrea; they moved in together after she got her accounting degree and they both found decent jobs in Fargo.

*****

Noah emailed me on a snowy March day. His note said that Skanska had signed deals for two major projects in Finland; they'd start as early as the following January. He asked if I had any fluency in their language. That email had me mentally preparing to leave Fargo. I replied, saying I wasn't fluent in Finnish yet, but I would be by New Year's. I hadn't been that excited in a while.

Naturally, a big help to learn a language is to be around those that speak it. I had no intention of flying off to Helsinki for half a year; I wasn't crazy about the place when I visited. I did internet searches for communities in the states that still spoke Finnish. The place that kept coming up was Hancock, Michigan, in the Upper Peninsula. Not knowing shit about the U.P., I looked up everything I could find about it.

I used google maps and YouTube videos to get an idea about that isolated place. First of all, the whole region is beautiful - forests, rolling hills, beaches, a couple mountains, you name it. The area was about the opposite of North Dakota. Even better was the weather, at least for me; lots of snow and mild summers were appealing. I wondered why everyone wasn't living up there.

No offense to Fargo - nice town, but it was a bit big for my liking. Somewhere between living in a cave and living in a city where I could get lost pretty quick was my comfort zone. So, it meant a small town. Not Tioga small, but no place big enough to have more than one Walmart.

A big bonus of my job was that it allowed me to live wherever I wanted, as long as there was high-speed internet. So that was it, I was moving there. I was gonna be a transplant yooper.

*****

I told my mom about my plans. Like most moms, she didn't want her boy moving even further away.

"The drive would only take half a day. It's not a big deal." We spoke in German.

"Do you mean leaving at dawn and getting here by lunch? The drive from Fargo already takes nearly eight hours already, doesn't it?"

My mom is actually very smart, but sometimes... "No, I mean half of a full day."

"Twelve hours? That's too far, Danny."

"Well, thirteen if I do the speed limit, but really, that's okay. It'd be expensive to fly there, and it would only save me a few hours. Besides, Mom, I only get back to the ranch a couple times a year."

"And you should come home more often."

Sigh. "Anyway, I'm gonna head out that way next week to look around. I mean Michigan, not home."

"If your mind is made on this, there's no stopping you. Remember to take your GPS. And trade in that old truck. I know you can fix most things, but what if it broke down in the middle of nowhere? Get a new car, one with a little computer screen like I have. The navigation on mine is nice."

She had a point. My Chevy was getting older, and had a shitload of miles on it. "Okay; I'll call Uncle Lars and ask him to tell whatever Volvo dealer I find to cut me a deal."

"Oh, that's a good idea. And also, think about finding a nice girl. I worry about you being lonely."

"Mom, I don't know anybody out there. Hell, I hardly know anyone _here_ , and I've been here a while."

"Then what about a pet? The dogs always liked you."

"Hey, yeah, I could do that." I liked the idea of a pet, or any animal that didn't try to kick me.

There was a pause. "Do you really have to move all the way to northern Michigan to learn Finnish, Danny? Aren't there any Finns closer to home? Maybe in Montana, or up in Saskatchewan?"

I normally don't roll my eyes, but... "No, mom, I don't think so."

"There's a Finnish area at that Norsk Høstfest in Minot every year. It has to be run by Finns."

Norsk Høstfest is the biggest Scandinavian festival in the States. The concept of it sounded great, but I found out when I was sixteen that it was an indoor geriatric purgatory with bad accordion music. Old Weegies and Swedes shuffled around in slow motion, checked their dentures, and passed eye-watering gas from the samples of pickled herring.

"Mom, only some of the people in the Helsinki Hall were actually Finnish. The only person I heard who could speak that language was a mean old... witch. I wouldn't learn much from her."

"Alright, fine. Do you want Jake or Pete to come help you?"

"No, it's too far just for that. My furniture is crap, so I won't be taking it with me. I'm gonna buy a house out there, and I'll buy decent stuff from a local store to put in it. I don't want my new place looking like a low end frat house."

"If that's the case, you'll need to have a cleaning service come in once a week."

"I'm not that messy anymore." I didn't mean to, but I sounded defensive.

"Oh, is that so? That's not what Andrea used to tell me. She called your apartment 'slob-halla'. You know, like Valhalla; a shrine to anything Norse, but a complete wreck."

I was gonna have to cuss my sister again for that. "It's mostly just clothes and books. It doesn't smell."

"Danny..."

"Fine, I'll look into it."

*****

Volvo had a deal going on (they might still have it) where you buy one of their cars, and you get a trip to Sweden. No, really. You go over there, drive your new car and they send it to the U.S. technically used. It's a lot cheaper for them for some reason. I had to order one at a dealership, and the closest one was in Minneapolis. I wasn't going that way for my trip to the U.P., so the next best option was Green Bay.

Less than a week later, I was sitting across a desk from the manager of a Volvo dealership. We worked out the details of what I wanted, and then we went through the vacation promotion. When it came time to haggle a price, I called Uncle Lars.

I'd gotten to Green Bay the evening before, crashed in a cheap motel, and was at the Volvo lot as soon as they opened. Gothenburg is seven hours ahead, and my uncle told me to call as early as possible. The manager was surprised when I started talking on my phone in Swedish, but even more so when I handed the phone to him. Lars told the guy that a note from Volvo headquarters was being sent; on it was the greatly reduced price I was going to pay for my new XC-60. The look on the guy's face made me grin.

From Green Bay, I drove up to Houghton, Michigan. I had a GPS app for the U.P., so I wasn't too worried. I drove around that town for almost an hour, which was more than enough. No offense, but Houghton looked like it had a hard life. Across the river was Hancock; it was even worse, and most of it was built on the side of a giant hill. Those two towns reminded me of a pair of worn-out shoes, one bigger than the other. The experience was like if I found out that my prom date had herpes... or testicles.

At Houghton's visitor center, I learned something interesting. Yeah, Hancock had probably the biggest population of Finnish speakers in the U.S., but other towns in the U.P. had some, too. I didn't need two hundred Finns talking at me; in fact, anything less was good.

So I drove two more hours to Marquette and did the same thing. What a difference. I liked everything about that town. Even the older neighborhoods had a simple charm. I drove around until dark, got a hotel room, and fell asleep enthused.

I visited Marquette's visitor's center the next morning. The nice lady there gave me an odd smile when I asked where I might find any Finnish speakers. "Are you searching your roots?" she asked.

"Uh, no ma'am; I want to learn their language, and I was told there's a small community of 'em here."

"Ah, those folks," she said with a tone that explained her forced smile. "They're a quirky bunch."

"Yeah, well, I'm a little quirky myself. Do you know if they meet somewhere every now and then?"

"Hmm, no, not that I know of... You could try one of the cafes closer to the Dome; some of the elderly like to walk the track there, even in good weather." The 'Dome' she referred to was the Superior Dome, a huge indoor sports facility. "Or," she continued, "maybe one of the senior care places. We have three in town." She said it proudly, like they were tourist attractions.

Stopping in at a café was a lot more appealing than visiting some assisted living building; it would've reminded me of all those times I visited my grandma. "Okay, thanks. Now where's the nearest realtor?"

I talked to a friendly real estate guy named Rob and told him what I was generally looking for. When I stated how much of a down payment I was willing to make, he perked right up. I was using up a big chunk of my accumulated fracking money on my new SUV and house deposits; there were no other plans for it. Rob showed me some listings online, and then we went to go look at the ones I liked.

The third house on the list was back in a quiet neighborhood on a very short dead-end street. I mean short as in there was one house on either side of the road. It was a dead-end because of one of Marquette's city trails cut through there. The lawn was good-sized and level with a bunch of mature trees scattered around. The house was a simple ranch style; three bedrooms, one bath, attached two-car garage and carport, and sliding glass doors (some yoopers call it a door wall) out to the deck and fenced backyard. Updates had been made, most importantly the reinforced roof for snow weight.

What kept the price low was all the work that needed to be done on the outside. The place was due for a paint job, yard work, and some new lumber for the deck. It was cosmetic stuff; I could do that myself. The property was what I needed, what I wanted, and it was next to a jogging trail. I couldn't have asked for much more. It was nothing special by normal standards, but it was a palace for a young, single guy.

When Rob and I finally stepped back out of the empty house, I told him I wanted it. Yeah, sometimes I'm impulsive, but I knew it was the place for me. He reminded me there were other properties to look at. I didn't need to look any further, so I asked if there were other bids on that house. There was one, but I was betting they couldn't match my huge down payment and spotless credit rating.

The owner accepted my bid that day. I stayed in Marquette for four more days while the pest and home inspections were done. I also needed that time to deal with all the damn paperwork and make sure my pre-approval went through. The owner agreed to fix a couple things, and the negotiations were done. The bank bullshit was gonna take a few weeks, so I went back to Fargo.

*****

Six days later I was in Sweden again, all on Volvo's dime. I spent a few days there, went out to dinner with my extended family, and caught up on some work and correspondence in my free hotel room. Uncle Lars handed me the keys to my new blue SUV; I drove it about a mile and brought it back to him to be shipped off to Green Bay. A bag full of impulse buys from the Volvo gift shop completed my trip.

Two weeks later, I got the green light; the house was mine. Andrea and Scott helped me pack, which took less than an hour. We went out for a nice farewell lunch, where I was informed that they had job offers in Milwaukee and were moving soon.

All my stuff fit in the back of my truck, so I didn't have to rent anything. The next morning, I was in Green Bay transferring my clearly-labeled boxes to my new SUV. A week after I moved in, I took care of all the mandatory crap (updating address and insurance, new license and plates, credit card info and moving my money to another bank, blah, blah, blah). I bought enough nice furniture that my place didn't look abandoned.

By the end of April, I had most everything around my new place finished. The house was in shape and looked good. The lawn was tamed and trimmed. I thought of what my parents had and got all the tools, machines and supplies I could think of needing. I had become officially domestic. The apartment in Fargo didn't count; it was a box with a window. I'd go as far as to use a _'cocoon-in-Fargo to a butterfly-in-Marquette'_ metaphor, but it would sound really gay.

My house was two miles or less from everything; the big hospital, shopping, the Superior Dome, and the coast. NMU was only a few blocks away. There are a number of bike-and-foot trails around and through town; I mostly ran the one next to my yard and looped back on a side street. I knew my simple routes well enough; it was time to expand them.

I found the animal shelter on my second try. They didn't have many animals there, which I guess was a good thing. When I strolled by the cages, one dog really caught my eye. Funny I should say that, because it was his eyes that got my attention. They were light blue, staring out of a dark face. The info sheet hanging on the cage told me it was a two-year old male Siberian husky mix. The 'mix' was obvious; he looked just like a husky, but about twice the size.

I was thinking of a smaller dog, but I asked one of the employees about him anyway. The best guess of his lineage was that he was a husky/akita mix - a 'huskita'. She said he was mellow, but that didn't mean lazy. Both huskies and akitas were active breeds. I asked about him being a jogging companion, and was told that would be great; he might get "restless" if not given daily exercise.

The dog was given up because he became overprotective of the family's new baby. He'd been at the shelter for about four months; his size and aggressive reaction to other pets made other people wary of adopting him. He was black and gray, and weighed 110 lbs. - yep, a big fella. He was also supposedly low-maintenance, except for the daily exercise thing and letting him know I was the alpha.

I was unsure about adopting him until the shelter employee gave the name he answered to: Odin - king of the Norse gods. Well, that clinched it. My impulsive behavior be damned, I got a dog.

Odin was shy at first, but he didn't like to be too far away from me. He responded to simple words like 'sit', 'outside', and 'no', and learned to trust me pretty quickly. Within a few days, we were wrestling in the backyard, and he'd get excited when I picked up his leash. I became kind of proud of the stares he'd receive when we were out jogging. Whenever I was working, Odin laid near the doorway to my office in guard-mode. I picked a winner.

*****

One thing I missed, being in a new place all by myself, was that I didn't have my sister or mom around to cut my hair. I wasn't used to a barber shop environment, casual as it was. I was a new guy, an outsider, and less than half the age of the youngest guy in the little shop I walked into. Added to that was my sometimes blunt statements when I was nervous, so I sat quietly and waited my turn.

As the old men continued to joke amongst themselves, the barber cleaned up after his last customer and motioned for me to have a seat. I sat down and couldn't help but notice the skinny old man across from me. He had dentures that were way too big for his mouth, so I tried to look away.

The barber introduced himself as Tom and asked how I was doing while he put the apron on me. Before I could respond, ol' horse-teeth loudly announced, "You've got a new victim, Tom, and young, too. I doubt he'll be askin' for a shave."

The men chuckled. I smiled and let it go.

"What say there, young man," the fossil with fake teeth said, "did your mother send ya?"

They all laughed again. I murmured, "No sir" while trying not to stare at those enormous teeth.

"Don't mind him," Tom told me. "Floyd just likes to poke a bit for fun." I wasn't having any fun, and Floyd was getting on my nerves.

The old prick wouldn't let it go. "Did ya skip class ta come get a trim with your allowance?"

That was it. I said what was on my mind, and made sure I said it in English. "I'm surprised you can talk so much with that row of toilet lids in your mouth."

Everyone was laughing except me and Floyd; he glared at me and I glared right back. Normally I respect my elders, but not when one of 'em is being an asshole. The situation calmed down, and one of the other old guys asked me about myself as Tom worked. That led to the whole translator, languages, and 'let's-hear-some' dialogue. I used to use it as a party trick on college girls in Fargo to help me get laid, but I wasn't comfortable about flaunting it without a bunch of drinks in me.

Tom commented, "If you can speak bullshit too, you'll fit right in with these guys."

I liked those old farts; even Floyd after a while. They were happy to tell me about Marquette and the area, stuff I wouldn't find online. When I asked about where I could find Finnish speakers, they named a bunch of the Finns and the café they gathered at for lunch. The barber shop geezers knew a lot more than the perma-smile lady at the visitor's center did.

*****

I'd been learning Finnish from different sources when I found the time, and had its basic structure down. Studying a country's history and attempting to write in their language always sped up my progress, so the notebook I scribbled Finnish in was usually sitting on one of my desks. I was far from fluent in it at that point, but I could catch the gist of a statement or conversation.

That being said, I basically understood the discussion going on when I walked into the small café I was told about. Aside from a couple other patrons, there were seven older folks prattling on in Finnish. I sat up at the counter and acted like I was looking at the menu, all the while listening to the Finns at the tables behind me. They were going on about chickens, a topic I knew a little about.

The Finn's conversation turned to dairy cattle as I was finishing the last bite of the pasty (pronounced PAST-ee) I'd ordered. I half-turned on my swivel stool as the elderly gent nearest to me was explaining something about his Dexter-breed cow - possibly that he didn't like the cheese from its milk - and was thinking of getting a Jersey.

I nodded to myself in agreement. The Rylander Ranch had a few Jerseys; mostly for milk and butter, but the cheese was good too. The man noticed my unintentional nod and turned more toward me with arched eyebrows. His look was both surprised and expectant; I guess he didn't assume a young guy would understand him, and was waiting for me to chime in.

I cleared my throat and gave my first chat in Finnish a shot. _"My family has Jerseys. You will go happy that you get one."_

A few of the other Finns looked at me. The old man with the Dexter cow said in English, "Close," and then corrected me. A little bit more embarrassing in person than online, but he was cool about it.

"Sorry, I'm still learning."

"That's alright, young man. It was a good try." Then he noticed my _'Got lutefisk?'_ t-shirt and asked, "So, is your blood Swedish or Norwegian?"

"Swedish, sir," I replied hesitantly.

"Ah," he said with a nod of approval, "the salt of the earth, Swedes. You look it, too."

"Well," I admitted, "I'm half German."

He paused, and then said, "Best just to stick with the Swedish."

I had to smile at that.

His name was Jarmo Pakkala (a kick-ass name, in my opinion), and he introduced me to the others. Yeah, they were quirky, as someone had said, but I guess knowing their language (sort of) was the ice-breaker. I was invited to sit and talk, and was nicely corrected as I struggled along. I asked about them, and they asked about me. I hung out with them longer than I'd intended to, but they were pretty entertaining.

At one point, one of the two ladies of the group asked me in English, "Are you married, Mr. Rylander?"

"No ma'am, not even close."

"Would you like to meet my granddaughter? She's a lovely girl."

"Aila, don't start," Jarmo told her. "Daniel's still just getting himself settled."

"What's the harm?" she asked innocently. "He said he works for himself, he's a handsome young man, and he's unattached. He might want a pretty face to show him around."

Aila did touch on an idea I'd been toying with: paying someone to be like a tour guide. There were lots of things to see and do around the area, and I was concerned about locating them on my own. And if I did discover something away from a road, I was worried about finding my way back to my SUV.

One of the other men spoke up. "Both a' your granddaughters are pretty, no doubt, but I hope you're not thinkin' a' Jessica."

"What's wrong with her?" Aila asked, but with a tone that said she already knew.

The only other woman in the group said with a gentle tone, "Thinking was never that girl's strong suit."

"What does Jessica rate on your watt scale, Ollie?" Jarmo asked the man who first mentioned her name.

Ollie saw my confusion and explained. "I got this habit a' ratin' people's smarts by light bulbs. Take you, for example. Knowin' all those languages and runnin' your own small business, I'd rate ya at a bright 100 or 120 watts. Jarmo there, he's at least that bright afore he starts drinkin'. After six brews in, though, he dims to a damn 40." Ollie then turned to Aila. "Don't go takin' offense now," he said to her, "but on my watt scale, your granddaughter Jess ain't even screwed in."

Laughter and bickering in Finnish erupted. I shook Jarmo's hand, quickly said I'd like to visit again soon, and then escaped amid the chaos. Just that one sitting helped me get a good grasp on the language.

*****

I came home to a sight that made me frown. Normally when I came back from running errands, I'd find Odin on the leather couch or next to the sliding glass door leading to the deck. That day, though, I found him on the living room floor lying on a pile of my dirty clothes. He'd pulled a bunch of t-shirts and towels that I'd left scattered around the house, and made a bed of them. He looked content.

The bed made of my clothes wasn't what made me frown; I knew my dog did that just to be comforted with my scent when I wasn't there. What made me frown was that the pile of clothes was easily big enough for him to stretch out on, and there were still more clothes lying around. Clothes and books and DVD's and empty water bottles... I was a slob. Dammit, I had to take my mom's advice.

Okay, so I needed a housecleaner/tour guide/assistant on a part-time basis. The cleaning part was obvious, the tour guide thing was short-term, and the assistant part was mostly just to keep me organized with my jobs. Although I'd picked up another good client for regular work, I didn't want to cough up the kind of money companies would demand for those part-time jobs. I needed someone who was qualified, recommended and available. The problem was that I really didn't know anyone.

An early June storm kept me and Odin from an outdoor run, so I went over to the Superior Dome. NMU plays their hockey, football and track events there, but the field was otherwise open for any use. It's a pretty cool place. On my way out, I passed by a big community board with all sorts of notices pinned on it. Nothing there caught my eye, but it made me think of how to advertise for an assistant.

That night I typed up an ad, and had no intention of making flyers. I was trying to pass myself off as a professional; taping ads to business windows seemed cheesy and desperate. Here's what I wrote:

Help Wanted - one position. Norbaltra (Nordic-Baltic Translations) is seeking a long-term personal assistant on a part-time basis (6-10 hours weekly). Job will include housekeeping and other light duties. Candidates should have strong organizational skills, self-motivation, and reliable transportation. Childcare skills are not required. Any needed supplies will be provided. Hours and pay scale are negotiable. Insurance is not offered. Norbaltra is run from a private residence, offering casual working conditions and basic amenities. Those with allergies or an aversion to dogs need not inquire. Contact Dan at norbaltra.com or call xxx-xxx-xxxx for an interview.

A little wordy, yes, but I didn't want to be misleading. I gave my personal number; my other cell was for business calls, and my landline was used only for the occasional interpreter work. I was anxious that I wouldn't get a response, and then anxious if I got too many responses. I bet there's a pill for that.

I didn't want someone older; some energy might've been needed for whatever chores that might come up. I'd be worried about an elderly person going up and down the basement stairs to do my laundry and having a heart attack; that'd be an interesting call to my insurance company. If things didn't work out, I didn't think I had it in me to criticize a lady who looked like she'd bake me cookies, let alone fire her.

On the other end of the spectrum, I didn't want a college kid, either. Besides not having hardly any real world experience, a student might wanna half-ass it for easy money. And what if the kid I hired was as messy and forgetful as I was? I didn't think I could put _'21 to 45 only, and act like a friggin' adult'_ in the ad without some backlash, but I wanted to.

I thought about posting my ad on the Marquette craigslist, but that felt nearly as cheesy as fliers. I think that was because it would only be two clicks away from some very disturbing posts. I didn't want my ad in such close proximity to a guy trying to sell suspicious meat, or an obese woman with a cannoli fetish.

The next morning I went to the building of the local newspaper. I could've placed my ad online through the paper's website, but I didn't want to stare at my computer screen any more than I had to. Plus, I ran out of cereal, and there was a restaurant with a breakfast menu a few doors down from there. I called it being practical, meaning I could justify almost anything I did.

*****

A few hours later, a lady from the newspaper called. My ad was brought to her attention, and she hoped to get more information on the new company in town. I had to clarify, saying that I ran a one-man sole proprietorship and the majority of my clients were in Europe. Just so she knew I was legitimate, I told her that I only needed state permits and licenses and wasn't subject to a city business tax. To my relief, she wasn't calling about that; she only wanted to interview me for an article.

On the down side, I wasn't a big fan of opening up. If I said no to an interview, I might've become the new asshole in town. There was no business up side; I doubted there was much need for translation in the Upper Peninsula. The only good thing an article about me might've done was to enhance my chances for finding an assistant, and maybe give me a decent first impression to anyone who cared.

The reporter's name was Lisa. She looked to be in her mid-thirties; pale skin with dark hair pulled up in a loose bun, and wore nerdy black-rimmed glasses. We met in a coffee shop for the interview. I sure wasn't gonna invite her over to my pigsty for it, and I didn't know how Odin would react to a stranger invading his territory. My dog had quickly risen on my list of priorities.

Lisa sat a little closer than I was comfortable with while she asked questions about my background, languages, and why I moved to Marquette. There wasn't anything I felt too awkward about, except when she asked to take a picture of me. I put it off until the end of the interview, and then relented. As we said our goodbyes, I was informed that I would be the main article for the 'around town' section of the upcoming Sunday's paper, which was also when my ad would be printed. I needed a pill.

I did some shopping Sunday morning, and picked up a newspaper on my way out. The article was nice enough to make me feel embarrassed, but I still sent my mom and Andrea the online versions of it.

*****

Odin and I went jogging that day on one of the town trails, as we normally did. We passed a lone jogger; he and I recognized each other. It was Rob, my realtor. We said quick hellos and shook hands before Odin and I continued with our faster pace. I took a water break a short time later when the trail passed a small park. Rob caught up with me there while I let Odin cool off in a small pond.

"Hey," Rob said while trying to catch his breath, "you set a mean pace."

I shrugged. "I don't pay much attention."

"Well let me tell ya," he said as he came closer and opened his water bottle, "I ran track in high school and college. You probably would've smoked anybody on my team. Did you run in school?"

"Yeah, high school back in North Dakota. It was just something to do."

"North Dakota, eh?" he asked with a grin. "You must've gotten fast chasing after farm animals."

I grinned back. "Yeah, pretty much."

"So how's your house working out? I think this trail goes past it, right?"

"Yeah, it does, and I'm really happy with the place. I repainted the outside light blue, with dark blue trim and a yellow front door. That mint green color wasn't doing that house any favors."

"Nice; yellow is a bold choice, I guess."

"Blue and yellow, Sweden's flag colors. I'm a fan. I was gonna plant some yellow flowers out front, but I've been kinda busy."

Rob smiled wide. "Hey, I use that same excuse with my wife when I forget to do a chore. It hardly ever works, but that doesn't stop me from trying."

Odin shook off excess water and came back near me. He stared at Rob while I hooked the leash back onto his collar. I first noticed my dog's _'I-will-kill-you'_ posture, and then Rob's _'please-don't-kill-me'_ expression. To ease the tension, I said, "This big bastard's glare can seem cold and intimidating until you get to know him. Then you're sure it is."

Rob laughed to cover up his apprehension.

"Don't worry about Odin too much. He's just protective, and hasn't had much chance to be socialized. I think if he got used to someone else, he'd act like a puppy... An oversized, demanding puppy."

"Oh, alright; I know the type. My mom had a protective dog, but it was tiny and harmless." After another swig from his bottle, he said, "That was you in the paper this morning, wasn't it? I told my wife I knew you, that I sold you a house."

I cringed on the inside. "Yeah, well, that article painted a pretty nice picture of me. I'm really a prick."

"Your dog, maybe," he said with a chuckle, "but I don't get that sense about you. In my line of work, I've gotten good at reading people. And you're a polyglot? Wow."

"Look, it's not that big of a deal. It's just something I really get into. If you loved programming computers or drawing blueprints of skyscrapers or something, it's pretty much the same difference."

"Still, it's impressive, and I bet being multilingual is a rare thing. Hell, programmers and architects are common; I had to remind my wife what a polyglot was, and she's a teacher. Okay, an elementary school teacher, but still. How many languages was it? I forgot."

I sighed. "Aw man, I don't wanna talk about it anymore, okay? How about we get back on the trail?"

"As long as you slow down, and don't make me run next to your dog."

"You'd run faster if you thought he was chasing you."

Rob and I got along well. We both liked the idea of finding an old car and restoring it. We both had plans to build a shed in our backyards. He asked if we could go jogging together again sometime; he needed some motivation. I agreed, but only if he bought me a beer for pushing his lazy ass.

*****

When I got back home, I found out that people had already started trying to contact me for the job offer. There were two messages on my phone and three new emails. Of the five, three were students; I replied to them and said the position was filled. Another was someone who had secretarial experience, but wouldn't stoop to do housework. Arrogant shit. The last one, an email, looked fairly promising.

By the following Tuesday evening, I'd whittled down responses to four possible candidates. I had to respond soon, but wasn't sure where or when to arrange meetings. I talked with Rob about it the next afternoon while we jogged. He suggested that since I really wanted someone who'd work mornings, I should set early interviews in a neutral location. I mentioned the casual dining place downtown that I'd been to before. He said that was a good choice, and to use a booth for a sense of privacy. Rob also suggested I get there early and get a meal; I might do better with a full stomach.

I planned on spacing the interviews two days apart; that way, I could make up for lost time away from my office during the off days. I emailed the chosen applicants and told each of them where and when. I think I was more nervous than any of them might've been.

That Friday, I arrived at Gunnar's Grill early as Rob suggested. The waitress was distractingly pretty, which helped me not to dwell on giving an interview. I had questions ready and felt prepared. I told the waitress I'd be there a while, and I'd leave a big tip for taking the booth for so long. When I told her that, I started out saying it in Russian; I stopped in time before I made a complete fool of myself. Man, just when I thought I was getting good with casual conversation, it only took a bright smile, big green eyes, and a fantastic ass to turn me into a dork again.

The first interviewer was a woman in her forties with a personality that matched her drab clothes. Our conversation went along well enough, if a little stiff and formal. Then she said something that changed the mood. "Your ad said six to ten hours; I can work more than that."

"Uh, sorry, that's all I need someone for."

"I'd like a minimum of fifteen hours a week, twenty if possible."

"Okay... I'll say it again. I only need someone for six to ten hours a week."

She grabbed her purse and began to scoot out of the booth. "I'm sorry. That just won't do."

"That's too bad," I replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm. "I really wanted you to meet my dog."

*****

I was supposed to meet up with Rob for a beer that night, but our chat on the phone changed plans. He said that his wife wanted to meet her husband's new jogging buddy sometime, so I said I didn't care if she came with us. Then the plan for a beer changed to a few drinks, and then to dinner with drinks. I learned they lived four blocks away, so I offered to pick them up; I wanted to show off my SUV.

Rob and Lauren Anderson were good company; he had a sense of humor like Grandpa Eli, and she was full of stories and interesting trivia. At a guess, they were both about seven years older than me, but that didn't seem to matter. When I told them about the bad interview that morning, Lauren mentioned that schools had let out a couple weeks before and she had a couple months available. I said if I couldn't find anyone in a couple weeks, I'd take her up on the offer.

By the end of the night, Rob had invited me to come over sometime soon to sample his micro-brews. Lauren warned me against it, but still wanted me over some evening to talk about some of the European cities I'd been to. In turn, I invited them to the cookout I was gonna have the next weekend; I planned to treat myself for my birthday. The more, the merrier.

I had more responses to my ad come in over the weekend. I also had an email from an NMU professor requesting me to contact him about meeting with their linguistics department or visiting their language lab. It was a nice offer. I wrote back and agreed to meet with them when I had the chance.

That weekend was filled with a lot of social interaction, too. I met with Jarmo and the other old Finns again; the doughnuts I bought for them were warmly received. I jogged with Rob and discussed where to find an old car to fix up. I chatted with the neighbor across the street about how to repel those damn biting black flies. I accepted two quick interpreter jobs. I was on Skype for a while with other polyglots. Lastly, I had a talk with Odin about sleeping in my bed when I wasn't home; the conversation was a bit one-sided, but he licked my face to tell me he understood... and would still keep doing it.

I had the next week's interviews at Gunnar's again, same booth. Monday, the applicant pointed out that my ad said _'hours negotiable'_ and wanted only evening shifts; she left in a huff. Wednesday, another applicant's cellphone kept ringing throughout the interview... and she kept answering it. Friday, the next applicant came in wearing a tank top and cargo shorts, and was carrying his skateboard; I said "No" before he could sit down. My pretty waitress laughed and walked away.

Over the weekend, I met with the old Finn group once again. They were entertained with my bad interview stories, and said I only made a few mistakes telling them in Finnish. The Anderson's were over for steaks and potatoes; I remembered to clean my place a little before they showed up. Odin behaved (somewhat) and even let Lauren pet him for a minute. It was a couple days of slow progress.

*****

I was back at Gunnar's on the next Monday morning. After fifteen minutes of waiting past the given time, I decided the applicant was a no-show. I was getting ready to leave when my waitress came over to my table. She stood there for a few seconds without saying anything, and then sat down across from me. I wasn't sure how to react, so I waited for her to tell me what was going on.

She began with, "So... tell me more about the job."

"Uh, I was supposed to meet someone named Mike Bowen. I doubt you're him."

"Well, since that guy decided not to keep his appointment, I thought I'd take his time slot. As long as you're here, you may as well give an interview, right?"

She did have a point. I mean, I could've said no, but I liked looking at her. I'm weak like that. Besides the big green eyes that I mentioned before, she was a brunette with her hair pulled into a tail. My best guess of her age was early twenties, but I suck at that. She wasn't supermodel hot, but she had one of those naturally attractive faces. Oh, and she had dimples... Man, those got to me. She didn't smile much, but when she did I couldn't help but notice.

"Uh, yeah, I guess." I wasn't sure how long it took me to respond. "Did I set up an interview with you for some other time?"

She shook her head. "I saw the ad, but I didn't call or anything. Whatever I'd tell you then, I can tell you now if that's alright."

"I, uh..."

"Here, I'll start off." She had initiative; I liked that. "My name is Valerie, if you'll remember." I didn't. "I have a steady work history; I'll email that later. I've worked here for over four years. I don't have a criminal record, not even a speeding ticket. And, I can provide personal references if you need them."

"I don't think that would help. I hardly know anyone around here."

"Are you sure? My granny Aila said some nice things about you."

"Aila... Aila Maki? She's your grandma?" A very bad thought struck me. "You said your name was Valerie, not Jessica, right?"

Those dimples came and went with her quick smile. "Jess is my older sister. Whatever you heard about her is probably true, sad to say. Oh, and someone else I know mentioned you. You're friends with Lauren Anderson's husband, right?"

"Shit, how small is this town?"

She shrugged. "Biggest in the U.P., but that's not saying much. So, can we keep going? I know it's not too busy in here right now, but the boss is a stickler about breaks."

"Yeah, sure, no problem... Um, I'm wondering why you didn't apply before."

"I was thinking about it, and then you started coming in here... over and over. I recognized you from the picture in the paper. The story was interesting, by the way. When other people came and sat down here, I watched when I could; I wanted to get an impression of you for myself."

"I guess I've been getting interviewed for a while and didn't know it, huh? How'd I do?"

"Eh, I'd say you're harmless."

"Gosh, thanks." Although being called harmless in that situation was a good thing, no guy wants to be thought of that way. "You realize I'm gonna ask Lauren and your grandma about you."

"They've already been paid off. I'm not worried."

Valerie was a nice surprise. She sure as hell wasn't an idiot like her sister supposedly was. She had some wit, and seemed to have her head on straight. I fought the impulse to hire her right then.

"Okay, about the job," I began, not exactly sure how to explain what I was looking for. "I realize the ad in the paper didn't give many details..."

"Some, but not much," she agreed. "I don't have a problem with dogs, and housecleaning is fine unless you're including cleaning gutters or mowing your lawn."

"No, I mean just the basics; vacuuming, dusting, throwing my clothes in the hamper, stuff like that. I'd take care of everything else. You wouldn't even have to clean the toilet."

Valerie nodded. "What about the assistant part?" she asked. "I'm not sure what that means, exactly."

"I have a lot of projects going on, and I need someone to help me keep it organized. I have my own system, but I'm not great at filing. I'd want someone to get familiar with the type of work I do, and search certain websites for translation or interpreting side-jobs for me. Maybe answer my business line if I'm in the middle of something else. It's nothing too tough."

"I could handle that. My Uncle Otto does taxidermy in the hunting seasons, and my Aunt Irene makes quilts. Both under the table; they're not big fans of taxes. I used to arrange their orders and keep track of things." She paused. "Do I need to be able to speak another language?"

"Well, can you?"

"I took German in high school, and I know a few words in Finnish from Granny Aila, but... no."

I liked her honesty. Okay, fine, I thought she was hot, but honesty is good, too. "No, that's not needed. In fact, I want someone speaking English to me so that I remember what language I'm supposed to be using." Valerie gave me a look; it wasn't the _'you're-a-dork'_ look, but it wasn't far off. Good going, Dan.

"And the other 'light duties' your ad mentioned?"

"Uh, yeah, about that... Do you know what a tour guide does?"

"I, um... What?" she asked, and then glanced toward the bar area. "Look, I have to go. Sorry if I wasted your time. I hope you find the right person."

As she stood, I said, "No, wait, you didn't waste my time. This was the best interview I've had so far."

Valerie frowned at me. "I saw the other ones, at least on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. They weren't tough to beat."

"Yeah, none of those turned out good, but I still want a second interview with you. Call or email; we'll figure out a time and place if you're still interested."

Walking away, she said, "Great. I'll be in touch, promise."

I felt like I lost the upper hand somewhere, and sat there in the booth wondering how that happened. Then I stared at Valerie's ass as she walked off, and the answer was clear.

*****

Lauren was questioned later that day. She didn't have much to say, other than that Valerie was a good person and a hard worker. When I asked how she knew her, Lauren said, "I just know her. She asked me not to say too much if it came up, Dan. Val likes her privacy." I couldn't bitch about that; I was pretty much the same. It didn't stop me from being curious, but it was no big deal.

I met Valerie on a Thursday in the late morning at Marquette's Pocket Park, a nice little green space downtown tucked between two buildings. I hadn't replied to any other applicants, and I hadn't had the chance to talk with Aila Maki; I was going with my instincts. Yes, Valerie was attractive, but I honestly got the impression she'd be a big help. No, really, I did.

We sat across from each other at a small picnic table. Valerie looked even better with her hair down. I brought Odin with me so she could meet him on neutral ground. She was wary of him at first, but said his eyes were beautiful. He gave her a sniff, and then stretched out next to the table and fell asleep. Apparently, she was harmless too.

I decided to skip the formalities. "First, I'm glad you could make it. Now, I could go through my list of basic interview questions, but I'd rather that we just talk and be honest with each other. If I hire you, truths are gonna come out anyway. If you're like me, you don't wanna open up like you're in therapy. I'm only talking about what each of us can expect from each other. So, if this goes okay for both of us, I can show you where you might be working."

"You know, I haven't had too many follow-up interviews, but they were nothing like this."

"Yeah, formal isn't my thing. We might be working around each other, so our personalities are gonna come out. And keep in mind, I'm puttin' myself out there more than you are; I'd be letting you in my house and mess with my stuff. Like Odin, I'm kinda territorial, so this is outside my comfort zone."

"Okay, I can see that," she said with a nod. "And I'm glad we're not going to do the ol' Q and A like we're reading from scripts, especially considering the type of job it is." She took a deep breath and continued. "If we're being honest, I could use extra money. I took some college courses a long time back; econ and business, mostly. I wanted to work over at the social security office. Problem was, the pay is crap at ground level without a degree. There's also no way to get good promotions without one, either. So I was taking classes for a BA in Public Admin, but I had to stop. I needed money, and it wasn't in my budget."

Valerie's situation reminded me of Grandma Hannah. "I get that. I did nearly the same thing, but without any college under my belt. So you're thinking that working for me will help you get back on track?"

"Depending on what you're paying," she replied with a rare smile. "And it'd take a while to finish up anyway; online courses aren't too cheap."

"Yep, I know what you mean. I've got two certifications - mechanical engineering and translation - and I'm currently working on a third for finance. They keep getting more expensive."

"Alright, so, I gave my little honest speech. What about you? I'd like to know what to expect."

I sat back and thought about for a second. "Uh, first of all, I'm kind of a slob. Not the kind of slob that stinks up the place or attracts ants; I mean shoes and clothes and stuff lying around. The idea of being tidy flies out the window when I've got a language or a translation job swirling around in my head. I've been told I can be blunt sometimes, but I don't mean anything by it. Again, I'm just preoccupied. If I have my ear buds in, you'll either have to pull them out or throw something at me to get my attention."

"Hmm, you weren't kidding; that really was honest."

"I just didn't want you to have any surprises. I wouldn't want any."

"I appreciate that," Valerie said earnestly, and then hesitated. Something crossed her mind, but she moved on quickly. "If you don't have any problems with this interview so far, can I see the jobsite?"

She followed me back to my place. When her older model Ford Fusion pulled up in the driveway, I heard a heavy rattle under the hood. "That's an ugly noise you got there," I commented as she stepped out.

"I know; I've had it for a while. I'll get it to a shop soon. So, this is your place... It doesn't look sloppy at all; nice, actually. The flower beds could use some color, but this is a nice place for a bachelor."

"Oh? How are you so sure I'm single?"

"Granny Aila tells me more than I need to know. Can we go in?"

Less than a minute later, Valerie stood in my living room and slowly looked around. I'd straightened up a little that morning. Granted, the walls had no decoration and there wasn't much more than a couch and a TV, but it was fairly clean.

"Uh huh, you're a bachelor, alright," she stated. "If you were shooting for a 'less-is-more' style, you nailed it. Are you still moving in?"

"I'm starting to regret that honesty policy. Let's take a look at my office."

Odin sat at the end of the hall, with the doorways to my bedroom and office on either side of him. He started growling when Valerie came near, so I put him in the bedroom and shut the door. "Sorry, I'm gonna have to work with him on that."

She looked into my office; a soft "whoa" escaped her lips. I wasn't sure what that meant.

Try to imagine a regular-sized bedroom with mismatched desks lining most of the walls. Covering those desks were two PCs, a laptop, a printer, office supplies, stacks of manila folders and CD cases, multiple piles of loose documents, scraps of paper with scribbles on them, and a few notebooks scattered around. The remaining wall space, and inside the open closet, was used for shelving stuffed with books and more folders. Hanging low on the walls, and on some of the shelves, were my rune plaques for where stuff was. Higher on the walls were my two big organizer boards, framed language certifications, and a couple handmade posters of big Nordic runes. Yeah, it was a busy room.

We sat at my little dining table, where I explained the last job duty. "The housecleaning and assistant parts should be obvious, but I need to talk about the tour guide thing I mentioned."

"I was wondering about that."

"Okay, I'll put it like this. First, my sense of direction isn't good. I rely on a portable GPS and the one in my Volvo, but I'm still nervous about getting lost. Second, I don't know this area at all, but there are lots of places I wanna see - beaches, bike and hiking trails, all that stuff. Third, I can be impulsive sometimes. If you work here, you'll have to expect to drop what you're doing and show me where something is."

"You mean like field trips?"

"You could call 'em that, sure. I might also take the dog and go for a walk or jog if I have the time. You'd be welcome to go with us if you wanted. Well, wait; I mean sometimes. Now and then I'll want to run alone to get my brain focused."

Valerie frowned with doubt. "And I'd be getting paid for those things?"

"Unless you keep falling asleep on the couch or something, you'd get paid for being here and helping me out. For all the other crap you might have to deal with, I think it's a fair trade."

I went on to explain that she'd be welcome to any food or drinks I had, as long as she didn't start taking stuff home with her. If she had a laptop and wanted do some schoolwork on her break, I could set up a little desk in the spare room. I'd rely on her to do whatever might be needed, and make lists of anything I needed to buy or see to myself. I offered a nice hourly pay; maybe not as good as a professional service would charge, but I figured the casual perks and flexible schedule would make up for that.

Valerie accepted the job offer with a smile. It was that smile that made me realize I was gonna have to keep a professional distance. I just hired the woman I wanted to ask out, which wasn't so smart.

*****

Valerie was hoping for cash off the books rather than taxes, but I pointed out that she could add being a personal assistant at Norbaltra to her resume. She'd be handling the set-up for her own paychecks and my tax crap before it was sent off to Andrea anyway (my awesome sis always did my taxes for me).

We agreed on a three or four hour shift every Tuesday and Thursday morning. I said that any casual attire was fine, and that I was thinking of having a few Norbaltra t-shirts made if she wanted one. After we stepped outside and were about to say our farewells, I pointed to her Ford and said, "Pop the hood and start it up. Let me see if I can tell what's going on in there."

"You know much about cars?"

I stared at her. "My mechanical engineering certificate didn't come in a cereal box. And I was the family grease monkey on our ranch for years. I think I know my way around an engine."

"You grew up on a ranch? You're a cowboy?"

"Just pop the damn hood, Valerie."

"You sound so serious when you cuss and use my full name," she said with a grin while she opened the driver's door and reached for the release. "You can call me Val instead, if you want."

Like I suspected, the motor mounts were bad; an easy fix. Val said thanks once again and backed out of the driveway. Odin and I stood on our front lawn and watched her drive away. Then my bastard dog spotted a cat in a neighbor's yard and shot off like a rocket. I wasn't the only impulsive guy in my house.

*****

I called each of my family members to say I had an employee. Dad told me not to take any shit, and lay down the law if I had to. Mom only said "that's nice", and then made me promise to send more pictures of my house and be at the ranch for Christmas. Grandpa Eli said to be a fair boss, and try to speak in English. Pete was happy for me, and then said he'd send a video of little Joe chasing after a calf; it reminded him of me. Jake jokingly warned me about dipping my pen in the company ink. Andrea and Scott agreed to visit me for Thanksgiving; I needed to get better in the kitchen anyway.

A day later I met with the old Finn group again. Aila said that Val would work hard for me, and left it at that. When I mentioned finding an old car to restore, Ollie said he had one old junker out on his property I could take a look at whenever I wanted. I worked on my Finnish and bought the group another round of coffee as a way to say thanks for their time.

The car out in the back of Ollie's field was a real piece of shit; hardly anything was left but a rusted frame. Twenty yards away on his neighbor's lot, however, were a bunch of abandoned snowmobiles. Ollie and I talked to that neighbor and looked through what was there. An hour later I bought two that were the same model and year (one just for parts), plus the trailer that guy agreed to deliver them with. I had a new hobby. Then I decided I needed to build a big shed to put my new hobby in.

I was working on the snowmobiles under the carport when Val showed up for her first day of work. There were some rules I wanted to make clear before we dealt with the duty/chore list I'd made. First, she was not to touch my big reminder boards; if one of 'em needed to be rearranged, I'd do it. Secondly, unless in use, the toilet lid was to be left down; I didn't want Odin drinking from it. Third, I would fire her if she started calling me "cowboy".

My duty/chore list wasn't very detailed. There were a number of things to get used to, but I didn't want to overwhelm her right off the bat. After I showed her where I kept my cleaning supplies, I told her I'd gotten the parts needed for her car and was gonna fix of it. Val protested a little, but I reminded her how much a shop would charge. I also didn't want my new employee to have an excuse to miss work.

After I finished up, her Ford purred like a kitten again. Val insisted that I take the price of the parts out of her pay. I told her it was another small job perk, and she shouldn't argue with her boss. She was apparently the kind of person who had trouble accepting help.

I then addressed a problem. I put Odin on his leash and had him walk with Val and me up and down the hallway to show him she was safe and welcome. It was a long process of trial and scolding until it became trial and praise. We finally got to a point where Val would walk down the hall by herself, and he only glared at her. Damn, that dog was stubborn, but he finally accepted another person in his house.

*****

That first Tuesday, Val spent most of her time cleaning and making lists. On the following Thursday, I gave her some cash and told her to go get the things she'd written down.

"Now I get paid to go shopping?" she asked lightheartedly.

"Huh uh; with that mindset, you wouldn't be back for three hours. I'd dock you for that. Go shopping like a guy would, and you'll be back in forty-five minutes."

I'm not sure when Val actually returned (I was in a lingo fog), but she got my attention an hour and a half after she left. "I got everything I need for now," she informed me. "I also bought some heavy duty chew bones for Odin to keep him out of my way. Then I went ahead and got you two dozen yellow annuals for your barren flower beds. They're all outside, waiting to be planted. The receipt and change is in the kitchen. If you don't need anything, I'm going to start checking those websites you wrote down."

I should've trusted my instincts more often.

Another week and a half went by, and Val was doing a great job. She even went above and beyond, doing a load of my laundry and bringing me a bottle of juice once or twice. I was getting a good sense of her personality, but not anything about her. Val didn't mention her home life or history; hell, she didn't even have much to say about her granny Aila. She stayed serious for the most part, not letting her fun side show very often. I joked some, and she'd grin or chuckle at me, but she was better at keeping that professional distance than I was.

Then things changed. I was updating one of my language programs when Val came into my office with a question. She crouched next to my chair holding a piece of paper, pointing to some of the text printed on it. I wasn't sure what it said or what she was asking; I was only aware that she was very close to me, leaning on my arm. I could smell her vanilla shampoo and light perfume. I studied her lips as they moved. I felt like I was fourteen again, except without the urge to puke.

Val turned her head to look at me, probably because I didn't respond to her question. I got lost in those big green eyes. She gazed back at me; I hoped it was for the same reason. We both began to slowly, silently move our faces toward each other... a foot apart... six inches... one inch...

And then she blinked.

"I, um... I didn't..." Val stuttered as she pulled away and stood. "I... There's - there's someone else..."

She sounded like she was going to explain further, but I was suddenly in escape mode. ""No, I get it, sorry." I got up quick and moved past her, avoiding eye contact. "No, sure... my fault entirely; didn't mean to overstep... I'm - I'm, uh, gonna go take Odin for a run."

I was so damn stupid. Just when I thought I could trust my instincts, they went and embarrassed the shit out of me. Of course Val was spoken for; not many smart, beautiful women out there stayed single for long. It didn't matter that she wanted to kiss me too. I drew the line at getting involved with people who were already in relationships. Odin and I ran at full speed for over a mile.

Val's car wasn't there when I got back. She didn't leave a note anywhere inside, like I half-expected she would. I didn't know what to think, and I didn't wanna call her to find out. Call it fear, call it avoidance. I called it discretion; that's the only word my pride and dignity would accept.

*****

Two evenings later, Rob was over at my place with sample bottles of his awful home-brewed beers. We sat on the new living room furniture that I'd bought that day. I also got a new home gym machine, but it was still in a box down in the basement. Okay, I bought a shitload of kitchenware, too. They were impulse buys, but Rob suggested that I was making more work for my assistant. That's when I realized what I was really doing: trying to impress Val if she showed up the next Tuesday. I was pathetic.

I didn't mention my Valerie woes to Rob; he'd tell Lauren, and I did _not_ need my moment of humiliation going around. He and I talked about how my sled was coming along, my upcoming meeting with a couple NMU professors, and stories of nightmare house-shopping clients he'd had to deal with. He also mentioned an old car he had his eye on; I said I'd be happy to help as long as he kept his beer away from me. It came out blunt, but he laughed. Rob was a dork in his own way, but a damn good guy.

*****

Professor Strauss of NMU's faculty met me on a Monday morning inside the doors of the building he taught in. I'd studied the campus map so I wouldn't be wandering until someone called security; I found the building fairly easily. That was no reason to think my sense of direction was improving.

Strauss was what I expected: mid-forties, suit without a tie, gray in his hair and short beard, and friendly. I was early, and the other professor who wanted to meet me was still teaching her summer course. The situation felt similar to when I met with the teachers at NDSU, but they were more formal and only wanted to verify my linguistic skills. Strauss and I sat in his nice office and talked about different learning techniques and our thoughts on Germany. He was tickled with my story of the Frankfurt brothel.

He asked if I wouldn't mind paying an unexpected visit to Professor Lane's German II class. She only had six students, so I didn't feel too nervous about saying a few words. I kept it simple and said to connect with German speakers online and watch foreign films. Professor Lane said the class was discussing comparative languages, and asked me to give some examples. I used a German sentence that everyone understood, and then said it in Swedish, Norwegian, Dutch and Danish. Lane and I then pointed out similarities. It turned out to be fun.

Lane joined me and Strauss in his office after her class ended, and said the students really enjoyed my impromptu visit. The professors and I talked for a while more on a range of topics. Then Strauss asked me to stop back in at the end of that week to speak again. They wanted to invite everyone enrolled in German classes, or any other language student who wanted to attend. Not a speech, they said, just an informal gathering where I might give my own perspective.

I had to warn them. "Look, I appreciate the thought, but talking to a big crowd probably wouldn't turn out well. I do better with small groups or one-on-one."

"I understand the anxiety of public speaking, Dan," Strauss said, "but there are only sixteen students enrolled in German courses this summer."

"Sixteen... To me, that's a big crowd."

"If that number seems daunting, I'll stand in the back of the room and you can simply talk to me."

"Yeah, okay, that could work, but just talking off the cuff... Sometimes I'm not too, uh, subtle."

The professors glanced at each other. Lane asked, "What do you mean by that? I only ask because we need to keep a professional level of decorum and sensitivity for the students."

"You want an example of me not having a brain-to-mouth filter?" Lane nodded. Strauss grinned. "Okay, here's something that kinda bugs me about the language department here. The U.P., this whole region, it was settled by Finns and Swedes, right? So, you guys _chose_ not to offer either one of those languages, or some dickhead above you did. Either way, it's a crap call. I understand Finnish and Swedish aren't the most popular, but you're kinda shitting on the local heritage by not offering them."

Lane agreed that kind of candid talk wouldn't be best. Strauss was smiling the whole time while he said those kind of comments would be memorable, however inappropriate for a classroom. They still wanted me to come back, but asked that I might prepare some words or key phrases in advance. Not a bad idea.

*****

Val showed up for work the next day. I wanted to say something - thanks for showing up, sorry for trying to make out with my employee - but I didn't. I couldn't find a quick interpreting gig so I could have a reason to shut my office door, so I put my ear buds in and did other work. Val kept her distance as well. I still wanted to look at her, but it'd feel like a violation if she caught me.

On the following Thursday, she did actually speak to me... sort of. At one point, she set a job list in front of me and said the new furniture was nice. Later on, she told me she was making a sandwich and asked if I wanted one. Val didn't seem mad at me, more like she was as embarrassed as I was. Talking about it might've eased the tension, but we both were either too stubborn or afraid to try.

*****

I went back to NMU as requested, and was in for one hell of a shock. I was led to a room, a bigger room, and it was packed with over thirty college students. I turned and glared at Strauss. He shrugged and told me that notices of me meeting with students again were only posted in their language lab; word of mouth must've attracted others. I had no idea why so many people were there.

Professor Lane spoke to everyone for a little while. While she talked, I noticed that the six students I'd already met were up front; good, I could focus on them. There wasn't any room in the back for Strauss to stand like we planned, so I had no choice anyway. Lane began asking me a few questions, which eventually led to me speaking on my own. She must've practiced that because it was pretty smooth.

When I was on my own, I said, "If you're taking a language because you have to for some reason, you're gonna suck at it." I immediately tried to soften that statement. "If you don't want to, there's no point. And language should be more than just learning syntax and structure. Any idiot can memorize "where is the bathroom" in German or French or whatever. Knowing that country's culture and history will have you way ahead of the moron who's on websites to learn how to cuss in a foreign language. Yeah, those sites are entertaining, but they might get you punched in the face, too."

A girl asked, "How many languages are you fluent in?"

"That depends on the day you're asking. No one can stay fully fluent in too many languages at once. Before I came here this morning I worked on an ongoing Swedish project, translated a short Russian document, and chatted online with a guy in Iceland for a few minutes. So, I'm tight with those right now. This afternoon might be a different story."

Some guy asked in a snotty tone, "How many do you really know?"

I sighed. "More than six, just so I can keep my polyglot title."

He waited until the short chuckles died off, and then asked, "Can you say something in all of them right now?" The douche even smiled after his dare.

I said a short sentence in German, just so Strauss, Lane, and a handful of the students knew what I was saying. Then I repeated it in Swedish, Norwegian, Russian, Polish, Dutch, Danish, Icelandic, Czech and Finnish. "Will that do?" I asked him.

"What did all that mean? What were you sayin'?"

Strauss answered for me. "Mr. Rylander said, 'quit asking rude questions'."

My sentence was actually, 'quit asking rude questions, you asshole', but Strauss saw fit to edit me.

I didn't talk much more after that. Lane said some words in conclusion, and then the students started filing out. A few stopped, shook my hand, said something pleasant and moved on. Three girls hovered off to one side; one of 'em was a German student I recognized. One of the other two stepped closer.

"The way you can speak all those languages..." she said, "it's just so... hot."

Wow, I didn't expect that. She was cute; blonde hair, tall, big hooters. Hey, I'm a guy, I noticed.

"Would you like to get a cup of coffee sometime?" she asked before I could respond to the 'hot' thing.

About fourteen hours later, I was thanking her for a great night as I got dressed. Her name was Kaylee, and she gave me the opportunity to release all of my pent up sexual frustration. I left her on-campus apartment like I'd just committed a crime, and skulked around the grounds until I found my SUV.

I drove the few short blocks home with a torn conscience. On one hand, I had this misplaced sense of loyalty to Val. In my mind, we'd been forming an unspoken relationship, and I just dishonored it. On the other hand, there was no actual relationship. All I knew of Val was what she allowed me to see, meaning not much. She was already in a relationship, so there was no reason I couldn't go out and have some fun. I was single, so who cared? All the same, I didn't return any of Kaylee's calls.

*****

While I was still reserved around Val because of my failed kiss attempt, she made an effort to be more sociable with me. She was obviously the more mature one. During that next week, Val made me laugh a few times, and took a real interest in the assistant aspect of her job. I spent more time with her, looking at the webpages of companies I had contracts with and talking about how to get other major clients. The bad tension was gone, but I became more attracted to her. Damn my instincts.

The week after was even better, which made me worry I was falling into the friend zone. I told myself to take what I could get, but the lingering looks, warm smiles and light flirting between us told me not to settle. On an impulse, I had her navigate while I drove the ten or so miles out of town to the Sugarloaf Mountain trail. It was gorgeous. She and I walked Odin on a short loop path while we talked about the scenery, and made comparisons of our early childhoods. I bought us brunch after. It felt like a date, a really good date... Or maybe I was misinterpreting the signs.

On the following sunny Sunday in late August, and a warm one by yooper standards, I was over at Rob's house to help him look over the '61 Dodge truck he'd bought to restore. It was a good thing his dad owned a body shop, because... damn.

"I swear, Dan, you're a bad influence on him," Lauren said when she came out of their house with iced tea for us.

"Don't blame me," I replied as I took the offered glass. "Your husband mentioned this idea a while back. I only agreed with him that it'd be a cool thing to do."

Rob glared at me. "I didn't even see that bus coming. You know; the one you just threw me under." He turned to Lauren and said, "Honey, I remember you saying this was okay..."

"I know I did, but that was before I saw this jalopy in the side yard," she answered teasingly. "And think of all the money you're going to have to spend on it... I may have to get a second job."

"Oh, that's right," I remembered, "you go back to teaching at the grade school in a week or so, right?"

Lauren nodded. "I've already received nice notes from some of the returning second-graders on my Facebook page. Tanya Bishop's son Mark drew me an apple. Oh, and little Beth wrote me a poem; I sent a message back and asked her to read it in class. Have you met her yet?"

The question confused me. "Have I met who yet?"

Lauren frowned at me. "I mean Beth. Maybe you know her by Bethany?"

"Why would I know some little kid named Beth? Or any kid for that matter? Does she live near me?"

"Um, she's Valerie Maki's daughter. Val still works for you, doesn't she?" My stunned reaction must've been evident. "Oh my, she never told you? I wonder why?"

"That's a damn good question. Is that how you know her, Lauren?"

"Yes, I try to keep in touch with most of the student's parents to keep them informed about grades or activities or any problems. That's how I met Valerie a year ago, and we became friends. At least on Facebook and the occasional phone call, anyway. I don't know why she wouldn't mention Beth to you, at least in normal conversation. I'd brag on Beth if she were mine; she's a bright little thing."

*****

I had to wait two days until I saw Val again. When she arrived on a Tuesday morning, I was waiting on the couch with Odin. The front door was open, so she knocked once on the screen door and came in. "Oh, hey, good morning. I didn't expect to see you out here."

She was wearing shorts and a tank top, both of them snug. I didn't let those curves affect me. "I hear little Beth is excited to go back to school... you asshole." I said evenly.

Val's eyes flared open with surprise, and then her thin brows lowered into a scowl. "You're being blunt again. You told me to tell you when you did that."

I kept my voice calm so that Odin wouldn't get jumpy. "Christ, Val, you have a little girl and you never mentioned her? Not even once? What the hell?"

"I didn't know telling you every detail of my life was part of the job!"

"She's not a detail; she's your damn kid! She should _be_ your life, your whole damn world! And you didn't say a single word about her?" Staying calm went out the window. Odin got nervous.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" she yelled. "You don't have a child, so you don't know the first thing about how I feel, or how you _think_ I should feel! I don't owe you any explanations!" Val was on the defensive; cheeks flushed, hands on hips. If I wasn't angry, it would've been cute as hell.

"And what about this 'someone else' you mumbled about a couple weeks ago? I haven't heard about him, either. Is that Beth's father? Is he a boyfriend or a husband? I've never seen a ring on your finger."

"My _daughter_ is the 'someone else', you idiot!"

She hadn't stormed out; I took that as a good sign. And I was so relieved there wasn't another man in the picture that I almost laughed. Instead, I got up and said, "We're going for another drive."

Val's expression was a mix of pissed off and bewildered. "What, right now?"

"Yeah, right now," I answered as Odin and I got up and came toward her. "Show me one of the beaches where he can run around a little bit. Let's go."

Impulsive, you bet, but the two of us yelling at each other in my house wasn't doing any good. I needed to calm down. Snow had that effect on me, but I wouldn't see any for a while. A beach was my alternative. And, believe it or not, I hadn't gone to one yet.

*****

Fifteen minutes later, Val and I sat in the sand while Odin sniffed along the shoreline in front of us. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes; we simply sat next to each other and watched the sun bounce off the gentle waves of Lake Superior.

I was the first to speak, but I kept my eyes on Odin. "Lauren said some nice things about your daughter."

"She's a good teacher, and she'll be a great mom someday. She's a natural with kids; Beth loves her."

There was another pause before I simply asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

She sighed. "I don't know."

Odin started trotting back toward me. "I think you _do_ know, and maybe you don't wanna say it. Did I do or say something to make you not trust me?"

"Maybe... Maybe a little bit. But there's more to it than that, Dan."

I looked at her. "What did I do? Let's start with that." Odin slumped against me.

Val glanced my way, but turned her eyes away just as quickly. "It's not like you did anything bad - sort of the opposite, in fact. Like I said, it's complicated."

Absently rubbing Odin's ear, I took a deep breath and said. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, but apparently I haven't done anything too stupid. I thought... I thought we were able to talk to each other. You know, open and honest? I really liked that we got along so well. It made everything easier. You make my work go smoother, and I'm getting more done. You do a great job keeping my house clean and respectable. You're making the extra money you needed, and we both have a few laughs. It's up to you how much you share with me, but leaving out a daughter? I took that personally, Val."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And we both know there's more going on between us than just getting along well at work. But I can't simply follow my feelings. There's more to consider."

"You mean besides Bethany?"

Val nodded. "She's most of it, but there are other things, too."

I waited for more of an explanation. I didn't get one. "Dammit, Valerie, why won't you talk to me?"

She looked at me and kept her gaze steady. "Because I like you, Dan, and that's only one of the scary parts. I've had some bad luck in the past. I made bad choices. I've let two other men past my guard and into my life. When I had to tell each one of them to leave, Beth was confused, and I was hurt and angry. Angry at them, and angry at myself; I should've known better. I need to protect Beth better. I need to be careful." She looked out to the waves again. "And that's only one thing."

"Well, okay... What else is there?"

"Which part would you like to hear first? How about the shame and betrayal I felt when the selfish coward who got me pregnant eight years ago deserted me during my first trimester, leaving me alone with our child. I felt like the disgrace of my family, especially with my mom."

"That's why you had to drop out of college..."

"Yeah," Val sighed. "He's not a part of Beth's life, and doesn't want to be. He ran off to Duluth; I know because the child support checks come from a bank there. The two boyfriends since then... One of them liked to yell at Beth, and the other didn't give a shit about her."

"Alright, they sound like real assholes, and I'm sorry you had to deal with that. But I didn't do anything to make you distrust me. I didn't even know about your kid until two days ago."

"No, you didn't do anything, but trust doesn't come easy anymore. The thing is... I like working for you, coming to your house, and the extra money helps. Really, though, I like being near you, even when you tune everything else out in your head. Lately I've thought about taking a chance again, but that decision isn't so simple."

I studied the profile of her face for a second. "Thanks for being honest; I know it wasn't easy. You know I like you, too. I liked you before you came to work for me. I can't demand your trust. I need to earn it, and that's the way I'd rather do it. And, yeah, it's kinda awkward to be interested in each other when we're boss and employee, but I hope we can figure something out. If I can, I'd like to make that decision of taking a chance simpler for you."

Val turned in the sand toward me and said, "Besides those other things, you're mostly the problem." She continued before I could protest. "You're a few years younger than me, and you've already got your act together. You're smart, you're driven, and I respect that. So I have doubts that you would really want to get involved with a waitress who's a single mother. I'm not down on myself; I just know dating someone with a kid is intimidating. Still, I didn't say anything about Beth partly because I thought you might judge me. I've had my share of that, but from you... It'd sting."

"Alright, look, I only got upset that you _didn't_ tell me you had a daughter. I'm not bothered at all that you have one. I don't care how different we are; I like you. I'd literally be lost without you. You're clever, you make me smile, and I have trouble not looking at you. I honestly couldn't give a shit that you're a waitress. You could work for the trash company for all I care. I might ask you to shower more often if you did, or maybe spray yourself down with air freshener, but that's it."

Val smiled despite her mood, and then said, "There's still something else, Dan."

"Crap, what else could there be?"

"I warned you it was complicated, didn't I? What if you're not good with kids? What if you don't like them? What if Beth doesn't like you? Put all I've said together, and that's why I didn't tell you. I wanted to, but I thought it'd be simpler to avoid it."

I thought about it, and finally told her, "There's nothin' to do but wait and see. You've got reasons that make you guarded, and I've got no quick fix for 'em. All I can do is keep showing you I'm not an asshole like those other guys were. I'm not backing away. I hope you won't either."

"I don't want to, but Beth... If she -"

"You use that word, 'if', way too much." I blew out a long breath. "Where I lived growing up, I could see weather coming from over half a day away. I couldn't make the rain hold off. I couldn't make the snow get there quicker. I had to get on with chores and just wait. I didn't have a choice, so I learned to just accept it. Maybe that's why I'm impulsive with other stuff I _can_ control; it's like balancing it out."

"Oh great, I'm getting folksy wisdom from down on the ranch."

"Cute, but hear me out, okay? There are things I want, but I don't have any control over 'em. You have choices to make, and you can control that. But your daughter has choices too, and that's something that we can't do a damn thing about, except to be patient."

"I've been on my share of first dates," Val said, looking down and drawing circles in the sand with her finger. "There weren't any second ones after I told them about Beth. Even the two guys I dated, they weren't... Well, I'll just say that understanding and patience are two virtues in men I don't have much faith in anymore."

I shrugged. "Believing me or not is one of those choices for you to make. I can't prove anything unless you let me."

"It's not just about me, though." She lifted her head to look at me and asked, "Are you sure you want this? It's not so simple with a single mother."

"I know what I want. I really want that kiss you denied me. I want to meet Bethany because she's a big part of who you are. I really wanna ask you out on a date, or lots of dates. I'm impatient for those things, but I think they're worth waiting for if I have to."

Val lowered her gaze again, smiling with a rosy blush. "I like the sound of that. I work for you, though, and dating might make things tricky. I don't want to quit; I need the money."

"Screw that, I won't let you quit. Okay, you work for me... So, at work, we just work. Nothing changes. If you agree to go on a date with me, that's a whole different thing. We keep it separate."

"I've never been in this kind of situation before, but I think you're making it sound too easy."

"Hey, I'll try if you will."

"If everything felt right with Beth, then... I'd like that."

"Great, so we'll just stay optimistic, okay?" She nodded. "I'm guessing you have to find a sitter for her when you come to my house, at least during the summer?"

Val nodded. "She stays with a nice lady in my building. I work the breakfast and lunch shifts at Gunnar's on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. I'll work a Tuesday or Thursday dinner shift if they need me, and if I can get my mom to watch Beth. Sundays are just for me and her."

"Alright, then bring her with you until school starts. That's, what, only one more time at my house until then? Fine; if it goes well for everyone, we can work something out. Right now you work for me about four hours a day, twice a week. If you want, you could do Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays for three hours at a time instead. You'd get an extra hour's pay, two hours freed up during the week, and you can bring Bethany on Sundays. That is, if you don't mind sharing a little of your mother-daughter time. Oh, and once Odin got to know her, he'd probably be as protective as you are."

"It might be a bigger step than you think. Are you sure - I mean really sure - about this?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, but you have to want this, too. So, like I said, we'll just be patient and see what comes our way." Then I added, "And I do like kids, just to be clear."

"Well, good; that's one less thing."

"If you wanna try it, I'm all in. It's up to you, Val."

"It might be too soon..." meaning too soon for Bethany to meet me.

"Have you mentioned me to her?"

Val nodded again. "I told her about my other new boss who could speak all sorts of languages and had a big dog. She asked if you were nice like Phil, my manager at Gunnar's."

"I hope you said yes." She just smiled. "Okay, so, I don't think it's too soon. I mean, she'll only be at my place a couple hours a week, and I might be working then anyway. Let her get used to being there, and we'll all find out how well we get along."

"I suppose I could see how things go." After a moment, she put her hand on mine. "There's a lot riding on this Thursday now, you know."

We stood and brushed the sand off our butts, and then we both cleaned Odin off. Val and I started walking back to my SUV when she suddenly turned around with an unreadable expression on her face. "I know I'm still on the clock, but..." She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. Soft, lingering, passionate... She moaned, and I melted.

When we pulled apart, she looked up at me and said, "This might not happen again. That'd be a shame."

I'd been given fair warning.

*****

On Thursday morning, I was sitting out on the front lawn with Odin working on command words. My plan was to introduce Bethany to my dog outside, where he'd be less defensive. Val's car pulled up and I saw her daughter for the first time. Beth was small, but it made sense because Val wasn't tall, either. The color of the little girl's long hair was closer to mine than her mom's, but she had Val's eyes.

Bethany was shy at first, but she warmed up some after Val made introductions and sat down with me and Odin. She seemed wary of my big huskita; he did admittedly have an intense stare. I gave some treats to Beth so she could toss them to him; she relaxed, and even giggled. Odin apparently didn't consider her a threat because when the treats ran out, my damn pushover of a dog rolled onto his side to get his ribs scratched. While Beth was kneeling next to Odin, she looked at him and then at me. "Neat, your eyes almost match," she said, and then asked if my dog knew any tricks.

Inside on the dining room table, Beth saw the stack of classic board games I bought the day before. "Mommy, look, he has Clue!"

"Yeah," I spoke up, "sometimes me and your mom play a game while she's here working."

"We do?" Val asked.

"Yes, we do," I answered pointedly. Then to Beth, I said, "Odin has some toys out on the deck; you can play fetch with him if you want. In a little while, maybe we can play one of those games."

"Actually," Val said, "Beth is going to be my little helper for a while. She's going to dust the tables, and then go water the plants outside."

"Oh, alright; I've gotta go finish some translations." I leaned closer to Val and whispered, "If I'm speaking Icelandic or German when I come back out, please say something so your daughter doesn't think I'm a complete dork, okay?"

"No promises," she whispered back.

That day went well, as far as I knew. Val confirmed it when she called that evening. She and I called each other twice more over the weekend. Tuesday morning came around again; Val and I talked about Beth for a while before we got on with making some money.

A little while later, I stepped out of the office to get some juice. Val was coming down the hallway with folded bathroom towels. We'd caught each other off-guard and stood there staring at each other.

Then we both attacked. I'm not sure how long we were there writhing and pushing each other against the walls as we made out, but it wasn't long enough. Val breathlessly broke our contact and reminded me that we were going to be patient, and that we hadn't even gone on a date yet. I reminded _her_ that she still had her hands on my butt.

*****

A new routine began, and it went on for a couple months. Bethany came over on Sundays, and began to look forward to it. I got one of those kid's tables and put it in the spare room for her to draw or write or whatever. She liked to read, so I kept picking up age-appropriate books every time I went shopping. Val and I slowly changed my unofficial title from "mommy's other boss" to "mommy's friend". Beth had an assignment at school to write about someone she liked, and she chose... Odin.

Through the weeks, Val and I mostly behaved. We quickly learned that we could be easily distracted, so we both worked on the truly shitty concept of self-discipline. She was better at it than I was during work hours, but saying goodbye was a different story. She took an interest in my work, she was good on the translation sites for finding me side-jobs, and she even started learning German again. We worked together like two fitted cogs... except that one of the cogs had a chronic case of blue balls.

Otherwise, I kept myself busy. On the language front, meeting with the old Finn group at least once a week helped me achieve a working proficiency in Finnish; I'd be fully fluent before Noah needed me to be. I was asked to be the subject of a video interview by a reporter from a language website; it went pretty well and was posted on YouTube. I watched it once. That was enough.

As far as machinery and construction went, my two-seater Polaris was rebuilt and in great shape, painted blue with yellow trim; no surprise. It was registered, and I had a permit; all I needed was snow. I built a cement-block pad in the backyard and had a big pre-fab shed placed on it. Rob and I got his old Dodge running, and then we had to fix all the leaks. It needed more work and it still looked like shit, but we were happy with the progress.

Socially, I made some strides. I got to know Bill Olson and his wife Gail, my middle-aged neighbors from across the street. I stopped by Tom's barbershop a couple times, chatting with the old farts there when I did. I don't know that it counts, but I also made some good connections with a couple other translators online. A few times during late September and October, I met up with Val and Beth 'by accident' at Marquette's farmer's market on Saturdays. Beth and I got along well, mostly because she always kicked my butt playing monopoly.

*****

On the last Sunday of October, Val came in my office while I was on a computer. She leaned on the back of my chair. Over my shoulder, she could see that I was typing an email in Swedish.

"I thought you said you were taking the day off," she said.

"I am; this is a note to my cousin Axel."

She put her hands on my shoulders. "Are you about finished? You promised Beth we'd play a game."

I placed one of my hands on hers and kept typing awkwardly with the other. "Almost there." Val leaned over and licked one of my ears. "Stop it," I said with the firmest tone I could muster.

She knew I was full of shit. "This is for feeling me up Thursday right before I left," she whispered.

When her mouth moved down to the side of my neck, I commented with a moan, "You're always the one reminding me about patience..."

"This _is_ patient." Then she pulled away. "Now hurry up; I think Beth has some questions for you before we get into a game. We're playing 'Sorry' this time."

"What questions?" I asked, swiveling my chair around.

"I guess you'll have to find out for yourself," she answered with a knowing, dimpled grin as she turned to leave. "Don't take too long. I promised to take Beth shopping in a while."

Two minutes later, I walked out to the living room where Beth was setting up a board game on my big coffee table. Val sat on the couch next to Odin with a slight grin on her face.

Beth saw me and jumped up. "I'll get the snacks!"

I put my hand out and said, "No. Stay. Sit."

When I came back from the kitchen with the bags of apple and banana chips, Beth complained, "You talk to me like you talk to Odin."

"Well, maybe I should," I replied as I sat on the floor across the table from her. "You both have bright eyes, you both have thick hair, and you're both kinda scary."

Beth continued to set up the game pieces, but slowly; she had something on her mind. She looked at me and asked, "Dan, do you like my mom?"

"Well, sure I do. I wouldn't let her in my house if I didn't."

"Not like that, silly. Like, boy-girl like. Like if you sent her a Valentine's card."

"Oh, like that. Hmm, is it okay if I say yes?"

"Yeah, that's okay. Mommy said you make her smile. Does she make you smile?"

I nodded and glanced at Val; she was looking back at me with a wider grin and pink cheeks. "She makes me smile a lot, almost as much as you do."

Beth grinned and pulled more pieces out of the box. "Here, you can be blue. I know you like that color. Can I ask you some other stuff?"

Sometimes I wondered how that kid's mouth kept up with her brain. It was cute, though. "Sure."

"When it snows, can I go for a ride on your snowmobile?"

"Uh, I'm not sure." I turned to Val. "Can she?"

She sighed. "Only if you hold on tight, and we'll have to get you a helmet." She caught my eye and mouthed, _'those are expensive'_.

I mouthed back, _'I got it'_.

"Cool! Can I get a yellow one?"

"Only if you get an A on your next math test," I said. "Now what else is on your mind?"

"I'm getting a Halloween costume today. Should I be a fairy or a witch?"

"Oh, a fairy for sure; witches are ugly. Can we play now?"

Beth ignored my question and asked another one of her own. "Will you go trick-or-treating with us?"

That simple question meant a lot. "You bet, but I'm not gonna dress up, okay?" She nodded. "I wanna ask you something now. Is it alright if I ask your mom out on a date, just me and her? If we go out again after that, I want you to go too, okay?"

"Can we go see a movie, and get popcorn?"

"Well, yeah, you can't go see a movie without popcorn. I think it's a law."

"Okay," Beth agreed without hesitation, and then moved on. "I'll be yellow, and here, Mommy, you can be red this time."

I couldn't stop smiling throughout the game. I think Val had the same problem.

*****

Flurries fell on Halloween day and into the evening; I had no problem with the weather, but I wondered if Beth would want to be out in for very long. I went to Val's apartment building for the first time and was invited in during the middle of a wardrobe adjustment.

Beth's yellow and orange fairy costume was thin, so she had to wear a coat because of the cold. The elastic straps of her flimsy wings were being pulled over it. Val also had dressed her daughter in snow boots, stocking cap, gloves, and leggings under the knee-length skirt. I almost asked why Beth was wearing a costume in the first place, but I kept my mouth shut.

At this point I should mention colors. Beth liked yellow at the time, and she had new yellow gloves that matched her fairy costume. Sometime not too long before then, though, she liked purple. Val, trying to be a good mother, bought clothes in that color for her. So, other than the bright costume, Beth wore purple leggings and a stocking cap of the same color. Her boots and coat were deep lavender. On her back was a small set of sparkly gold wings. My eyes had to adjust.

When Beth ran to her room to get her candy pail, Val quietly asked me, "What do you think?"

The words just fell out of my mouth. "She looks like a bruise."

Not too many kids were out in their older neighborhood, or in the small downtown district where some store owners handed out candy, so Beth was stuffing her coat pockets by the end. When we got back to Val's place, I was given the hard candy and granola bars. Beth also let me take a Kit Kat.

Val and I sat on her couch and talked about our date for the following evening. She said she was fine with ordering a pizza, but I wanted to show her off. Besides, neither of us had gone out for a nice meal in a long time. We agreed on an Italian restaurant. I suggested picking her up at seven; she countered with five. I got goodbye hugs from her and Beth before I left.

My dinner with Val the next evening was charged with sexual tension. We both knew what was going to happen. The meal was great and Val's company was even better; we talked and laughed like old friends. She looked beautiful, and I tried to compliment her in my clumsy way. We enjoyed ourselves, not just passing the time until we went back to my house. In the end, though, I think we were just balancing the scales. And by that I mean we shared a romantic dinner before we screwed like wild animals.

Val was initially nervous because, in her words, "I haven't done this in a long time". She could've fooled me. We spent the rest of the evening physically exploring each other, experimenting to find out what each of us liked, and having a _very_ good time. The last thing I'd call Valerie is a selfish prude. She couldn't stay the night, but she went home very late. I didn't feel guilty at all.

*****

Some nice additions were added to the ongoing routine. First, Val was at my house on Tuesdays and Thursdays for four hours, but only worked for three. I don't need to state the obvious. Second, Saturday afternoons and/or evenings became date days with Val and Beth. Third, the first good snow hit the area in early November; Odin and I were in our element and out in it as much as possible. Since all of us could fit on my sled, game time on Sunday mornings was replaced with snowmobile trail runs.

Val and Beth started staying later on Sundays. They both liked football and hockey, which made me only crazier about them. Like most other yoopers, though, they were big Packers and Red Wings fans. We made bets for whenever their teams were going to play my Vikings or Wild. I didn't plan on winning.

Andrea and Scott came up from Milwaukee for Thanksgiving. Odin didn't want to let them in at first. Mom wasn't too happy about us not coming back to the ranch for the holiday, so we compromised by keeping Skype open while we all ate. I didn't do too bad cooking my bird, either. Val was spending that day with her family, so my sis got to meet her and Beth the day after. They got along well enough to make fun of me and become Facebook friends, if that means anything.

My company left for home the next day, so I had time to psyche myself up for that evening's event. I was going to meet Val's family, and had bravely invited them all out to dinner. I made a reservation at a local brewery/steakhouse for the big group - Val's parents, her older sister Jess, her younger brother Ben and his wife Faye, and of course granny Aila. Meeting them was at Val's request. I just wanted to make a good first impression.

Val had told me a little about the other Maki's who were invited. Her dad Lukas was stern and had a very dry sense of humor. Val's mom Rose could be direct and opinionated; sounded like my mom. I knew Aila was a sweet old lady, so no worries there. Ben was an avid outdoorsman and a good brother; Faye was quiet and polite. Finally, I was reminded that Jessica was a moron, and it was advised to block her out during any extended conversation or else my forehead would start sloping.

*****

We all sat at a large round table next to a picture window, giving a decent view of Lake Superior and the lighthouse. Val whispered a reminder for me to speak English. She sat on my right, and her brother Ben on my left. He was a short, burly guy who started chatting with me as soon as we all sat down. He and I talked about hunting while our orders were taken. Other than introductions, only Ben and granny Aila had really spoken to me thus far. The word 'awkward' fit.

When appetizers and salads were pretty much finished, Val's dad Lukas abruptly said to me, "I hear you work for yourself as a translator - languages and whatnot. Much call for dat around here?"
Before I could answer, Val's mom piped up. "Can't be steady pay, can it?" It wasn't a question. "And small businesses are so risky."

"Jeez, Mom..." Val moaned.

"Uh..." I turned to her dad first. "No sir, but where I'm at doesn't matter. I don't need to be near my clients. All I need is the internet, really, so I can live wherever I choose. I moved out here because I liked everything about it."

"For your information, Mom," Val said defensively, "Dan is very successful. He has -"

"Dan's snowmobile is cool," Beth interjected with a smile. "He let me drive it and everything."

That earned me a hard stare from Val's dad. Before he could make a comment, though, Jess asked, "Is Mexican one of the languages you can talk?"

I blinked, speechless. Lukas saved me from saying something I shouldn't. "What do your parents do?"

"I come from a ranching family, sir, out in North Dakota."

"Nice, eh," Ben said. "How many acres dey got?"

"About three thousand, but -"

"If you don't know Mexican, you should probably learn it," Jess blurted, stuck on her own topic. "I think a lot of people talk it now. Last week in Walmart, I heard two Mexicans talking - probably foreigners, but they wore regular clothes. They were tiny fellas, like those horse riders in the Kentucky Bowl. They were making all these little noises back and forth," she wiggled her fingers to help with the explanation. "I couldn't make out a word, not 'taco' or 'tequila' or anything." I lowered my head; Val stifled her laugh. "They were jabbering on so fast, I thought their lips were going to catch fire!"

Jess laughed at her own story. Everyone else the table was silent; maybe they were stunned like I was. Thank God the meals started being served right then.

Lukas looked across the table at Aila and said in Finnish, _"Mother, you said you know this young man. What do you think of him?"_

_"I think many things,"_ she replied in the same language while she put a napkin on her lap. _"I think you would know what I think if you called more often. I think I'm glad that I didn't try to introduce him to this one,"_ gesturing at Jess. _"I think he is quite taken with Valerie and Bethany by the way he talks of them. Daniel is a fine man."_ Aila paused for a moment, and then added, _"I also think he speaks Finnish better than you do, so maybe you should take your foot out of your mouth and eat your fish."_

Lukas looked at me, surprised. In Finnish, I quietly said to him, _"Your meal looks delicious."_ Then I gave my own food my undivided attention.

Val leaned toward me and whispered, "What was that about? I couldn't keep up with most of it."

"Nothing bad; I'll tell you about it later."

Only a few bites into my meal, Ben and I were discussing rifles when Rose suddenly asked me from across the table, "Dan, how many years younger are you than Valerie?"

Ben and his dad frowned at her. Val coughed. I tried to put on a smile and replied, "Well, since I plan on being immature for the rest of my life, it doesn't really matter." Val squeezed my thigh under the table.

Val's mom pressed on. "What do your parents think about... all this?" I could tell by her judgmental tone that she meant what my folks thought about me dating a single mother, and applying her own critical view. She said this about, and in front of, her own _daughter_. Luckily, Beth was too young to catch the social nuance of her grandma being a bitch. If Rose were a guy, I would've punched him in the face.

"Rose, maybe you should focus on inhaling for a while," Aila said with a disapproving tone.

"I don't see the harm in asking," she stated innocently.

I took a deep breath and looked over at Val, who was miserably picking at her food with a fork. "Would you mind taking Beth to the restroom for a minute?" She nodded, relieved to get away from the table. Beth had to go anyway; that girl always had to go.

"I think I'll go with you," Faye said.

"Do I need to go, too?" Jess asked no one in particular. We ignored her.

After Val, Beth and Faye were out of sight, I spoke to everyone else still seated. "I'm gonna clear some things up. I wanted to make a good first impression here tonight, but now I couldn't give a shit." I kept my eyes on Rose for the rest of it. "I like everything about Val. The fact that she has a kid only makes me like her more, and I'm crazy about Beth. And for the record, my family can't wait to meet them. I hoped this would all go smoothly tonight, at least for Val's sake. If not, well, I left my give-a-damn at home. None of this is your call, and your opinion isn't worth a steamy crap. If you're offended, then leave; I'm paying for all this anyway. You're welcome."

Sometimes the result of me not having much of a filter felt pretty good. Rose went pale. Next to me, Ben chuckled. Lukas studied me for a few seconds, and then went back to eating his meal. Jess asked, "What did _I_ do? This isn't about the Mexicans, is it?" I ignored her, keeping my non-sloping forehead intact.

"That's one thing I admired about you from the start," Aila said to me. "You were never afraid to be honest. I'm happy you and Valerie found each other... not that what I say means a steamy crap."

We shared a smile, and I didn't feel so tense. As Val, Beth and Faye returned to the table, Rose excused herself to go freshen up. Val sat and gave me a questioning look.

"Valerie," her dad said, "Dan has my blessing to marry you."

"What!?" she shrieked.

Ben and Aila had belly laughs. Faye and Lukas were smiling. Jess looked confused. Beth scooted off her chair and came over to me. "Are you gonna marry my mom?" she asked excitedly.

"Go on dere, Dan," Lukas said, "be honest."

He had a good poker face, but I knew he was enjoying himself. The rest of the dinner went very well, especially since Rose and Jess didn't say much more. Lukas shook my hand, thanked me on behalf of his family for the nice meal, and suggested we get a beer sometime. Ben invited me to go hunting. Aila gave me a short hug and a peck on the cheek. On the way out, Beth asked me to put her on my shoulders like I did when we walked around the farmer's markets. I couldn't say no to that kid.

*****

A few days later, Val asked her brother if he'd watch Beth overnight sometime; we wanted to spend an actual night together. Ben and Faye were happy to oblige. I wondered if I was going to like sharing my bed; I'd never done it with someone I really cared about before. Back in Fargo, the few times I did have a girl over for a night felt like an inconvenience. I never said I was romantic.

With Val, though, it was the opposite. I wanted her there, wanted her to stay. It wasn't about the sex. Don't get me wrong, that was great - especially without any time constraints - but it wasn't the best part for me. I fell asleep smiling with her curled up next to me, and woke up pretty much the same way. Even before we left to go pick up Beth, I was greedy to have Val stay over more often. I worked up the courage to say so, and was relieved to hear she felt the same.

Beth's birthday was in mid-December. She seemed thrilled with the craft and jewelry kits I got for her. While she was out in her grandparent's living room showing all the gifts to her aunt Faye, Val and I sat in the kitchen and talked about Christmas. She knew I was heading to the ranch for the holiday, and that she and Beth were invited. She wanted to go, but thought that having a long-overdue chat with her family (meaning her mom) was more important. I couldn't argue with that.

Val countered by asking if the invitation to Andrea's wedding was still on the table. My sister planned her wedding for mid-April, and was going to have the ceremony at the ranch. I though Fargo was more logical since Scott's family lived there and the city had actual hotels, but I guess no one had a problem with it. And a bride gets what she wants. I told Val I'd be happy to have her there with me, but not to get any ideas. I added that if she turned out to be a natural with cows, I'd hate her forever.

As soon as I received my certificate of fluency in Finnish, I sent a copy to Noah's office at Skanska. He soon after sent back some initial schematics and materials lists for me to translate into Finnish and a few other languages. I knocked it out and sent it back. The reply to that was another lengthy contract at a much better rate than my current one with them. I danced in my chair a little.

*****

In the early morning of December 23rd, Odin and I left for North Dakota. Val, Beth and I opted to have our own Christmas when I got back a few days later. With the smaller highways I took, I made good time with low traffic and no cops. Including the few stops for me and my dog to stretch our legs, we made it to Tioga in just over eleven hours.

Nothing much had changed at the Rylander Ranch. Everyone was healthy and in good spirits. There was a huge Christmas tree in the front room, just like always. I played with Pete's kids. Jake and Megan hadn't been able to conceive yet; Grandpa Eli teased that Jake's soldiers wouldn't march. I had a few phone calls with Val and Beth. A fresh fracking site had been tapped way out on the leased land. Gifts were given on Christmas morning after breakfast; the big world map from Grandpa was my favorite. Mom tried to over-feed me. Dad put me to work. The frickin' cows still ignored me.

I actually enjoyed shopping for the gifts I gave to Val and Beth. I went over to her apartment the day after I got back, and had one big box for each of them. Val and I hadn't given ideas of what to get each other, so I kinda ran with it. Rob and Lauren had been giving me gift ideas since before Thanksgiving. Some of what I had in mind were clothes, so I snuck peeks at labels of stuff Val and Beth wore when I could. My aim was to make them smile. Maybe I went a little overboard.

Val gave me a gift before she and Beth opened theirs. It was a watch with a blue leather band, and the face was the Swedish flag. I'd seen watches like it before when I browsed for other Sweden stuff, but never ordered one. Val knew I needed a watch, too. It was awesome.

Beth's present was the bigger of the two I brought. She ripped through my crappy wrap-job and got to the box. Inside was a pair of insulated slush boots, yellow and black. Next to that was a winter coat of matching colors. She was thrilled with those, and then found out the coat was wrapped around another box. It was one of those big art kits for kids. When Beth opened it to look at the supplies, she also found her last gift: a new iPod. I got a screaming hug; sort of a mixed blessing.

"Dan," Val whispered, "don't you think all that was a bit much? None of it is cheap."

"If that's how you feel, maybe you shouldn't open yours."

She scowled at me. "What did you do?"

I shrugged and smiled. In Val's box was a green (her favorite color) winter coat. There was nothing else in the box; she looked relieved. When she tried it on, she found small boxes in the pockets and she gave me that scowl again. I'd separated the matching set of peridot earrings and pendant, set in white gold (I knew she had a skin reaction to silver). The gems matched her eyes.

I could tell by Val's gasping reaction that she loved them, but then she suddenly said to me, "No, you have to take these back."

"Uh, no I don't."

"Dan, it's too much."

"Not really, Val. It's just more than you're used to being given, which is, what, nothing? Even when any one of those... jerks (Beth was within earshot) was in the picture, I bet none of 'em treated you like you deserved. You _do_ deserve this... and a whole lot more. So, please, enjoy it. Oh, and wear them this weekend when I take you and Beth out for some fine dining. I wanna see you girls all dressed up."

"That's a really nice offer, but you've done too much already. I - I can't -"

"I get to wear fancy clothes?" Beth asked fast and loud, like I just promised her a puppy. "I have to go pick out a dress!" She ran off toward her room.

"It's too cold for a dress!" Val called out, but it was too late.

"There, see?" I said with a cheesy grin. "It's all settled."

Val stared daggers at me. "Fine, we'll go now because of Beth, but this is far from settled."

"You're not gonna withhold sex or something, are you?"

She made a scoffing noise and said, "I'm not forfeiting orgasms just because you're using dirty tactics to get what you want. That's how I get half of my orgasms in the first place."

Beth came back out from her bedroom and hurried over to their small Christmas tree. She picked up a small box and brought it to me. "I almost forgot. This is for you."

Inside was a friendship bracelet she'd made from the kit I gave her. It was two different shades of blue with a yellow diamond pattern. Beth and Val helped me tie a knot and trim the strings. "That was only the second one I made," Beth told me. Val was wearing the first one. "Do you like it?"

"It's the best gift I've ever gotten." I wasn't lying.

*****

I was back over at Val's for New Year's Eve. Beth was allowed to stay up with us until midnight, but she was out like a light before ten. We put her to bed and stayed up talking about our families. She wanted me to stay the night, but was worried that it might be too soon to have Beth find me in her mom's bed in the morning. We compromised; I slept on the couch.

The soft calling of my name woke me up. I opened my eyes and saw Beth's face six inches from mine in the dark. I didn't know what time it was, but dawn hadn't come yet. "What's wrong, sugar?" I groggily asked, not quite awake yet.

"I had a bad dream. I was gonna sleep with mommy and you, but you weren't there."

I didn't think much about it right then. I picked up Beth and carried her into Val's bedroom. We got under the covers and went right back to sleep. A couple hours later I woke up and found that I'd become part of a Maki sandwich; Beth on my left and Val on my right. I didn't want to get up, but I had Odin to consider. Val rubbed her hand across my chest. I turned my head and saw her looking at me with a sleepy smile. "Looks like Beth made a decision," she whispered.

*****

Two days after New Year's, my cousin Vik called me. He'd gotten a promotion at Alfa Laval and was overseeing a new patented parts line. It wasn't extensive, but it was his. The good news for me was that there was going to be an international demand for it, and he'd named me as the line's translator. That meant documents, brochures, magazine ads, and engineering press releases, each in multiple languages. Plus, there'd be a few scheduled calls needing an interpreter. My family is so damn awesome.

On a Thursday in mid-January, Val told me that she had to leave after her 'official' three-hour shift was over; something about errands to run. I was completely absorbed with my work that morning and barely registered her statement. A while after she was gone, I got up to let Odin out. The handle of the sliding glass door was smeared with Vaseline. Alright, she got me. A few minutes later, I found out that the fridge handle had been coated as well... and the doorknob to the garage... and the toilet seat.

Not too long after those fun little discoveries, I learned how busy Val had kept herself that morning while I was in a lingo fog. My bottles of apple juice in the fridge had been emptied and replaced with an altogether different and disgusting liquid of the same color. I found out later it was mixture of flat Sprite and soy sauce. Clever girl.

When I called Val that afternoon to thank her for the pranks and say I was glad her revenge was out of the way, she laughed and said, "Not by a longshot, sweetie." I got a little paranoid.

I turned on my TV later and quickly realized that Val had set the parental controls, only allowing me access to kiddie programs and Spanish-speaking channels. I called her again, insisting she give me the password. She said she forgot it.

That evening, I was in no mood to cook dinner. I opened the microwave door to throw in a couple burritos, and about a hundred ping pong balls came pouring out of it. I just stood there watching them bounce all over the kitchen. That night before bed, I realized that my toothbrush had been dunked in maple syrup. After I cleaned the bristles and brushed my teeth for the third time, I began plotting some good-natured retaliation.

Val's birthday is in early February (I wrote the date down). It fell on a Sunday that year, so, I made plans for one day earlier. My idea took some finagling and money, but the effort was worth it. I talked to Phil, Val's manager at Gunnar's, about what I wanted to do. He was all for it. Saturday mornings were always busy at Gunnar's, but I had two large tables reserved. Guests were invited. Everything was set.

Ever since New Year's, I'd been keeping Beth on Saturdays. We always had a good time shopping or on the snowmobile or playing in the snow with Odin. Anyway, Beth was with me when we showed up unexpectedly and surprised her mom. Val was even more surprised when most of her family came in and sat down with me at one of the big tables. Granny Aila, some the old Finn group, and Rob and Lauren sat at the other one near ours. I wanted everyone to see this.

Val was suspicious and questioned us while she took our drink orders. She didn't see the two costumed singing telegram people come up behind her. One was a pot-bellied moose, and the other was a bright yellow chicken. They started singing and dancing and embarrassing the shit out of her. Phil hurried out with a barstool and made her sit. The chicken got other patrons involved with singing birthday songs while the moose danced in circles around her. It was hilarious. Val was mortified. I had my vengeance.

*****

On Valentine's Day, Val and I had an argument. I was frustrated because we didn't have many chances to spend the night together. Up until then, she'd spent one night at my house. I'd stayed over at her place a handful of times, but sometimes I had to leave very early for overseas phone calls. Not only that, I wasn't fond of leaving Odin alone overnight.

"I told you from the start this was complicated, Dan. There are three people in this, not two," Val said from the other end of my couch.

"Why are you getting mad that I wanna figure out a better way? Or is this how you like it? Do you want to keep me at a certain distance because you're still not sure about me?"

"No, that's not it at all! Don't put words in my mouth."

"Sometimes I have to pull 'em out because you _still_ don't always say what's on your mind! I've known you for six months, Val, and we've been dating for three. Maybe it's too soon for you to wanna make some changes."

"I have more to think about than you, Dan. I'm sorry if taking care of my daughter is inconvenient!"

"Don't pull that shit; you know how I feel about Beth." I took a deep breath. "You know what, maybe I'm being impatient. I'll just back off."

Her tone changed. "What does that mean? Are you talking about... us?"

"No! All I mean is that I'm gonna have to accept the way things are. I don't want to, but I don't have a choice if you won't budge on this."

"What do you want me to do?! Beth comes first, and you know that! I'm always on the move, taking her to the sitter, or to my parent's house, or to some appointment. I come here and work and spend time with you, and I look forward to every one of those days. But then I have to run home or to the restaurant and then go pick up Beth. I have to cook her meals and keep my place clean, too. I can't ignore any of those things, Dan! I want more time for us, too, but I don't have any!"

"Then dammit, just move in here with me."

That shut her up. It kinda shut me up, too.

"That's... that's a big step. Maybe you should make sure it's not one of your impulses."

"Alright, well... no, I didn't think of this beforehand. But is it such a bad idea?"

"It would make things easier, but..." She shook her head.

The more I thought about it, the more I was glad I said it. "Look, Beth wouldn't need a sitter anymore with me here. I can help with meals, as long as you don't sabotage the kitchen again. You'd have one less place to clean, and there's a lot more room here than in your little apartment. Hell, I could even have the basement finished for whatever we want. It's already stubbed for a bathroom anyway. Beth would have a bigger bedroom and a yard to play in. Your rent and utility bills would be gone, and you wouldn't have to fill up on gas near as often. And I get to be with both of you all the time."

"Dan, you're talking about a huge commitment. This would be a big change for all of us."

"I get it, Val. You're worried about if you and Beth move in, and then things go sour. What do most couples fight about? Money is one thing, right?"

Val nodded. "And time... and sex."

"We wouldn't have to worry about any of that! You know I'm doing pretty well, and your income would only make things easier. We'd obviously have more time together, and more time for just us. Besides being alone when we can, I bet we could slip in quickies every once in a while. It'll be fun."

"Don't joke about this. It's a big deal - a serious deal. Not only on my side, but on yours too; you've never lived with anyone before. Our being here full-time would change everything you're used to. No more bachelor lifestyle, no more doing what you want whenever you want to."

"Eh, I could use some structure," I said with a shrug.

She was getting aggravated. "Dan, this means a hell of a lot more responsibility for you. What if you end up not liking it? I don't want you eventually resenting me and Beth for being here."

I stared at her for a second. "Damn, Valerie, if you don't wanna do this, then just say so."

"Dan, what I want is only part of it. I have Beth, which means I'm used to a lack of privacy and personal space. You're not. I realize I'd - we'd - be taking those things away from you. That makes me nervous; I don't want to do anything that would hurt you, or make you stop liking me."

"Well, I'm way past that, Val. I love you."

She looked like she just had a diarrhea cramp. It wasn't encouraging. "You've never said that before."

I was hoping that Val might say "I love you, too", or at least a smile or a hug or something. Instead, I got the deer-in-the-headlights stare. "Yeah, well, being the only one of us who has, I'm starting to feel pretty damn stupid that I did!"

Her eyes instantly welled up and she made a little shuddering sob noise. Dammit.

I scooted over right next to Val and pulled her into my arms just as she started a full-on cry. I realized she was staining one of my favorite t-shirts, but I didn't care at the moment. I'd make her feel bad for it later. Somewhere in the middle of the sniffles and weeping, I heard Val's muffled voice say into my chest, "I'm scared."

I'd forgotten what she'd been through. No, not really forgotten, but I egotistically thought that I would make her forget the other men in her past. I honestly believed my love for her and Beth would do that. Yeah, egotistic and stupid; having your trust broken again and again can't ever be completely forgotten. And only some of it was caused by assholes. The rest of Val's fear and insecurity came from every single frown and hurtful word her mother gave her after Val got pregnant. I felt like a selfish prick.

Odin came around the coffee table and tried to lick Val's face. He was doing a better job of calming her down than I was. I stood her up with me, helped wipe away her tears, and held her at arm's length. "Okay," I said, "you need time to think. You've got all the time in the world, and I'll be right here when you've made up your mind. Talk to your dad, talk to your friends, talk to Andrea. Hell, you can even call my mom and talk to her if you want. You can do a background check on me for all I care."

Val smiled for a second as she wiped her eyes again. "I already did that."

"Alright, I guess I can't blame you there. You still need to sort things out, though. Beth is a part of all this, so you need to talk to her, too."

She looked up at me and said, "I need time, so I might take this Tuesday off."

What she said bothered me. It hurt to think she needed so much time to decide if I was worth it. "Okay," I replied after a few seconds, "do what you need to do." At that moment, I just wanted to be alone. "You should get home. You've had a proper Valentine's Day. I've fed you a very nice dinner, if I do say so. I've given you the stereotypical gifts. I even slow-danced with you to that crappy song you like." I grabbed her coat off the peg and helped her slip into it. "Get your candy and your flowers. It's still snowing, so text me that you made it home safe." I kissed her, and then opened the front door.

Val picked up her roses and box of chocolates, and then stepped up close to me. "Dan, I feel like you're angry. I didn't want that."

"No, I'm not angry." Hurt and disappointed, yes, but not angry. "I meant every word I said, and I'll be right here. You let me know what you want, and what Beth wants, when you know for sure. But for now, I'm calling the shots, and I'm telling you to go home. Goodnight."

*****

The next morning, I drove the snowmobile over to Rob and Lauren's. While Rob was out having fun on my sled, I sat in their kitchen and asked Lauren if - or how bad - I screwed things up. I wanted a woman's opinion, and wasn't ready to admit to my sister how selfish and thoughtless I was. I didn't give details of Val's past; I only said that she'd been hurt before and had trust issues. I said nothing about the parts that cut me pretty deep.

Lauren fed me bacon, mentioned that she noticed how happy Val made me, and then politely told me that I was in fact selfish and thoughtless. "Then again," she said, sipping her coffee, "you did make some good, logical arguments. How sure are you about inviting a mother and daughter into your home?"

"I know this would work out, not a doubt in my mind."

"Rob and I lived together before we got married. I loved the idea of being with him all the time, but I wasn't prepared for the little realities. We both had to adjust."

"What sort of 'little realities'?" Those words concerned me.

"Hmm, let's see... Sharing or dividing chores, the toilet lid war, cosmetics all over the sink, stealing the covers, procrastination, farting, less personal space - all sorts of daily habits we took for granted."

What Lauren said made me take account of my routines. If Val moved in with me, I'd have to make a better effort not to be a slob. If I was going to be the man she and Beth deserved, I'd have to learn to be more patient. If I was going to make the relationship work in any event, I might have to swallow some of my pride; I had trouble with that. Then I realized that I'd become the one who used 'if' too much.

I was typing out a Russian translation the following Monday morning when my doorbell rang. Val stood at my front door, shivering. I didn't expect to see or hear from her until Thursday, if then. "What are you doing here?" I asked, curious.

"I thought you... might be happy to see me. You don't look happy."

"Come in." She took off her coat and sat on the couch. I sat in my recliner across from her. "Why aren't you at Gunnar's?"

"I took the shift off."

"You're startin' to make a bad habit of missing work."

"I needed to talk to you, Dan."

"Pardon me for not getting thrilled about that. The last time we talked, you kind of kicked me in the balls a couple times. I know you didn't mean to, but I sure didn't feel special by the time you left."

Val looked down at her hands. "I know. I mean, I didn't at the time, but Sara (her best friend) pointed it out to me later on. I still came here hoping I'd see your smile when you opened your door, but deep down I knew better." She took a deep breath and asked, "Does this mean you've changed your mind?"

"No, but that doesn't mean I'm very happy right now. I've done some thinking, too. I sprung a big choice on you and expected an answer; that wasn't fair of me. I told you how I felt; you started crying, and not the good kind. I'm waiting for the verdict on the most important thing in my life, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. For a guy like me, that really sucks."

"I know; I know it does. It's just... Your offer scared the hell out of me. I was touched... and terrified. I didn't react well. All sorts of questions and stupid fears came flooding in on me."

"I understand, Val. I made some old wounds flare up. So if you're here just to explain, there's no need."

"I came here to talk to you about more than that. I wanted to make my own suggestion, and see how you felt about it. I also came to apologize, both for making you wait for me to get my thoughts straight, and for not... for when you said..."

"Val, if you don't feel the same, then... you don't. I don't want you feeling guilty about it, and I sure as hell don't want you saying anything you don't mean."

Val was about to reply, but then paused. She finally said, "Please come sit next to me. Please?" I went over and reclined on the middle cushion. She scooted close, took a deep breath, and started to smile when she said. "I love you, Dan," with a breathy whisper.

"Val, if you're saying that b -"

"I'm saying it because it's true, and I should've said it sooner. I love you, Dan, and I know exactly when I fell in love with you: Saturday, January 10th, about 3 p.m."

I sat up straight. "Holy crap, you remember the time and date?"

"I won't ever forget it. I finished my shift at Gunnar's and came here. No one was inside when I came in. I glanced at the wall clock before I went and looked out back. You and Beth and Odin were playing in the snow, laughing and jumping into the drifts. Do you remember that day?"

"Yeah, I do. We had a lot of fun."

"You looked over and saw me watching, and you smiled. That's when it hit me; that's when I knew, right before Beth and Odin tackled you. I knew I loved you then, and I hid it because I was afraid. Every day you prove to me that I shouldn't be, but some bones are tough to bury. Do you know what I mean?"

I nodded, and then I kissed her. When I pulled back, I said, "Okay honey, I'm in a much better mood now. What's this suggestion you wanna run by me?"

"I'd like to try trial runs. You know, like some couples live together for a week or so to see how it feels before they move in together? Staying over for a week all at once won't really work for me; I wouldn't feel very comfortable uprooting Beth like that."

"Sure, I can see that. So...?"

"So, what if I come over on Saturdays like normal, but I stay until Sunday evenings? We keep it mostly the same. I drop Beth off here in the morning, I get out of work in the afternoon, but then she and I stay 'til the next evening. She called the idea 'sleepovers'. We'll do this until both of us know what to expect, and until I can... get past myself." She paused for a breath. "What do - what do you think?"

"Beth likes this idea?"

Val smiled. "Not as much as wanting me and her to move in with you permanently. I had to stop her from packing everything. She adores you. So," she nervously asked again, "is this okay?"

"I, uh... I feel the same way Beth does, but I understand. Thank you for taking a chance on me."

Val's hug knocked me back against the arm of the couch, and we mumbled soft words into each other's necks. When she lifted herself off me, I asked, "Not to be a pig, but... can we get naked?"

Her lips curled into a devilish grin. "I didn't miss work just to talk."

*****

Okay, so there were some adjustments to make but they were no big deal, especially with how happy I was to have Val and Beth there for 'sleepovers'. I bought a new twin bed for Beth and put it in the spare room; I let her pick out her own sheets and blanket. I didn't have many toiletries, so making room was easy. I lied to Val about something - just a little thing. I made a nice sign in Nordic runes and hung it in the living room. I told her it meant _'Welcome all who enter'_. It actually said _, 'Put it where it belongs'_. The reminder was a big help; Val noticed and thanked me for the effort.

Val's brother Ben invited us to hang out with him at the U.P. 200 dogsled race. I'd heard about it, but never gave it much thought. The race always starts in downtown Marquette at midnight on a Friday; Val had to decline because she had to be up early the next day. I went. Half the town must've been out there in the snow, lining the six or so blocks from where the teams started from. I met with Ben near the courthouse. His dad Lukas and uncle Otto were there with him. They had a thermos of hot cider for me, and we all had a pretty fun time. So did everyone around us; it felt like a relaxed party.

Oh, and everyone who whines that running sled dogs is abuse can kiss my ass. Not only are those dogs bred to endure cold and long-distance running, they enjoy it. The teams were howling their impatience to start. They had to be held back so they wouldn't take off early. Those dogs reminded me of Odin, but half the size. I was never sure why yoopers made such a big deal about dogsled races, but I guess it was as good a reason as any to drink.

With every sleepover, I felt more at ease. Val seemed to be overcoming her fears. She and I would stay up late talking about everything and anything; she held back less and less. Beth was happy at my place, and never wanted to go home on Sundays. One time, I came out of my office saying words in Estonian to myself (I'll explain that in a minute). Beth was at the other end of the hallway with a puzzled expression, but then it turned into a grin. She said it sounded cool, and asked me to say more. That was a neat thing: I could be a dork around her, and she thought it was neat.

As for me learning Estonian, that was work-related. I'll skip all the bullshit and just say that I got my foot in the door of Caterpillar Inc. as a freelance translator for five of their European factories. I was told that learning Estonian would only raise my stock with them. The language was very similar to Finnish, so I already understood the basics of it. I had my next hobby.

*****

On a Tuesday in mid-March, Val and I were showering together after sex when she asked, "Can I bother you for a little favor sometime soon?"

"Let me guess. You need to borrow ping pong balls. It just so happens I have a box of 'em down in the basement. If you want some Vaseline too, you're on your own; I'm not that kinky, honey."

She chuckled as she rinsed her hair. "Not gonna forget those pranks, are ya?"

"Nope," I said as we switched places with some groping involved. "The pranks I had to deal with when I was a kid involved spit, boogers, and manure. _Your_ pranks made me laugh."

"I can try harder..."

I didn't want to tempt Val to do just that, so I changed the subject. "What was the favor?"

"I was wondering if you'd help Beth and I move out of my apartment."

My heart began to hammer. I stared at the tiles for a second, and then turned to face her. "Found a new place, huh?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Uh huh, I'm moving in with some other guy," she answered playfully. "Oh, didn't I tell you? Sorry."

I didn't have the patience to keep up the banter. I hugged Val so hard I thought she might protest, but she didn't. "It'll be great, I promise," I said into her wet hair. She held me tighter in response. I'd found the woman who accepted me for all my weirdness, a beautiful mother of a beautiful child who had my trust and my heart. She was sexy as hell, too, so that helped. Needless to say, Val left late that day.

A reputable local home construction company was called that afternoon. I contracted them to turn my basement into living space, and to follow the basic layout I'd come up with. I also told them I wanted the work crew to stop by two p.m. every day; I didn't want anything messing with my 'family' time.

Over half of Val's stuff went into storage until the basement was finished. Everything else took a few trips to get to my place. I replaced what was in poor condition; Val protested, but she couldn't deny that things like Beth's dresser were pieces of shit. I was surprised with how many toys Beth had, and then shocked to find out that most of them came from "Grandma Rose". Rose may have disapproved of Val, but she doted on her only grandchild. Go figure.

While I was helping Val move a heavy piece of furniture, I mentioned that her 'straining face' closely resembled her 'orgasm face'. She let it pass. Then I said that I'd like her to move her dining room set by herself; it'd be like watching a gangbang. That's when she sat down and said I could move everything else by myself, because she wanted to see my 'hernia face' later on.

*****

One of the first things Beth wanted to do after she moved in was to throw a pajama party for all her little friends. I'd pictured a lot of possible scenarios of when she and Val came to live with me, but a houseful of screaming kids raiding my fridge wasn't one of them. Val wanted to spruce the house up with flowers and knick-knacks. That was fine, but she also included scented candles. The smell of vanilla replacing the familiar mixed odor of dog, leather, and old pizza took getting used to.

Val and I sat in bed one night and talked about finances. I wanted her to use her own money for her car payments, and to buy online classes to finish her Public Admin degree. I'd take care of everything else. From working with me, she had a fair estimate of how much I made. Still, she assumed that all of the other expenses plus having a basement finished would stretch my budget.

I'd never mentioned my fracking account to her before, but the time had come. Omitting it was never really a thoughtful choice; I just never saw a reason to bring up that money before. It certainly didn't make me rich, but I could live on the income. The basement work was being paid with fracking money, and I could easily afford everything else with my normal income. Maybe it was Val's habit of self-reliance that made her uneasy with my suggestion. I didn't see what the big deal was; she'd be paying most of the bills, only with my card. Now that's trust.

When I started being a translator years before, I never thought I could or would make lots of money doing it. I liked the work more than I cared about the money. At the time of the financial talk with Val, I had ongoing or renewed contracts with five big international corporations and requests for smaller projects being sent to my website. I was doing fine. The day after Val agreed to move in, I had a savings account opened in Beth's name and had a fraction of the monthly fracking money put into it. College fund or living expenses - whatever she wanted later on. I didn't tell Val about it.

*****

We were all sitting in my living room one evening when I asked Beth if she was excited about the trip to North Dakota for my sister's wedding.

"Uh huh," she answered with a smile as she kept brushing Odin. "I already have everything picked out, and Mom said I could wear a dress this time." Val looked up from her laptop with a grin.

"Have you ever been in an airplane before?"

Beth shook her head. "But I really want to. I wanna sit next to a window, and Odin can sit next to me."

"Um, baby," Val said, "it doesn't work that way. They don't let dogs on with people."

"He'd have to be put in a crate and ride in the cargo area," I explained.

"Put in a crate?" Beth asked with a horrified look. "That's mean! Odin will get scared."

"Well, we could let him stay at a kennel until we get back."

"Huh uh, if Odin can't go, I don't wanna either."

I looked at Val. "I know a flight out of Green Bay would save us some time getting there, but I hate the idea of him cooped up in a crate for hours. I'm not too crazy about putting him in a kennel, either. Have you already bought airline tickets?"

"No, but I have seats reserved."

To Beth, I said, "Odin can go if we drive, but we'll be in the car almost all day until we get to my family's house, okay? That's a long time."

"That's okay. I'll bring books and my iPod and stuff. Then I get to see Andrea again; she sent me a picture of her wedding dress. It was so pretty." She got up and went to the near end of the hallway and looked up at my family photos hung there. There were smaller ones around the big picture taken at Pete's wedding. "I think I know everyone's face, too. That's your Grandpa; he's funny. And those are your twin brothers... Why does one of them get their own picture over here?"

I never explained that to Beth, unsure of how to go about it. That I knew of, she hadn't lost anyone in her family. I looked to Val for help. She wasn't particularly religious and neither was I, so I didn't know how she was going to explain it.

"That's Joe," she said. "He was in an accident and passed away."

"They couldn't fix him?"

"No, baby, they couldn't." Val looked at me, apparently wondering how much more she should say.

I'd spilled some tears for losing Joe, but privately. Then, in Rylander fashion, I covered up my pain. Other than the occasional random memory, I never let myself dwell on his death. I don't think I ever stopped being angry about it. I initially wanted someone to blame, but pointing the finger at his girlfriend wasn't fair. That only left Joe; he screwed up. Accepting that fact didn't mean I dealt with it very well.

I got up off the couch and stepped out on the back deck. Odin followed me out. Even in late March, the air was still cold and snow was still on the ground. The crisp air was soothing, and the snow calmed me like always. The language of winter was silent, but it always spoke to me.

The sliding glass door opened behind me a few minutes later. Beth came out, leaned against my hip, and said, "I'm sorry your brother had to go away."

"I am too, sugar." I looked down to make sure her coat was zipped up, and saw those big green eyes staring back up at me. Beth reached out, so I picked her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck and put her head under my chin.

"Mom said you needed a hug. Don't be sad, okay?"

I breathed deep and held her close. "Your hugs help a lot. Thank you."

She pulled back to look at me and said with a growing smile, "I know what'll make you happy again. Let's go for a ride on the snowmobile!"

Beth was nearly addicted to that thing. If she didn't have to pee all the time, we'd be out on it all day. Like always, I had trouble saying no to that little girl.

*****

The drive to Tioga took over twelve hours that time, but it felt quicker. When Beth wasn't sleeping or asking me to stop for another bathroom break, she was asking questions about the ranch and my family and cows. Halfway into Minnesota, Val drove to give me a break; we were an hour past Grand Forks when I woke up from my nap. I called ahead and told my mom that we'd get to the ranch just after seven. She said she'd have a late supper ready for us.

I couldn't wait for my family to meet Val and Beth. I was proud to be with them, proud that they wanted to be with me. I didn't care that Beth wasn't my kid; most people would've mistaken her as mine, anyway. Except for her eyes and her smile, she looked just as much like me as she did Val.

The air was a little warmer in Tioga than back in Marquette, and most of the snow was gone. Beth was sad that we couldn't ride my family's snowmobile, but I reminded her that we had ATVs and horses. When I turned onto the long gravel drive, I could see that Val was nervous. I held her hand and told her, "They're gonna love you." She smiled weakly.

Some of the family stepped out onto the porch when we pulled up, but Jake was standing out front. "It's about time you got here!" he yelled as soon as I opened my door. "Mom made us wait for dinner until you showed up!"

Val wasn't sure of how to react to a big guy yelling as he came toward my door. Jake scooped me up over his shoulder and spun me once. "Put me down, jackass," I ordered him.

He let me go and we faced each other with smiles. "Good to see ya again, little brother." He turned and hurried around my SUV to open the doors for Val and Beth. "You must be Valerie," he said to her. "Danny talks about you all the time. He used to be a quiet kid. Now he won't shut up."

Val hesitated. "Um, sorry, I guess?"

"Nah, he's happy." Jake then turned to Beth as she climbed out, and said, "And who is this?"

"I'm Beth, and you're Dan's brother Jake."

"Exactly right; you're a smart girl. Do you know what smart girls get here?"

"I get to ride a horse?" she asked hopefully.

"Maybe later," he chuckled, "but for now, you get the first cut of roast," he turned his head to me as he kept talking, "that we've been waiting for hours to eat!"

My dad came forward and smacked Jake on the back of the head. "It wouldn't hurt you to miss a meal altogether." He turned, shook hands with Val, and said, "Good to have you here."

The rest of the Rylander clan came out to welcome Val and Beth. I made introductions and let those two be ushered inside. I let Odin out to sniff around, and started grabbing luggage. Jake helped. I turned to him and said, "You seem peppier than usual. Married life that good?"

He beamed a smile back at me. "My soldiers marched!"

It took me a second to catch on. "Are you shitting me?"

He nodded, grinning like an idiot. "We found out yesterday morning. Two tests, and then we ran to the clinic to make sure. I'm gonna be a daddy by Christmas!"

I set the luggage down. "And you didn't tell me when you found out?"

"I didn't wanna email that kind of news. Oh, and as your brother I'm obliged to say this: you got a real pretty lady there, but she better be treatin' you good."

"She's the best." I slapped Jake on the shoulder; that's as close to a hug as a Rylander man will get. "I'm really happy for you, and for Megan."

"Thanks. Now pick that shit back up. I'm starving, dammit."

*****

Val warmed right up around my family. Andrea, Lori and Megan included her in their ongoing wedding conversation. Mom apologized for the messy house, which was spotless. Beth played with Pete's little kids; Odin wouldn't let my dad's dogs near them. Since Scott's family chose to stay at a hotel south of town, Dad said that Val, Beth and I had the third floor to ourselves.

I stepped out of the shower the next morning and found Val in the bathroom with me. She was obviously not happy. Why, I didn't know. "Okay, what'd I do this time?" I asked.

Val kept her scowl as she said through nearly-gritted teeth, "Beth and I just found some of your high school stuff in the closet of your old bedroom, a big box full of trophies and ribbons and medals. An old article said you had the most awards in your school's history."

"Yeah, okay... So why are you pissed about it?"

"Because you never told me, Dan!" she barked. "Not. One. Damn. Word! For Christ's sake, you set school records!"

I shrugged. "It's a small high school."

Val went on as if I hadn't said anything. "You came in second in _state_ for _two different_ sports, and you never thought to mention it?"

I started drying off while I tried to explain. "Honey, I felt like I'd be bragging. Besides, I only did all that stuff because I liked it; I never really cared about winning."

"Alright, but I want you to tell me more about this later. Do you have any other surprises?"

I grinned. "Only what's under this towel."

Mom, Lori and Megan went all-out for breakfast that morning. There were trays of steaks, scrambled eggs, biscuits, pancakes, hash browns, bacon and toast. Pitchers of milk and juice were passed around. Beth stared at the table with wide eyes. Val was amazed by all the food. Scott's family was invited. Grandpa fixed Beth a plate; my family spoiled that kid rotten.

Later that morning, Val found me while I was giving my mom's car a tune-up. "Mm, my hard-working man, all dirty and greasy," she commented, looking at my hands and arms. "That kinda turns me on."

"Oh yeah? Wait 'til I muck the stalls."

"Ooh, I just got wet." We laughed, and then she said, "Before your mom shooed me out of the kitchen, she told me to tell you that your clothes are ironed. And there are a couple more chores written down on that board on the side of the fridge. I have to hand it to her; Emma knows how to run a household."

I nodded my agreement. "She keeps this place going. I bet right now she's making extra food for the wedding reception, even though it's being catered."

"That's why she ran me and Lori out of the kitchen, but in a nice way. Your whole family is nice, Dan; I shouldn't have worried so much about it. Everyone here treats Beth like a princess."

Val was probably expecting to be treated like her mom would've done, and that Beth might be ignored because of it. Most of my family wasn't too physically affectionate, but they gave Val more smiles and warm greetings than she'd imagined. Even Andrea, who was getting married that evening, took some time to chat with Beth.

"Anyway," Val said, "don't worry about getting Beth on a horse today. I talked to your grandfather after breakfast this morning, and he said he'd be happy to do it. He also had some very nice things to say about you, sweetie. You two must be close."

"Yeah, always have been; he and Andrea accepted my quirks better than the others. Grandpa Eli is one of those people that everyone likes. I'm still not sure that my dad is his son."

"Oh, he's not so bad. Erik is very polite to me. He's sort of like my dad, only not so... off-beat."

"I get along with Lukas just fine. My dad, on the other hand..."

"I haven't noticed any tension between you two."

"There's no tension at all, never really has been. It's just..." I thought of how to explain my dad; an example came to mind. "One summer when I was a kid, I was worried that mosquitoes would get in through the screen window next to my bed at night and bite me up while I slept. My dad told me this fun little half-lie: _'Male mosquitoes don't bite, but they buzz. It's the females that bite, but they don't buzz. So, when you're lying there at night and you don't hear anything... watch out'_." Val laughed. "That's not off-beat like your dad; it's more, I don't know... sadistic."

"You say sadistic, I say funny - tomato, tomahto."

*****

Andrea wanted an outdoor evening wedding. She wanted to get married on the porch, with a bunch of rented chairs out on the lawn. For the reception, one of those giant tents was put up out in the side yard, away from the barns and work sheds. The porch and banisters were strung with white lights. My dad bought a shitload of little solar and battery-powered lamps for the aisle and reception tables.

My sister's wedding was simply beautiful. All of those tiny lights and soft lamps lit her up perfectly. The air was calm and cool, and the sky was packed with stars that night. Val was just as impressed as I was. Andrea wore a simple, elegant ankle-length dress; she didn't want anything that dragged on the ground. Only Scott's family, some college friends of theirs, my family and some of our close neighbors were invited. In comparison, Pete and Jake's weddings kinda sucked.

I was distracted that whole evening because of Val. She looked stunning in her long green dress and jacket. Her hair was up in a sexy bun, and she had on a touch more makeup than normal. The jewelry I'd given her went perfectly with her outfit. And Beth looked adorable in her new yellow dress. For nearly half of the short ceremony, she sat on my lap. I felt like a king with those two next to me.

There were a number of speeches and toasts at the reception. Scott's best man went first, followed by the maid of honor (Andrea's best friend from college). Scott's dad went next; he was pretty funny. My turn was down the line, so I sat back and enjoyed Pete and Jake making fun of our sister. I was finally called, so I took a deep breath and stood.

"For those in the Hoffman party who don't know me, I'm Dan, the bride's younger brother. Back at Thanksgiving, Andrea asked me to say something at her reception. So I put together a few sentences to say how I feel about her, about Scott, and about them as a couple. It's short and simple, but I mean every word of it. Then just last night, my sister asked me to put some originality into it. So, this is what I came up with." And so I spoke my own memorized words, except I said them in Swedish.

No one except Grandpa really understood what I said. Still, most of my family was smiling or chuckling. My sister and new brother-in-law seemed to enjoy my 'originality'. The Hoffman's and a few other guests had puzzled looks. I think it went over pretty well.

Later on, one of Scott's aunts introduced herself to Val and I. Scott had told her what I do for a living, and she told me that the company she worked for in Fargo (a helicopter parts company) most likely needed an outsourced translator. She gave me her card; I didn't have one of my own to give back, but the ever-prepared Val did. I thanked the lady and said I'd be in touch.

Since we'd already planned for Beth to miss a Friday and the following Monday of school, we stayed at the ranch on Sunday. After helping to remove all the decorations, I did a few chores to get them out of the way; I had plans to go cruising around the fields on the ATVs with Val and Beth before dinner. We all had a good time, capped off with a great meal and stories from the wedding. We were given warm farewells the next morning, plus about six containers of leftovers (Mom hid them from Jake).

*****

Soon after we got back home and into our routines, Val asked if she could take pictures of me now and then. I wasn't crazy about the idea, being camera-shy. When I asked why, she said she liked all the pictures at my parent's house and wanted some of her own. I relented, but I didn't like it. She caught me at odd times, coming back from a run, painting the shed, lifting weights, or wrestling with Odin in the backyard. Those weren't exactly the kinds of shots I wanted to be sent out to my family, and I sure as hell didn't want them framed and hung in the dining room.

I did reluctantly agree to have some posed photos taken. Val said that my Norbaltra website needed to be updated, and a personal shot would be a nice touch. She had a point, at least for the first part. Since the website was made, I'd learned three new languages, had accreditation of fluency for each of them, and hadn't listed my translation or finance certifications. For the photos, Val had me kneel next to Odin on the deck and told me to try to make my smile look genuine. We were out there for a while.

A friend of a friend of Val's worked for a web design place in Marquette, and she was contacted for my update. I checked the company's website out; they did some pretty nice work. I just wanted it to look professional, without me coming off as a dick.

The basement was finished a few days before Beth's summer vacation. There was a snug exercise room, a small spare room, a three-quarter bathroom, a laundry/storage room, and enough space left over for a nice family room. Nothing fancy, but I liked it. Val and I moved the rest of her stuff in from storage; the new rooms filled up pretty quick. When we were done moving furniture, I asked if she was happy there with me. Val didn't say anything, she just made out with me on her couch. I took it as yes.

One evening, I let Val and Beth watch the video made of me back in high school, the one for my college applications. It was in the box with my track and field shit; I hadn't watched it in years. Watching it reminded me of Nicole, and I felt bad all over again for how we drifted apart.

Hearing Grandma Hannah's voice again, and seeing Jake and Joe together for a few seconds... I wasn't quite prepared for either one. Val commented that my grandma sounded like an interesting lady, and she wished she could've met her. Beth said it was neat that I played sports in school; when she said it, Val gave me a stare out of the corner of her eye. She didn't let that go for a while.

*****

Remember when I said I didn't like Val take pictures of me? Yeah, well, her picture-taking thing came back up about a month later in mid-June. She had more than just photo albums planned. I'd just finished with an Icelandic-to-Swedish technical document when she came into the office with her laptop. She was smiling and clearly excited, which made me wary.

"I've got some things for you to look at and approve," Val began as she sat in the other chair and set her laptop on a desk. "Three really cool things. Okay, this..." she hit a button, "is the proposed new look for the Norbaltra site. I think it turned out great."

The design was clean and modern with links to details that weren't on the main page. It had a cool new logo, too. The photo I posed for with Odin was at the bottom of the main page, plus a few other random shots on the link pages. "This looks really sharp, but does that pic have to be included?" I was referring to a photo of me cooling down from a run, sweaty with my ear buds in.

"Terry and Margo said it gives dimension. You know, shows another side of you, not just sitting in front of a computer. They also said it implies that you're serious about everything you do. And that's true, Dan; you don't half-ass anything you focus on. Besides, I think you look thoughtful and sexy in that shot. Margo thought so, too."

I frowned. "I wasn't shootin' for a sexy website. But hell, if some woman named Margo likes it, then fine. Consider it approved, but I'll need new business cards."

"I was just waiting for the green light." Val then hit another minimized screen and said, "I haven't done anything with this besides having some editing done. And by anything, I mean post it on YouTube. Not yet. I know you're sort of bashful, sweetie, but give this a shot."

The video started playing, and I immediately realized that Val had actually filmed me with her phone as well as took pictures. It was a series of short clips fading from one to the next. In almost all of 'em, I had ear buds in or headphones on and was talking out loud in various languages. Riding the stationary bike; reading a book aloud; online talking with foreign correspondents; playing in the backyard with Odin, giving him commands in Swedish; out for a walk, talking to Beth in Danish to make her giggle. When a clip showed me painting the shed, I hit the pause button. "What the hell is this, Val?"

"It's to gain exposure."

I pointed at the screen; all I was wearing when I painted the shed was shoes, running shorts, and ear buds. "Yeah, I'd call that exposed, alright. I was also singing an old Finnish folk song, and I sound like shit. What kind of business is that supposed to bring in?"

"Okay, maybe that part isn't necessary. I was just showing off my handsome boyfriend a little. I really liked watching your muscles flexing in the sun, shiny with sweat..."

"Well hell, let's just skip this and make a porno," I growled sarcastically.

"Dammit, Dan, it's tough to help you out when you won't cooperate. You know a dozen languages inside out, you can fix or build any machine out there, and you could teach European history. You won't talk about those things with a camera pointed at you, so I'm left with this. You said gaining a reputation will bring in big companies and let you charge more. Well, you've got a list of major clients who are happy with your work, so more exposure will let you raise your rates."

"Yeah, but..." I gestured to the video, "like this?"

Val scowled at me. "Fine, I'll have the shed clip taken out. The point is that there are three ways to get your name out there. One is word of mouth; I can't help with that. Second is marketing, and third is media exposure." She jabbed a finger at the screen. " _That_ is media exposure."

I hesitated. "I know it is. Just like the one I showed you that Andrea and Scott made of me a few years ago; it helped bring in some business. This one, though... it just seems so raw, so... candid."

She rubbed my arm and said, "Don't be self-conscious, sweetie. Those clips show parts of who you are, and I love every one of them. Other videos only show people sitting in their bedrooms talking to a camera, or being interviewed with boring, rehearsed Q and A. With this, perspective clients get to see more of who you are. Trust me, none of it is bad."

"I do trust you. I just... Okay, if you think it's a good idea. But if a bunch of smart-ass comments get posted, take it down."

"I promise. Now, there's one more thing, and I think you'll love it."

"We're gonna make a porno after all?"

Val ignored that. "This has to do with the subscription you have for Mechanical Engineering Magazine. You know," she gave me a hard stare, "the ones I have to keep picking up around the house?"

"Yeah, sorry," I said, and meant it. "What about 'em?"

"Well, they gave me an idea. One of the types of business exposure is marketing, right? So, I looked into putting a Norbaltra ad in there." She shook her head. "Way, way too expensive."

"I bet."

"Instead, I thought I'd go a step further. I looked through some of the magazines and saw that they had stories of people who were involved the field one way or another. And I thought, why not you? Don't give me that face, Dan. Just listen. I contacted one of their editors and told them about you. I sent them copies of some of your engine and flow designs, and named your primary clients. They said to let them know when the website's been updated, but the main thing is... they want to do a story on you!"

I wasn't sure how to feel. Elated, sure; scared shitless, you bet. "Damn, Val, this is... I don't..."

She scooted even closer. "Don't freak out, alright? I had an idea how you'd feel about it; it's a big deal and you'd be nervous, especially with a journalist right in front of you asking questions. I didn't have to make any special requests, though. The editor I talked to said it'd be easier for them if they just did a phone interview instead of flying out from New York. So now you can sit in your office or out on the deck and have a normal conversation like you would with those other linguists you talk with."

That was a huge relief. With someone in my face, there was a good chance of me being blunt or rude. The article for the Marquette paper wasn't the same; it was only a local thing, so I didn't stress out about it too much. And that short language-website video was pretty much scripted and filmed on a video chat, so there wasn't any anxiety. "When do - when do they wanna do this?"

"On your birthday; isn't that perfect?"

I took a deep breath and noisily blew it out. Val was smiling expectantly, waiting for me to respond. Words weren't enough right then. I pulled her out of her chair and onto my lap, hugging her tight.

"You've earned this, sweetie," Val whispered, and then kissed me above my ear.

"Not without you," I whispered back. "You made this happen. I love you, Valerie."

She moved so that we were nose to nose. "You keep saying it first," she said with a dimpled smile.

"Mom," Beth said from the doorway, "when you're done kissing _again_ , can we go ride our bikes?"

*****

Val and Beth finally decided to start joining me on jogs; we started out with short runs on the trails. I still went on longer routes on my own, or when Rob had time. My ladies also began working out with me downstairs; we only spent a few hours a week in the exercise room, but I liked having them around no matter what we did. Val decided to make that time educational for her and Beth, so she hung a board for me to write Finnish words and their English translations. Beth wanted to learn it as a "secret language" for her grandpa Lukas and great granny Aila.

We spent the fourth of July over at a park next to Marquette's marina. There was a food fest, bands all day, games for kids, a short parade in the afternoon, a lighted boat parade out on the lake at dusk, and a big fireworks display afterwards. It was a busy park that day. On our tour-guide drives, Val had shown it to me a few times. One of the town's walking trails that I'd been on skirted the park, so I wasn't concerned about losing my way. I mean, hell, the south side was water and to the east was a big parking lot, so it's not like I had a lot of choices to mess up with.

A little while after we got to the park, Lauren spotted us. She and Rob had claimed a shady spot and invited us to share it when we weren't out walking around. We gave up the spot to get to the parade early. One reason for that was because Rob was going to drive his '61 Dodge in the parade with other classic cars. He and I had gotten it finished over spring, and his dad's shop did a great job on the body. I gave Lauren a hard time for letting him paint the damn thing orange.

We also needed to be at the parade because Beth and her gymnastics class were in it. The kids walked a while, then did a cartwheel or two; walked a while, cartwheel. Val and I filmed it on our phones, but we both agreed her group was boring and lame and we'd erase the videos later.

*****

Later that afternoon as we all sat under a tree and ate pasties and pretzels, Rob asked Val how jogging with me was working out.

"My lungs took some time to get used to it, even with us doing short workouts at home. Beth can run like a rabbit, so I'm the slowpoke. I'm getting there, though. We're up to about a mile now, and then we walk a few blocks back to the house to cool off."

"I'm surprised you can keep up with him," Rob said with a grin. "This guy runs me like a horse."

"Well, Dan was the second fastest kid back in his high school days, so he's probably used to going full tilt. He just takes it easy on me and Beth."

Rob looked at me. "Second fastest? How big was your school?"

"No, I didn't mean his school," Val said. "I meant North Dakota." Rob and Lauren's eyes widened. "He didn't tell you either, eh? I'm glad I'm not the only one."

"You were second in state?" Lauren asked me.

"Two different sports," Val interjected again, "the 400-meter sprint and the discus throw."

"Do I get to answer a question here?" I asked, amused.

"You wouldn't answer one with any detail, sweetie, so... no." To the Anderson's, Val said, "I bet Dan would have come in first in both if he would've cared enough to try."

"Hey, I was learning Icelandic at the time." To me, that was a valid excuse.

Around a mouthful of pretzel, Beth said, "Daddy has a big box full of medals and ribbons and stuff. You should see it sometime."

Val and I stopped chewing our food and stared at each other. Lauren broke the silence. "You could bring some for show-and-tell when school starts again, if you get permission."

Beth looked at me. "Can I?"

I was still a little stunned. "Uh... sure," I mumbled.

Val stood up and said to Beth, "Baby, why don't you come help me get more lemonade for everyone."

When they walked off, Rob asked me, "When did you become 'daddy'?"

"Oh, uh, about twenty seconds ago." I looked at him and Lauren. "What do I do?"

"This wasn't discussed?" Lauren asked. I shook my head. "If the biological father isn't in the picture and if you and Beth get along, then her calling you 'Dad' isn't all that surprising."

"I don't think the father's ever even seen her, and I love that kid to death. But is it okay for her to do that, to call me that? I'm not saying Beth did anything wrong, not at all. I'm thrilled she thinks of me that way. But, I mean, I'm not her dad."

"Dan, you may as well be Beth's dad if you care that much about her. I'm assuming you spend time with her, take care of her, help with her homework, tuck her in at night, cheer her on... Well, that's a dad."

"You should really talk to Valerie about this, not us," Rob suggested.

Val, Beth and I sat on a blanket that evening and watched all the boats strung with lights float by. The 'daddy' issue moved to the back of my mind; we had a good time talking and picking out our favorite boats. The fireworks started a short time later, and it was one hell of a show. In the middle of it, Beth pointed up and said, "Dad, look at that one!" I couldn't see Val's reaction, so I didn't know how she felt about it. Maybe she didn't mind, maybe she did. I had to wait for a verdict again.

*****

Beth was exhausted by the time we got home and went straight to bed. Val and I were pretty tired, too, so we agreed to talk in the morning. An hour later I was sitting on the side of the bed, unable to sleep. Val was apparently awake as well, because she hugged me from behind.

"I need to know how you feel," I said quietly in the dark.

She put her chin on my shoulder and whispered, "I always want what's best for Beth. When we went for lemonade, I asked her if she realized that she called you daddy. In a roundabout way, she told me that 'Dan' and 'Dad' mean the same thing to her now."

I put my arms over Val's and made her hug me tighter. "But what about how you feel?" I had to ask.

"You know me, sweetie; it's never simple."

I leaned my head to rest against hers and asked, "How about the short version?"

She let out a long breath. "Okay... I'm worried you might feel pressured. I love that Beth thinks of you that way, and it scares me at the same time. It's her choice; I won't push one way or the other. But hearing her calling you 'Dad' again during the fireworks, it made my heart tingle. If I told you I was happy about it, though, I don't know if it would put more pressure on you to assume that roll."

"But you _did_ just tell me."

"Open and honest, sweetie, remember? Now it's your turn. I need to know how _you_ feel."

"I felt like you did when I heard her call me that. It makes me worry, too. I mean, is Beth calling me 'Dad' acceptable? What will your parents think? And the big one is... am I good enough for her to be calling me that? I don't know if I've earned it, and I don't wanna let anyone down."

Val turned my head and kissed me. "Dan, part of why I love you is because of all the ways you make me happy. The other part is how happy you make Beth, too. You've more than earned being called Dad, if that's what you want."

I was humbled and grateful and honored, but as a Rylander I had trouble saying it. I did finally manage to whisper, "I am so lucky. Thank you."

"Thank you, too." Then she slipped back under the covers. "Don't be too thrilled about it, though; it's your turn to make Sunday morning breakfast tomorrow."

I didn't care if I burnt the pancakes again; 'dad' would be forgiven... probably.

*****

A few days later on my birthday, I sat out on the deck with Odin in the late morning sun and had the phone interview with a guy from Mechanical Engineering Magazine. It didn't feel like an interview; more like a stranger striking up a conversation, except he knew stuff about me. We talked back and forth about engines and industrial designs. Then he started to blend my major clients into his questions. We really didn't talk about languages. Just when I started to wonder when the actual interview would begin, he thanked me and said he'd be in touch with details of the article.

"Well, that was different," I said to Odin. He stared at me like he was waiting for more information.

Val stepped out a minute later and asked, "How'd it go?"

"Pretty good, I think." I noticed her purse on her shoulder. "Off to the grocery store?"

"I just need a few extra things. Beth is in her room decorating the envelope of your birthday card. Are you sure you only want dinner at home? We could go out somewhere."

"Nah, I just wanna eat some chicken Alfredo and hang out with my girls. I'm a cheap date."

Dinner was great, we ate some German chocolate cake afterwards, and then Val and Beth gave me gifts. I insisted that they keep them simple. Val gave me a Sweden jersey, and a box of Norbaltra t-shirts with the new logo (she had to order in small bulk - we gave extras to friends and family). Beth gave me a deck of personalized playing cards; she used a photo we posed for (with Odin) at Andrea's wedding. I asked Val to make a bigger copy of that shot so we could frame it.

A little before dusk, Beth wanted me to go riding with her on our bicycles. I was making lazy circles on my bike out front while Val put Beth's helmet and pads on. Overprotective, I thought, but it wasn't my call. Beth raced out from the carport a minute later. Just as she was nearing me, a wasp or something flew in her face. She freaked out, suddenly changed direction - my direction... and that's all I remember.

I regained my senses in an ambulance right after they loaded me in. I was strapped to a gurney. I could see the top of the back doors. They were open. I heard Val calling my name, and Beth crying. One of the EMTs was wiping my face with a wet towel; there was blood on it. The other guy was asking me what day it was. I was a little loopy, but I understood him. "Yeah, man, today's my birthday. I'm okay."

He looked back at Val and asked, "What language was that?"

She called to me, "Dan, sweetie, remember to speak English."

The other EMT started messing with the side of my head; it burned. "Dude, take it easy," I said, and tried to pull away. That's when I realized I was wearing a neck brace. "Guys, look, I'm alright. I've got some superglue in the shed, I'll patch myself up. Can you take that cuff thing off my arm?"

"Take it easy, Dan," the guy on my left said. "You took a hard tumble. Let us make sure you're alright."

"Dan, calm down and let them help you," Val said. "We'll be right behind you, okay?"

I heard the words, but they didn't mean much. The doors shut and we started moving. The EMT back there with me was saying stuff into a radio and asking me more questions while he prodded me.

"Dan, when was the last time you ate something?"

"I had cake. If you take me home, I'll give you some." Yep, I was still loopy. I didn't share cake.

"Maybe later, Dan. Do you take any medications?"

I didn't, but I said, "Just a swig of that pink stuff when Val puts too much hot sauce in the chili. Don't tell her about that, okay?"

By the time we got to the hospital two minutes later, my head was ringing like a bell. More people loomed in over me. All of the activity going on around me started making me queasy. My new Norbaltra t-shirt was cut off me, but it had blood all over it anyway. Nurses gave me a CT scan, and then cleaned up the scrapes on my arm. A doctor came in, told me I had a concussion, and closed the gash in my head with nine stitches. They wanted me to stay for the test results, and to just make sure I was okay.

Val and Beth came into my semi-private room. Beth started crying again and ran forward. I hugged her and tried to calm her down. She mumbled a "sorry" between sniffles. I asked if she was alright; her calf was scratched up, but nothing else. Val nervously told me I landed on my head and arm. I apologetically told her I threw up my dinner and birthday cake.

Shortly after the tests showed that I didn't crack my skull or anything, I was free to go. Val had already run home and got me some clothes to wear. On the way out, Beth clung to me like a grouper fish. While we drove home, I asked that for my next birthday we go out to dinner.

*****

Val's online classes were taking up some of her time in the evenings, so I took over dinner and clean-up duties most of the time. Beth helped, and we made it fun. Val used the little spare room downstairs as her study room. I told her that she could quit working at Gunnar's and we'd be fine, especially since I wasn't officially paying her anymore. My business was doing very well, and I rarely worked forty hours a week. The updated website, the video and the magazine interview were helpful. Val wouldn't quit - stubborn woman - but she stopped working Saturdays.

I didn't necessarily want Val to be a stay-at-home mom, but I wanted her to stop worrying about "being neglectful" to us. She organized her time well, and was plowing through the classes. When Beth started third grade, I suggested again that Val should quit waitressing and start taking her online classes in the mornings and afternoons. She could take more accelerated classes and get her associate degree sooner. I'd also get out of cooking dinner by myself all the damn time.

Val worried about helping me with my work, but by then she had me organized to the hilt. The new bookcase allowed me to close the closet door. I had orderly stacks of mini file cabinets that held info for each major client, and a flash drive of the corresponding languages for each. On top of the cabinets and office organizers were alarm clocks; each one was set to certain times, and beeped and flashed to remind me of one thing or another. My office looked like downtown Tokyo.

Val eventually and reluctantly agreed to give her notice at Gunnar's, but stipulated that she would put her classes on hold whenever Beth had time off from school. Fine by me; I started planning our vacation.

*****

In mid-October, I went hunting again with the Maki men, Ben and Lukas. Ben bagged a six-pointer and promised me some venison from it. On the way back to town, we stopped at a rural bar-and-grill for lunch. The guy serving us... he looked like the type who lost his virginity to his mother in an outhouse. None of us ordered tap beer; we didn't trust the glasses. The Maki's did know the cook (I guess from all their trips out that way), so eating wasn't a worry. My elk burger tasted pretty damn good, partly because I knew that Fred the inbred didn't touch it.

As we sat at our table eating, I said to Lukas, "Remember when you and I first met?"

"Da dinner in town... Yep, dat was somethin'."

"And when you told that joke, that I had your blessing to marry Val?"

"Sure as hell gave her a shock, eh?"

"Well, I'm asking if you'll to say it again, to me, and be serious about it this time."

Lukas looked up from his plate. "Dis is a bigger deal den moving in together, ya know."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with that when Val and I told you. Did you?"

"No; I was worried about Beth, but not enough to cause a stink. I didn't know ya good enough to say I liked ya den, but I respected ya. Valerie said ya came from good people."

"Uh, I'd like to think so."

Lukas grinned. "Ya look kinda nervous dere, Dan."

"Well, uh... since this is the first and last time I'll ever be doing this, yeah, I'm a little edgy. Look, I'm not the emotional, pour-my-heart-out type, and I don't think you are, either. So I'm just gonna say three things: I will be good to Val and Beth for the rest of my life, I'd be honored to be part of your family, and your blessing would mean a lot." I looked at Ben. "So would yours."

"Have you and my daughter talked about dis?"

I shook my head. "Not one bit, but I've been thinking about it for a while."

"You two have been together under a year, right?"

"That'll be in November. I don't plan on asking until after, maybe sometime in December. I don't really care how long we've been together, though. I know she's the one."

Lukas studied me for a few long seconds. "Alright, here's how it goes," he finally said. "You're welcome to be part of my family, _but_... if Beth doesn't like it, den you let it go. You need her blessing more den mine. And if you ever hurt either of 'em, I'll shoot ya." His stare told me he wasn't joking.

"You'll never have to worry about that."

He nodded and said, "I'll shake your hand when we're done eatin'."

"Hey dere," Ben said as he slapped my shoulder, "I'm gonna have a brother-in-law!"

"You gotta keep this to yourself, Ben. Well, you can tell Faye, but that's it, okay?" I looked at both of them. "No disrespect intended, but I just don't trust Rose or Jessica with this."

Lukas shrugged and said, "I wouldn't, either." I got a strong feeling that he wasn't happily married. He then said around a mouthful of elk burger, "If Valerie says yes, den we'll have a big dinner at my house to celebrate. If she doesn't, I'll buy da first round."

*****

A week later on a Saturday morning, Val and I were in my office finishing some work. I completed my document translations before she was done with invoices, so I said I'd take Beth out shopping for a new Halloween costume. "We'll be back in a while. I might take her to lunch, too."

"You don't mind?"

"Well, can I use this as leverage to get you to do special favors for me? Nudge, nudge - wink, wink."

A grin almost crept onto her face, but she killed it. "No."

"Then I don't mind. You just relax when you're done here. I got this. We'll have fun."

"You already spoil her. Don't go crazy with anything."

"Honey, that's the fun part." I gave her a kiss and ran out of the room.

Beth picked out an Eskimo outfit. I offered to get her a stuffed polar bear to go along with it when she went trick-or-treating, but she wanted Odin to go with her instead. I liked the idea; the treat was obviously candy, and the trick was for people not to crap their pants when they opened their doors and saw a big blue-eyed wolf glaring at them.

We got some fast food and then drove around eating and practicing Beth's 'secret language', Finnish. She was picking it up pretty fast, and knew it better than Val did. I stayed in town, keeping to the roads I knew well. While we cruised around side streets and Beth finished her sundae, I said, "Hey, I've got a couple important questions for ya, but this has to stay between just you and me. I wanna surprise your mom, so we can't tell her yet, okay?"

"Okay. I can keep a secret."

"Great. Now, a special day is coming up -"

"What special day? Do you mean Halloween?"

"No, the next day after that; a year ago on that day was the first time me and your mom went on a date. It's like an anniversary. I'm gonna take you and her out to dinner to the same place we went the first time. It's a nice restaurant, so you can dress up if you want."

"Cool! Is that the secret?"

"Not really. I wanna get her a gift, but I'm not sure what. You have any ideas?"

"Um... Mom's almost out of her shampoo, that big purple bottle."

"Well, that's a start, thanks. More shampoo. Okay, there's one of the secrets I need you to keep. But there's another one, and I need to ask you about it, too."

"Okay."

I kept my foot on the brake at a stop sign and took a deep breath. "Is it alright with you if I ask your mom to marry me?"

Beth spun her head to me with a big smile, wide eyes, and an ice cream mustache. "You'll be my dad for real?!" She tried to jump around, but with her seatbelt on she looked like she was having a seizure.

I told her I'd be her step-dad if her mom said yes. Beth was quite informed on this; some of her friends at school came from non-traditional families. Apparently, Val had explained that Beth's "birth father" made some poor choices and wasn't ready to be a dad. Because he never contacted her in any way, Beth decided a while back that she simply didn't have a dad. She asked if I was going to adopt her, too.

"I'd like to adopt you, but it's your choice, sugar."

"And you adopting me would make you my real dad, right?"

"Sure would."

"Awesome! Would anything change?"

"Only your last name and your birth certificate, nothing else. Do you like the last name Rylander?"

"Hmm, Bethany Rylander... Do you say it the same way in Finnish?"

"Yes, you goof."

She giggled and then asked, "I have to keep this a secret? You mean from everyone?"

"Yes, but especially your mom... and no hints or anything."

"Okay, not her, but it's no fun keeping a secret if I can't tell _somebody_."

I'll never understand girls, no matter what age.

*****

Our anniversary dinner was great. We talked about Val's online classes and Beth's activities at school. When the topic turned to the holidays, Val wanted to accept my mom's Thanksgiving invitation. As for Christmas, we decided to spend it at home that year, and maybe a trip over to Val's parent's house if the weather allowed. I offered to drive us over there on my sled if the snow was heavy; Beth loved the idea, but Val wasn't so enthusiastic. Sometimes my beautiful killjoy worried too much.

I'd made reservations earlier than normal so I could give my gifts to Val (and Beth) back at home. Val also wanted to watch some sappy movie that evening, and I gave in. She had gifts for me, which I wasn't expecting. "See, Dad's surprised. I can keep a secret, Mom," Beth said for my benefit. Subtle.

Val's first gift to me was a big pine-scented candle for my office so it'd stop smelling like, well, me. I gave her a luxury spa basket with a shampoo I knew she liked. Yes, I remembered; her diligence to keep me on top of everything made me much less forgetful. Val then gave me a fancy beard trimmer, and asked that I let mine grow out. She liked the look of me with a short beard, and said it added a few years to my face. I think she was still a little self-conscious about our age difference. Women...

My last gift was actually for all of us: three tickets to the Packers vs. Lions game in a couple weeks down in Green Bay. Val and Beth were just as excited as I was. The Packers lost; I didn't rub it in much.

Thanksgiving at the ranch mostly consisted of playing with the kids in the snow, riding the family sled, and eating too much. That night, I threw on a coat and sat on the front porch for a little while. Grandpa came out and lit his pipe. Our silences were always comfortable. When he tapped out the ashes, he asked, "It talks to you, doesn't it?"

He meant the snow. I nodded.

"Me too; I was never sure what it said, but it always made me feel better. Ever since your grandma passed, I've been listening closer. I still don't have it. You're the linguist, Daniel; when you figure out what winter is saying to us, let me know."

*****

I had plans for Beth's birthday. It was on a Saturday that year, so we had all day to have fun. The winter had been pretty mild thus far, but there was still enough snow on the ground - six inches or so - to get out on the snowmobile. We all went to a long trail, and I let the birthday girl drive for over half of it.

Before the Maki clan came over for dinner and gifts and cake, we 'decided' to have a quick workout and then clean up. 'Decided', meaning Beth helped me carry out my plan to propose by helping me convince Val to go downstairs with us. I'd be screwed otherwise.

Beth and I were in the exercise room when Val came in. "Mom, look, there's new words on the board."

I'd written two short phrases in Finnish, fairly sure that she wouldn't know the second one entirely.

Val stood in front of the board and studied the words for a few seconds. "Hmm, 'I love... you?' Is that 'you'?" She looked over her shoulder at me to confirm it. I nodded. "That's a nice one to know," she said with a smile, and then turned back the board.

I slid off the weight bench, grabbed the hidden jewelry box, and knelt on one knee behind her. Beth clamped her hands over her own mouth.

Val began working the second sentence out. "Uh, 'would you... will you...' yeah, that's 'will you'." She thought for a second and said to me, "Dan, I don't know what the rest of it says, except for the question mark at the end."

I took a deep breath. "Marry me."

"Oh, okay, so it's 'Will you marry me?'." And then she visibly flinched. A squeak snuck out from between Beth's fingers.

Val slowly turned and saw me kneeling, holding out the open jewelry box with an engagement ring that glittered in the fluorescent light. "Don't make me repeat myself, honey," I said with a grin.

She just stared at me with her mouth open, and I started to panic. Then Val sobbed once, started to smile, and began nodding her head. She rushed the few feet between us and knelt to hug me. Another one of my t-shirts got stained with tears.

Beth threw her hands in the air and started yelling. That made Odin charge into the room, barking his head off. I held out a hand to Beth and said, "Get over here, goofy." She burrowed into our hug.

We all eventually pulled back so I could slip the ring on Val's finger. She admired it, turning it this way and that. Beth said she helped pick it out. Val looked at her and asked, "This is okay with you, baby?"

Beth nodded. "We talked about it. I had to keep the secret for a long time. I want Dan to be my daddy. A real one, when he adopts me."

Val glanced between us. "You talked about that, too?"

I lightly bumped my head against Beth's and told Val, "This one brought it up. Oh, and I have your dad's blessing, a serious one this time."

She smiled again, and then said to Beth, "You can make some phone calls if you want."

Beth tore out of the room and up the stairs with Odin following.

Val and I sat on the weight bench. She kissed me, admired her ring again, and then said, "You know, technically, you didn't really _ask_ me to marry you."

"Technically, you didn't really _say_ yes. Maybe we can just mime our wedding vows."

*****

The rest of that day was nothing but smiles. The Maki's came over, dinner was a self-serve taco buffet, and Beth got some neat presents. Lukas shook my hand again. Ben and Faye said the four of us should hang out more often. Rose offered to host an engagement party, which surprised the hell out of me.

Three days later, Grandpa Eli called and told me that Jake and Megan were the new parents of a healthy baby boy. They named him Max, after our great-grandfather. Val knew I was going to go see my new nephew when the time came; she asked me to wait a couple days until Beth was out of school so they could go too. They either liked my family enough to drive all that way again a few weeks later, or they felt the masochistic need to go back to North Dakota.

We only stayed for a day at the Rylander Ranch to avoid some bad weather, but we still had fun. I held my new nephew for a while. Like most guys, I think of an infant as a soft potato that poops and cries. Little Max was cute, though. A lot cuter than Pete's kids at that age, but I wasn't gonna say so.

My mom and sister-in-laws made a fuss over Val's ring, and then started discussing our wedding. She and I hadn't done that yet, so I told Beth to remind me when we got home. I spent little bits of time with each of my family members. Each one congratulated me and had advice to give. They all meant well, but they should've written down their offered wisdom; with my memory, I forgot most of what was said by dinner. What my dad told me, though... he put it in my terms, and it stuck.

"You've got two new languages to learn: wife and daughter," he said. "I hope you know 'em pretty well already. Otherwise, they're both gonna tell you when you're wrong and won't explain why."

Christmas gifts were loaded with our luggage and we went back home. On the way, Beth got bitchy; she was probably tired. Still, I didn't want her talking to me or her mom the way she did, so I kinda yelled at her. I felt like shit afterwards. During a bathroom stop, Val told me I didn't do anything wrong. That was the first time I had to be stern with her. Beth fell asleep in the car later on, and then everything was back to normal when she woke up. I went to bed relieved but confused. The language of daughter...

On Christmas morning, we all lounged around in robes and opened gifts. After we'd eaten and cleaned up, I had some time to myself while Val and Beth were on the phone with my mom. I stepped outside to look at the snowy cedars in my backyard; there was a lot on my mind and I needed to get it in order. Val stepped out and stood next to me; her presence didn't distract me at all. She may not have understood how winter talked to me, but she accepted the relationship without a word.

*****

I stood at the windows in my living room on New Year's Day, laughing. Beth and Odin were out in the snow; she was building snowmen, and he was knocking them down. When Val came in the room, I sat down with her to ask about wedding plans. I got more of an answer than I expected.

From when she was a teen, Val had always dreamed of getting married in the big gazebo in Presque Isle Park. It's really a peninsula, not an island. Imagine 320 acres of woods bordered by beaches and low cliffs. I'd ridden and run the long loop through it a number of times. Val, Beth and I have also had quite a few picnics out there. The gazebo was out on the south end, surrounded by trees and close to a rocky shoreline. Some people would call it 'picturesque'. Some people have too much time on their hands.

Anyway, Val wanted to get married in the gazebo in autumn. Early October would be best, she said. She wanted the reception at the pavilion on the west side of the park. She knew the flowers she wanted, the decorations, what I'd wear, the food she wanted served, the wedding cake, everything down to the font for the invitations. I sat there for a while listening, trying to take it all in. I failed.

When Val finally finished explaining the details, I asked, "Do you mean this October, or next?"

She looked at me like I just insulted her. "Did you want to wait?"

"Uh, honey, it's your day. It's whenever you want."

"But did you want to wait?" she asked again. "It's your day, too."

"Uh, okay, open and honest? Hell no, I don't wanna wait. I'd marry you today if I could. I wanna call you my wife. I wanna call Beth my daughter. I'm impatient for it. But you have a picture in your head of how and when you want your wedding to be, and I want you to have it."

"So you like what I have in mind? And don't give me that 'whatever you want' line again."

"Yeah, your idea sounds really cool. The idea I had would get shot down in a heartbeat."

"Like what? Maybe we can add it in."

"Well, first of all, I'd have it in the winter, in a field of deep snow, and -"

"No."

"Wait a minute; I haven't got to the good part. So, I come in on my snowmobile -"

"No."

"Okay, I guess your idea is better. There's a thing or two we gotta agree on, though."

"Dan, if you're going to say you want to wear a blue tux with a yellow shirt..."

"No, you made it very clear what you'd like me to be wearing, and I've got no problem with it. One thing is unexpected guests. We made a list, and agreed we want a fairly small wedding. But if your mom starts inviting people on her own, I may have to set her on fire. Your dad might lend me a lighter."

"I'll make sure she doesn't do that, promise. I will also make sure Jess doesn't make a speech at the reception, but only if Jake's speech is rated PG."

"He hasn't told me he'd be making one, but I'll call him tomorrow to make sure. Okay, so there's another thing to think about. All those plans and details you just told me about... they sound great, but all that stuff combined isn't gonna be too cheap."

Val frowned. "I don't know if my dad has anything saved up for this..."

"Honey, I bet he has something stashed away. Lukas is a proud, traditional guy. I know the type."

"You _are_ the type."

"I was referring to my own dad, thanks. Anyway, he's going to insist on paying for stuff. Let's just buy some things that he might not notice. You know, flowers, decorations... other shit I can't think of. Tell him you already own the dress you wanna wear." With a child, Val didn't feel comfortable wearing a white wedding dress. "Tell him I knew what you wanted and rented the gazebo and pavilion before I even proposed. That basically leaves him with getting booze and the food."

"When we're over there for dinner next weekend, I'll pull him aside and run it by him."

"Alright, there's one last thing... the honeymoon."

Val grinned. "I have a few ideas about that too, but all I need for it is a bed."

"No, I didn't mean that, pervert. I meant are we bringing Beth?"

"Oh... I'd like to. What do you want?"

"I want that, too. We could go someplace kid-friendly, and still find little bits of time to be alone."

She grinned again and said, "Like we do now."

"Yeah, but here's the catch: If Odin can't go, Beth is gonna have a fit. She'll want him with us wherever we go, and I can't say I'd argue with her about it."

"Hmm, let me get this straight. For our honeymoon, we want something kid-friendly _and_ dog-friendly. With those things in mind, we probably don't want to go too far out of the way. We can't be gone too long because Beth is in school." She shook her head. "I guess we have to wait."

"Or... I play hooky from work one day, we light some candles, and then screw like rabbits until Beth's school bus drops her off. If we wanna do it again later, we'll just spike her Kool-Aid with Nyquil."

"I'll let you wear anything you want for our wedding if you stop making suggestions."

*****

I actually did have a problem with that; wanting to play hooky, I mean. With Val downstairs throughout the day, I'd sometimes get distracted and want to go visit her. Like I said before, I was highly organized (because of her) and didn't need an assistant anymore. I missed her stopping in the office as often as she used to. That wouldn't have bothered me so much if we weren't in the same house. When Val was online with one of her classes, though, she didn't take intrusion lightly. I respected her diligence, but dammit, I wanted to have some fun without worrying about making too much noise.

I didn't resent Beth for the small windows of opportunity for me and Val to be alone. I love that girl to death. I think the romance I couldn't give Val turned into attention given to Beth. Not to say that Val and I never had romantics moments, but that's what most of 'em were - moments. Foreplay had become Val sneaking me off to an empty room, and me pulling her underwear to the side.

Sure, there was some freedom lost, but ultimately I didn't mind. Every day, I became closer with Beth. Every day, my relationship with Val got stronger. My fluency in the languages of 'wife' and 'daughter' got better. Well, except for the times when I would confuse "being playful" with "dammit, stop that".

During the times that I needed to be alone, I'd escape to my office for a while; it was one of my quirks they seemed to put up with. Val cleared some space on one of my walls and bought me a huge framed photo of a winter scene. I could focus on it when there wasn't any snow outside. She knew that a screensaver would never do. She knew me well. She cared that much. I was never asked to explain.

By most standards, the wedding Val wanted was simple. I was only 23 at the time, clueless of all the shit getting hitched entails. On my electronics and on paper, I was given a list of the things we had to do before October. When I looked at it and freaked out, Val gave me an amended list of things _I_ had to do before October. It was much more reasonable, and I didn't have to change my underwear.

The gazebo and pavilion had to be rented for a specific day (Val and I decided on October 3rd). I knew the style of tux she wanted me to wear, and I needed to get matching ones for the guys. Since Val wanted a maid of honor and two bridesmaids, I had to pick friends or family to match them. I was also supposed to find a place for our rehearsal dinner that would accommodate over twenty; the total guest list was around forty people - more than I thought. The collar of my shirt got itchy.

*****

When I called Pete in early January, he answered his phone with, "Where's my damn invitation?"

"Calm down; Val's gettin' 'em together. You'll get one in less than a week. It's gonna be a package deal: announcement, invitation, RSVP cards, directions, save-the-date magnets - all in one envelope. I even made sure we used fancy lettering just for you, Nancy."

"Aw, you're gonna make me cry. Hey, ya know, I was talkin' with Grandpa about you and Val the other day. She and Beth seem really good for you, Danny; you're not nearly as weird anymore. It was a pretty smart move, you all living together before you get married. I wish Lori and I would've done that."

"Uh, is there a problem?"

"Nah, everything's great. It just took us a while to get used to it, ya know? But after five years, it's bread 'n butter now."

"I hope you're the butter there, Pete."

"Most days, yeah," he said. I could hear the grin in his words. "Is your, uh, cohabitation goin' good?"

"I love it, but I've never seen toilet paper disappear so fast."

"Ha! You just gave me an idea for your wedding gift."

"Yeah, about the wedding... I had a few questions."

"Danny, say 'I do' when the time comes, or else you won't make it out of there alive."

"Good advice, smartass. No, I meant... I was wondering if I should invite anyone from Mom's side."

"Except for Mike and Tim, did you see any of those bastards at anyone else's wedding? No, screw them. Mom's immediate family all but disowned her after she married a non-German."

"I was just tryin' to be polite, but that's fine by me. Now, uh, I gotta warn you when you come out for the wedding... Val's sister, Jessica... how do I put this nicely? She's an absolute frickin' moron."

Pete laughed. "That was putting it nicely?"

"Yeah, it was. A few months back, we had Jess and her turd boyfriend over for dinner. After dessert, Beth had some homework to finish. She came out later and asked about polygons. I made that old joke that polygons are dead parrots. Jess not only asked if that was true, she said that 'polygon' sounded Arabic and asked if I knew that language too." Pete's end of the line was silent for a few seconds, so I added, "Yeah that was my reaction, too."

He finally said, "Wow, just... wow. Tell me she's not breeding."

"No, no kids. Look, Jess is nice, and she's pretty damn hot, but that's about it. I'm just giving you fair warning: don't let your kids hang around her for too long or they'll be repeating first grade."

"What about the rest of Val's family?"

"Her mom was a real bitch at first, but she's better now. Her dad Lukas and her brother Ben are good guys. Like us, the Maki's aren't church-goers, so Ben's getting ordained online. He's going to marry us himself so we don't have to deal with getting a Lutheran minister to do it."

"Hey, that's good way to go."

"So, yeah, about that... I was hoping you'd be standing there with me as my best man." I'd always had the highest respect for Pete. In different ways, he and Dad and Grandpa were the men I admired most. Asking my grandpa to be my best man felt weird, and I could never really talk to my dad like I could with Grandpa or Pete. Jake's a great guy too, but I honestly never looked up to him.

"Damn, Danny, I'm... really honored. I'd be happy as hell to give you away, princess."

"Thanks, jackass."

"I figured you'd ask one of your friends; maybe one of your high school buddies, or someone you got to know from Fargo or out there in yooper country."

"Nah, I lost touch with Billy and Zach after school; I have no clue where they're at now. I never got close to anyone in Fargo except Scott. I did meet a real nice couple out here, though; I want Rob to be one of my groomsmen. I'm gonna ask Jake to be the other one. Val wants Andrea to be a bridesmaid along with her sister. Do you think I could get little Joe to be the ring-bearer? I'll rent him a snappy tux."

"Yeah, he's a showoff. I bet he'd like to be the star of his Uncle Danny's wedding."

"He'll have to work fast; the actual wedding is only gonna be like fifteen or twenty minutes long. But please, don't let him do that crazy dance down the aisle. You know; that one he did for all of us at Thanksgiving? It was funny as hell, though, so tell him to save it for the reception. And don't let him wear his cowboy hat until after I'm married, okay?"

"Not a problem, little brother. So, what about the bachelor party? As your best man, it's my job to throw one for ya. It's up to you, Danny: strippers, gambling... anything where you're tempted to make some really bad decisions."

"No thanks. I want something casual, like yours was. Let's just have some burgers and beer at my place. The only bad decision I could make there is letting Dad man the grill."

*****

Val began working wedding plans into her daily schedule. The details made her happy rather than tense. She asked for my input on a few things, but otherwise she took care of it. Beth gladly took on the role of her little assistant. I felt like I needed to be doing something productive as well. During a jog in early March, Rob said something about getting another car to restore. That became my new project.

Rob's dad knew about a huge salvage yard about an hour away near the Wisconsin border. We all went out there to look around. Besides acres of trails and rusty wrecks, there were two huge barns out on the property with more cars inside. That's where I found it.

Stuck in a back aisle was a '59 AMC Rambler American Super. Underneath faded and peeling paint, the body was in great shape and had no rust. Sections of the floor pan and truss rods did, though. It was a two-door automatic with a good engine. The differential needed to be rebuilt, the suspension needed some work, and I wanted to switch the drum brakes to disc. It also needed a new master cylinder and some modifications to the dash. I could live with that, especially for what I paid for it. Yay me.

Most parts for my new project car couldn't be found at a chain auto parts store, so we scavenged what we could from a scrapped '62 Rambler wagon out on the lot. We pushed my car out of the barn and onto a trail so Rob's dad could load it onto the trailer of his tow truck. Luckily, none of the wheels were locked up. We got back to Marquette four hours after we left. I bought us lunch, and told Rob's dad I'd be sending him some business soon... mostly because I didn't have a car-lift or an arc welder.

When the car was unloaded at home, I was surprised to find Val angry at me. She thought I was being irresponsible for buying an expensive hobby when we had at least part of a wedding to pay for. My income and regular savings easily covered everything, and she knew that. So, after asking for the fifth time what the real problem was, Val admitted how stressed out she was. I reminded her that she wanted to do most of it on her own, and that she seemed pretty happy to do so. She started crying and said the pressure was getting to her.

I reminded Val that we still had six months to get everything ready, and I'd help whenever she asked. Still, there was no way in hell I was giving up the Rambler. Talking with Andrea later, she suggested that me finding something else to do instead of continuing to offer my help for the wedding might've made Val feel like I didn't care. If that was true, I was in a 'lose-lose' situation. The ridiculous reasoning behind it sounded like part of the 'wife language' I obviously didn't understand yet.

I booked the pavilion in Presque Isle Park for the rehearsal dinner, the same place we were gonna have the reception. The pavilion's indoor room was fire-coded for over sixty people, so it was plenty big. Likewise, the covered outdoor patio attached to it could seat the same amount. Indoors, there was a stove, two refrigerators and a nice centerpiece fireplace. Outdoors, there was another fireplace, plus a permanent grill that could cook fifty burgers at once. I asked (i.e. paid) Phil and a few of his employees from Gunnar's to cook up some casual food for us then. Val liked the idea, which was a relief.

*****

By the end of April, I'd figured a few things out. One, I recognized signs; I knew when to ask Val if she wanted help, and when to leave her alone. Two, there wasn't much more I could do with my given wedding chores until a few says before it happened. Three, I didn't think I was going to have the Rambler fully restored by October. I wanted it to be used instead of a limo.

My plan - which Val agreed to - was to have Lukas drive her to the aisle runner; it would run from the road, through some trees along a curving path, between chairs set on the open green space, and up to the gazebo. The distance is shorter than I made it sound - eighty feet or so. He'd walk her up, we'd get hitched, and then we'd run back out to the Rambler and take off. We were gonna do a lap on the long looping park road and go back after non-photo guests went to the reception.

So, I had to order some specialty parts for the Rambler ahead of time, and more work than I intended was sent off to two different shops. No matter what, it was gonna be in showroom shape by October.

Parent-teacher conferences were in early May. Val asked me to go with her - more uncharted territory. I didn't know if that was okay, but I was happy to go. Still, I called Lauren to get her expert opinion. She told me that I was welcome to be there, especially since Beth had improved her grades even further in the last year or so (implying since she and Val moved in with me). I took that as a big ol' compliment.

We met Beth's other teachers besides Lauren. They all had good things to say about her; how involved with classroom discussions she was, how social and creative she was. One of the teachers was glad to meet me since I was the one teaching Finnish to Beth. He urged me to teach her other languages as well; even if she never gained fluency, the mental exercise was nothing but beneficial. I could've pointed out some of the drawbacks of having too many languages floating around upstairs, but I just agreed.

*****

I was sitting out in the side yard on a tarp one sunny Saturday morning in late May, restoring all the Rambler chrome. Val came out of the house with Beth and hurried to her car, saying something about a sale before they got in and took off. Not ten minutes later, Val's best friend (and maid of honor) Sara pulled up in the driveway.

Sara needs to be explained. Simply put, she's kind of a badass; like a biker without a gang... or a bike. Sara does everything that a stereotypical yooper guy would do, but probably better. She hunts, drinks beer, ice-fishes, and she's into snowmobile racing and riding mountain trails. With any spare time, Sara likes to keep putting little upgrades on her truck - a Ford Ranger with oversized off-road tires. Back in high school, I was told she played softball and lacrosse. They wouldn't let her on the football team.

A logical conclusion would be that Sara was a lesbian. Not even close. She went through men faster than we went through toilet paper. She's a fairly cute gal; a few inches taller than Val, athletic build, and always kept her long blonde hair in a single braid. The full sleeve tattoo on her right arm was nicely done. Val and Sara had been friends since grade school, and they've always stood up for one another. Consequently, Sara and Val's mom hated each other. That immediately made me like her.

Since Val moved in with me, Sara visits often and has an open invitation to stop by. She keeps busy, so she never stays long. She's watched Beth for us a couple of times when we wanted a date night. She's crashed on our couch a few times; on two occasions, she was hammered at a bar and called for one of us to come pick her up. The other time was bailing her out after she got in a fight at the bowling alley, where she beat up a woman... and the woman's boyfriend.

Anyway, Sara pulled up and hopped out. She was wearing a t-shirt that said: _'Yooper seven-course meal; a pasty and a six-pack'_. I wanted one; the shirt, not the meal. "What's up, Danny boy?" she asked as she walked over and stood in front of me.

"Hey, you just missed 'em. I'm not sure where they went."

"Ishpeming; there's a sale at a bridal shop out there. I called and told her."

"Why didn't you go with her?"

"Not my thing, and... I wanted to talk to you without her around."

Sara could be a flirt, but she looked serious right then. "Uh oh, what's wrong?"

"There's a thing or two I can't talk to Val about, but I need somebody in the mix. Her brother Benny isn't a good choice for what's buggin' me, and I don't know him too well anyway. You're the guy I need to talk to. We might have a problem."

"Uh, alright... Did you want a brew? I have some in the house."

"Nah - rain check, though. Okay, so, the first thing is... I'm gonna have to give a toast, right?"

"Oh, you mean at the reception? Uh, you don't have to, but it'd be nice if you did."

"Yeah, I will for Val' sake, but the thought of speaking in front of a crowd makes me piss my pants. That's not something I wanna tell her right now. You told me a while back about talking to a class full of kids at the college, how nervous you were. How'd you get past that?"

"Well, I know a couple tricks. If you're facing the crowd, look at foreheads or hair; you'll mess up if you lock eyes with anyone. And don't try that 'picture everyone naked' shit, it doesn't work. Your best move is to look straight at Val and block everyone else out. You can find short speech ideas online, or just say what you want. We only care that you're there, Sara, so it's up to you."

"Okay, I'll give it a shot," she said with a nod. Sara was nothing if not confident.

"Was that it?"

"No; the other thing is the real problem: Rose. Val's told me that they had a sit-down like over a year ago, and since then everything's been better."

"I've noticed a change, yeah. It's like she started taking 'decent-human-being' pills."

"Well I'm not buyin' it, Danny. Rose might be really trying, or she might just be puttin' on a face. Either way, she's still a narrow-minded, arrogant bitch underneath. I'm worried that a few drinks at the reception is gonna loosen her tongue and she'll let an insult slip out. She might put frilly words around it, but Val will know. Even one tiny snide comment could mess things up. And I swear, Danny, if that happens, I'm gonna knock her goddamn teeth in."

Sara had a good point. "Alright, look... Val and I can't really stop Rose if she wants to say a few words, but maybe Val's dad can. I can't bring this up to him directly without being rude, but I bet Ben could. I'll talk to him next weekend; he and Faye are comin' over then."

"I hope that works, I really do. But I doubt it." Then she grinned. "I'll have a back-up plan, just in case."

"No blood or screaming at my wedding, Sara. I'm not kidding."

"Nope, there's no way I'll ruin Val's day. Thanks for the advice, Danny boy. You've given me a good idea." Sara gave me wink with that grin and then left.

I didn't think I said anything wrong or misleading, but I knew that little chat was eventually gonna come around and bite my ass.

*****

Beth finished school in early June, and Val got through with her latest block of online classes just over a week later. Most of the wedding plans were set, so my fiancée and future step-daughter had lots of time to themselves. It was good to see Val enjoying some freedom, with no worries in the back of her mind.

My work kept me fairly busy throughout the days, but I made time in the evenings. We watched movies or went to the theater mostly, but one night we heard a report and drove out north of town to watch an uncommon sighting of northern lights. I'd seen pale green ribbons in the sky once or twice back in North Dakota; they were nothing compared to what we watched that night. Dancing bands of green, lime, orange and red curved and shimmered out over Lake Superior. Reflections glowed on the water. Val filmed it all. I don't care if my description makes me sound like a sissy; it was cool.

The fourth of July was spent pretty much like the year before, except we all skipped the parade. Oh, Ben and Faye were invited to hang out with us and the Anderson's; we all had a good time. Later in the day as we sat around and ate, Rob asked me, "Your birthday is on Tuesday, right?"

"Yeah... and no, you can't have any of my cake."

"You might offer me some yet. My dad has some of the Rambler parts ready, and he wants you to come verify the paint color. Plus, I have a birthday gift for you. How about we head over there Monday?"

"He and the guys finished already? Awesome; Monday is good for me."

"I'll pick you up around five or so after I get off work." Rob turned to Val and asked, "Do you mind having dinner a little later? We might be gone a couple hours."

"No, that's fine. As a matter of fact, I still have some of Ben's ground venison and pounds of hamburger that I can thaw. Why don't all of you come over around seven and we'll have a taco buffet?"

Everyone liked the idea. I always liked taco buffet nights, but I was more excited about going to Rob's dad's shop. Beth asked if she could go with us. She'd never shown much interest in my mechanical hobbies before, so I figured she only wanted to see the paint color I had in mind.

The next day, a Sunday, was a lazy day except for a morning jog. Val and I were on the couch reading when I abruptly called Beth to come out and join us. "There's something I've been planning for a while," I said, "and I wanna tell you about it. I've been thinking about us going on vacation somewhere, but we'd have problems bringing Odin. You still don't wanna go on a long trip without him, do you, Beth?"

"Huh uh, I'd feel bad if he couldn't go with us."

"Me too; so, I came up with an idea. There's lots of stuff to do up here in yooper land, and I don't think any of us have done 'em. Instead of going somewhere for a while with lots of long, boring travel, I think we should have a bunch of mini-vacations."

"Fantastic!" Val replied with a smile. "What kind of vacations?"

"That's a secret, but I will tell you this: with each mini-vacation, we'll leave in the morning and be back in the afternoon. Odin can stay and guard the house. We'll start next weekend."

"Yes!" Beth yelled. "How many minis do we get? Can we do more than one a day?"

"Well, I need to space 'em out just a little because I'll be working on a big project." To Val, I explained, "I'll be getting a lot of documentation from Skanska on another Finland build. Anyway," I said to both of them, "we'll have a mini-vacation every other day for thirteen days. How does that sound?"

Beth counted on her fingers. "That's seven minis, right?"

I nodded, and Val asked, "Why are they a secret?"

"Because I wanna surprise you," I answered. She and Beth gave each other a strange look when I said that. "But, okay, I'll say this: vacation days two, four and six involve water. That's all you get."

"Dan," Val said, "A slip 'n slide out in the backyard will _not_ count as a vacation."

"You should be so lucky; slip 'n slides are fun. And just for your information, over half of these vacations involved me having to make reservations."

"C'mon, tell us!" Beth pleaded.

"What sort of reservations?" Val asked.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you one more thing, and that's it. They're all fun, but each one gets better. Number seven is a doozey."

"What is number seven? Please tell me what seven is!" Beth begged.

"Nope, you'll have to wait and see - too bad, so sad."

When Beth began stomping around the house and groaning dramatically, Val scooted closer and said, "This is very sweet of you, but... are you sure we can afford it?"

"Two words: fracking money. There's plenty to spare."

"Alright, well," she scooted even closer, "is there something I could do for you? You know, in exchange for more clues about these vacations of yours?"

"Oh, hell yeah, I can think of a few things, but not right now." I turned and called to Beth down the hall, "Go get some shoes on, sugar. I want you to come with me to Walmart."

"What're you going there for?" Val asked.

"A slip 'n slide."

*****

The next day, Rob came over to pick me up. Lauren came with him; she went to hang out with Val, and Beth came with me. She liked Rob's old truck. Except for the color, I thought it was pretty cool, too. At his dad's shop, we looked over the finished parts and loaded 'em. Then we checked out the dried paint sample for the body, a light green that I thought matched Val's and Beth's eyes.

Rob then gave me four heavy boxes - the birthday gift he mentioned. They were a matched set of vintage-style chromed wheels with a space around the baby-moon hub to add a color to match the car. They were awesome. I'd been thinking of getting modern wheels, but those were just too perfect.

When we all got back to my house, there was an unfamiliar car parked out front. I went in first, curious about who else was there. A chorus of "Happy birthday!" greeted me from over a dozen people. Val came toward me, smiling wide at my stunned expression. She gave me a kiss and said she'd been planning it for over two months. Beth told everyone she was becoming a pro at keeping secrets.

Besides Rob and Lauren, the guests at my surprise party were Andrea and Scott, Ben and Faye, Jess and her loser boyfriend, Sara and some guy I've never met, granny Aila (it was her car out front), Jarmo and Ollie, Bill and Gail Olson from across the street, and a couple other of Val's friends. The special guest was back in the kitchen: my cousin Axel.

"You sneaky prick," I said to him as we shook hands. "You said you wouldn't be able to visit until early September. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Your beautiful fiancée asked me to tell a small lie. It was completely worth the look on your face."

"My birthday is actually tomorrow. Come back then."

We noticed people staring at us with strange grins. Then I realized that we were speaking Swedish.

I went over to Val later and said into her ear, "No more vacation clues, but you still owe me favors."

"Fair enough," she replied with a smile.

The party was great. My house was filled with food and conversation and laughter. Only once did I feel the need to escape into my office and stare at the picture of snow, but I held off until later. Sara ignored her date and hit on Axel. Jessica's boyfriend was caught making a big doggy-bag of our food; we quietly told Jess to get him out of our house before Ben and/or Sara beat him up. Jarmo told dirty jokes when Beth wasn't nearby. I gave Rob a big slice of my cake and told him to shut up.

Val's old bed was set up downstairs for Andrea and Scott so they wouldn't have to drive back home that night. Axel crashed on the living room couch. In the morning, Val and I cooked a big breakfast for everyone. It didn't compare to one of my mom's meals, but then again nothing could.

Axel stayed an extra day, but had to move on and meet some other travelling friends down in Chicago. Before he left, he gave us a gift and apologized that he couldn't be there for our wedding. It was a set of engraved crystal bride-and-groom drinking flutes. Val wrote herself a reminder to use them at our reception. I said my farewells to Axel, glad that I got to see him again after so long.

*****

The day of the first mini-vacation had come. Half an hour away was an amusement park with a few rides, putt-putt golf and a go-cart track. Val and I took turns riding on the ferris wheel with Beth. I kicked their butts at golf. We let Beth win the go-cart race. It was a good starting vacation.

For vacation number two, we rented a big pontoon boat on Lake Superior. First, we cruised along the coastline and checked out all the cool rock formations. Then we went to a fishing spot I was told about and got out the bait and rented poles. Beth had a good time, and was really excited when she caught a lake trout; excited enough that we had to let her get in the water to pee. All my bait was nibbled, but Val brought in three good-sized fish. We had them for dinner.

We had to drive about an hour for the third vacation. We went to a privately owned zoo with a wide variety of animals. Their enclosures were big, too. We got to feed some animals and pet others. There was an area where Beth got to hold piglets, young sheep, rabbits, and a baby kangaroo. Half our time there was spent washing our hands, but none of us minded.

Vacation four was white water rafting. I had to find a mild run that would accept kids, which wasn't too easy. The one I booked turned out to be pretty fun, much better than a slip 'n slide. We were on a big raft with a guide and a high school couple. Everyone was nice and sociable. The slow parts of the river had good scenery, and the rapids were enough to make all the females scream.

The longest drive I had to make was for vacation number five, just over an hour away. We went hiking on some high trails that led us to a landing. Up there were employees of a zip line company, waiting for us. They were entertaining, they knew what they were doing, and they were gentle putting on Beth's harness. I was excited to go, Beth was a mix of excited and scared, and Val was just plain scared. By the third line, though, they both wanted to keep doing it all day.

Vacation six was on an inland lake with warm water. I rented speedboat with ropes and inner-tubes. Val didn't want me to go very fast when it was her turn. Beth wanted me to bury the throttle while she tried to hold on. On her extended turn, I turned into a wave and she went sailing off the tube. Beth looked like a flying spider in a life jacket; I laughed my ass off. Val got panicky, but Beth was laughing. When I was out on the tube, Val intentionally tried to knock me off at top speed. She succeeded.

I said that the last mini-vacation was a doozey, and my girls thought so, too. We drove up to the regional airport and took a chartered helicopter tour. When Beth found out, we had to wait for her to pee before we could go. We flew over Marquette and the whole area. The helicopter had a mounted camera, and we got a video of our flight; it was smooth, especially compared to our cellphone footage. The whole damn ride was incredible. I had to promise we'd do it again sometime.

By the end of our vacations we each had hundreds of pictures and hours of video, and Beth had stories to tell her friends. Just one of the minis was easily worth the time and planning for all of them. It gave me a better appreciation for how Val felt about the wedding. She'll yell at me for that comparison.

*****

We all went back into our routines until the latter half of September, when the wedding buzz hit in full force. Ben was ready, Lukas was ready, I was ready (pretty much), and Val was a giddy-tense bottle of carbonated energy that had just been shaken.

Rob and his dad helped me finish the Rambler. The paint job was immaculate, the chrome was spotless, the updated dash gauges fit perfectly, and the cream color of the new leather seats and carpet was a good match with the green. My expensively refurbished Rambler easily passed inspection. Not only that, the upgrades I made (carburetor, intake, exhaust and fuel pump) gave it some good power. After three coats of wax, it was ready for the wedding, too.

For the most part, I was just waiting for my family to get into town. The Rylander clan showed up four days before the wedding. Dad called me as they were checking in at a hotel; they all came over that night after they got settled. Just like with my birthday party, my house felt small with so many people in it. Val and Beth made everyone feel right at home. Odin kept trying to herd little Joe and Paula; protecting them, I guess. Beth held Max until they were both asleep on the couch.

The next day, Andrea, Lori, Mom and Sara helped Val with whatever else she needed (Megan babysat all the kids at my house). The women inspected the gazebo and pavilion, made sure the DJ, photographer and videographer knew exactly what was expected, and then went to get their dresses. I pitied anyone who had to cross their path. Cops would've gotten out of the way of that group.

Meanwhile, I showed the Rylander men around town. We had a nice lunch with Rob and then picked up our tuxes. Rob truly enjoyed himself while my brothers made fun of me. Later on, Pete and I went back out for a shitload of hamburger and beer. Ben called and said he'd contribute some venison and local brews. The mood was light all day. I was mellow, which, all things considered, was a frickin' miracle.

*****

At my relaxed bachelor party, Grandpa, Dad, Pete, Jake, Lukas, Scott and Rob were all sitting around on my deck drinking beer and waiting for food to come off the grill. Ben was cooking that day. Introductions had been made, and everybody seemed to be in good spirits. Maybe it was the beer.

Most of the topics circled around the wedding and Val's plans for it. Jake announced to everyone, "Wait 'til all of you see me in my tux." At the rental place, he made sure it fit and then took it right back off. "When folks ain't lookin' at the bride, they'll be lookin' at me. I'm gonna be turnin' some heads."

"Yeah, the other way," my dad joked. It was rare, so we made sure to laugh.

"First of all, Jake," I said, pointing my bottle of beer at him, "you're married, so settle down. Secondly, I saw you in your tux; you were about as sexy as a fire at a puppy mill."

"You're just jealous, Danny." Jake turned to Ben and told him, "Speakin' of fire, move three of those burgers off to the side, would ya? I like mine kinda rare."

Rob gave me a dubious look. "Yeah," I said quietly to him, "Three; he can eat like a horse. You don't get to be his size without scarfin' it down like hyenas are waitin' to steal it."

"What was that?" Jake asked.

"I was saying you eat like you have more than one rectum. You eat like you're trying to win a $20 bet. You eat like a refugee with a care package. Do you want me to go on?"

"Hey, why am I the target here? You should be gettin' the attention today."

"That's true," Pete said. He turned to Lukas and Rob. "You may think of Dan as a good guy, and he is, but you probably don't know everything about him. Not bad stuff - there's no bad stuff... that I know of. I'm talking about basic facts. Maybe he's still shy, or maybe he just forgets to mention things. Either way, my brother isn't exactly an open book."

"Don't I know it," Rob said as he glanced at me. "We'd been jogging together for over a year, and he never told me he was a high school track star."

"You were, eh?" Ben asked me.

Before I could answer, Rob continued. "He wasn't the one who said so, either," he said to Ben. "Your sister told me. By her attitude, she just found out, too."

"What is the big deal?" I asked.

"I'm making a point," Pete said. Facing Lukas and Rob again, he asked, "Has Danny told you how many languages he speaks?"

"Dere was some local news story a long while back..." Lukas said. "Valerie showed it to me; eight or nine languages, I think. But I know he's learned Finnish since he moved here, so maybe ten."

"Twelve," Dad informed them. "Including English, your mother told me you're up to a dozen now, and you're flirtin' with another one. I can't remember what she said it was."

I sighed. "Lithuanian, Dad, but that's for work; there's these new food processor machines -"

"Yeah, yeah - blah, blah," Pete interrupted, grinning. "We can't keep track of the others, so who cares."

Rob turned to me. "Twelve languages now and you never said a word. What else haven't you told me?"

Jake said, "How about that he took a step-ladder out into a cow pasture and lost his virginity."

"Food's ready," Ben said loudly over everyone's laughter.

As we all sat back on chairs and loungers with plates of food, my dad sat next to me. After a few bites, he quietly said, "All those languages may earn you a paycheck, but what's important now is how well you understand your future wife."

"I think I got a good handle on it," I responded in the same low tone. "Any yes is conditional. Buying her chocolate once every four weeks could save my life. Any little requests, like my beard, are agreed to. A glare saves the time of getting yelled at. Her personal space expands with how mad she is. Hugs are better than flowers, but they both work. Random gifts, even cheap ones, go a long way. I know when to leave her alone; she knows the same about me. And, over half the time, she doesn't like waking up to the feeling of her butt being used like a hotdog bun."

"Yeah, you'll be alright."

*****

The rehearsal and the dinner following both went smoothly. The atmosphere was lively, the food was great, and everyone seemed to get along. The only person to make a speech was Val; she stood on a chair and thanked everyone for coming and being a part of our wedding. Just after, Pate and Jake told her that once she said the big "I do", there were no refunds. She asked to talk to their manager.

I slept in Rob and Lauren's spare room that night. It'd been a long time since I slept alone, and I wasn't too fond of it. I didn't even have Odin there to keep me company. Rob fixed breakfast the next morning. Lauren left soon after to go help the other ladies with last-minute details. All of the Rylander and Maki men were invited over to Rob's house for lunch, and as a staging area for the three o'clock wedding.

Hours later, we (the groom's party) were at the big gazebo. The dark green aisle runner was laid out and secured. Little speakers ran the length of it and up onto the gazebo, all wired to a CD player. Decorations of green ribbons and flowers were set up nicely. There were a few puffy clouds in the blue sky, the temp was in the mid- fifties, and the leaves on the trees all around were gold and green and red. The sound of water lapping against rocks could be heard nearby. Everything was gorgeous, just how Val wanted it.

I was wearing a charcoal grey, three-piece tux with a matching light green vest and tie over a white shirt. Pete, little Joe, Jake and Rob all wore three-piece tuxes too, but their vests were grey and their ties were grass green - all per Val's insistence. I thought we all looked pretty sharp, but I didn't pay too much attention to fashion at the time.

Rob and Ben and my brothers hung out with me at the nearby lakeshore until about five 'til three. Then we came around the gazebo, went to our designated places, and waited. Light music played through the speakers. The small crowd was either gazing all around at the natural beauty, or were smiling at me. Sara and the bridesmaids arrived wearing green dresses, and waited back near the road with Pete and my groomsmen. I was so damn nervous, but the excited kind.

Mom gave me a proud, reassuring smile from her seat up front, just like she always did at my track meets. Grandpa Eli winked at me - his trusted signal that everything was gonna be okay.

Through the autumn leaves, I saw my green Rambler pull up in the near-distance. The chosen wedding music began. Rob escorted Jessica down the aisle, then Jake and Andrea, followed by Pete and Sara. When they all got to their places on the stairs or up on the gazebo with me and Ben, Lukas came around the Rambler and opened the door for Val. Everyone stood. I barely noticed.

She looked stunning. In a light green wedding dress with lacy sleeves that matched my vest and tie, Val was easily the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Her chestnut hair was in some fancy design with small white flowers in it. She clutched her bouquet like she was never gonna let it go. Her shy smile and simple elegance left me speechless... which wasn't a good thing to be on my wedding day.

Lori quietly directed little four-year-old Joe to go down the aisle with the silk pillow. He came about halfway to us, got nervous, and ran the rest of the way. Beth followed with her basket, sprinkling green, white, yellow and red rose petals. She grinned at me and began moving to the side, but stopped when I motioned for her to come up to me. She hopped up the stairs and put her small hand in mine.

"This isn't what we practiced yesterday," Beth whispered. "What am I doing up here?"

"You're my daughter. I want you here with us, okay?"

Lukas walked his daughter toward me. At that moment, I didn't see anything else but Valerie's dimpled smile and big green eyes. I came down the three steps, shook Lukas's hand, and brought Val back up with me to Beth and Ben. After the flower basket was set aside, Beth held both our hands. She had her back to the crowd, but I didn't care; right then, the wedding wasn't about anyone else but us.

Ben didn't quote scriptures or anything; none of us were bible people. He spoke for about ten minutes about what love and marriage were, about me and Val, and about the commitment he saw between us. It was a really nice speech, or whatever it's called. He was surprisingly eloquent, so I figured that Faye helped him with what to say. His yooper accent made it unique.

Then it was time for the rings. Pete handed me Val's, I held her hand and waited for Ben to ask the wedding vow question. But he'd changed it. "Do you, Daniel Hans Rylander, promise your love and devotion to dis woman as your wife, to never knowingly embarrass her in public... again, to kill any spider in da house, to remain patient when she talks during a movie, to accept dat she will get mad at you because of a dream she had, and to cherish her for da rest of your days?"

I waited until the chuckles died, then said "I do," with a grin and slipped on her ring.

After Sara gave Val my ring, Ben said, "Do you, Valerie Ann Maki, promise your love and devotion to dis man as your husband, to act like you care when he explains vehicle maintenance, to remind him when he's not speaking English, to remain patient when he gives da dog more attention den he does to you, to accept dat he's a Vikings fan, and to cherish him for da rest of your days?"

She said "I do" with a wide smile, and forced my ring over my knuckle.

Then I turned to Beth and knelt. "Sugar, I promise to love and protect you. I promise to help you with your homework. I promise to try and not to be a dork in front of your friends. I promise we'll go fishing more often. I promise to teach you a new secret language so your mom doesn't know what we're saying. I promise to teach you how to drive way before you can get a license. I promise I will scare the heck out of your boyfriends. I promise to be there whenever you need me, and even when you don't. Okay?"

She didn't say anything, but a smile and a hug was enough of an answer.

I pulled a necklace from a tux pocket and put it on her. It was a thin gold chain holding a small gold ring with _'I love you'_ inscribed inside. It earned me another smile.

When I stood up, Ben said I could kiss my bride. He then announced us as husband and wife.

The guests applauded as Val, Beth and I hurried to the Rambler and took off. We leisurely cruised along the park road, got back to the gazebo, and spent a long time taking photos. The photographer let everyone else go to the reception, and then took more shots of me and my girls on the lakeshore. The guy made sure I got my money's worth.

*****

All of our guests were at the pavilion when we arrived. With the mild weather, everyone was out on the covered patio. The DJ announced our arrival, and we went from table to table saying hi while drinks and food began being served.

Not five minutes later, Rose quietly began complaining of an upset stomach. Lukas discreetly escorted her to the restrooms inside. I glanced over at Sara; she winked at me. Lukas came back alone, casually shrugged, and sat back down. Throughout the rest of the evening, Rose kept making trips back and forth. We didn't see much of her, heard even less, and no one seemed to mind.

Half an hour or so later, the DJ asked for speeches and toasts. Pete came over next to where Val and I sat, took the microphone, and rested his hand on my shoulder. He faced the crowd of guests and said, "First, I'd like to thank everyone involved in helping to make this a beautiful wedding. Valerie, you look gorgeous, and Dan, well... you're here, and that's enough.

"I always wondered about Dan. He was the weird one in the family. He was plain awful at ranching. Even working twice as hard as everyone else, it didn't help. So, Danny gave up on cattle and turned his attention to machinery. He kept every vehicle on the ranch running, which was great, and we were glad he had that talent. But then he'd come in for meals speaking some language none of us understood - a different one for every day of the week - and he became my weird little brother again.

"Then Dan moved away. I wondered about him living alone out in Fargo. He watched out for my sister Andrea while she went to college out there, though, so I wasn't worried about anyone giving her any problems. Danny might've been the runt of the litter, but he had a lot of scrap in him. He gave me and my brothers a run for our money when we wrestled or fought. I think that's how he learned to run so fast, escaping us when he really pissed us off.

"Then Danny's little one-man translation business really picked up, and he moved here to Marquette. I wondered why he went even further away; the thought of him being truly on his own scared us. To be fair, he could make any machine work and drive it, or run wherever he needed to go, but what's the point when he's lost after a hundred yards? None of us were going to drive twelve hours to come find him four blocks from his own house, looking around like a dementia patient.

"A while after being here, Danny told all of us back home that he'd met a girl. I wondered if he knew what he was getting himself into. More importantly, I wondered if this girl knew what _she_ was getting herself into. We heard more about her as time went on; that she was good to him, that he'd never met anyone like her before, and that she had a charming daughter. I wondered if my little brother was ready for the responsibility of a child, especially when he still acted like one.

"And then, finally, I met Valerie and Bethany, and I stopped wondering. Danny has always been a good man, but with them - because of them - he was better. This beautiful woman and her beautiful girl came into his lonely life and made it one to be envious of. I'm proud to call Val and Beth my family. I'm proud that Danny has done so well for himself, and I don't mean his oddly-named company. Val, I don't know where he'd be without you; probably driving in circles wondering how to get home."

Sara spoke next, clearly nervous. She started out by thanking the Maki's for a beautiful wedding, and then turned to me and Val and said a few complimentary words. We raised our glasses to her toast, just as we'd done with Pete's.

Val and I made a short speech together. Nothing fancy, just thanking everyone for sharing the best day of our lives. We felt that thanking each other was a private thing. Lukas stood, doted on his daughter for a minute, said a few nice things about me, and told everyone to have a good time. My dad stood next and said the shortest toast humanly possible. I'm surprised he stood up in the first place.

When the DJ asked if there were any other toasts, Jake hurried over. I had no way to brace myself for the impending embarrassment, so I took a big swig of champagne. So did Val.

"I'm actually using this toast as a chance to apologize to my little brother Dan," Jake began. "He has a beautiful new wife and a great new family, and I want a clean slate between us. So, here I go. Dan, I'm sorry I woke you up with a foghorn all those times. I'm sorry I put honey on the collars of your shirts every summer. I'm sorry that I never stopped Andrea from dressing you up in her clothes and Mom's makeup... and I'm sorry I took pictures of it."

"I want those pictures!" Val yelled.

"Lucky you, that's your wedding gift. Anyway, Danny, I'm sorry I kept greasing the handle of your wood ax. I'm sorry about staining all your pants with coffee to make it look like you peed yourself. I'm sorry I wiped boogers in your hair. I'm sorry we gathered all those ants in a jar and dumped them on you while you were sleeping. I'm sorry I glued rice in your underwear and made you think you had pubic lice. And to you, Val," he gestured to me with a frown and said to her, "I'm just sorry."

We had our first dance as husband and wife; she picked that sappy slow song she loved so much. Soon after was the cake-cutting (no, we didn't smash it in each other's faces), followed by the bouquet toss. Sara caught it, and I silently gave my condolences to whoever she married.

*****

Ben and Faye kept Beth that night to give us at least a little time alone. Val and I were so emotionally drained that we didn't even consummate; we got out of our clothes and fell asleep.

The consummation happened the next morning, although the mood changed for a minute when Val started crying right in the middle of it. There was no sobbing as she looked down at me, just tears. It kinda ruined my good mood. "Damn, honey, if I'm this bad at it..."

"I'm happy, you jerk."

"Could you be happy later?" I asked with a smile. "I'm tryin' to have sex here."

She slapped me on the chest, and then wiggled her hips. That kept the soldier at attention. "I love you, Daniel Rylander. I wanted to say it first this time, with us as a married couple."

"If you keep moving around like that and teasing me, I'll be the first one to do something else with us as a married couple."

And so began my marital bliss. Nothing really changed except for me getting used to a ring on my finger and my insurance rates dropping. Beth went back to school, I got back to work, and Val assisted me until more of her online classes started after the big holidays.

We immediately began the legal bullshit of me adopting Beth. We filled out the fill-in-the-blanks form, had Child Services send the bio father a form of consent, and hoped for the best. Just over a week later, we were told that the consent was signed. The scumbag gave up all rights to his own daughter so he could stop paying child support. A part of me wanted to beat the shit out of him for being a heartless piece of shit, for throwing away the best kid ever. Another part of me was glad he did.

After that news was applied to our case, a court investigator asked all of us some routine questions on lifestyle, background and any legal history. All that was left was to wait on our court date. Beth was just as anxious as me, which really tickled my heart.

In early November, we stood in a courtroom and waited for the judge to make it legal. Faye, Rob and Sara had taken off work to be there for us. Beth danced in place, like she had to pee. She probably did. While the judge reviewed our case, my little girl kept whispering, "Please, please, please". My throat got tight. Then the judge stated Beth's new legal last name and granted me full rights as an adoptive father. We all hugged, I retrieved our documents, and we celebrated out in the hallway.

The icing on the cake was that snow was falling when we all stepped out of the courthouse. The first storm of winter had begun, and it was a big 'un. On the way home, the radio was already reporting school closings. We planned to have people over for a party that night, but it had to be cancelled. Beth was a little bummed until I said we could get on the sled and go visit friends and family who were gonna be off work the next say. I noticed that she and I had almost the same happy dance.

The snow was still coming down the next morning, with over a foot of fresh powder on the ground. My snow-blower got a workout, especially since I cleaned off the Olson's driveway across the street while I was at it. An hour later, the snow had tapered off to flurries and we three Rylanders were mobile. Beth sat in front of me and drove while Val leaned against my back and navigated. When we finally got home, Beth got on a computer and video-chatted with every one of her new official relatives.

That evening, I stood out in my dark, snow-blanketed backyard while Odin sniffed around and stuck his face in the drifts. I breathed in the cold air, listening to the breeze weave through snowy cedars. Winter never offered words, but it spoke to me nonetheless. I began to understand.

The light from the dining room turned on, and its soft glow stretched out onto the snow. I turned and saw Val at the sliding glass door; she blew me a kiss and then turned away. A second later, she turned the light off. A crackling fireplace, hot chocolate, snuggling and smiles waited for me inside. I'd never been more content in my life, surrounded by the solace of my own little world.

*****

I began to be more lenient with Beth and the snowmobile. As long as she helped me keep it tuned up and fueled, she was allowed to start it up and drive it out in front of the house until I got out there. She mostly abided by the rules, except for once when I caught her zipping around in the front yard. She knew what she did was wrong. It was the first time I truly yelled at her, mostly because I was scared that she could've hurt herself. Beth went sniffling to her room when I said to go.

"Is there a proper punishment for kids her age?" I asked Val as we sat at the dining room table. "It didn't matter what age me or my brothers were when we did something stupid; the punishment was always hard labor for a week or so. I'm sure as hell not gonna do that to Beth."

"I'm glad we agree on that. I've taken away some of her favorite toys for a while when she acted up. Thankfully, that's not often."

"Yeah, she's a good kid, mostly because you're a good mom. I think she just got excited being on the sled by herself and ran with it. I was just worried she could've plowed into one of the pines out there."

"Dan, don't be soft about this. Beth broke a rule."

"No, I meant that she really could've messed up my sled... and a tree."

I'd gotten used to Val's dead stares a long time ago. "You have to be the one to do this."

"I know, I know I do," I sighed. "I had a different sort of punishment in mind. I think it's strict enough, and some good might come out of it."

"Alright... I'll back you up, and we'll see how it works out." She paused. "But it better not be mean; nothing like what you and your brothers used to do to each other."

"Honey, we weren't mean to each other. It's more like we were just testing each other's... sanity."

I knocked on Beth's open door and walked in. She sat on her bed, obviously upset. "Hey, sugar," I said calmly, "we need to talk a little bit." She nodded without looking at me. I sat at the other end of her bed. "You know I told you that around here you only get to drive the snowmobile alone on the driveway or right out front. Why were you riding it in the front yard?"

Beth hesitated before answering, "The snow is too soft to make snowmen or igloos, so I was packing it down." She glanced at me and then lowered her head again. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad, but you still did something you weren't supposed to. I think taking away snowmobile privileges until your birthday is fair; that's only a couple weeks. There's more, but I'll give you a choice. You can either do chores after school until dinner, every day for a week. Or you can have something I call 'home class' every school day until Christmas break."

Her sulking expression turned into a curious one. "What's home class?"

"It's a class with me as your teacher, here at home. We'll have 'em before dinner. They'll have some geography, language study, and a little history... but not the boring stuff. Either way, you still have to do your regular homework after dinner."

Beth tried to hide her smile. "I guess I'll pick the class."

"Oh, that's too bad. I was gonna give you a special treat for all the extra chores you'd do."

"No, wait, I'll do the chores!"

"Oh, that's too bad. I was gonna give you extra allowance for every quiz you passed."

"Dan, stop it," Val said from the doorway with a chuckle.

Beth eventually chose classes with me. Val actually sat in on a few when she had the time. I tried to make them fun, or at least interesting. I mostly told Beth strange little facts about different European countries, and let her pick another language besides Finnish to start learning. She chose German so she could talk to just me and her new Grandma Emma, and she liked dotting letters with umlauts.

*****

For her birthday, Beth wanted to have a party with all of her friends. Crap, my fears were realized. So, we had over a dozen talking, giggling, squealing kids that night who moved around the house like a herd of noisy deer. They were given free rein on soft drinks and healthy snacks, which wasn't one of my best ideas; the toilets flushed every fifteen minutes. Val wouldn't let me escape, so I had to mingle with idiot parents who insisted on staying. When I decided the party had gone on long enough, I let Odin out of our bedroom. His size and sociopathic glare cleared the lingerers out pretty quick.

The drive back from the ranch at Christmas was an adventure. Okay, well, I called it an adventure; Val called it nerve-wracking. I had to slow down because of a blizzard. Val kept whispering to me that she couldn't see the road anymore. She sounded like a sissy, but she had a point - I was about to let Odin out of the car to guide us. The motel we stopped at had an in-room heater that chugged like _'the little train that could'..._ but couldn't. The stains on the blankets were disturbing mysteries; I bet the last time they were cleaned was a couple crime scenes ago. We slept in our coats.

Norbaltra was doing quite well after the New Year, so I began planning for another vacation. Val kept on with her accelerated classes and would have as associate degree by early June. Beth was excelling with both school and languages; she could have brief conversations in Finnish, and knew a handful of German phrases by heart. That angry-sounding language being spoken by a sweet little girl kept reminding me of those old exorcist movies.

*****

On a Wednesday morning in April, I got a call on my personal cellphone. It was from Pete, which immediately put me on my guard. Rylander men didn't make calls until the day's work was done, if at all. Hesitantly, I answered. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, Danny," Pete said with a very somber tone. "We've had a rough morning here."

"Did Jake drive the manure spreader too close to the house?" I was hoping some levity would lighten the suddenly-heavy mood. It didn't work.

"I wish that's all it was," he replied with a sigh. "You need to come home, Danny. Grandpa's gone."

I'm not sure how long it took me to say something. Pete waited. "No... I talked to him four days ago on his birthday. He was fine."

"Yeah, I know... Grandpa was fine, and he was eighty. At that age, it doesn't have to take long. He was okay last night. Maybe a little more tired than normal, but nothing out of the ordinary. Grandpa died in his sleep, Danny. His heart just gave out. No pain. We can't ask for much more than that." Pete's voice cracked at the end. He was as close to Grandpa Eli as I was, maybe more in some ways.

"But, I wasn't - I wasn't done talking with him..."

"I know. I'm sorry. We need to lean on each other for this, just like we did with Grandma and Joe. You've always been one of the strong ones, little brother. I could use your help. Get here when you can, okay?"

I only realized how long I sat there after the phone call when Val came upstairs and asked if I wanted lunch. When I told her about Grandpa, she cried a little. After that, though, she was calm and logical - I think for my sake. She called Beth's school to have her excused for the rest of the week, and then began packing for all of us. Odin and I went for a run and didn't get back until dusk. No, I wasn't lost. Well, I was, but not in my normal way.

Val volunteered to drive, but I needed to do it to have something to focus on besides my pain. Val sat in back with her laptop to finish an online class. Beth didn't ask many questions; she was mature enough to understand about death, although the concept bothered her. We had that in common. Odin rode up front with me. I think he sensed my mood; he kept his head on my lap for most of the trip.

My dad spent most of his time in a lawn chair out by the barn, keeping up a slow but steady intake of alcohol. No one had the balls to say anything to him about it. Drinking was his mechanism for dealing with the loss of his father, and we wouldn't step in until that mechanism broke down. Mom sometimes sat out there with him. If they spoke, she never mentioned it.

Val, Andrea, Lori and Megan were teary-eyed while they made arrangements for the funeral. Jake was never able to hide his feelings well; he told funny stories about Grandpa while he sniffled and wiped his eyes. Pete was a rock, but his defenses were down enough to give me a rare Rylander hug.

The Rylanders from Sweden arrived the day before the funeral, all of them: Uncle Lars and Aunt Maren, Viktor and his wife Julia, Axel, Molly and Alice. They offered the hugs that my side of the clan couldn't. Dad and Uncle Lars grabbed a bottle of Absolut and walked through the pastures for a few hours. In the meantime, the rest of us welcomed friends of the family who dropped by with food and condolences.

There was a huge turnout for the visitation. Grandpa Eli was well-known and respected by half the town, it seemed. The funeral was quick and simple. He was laid to rest next to Grandma Hannah. I didn't cry, and not so much to be strong for my family. The real reason isn't too easy to explain...

I've said that winter has always spoken to me in its own subtle way. Maybe it's easier to say that winter offered me clarity of mind to understand some things that I never usually dwelt on. Like death, for example. I was told - or given the clarity to tell myself - about death on a deeper level. I'm not talkin' about any of that new age bullshit. A rancher's son from North Dakota doesn't get into healing crystals or charting horoscopes unless he wants a daily ass-kicking and eventual disownment.

I'm simply talking about a better understanding of things; on this occasion, death. Sure, a loss is to be mourned, but I realized it wasn't to be feared or hated. Those times of my winter lucidity made me accept and respect death, and told me that fate always gave every event a reason. I think Grandpa knew that, too. I had more appreciation of the time and wisdom he gave me than sadness for what was taken when he died. No tears. Elias Rylander wouldn't want them anyway.

I don't think I brooded too much about my grandpa's death. With Grandma Hannah, there was lingering pain and a slowly forced acceptance. It left a sad, bitter taste in everyone's mouth. With Joe, there was an impotent anger at his drunken stupidity. I wasn't the only one who stayed mad at him for a long time. As for Grandpa, though, his passing was quick and... I don't know, maybe gracious in a way. His boys had become good men. He'd provided well for his family. And, in the end, when his days of work were over, he missed his wife. Grandpa left with no regrets. I couldn't be too sad about that.

*****

After paying off Grandma Hannah's medical bills, Grandpa's large share of fracking profits piled up. He made a few small upgrades around the ranch, but otherwise had nothing to spend his money on. In the will, Dad was given the ranch. He and Uncle Lars split the financial inheritance and the few mementos Grandpa left behind. My siblings and I were each given an eighth of Dad's cut, which still turned out to be a modest year's salary. Yeah, money is nice, but it's shitty compensation.

I thought Grandpa would've liked me using his money for something fun. So, on the way home, I had Val drive for a bit while I sat in the backseat with my laptop and modified my formerly modest vacation plans. Once I worked out the idea I liked, I told my girls about it - a European trip.

Sadly, it would've been a nightmare to bring Odin, but I promised Beth that we'd be doing and seeing so much that she'd hardly miss him. She still wasn't too pleased until I told her a few fun facts. We were gonna take six different planes, plus a train ride and a sea cruise. We were going to stay in fancy hotels and do a bunch of fun stuff. Beth changed her tune, but Val was the truly excited one.

We were only gonna be gone a week. I wanted one of the stops to be in Germany, where Beth could hear everyone talking her new secret language. Another destination I planned for was Finland; I figured Val, being full-blooded, would want to go. Plus, she and Beth both had a basic knowledge of the Finn language. I figured they might want to use their knowledge beyond talking with granny Aila.

When we got home, Val talked Sara into housesitting for us. Besides bribing her with free food and a fridge full of beer, I offered for Sara to join us when we went water-tubing and riding zip lines again later in the summer. They were too fun not to do again, and they weren't too tame for that adrenalin junkie.

Beth finished third grade with mostly A's on her report card. A week later, Val earned her associate degree in public administration. She said a party wasn't necessary, but I had one for her anyway - just a small one with family and friends for a mellow evening out on the deck with brats (food, not children) and pops (not soda, not cola - it's called 'pop' in Michigan). Rose kept her mouth shut and Jess didn't bring a date, so it was a good time.

*****

On a warm early afternoon in late June, Val, Beth and I got on a small commercial plane at Sawyer airport south of Marquette, bound for Chicago. We let Beth have the window seat. She loved the rumble and pressure of taking off. A little over two hours later, we were boarding for a nonstop overnight flight to Copenhagen, Denmark. Our seats were comfortable; my girls and I slept fairly well. We woke up in a European morning. Beth was glued to the window, telling us every detail she saw.

The vacation was only a week long, but there was a lot of moving around and we didn't waste a minute. I'll try to make it short. Here's the travel itinerary (in vague terms). Day two: we landed in Copenhagen in the morning and spent the night there. Day three: flight to Hamburg, Germany in the morning. Day four: we took an evening flight to Helsinki, Finland. Day five: we boarded a cruise ship in Helsinki in the late afternoon. Day six: disembarked in Gothenburg, Sweden. Day seven: we took a late morning train down to Copenhagen and got on our return flight back to Chicago. We technically landed two hours later and boarded our second return flight up to Marquette. We didn't unpack until the next day.

In Europe we shopped, went sightseeing, did a lot of fun shit, and took enough pictures and video to bore even ourselves. All of our hotel stays were in two-bedroom suites, and we relaxed with room service meals a couple times. We brought an extra suitcase for all the crap we bought. A big chunk of Grandpa Eli's money was spent hedonistically. I'm sure he would've liked that I did that.

In Copenhagen, we had lunch with my cousin Vik and his wife in Tivoli Gardens. In Gothenburg a number of days later, Uncle Lars was a great host to us. Between those times, Val, Beth and I went to a zoo, a planetarium, a symphony, a botanical garden, two shopping centers and two amusement parks. I got plenty of chances to speak Danish, German, Finnish and Swedish. The water of the Baltic Sea was calm enough during our cruise that none of us threw up.

Beth barely complained the whole time, and only when we had to leave a place we were really enjoying. During our trip, the things she experienced made her change her mind of what she wanted to be when she grew up. After our first flight, Beth was going to be a pilot. As our vacation went on, she was then going to be an astronaut, then a train conductor, then a dancer, then a veterinarian, then a florist. I lost track after that.

We also went on a few mini vacations after we got back, just like we did the year before. Objectively, they didn't compare to the European vacation. This time, though, those "minis" were enjoyed with family or friends. We did the zip lines and trail-riding with Sara. We went camping and fishing with Ben and Faye. We went white-water rafting and boating with Rob and Lauren. Those weekend excursions were just as good as jetting around Europe, but in a different way. No, really, they were.

*****

After Independence Day, Val applied for a position at the social security office. A couple of interviews later, she was hired. I'd rarely seen her so happy. Other than being a good mother, she had something to be personally proud of. She worked hard for it; she pushed herself with those classes for over a year. All throughout it, she still made a lot of time for Beth and me. The only way I could have done all that would've been with a rampant addiction to coffee and prescription drugs.

During the month or so between when Val started her new job and school started again, Beth and I had a lot of time to hang out. She did her own thing when I had to work on projects, but otherwise she and I swapped stuff we wanted to do... not that I had many options. Beth had a list, like baking, hanging out with her friends, painting her room, and fishing. The only things on my list were home-classes and taking Odin out to play. She got the better end of the deal.

Val said all that doing-stuff-together was good for bonding and whatever. Maybe it was, but I believed too much of it was also gateway thinking for leniency and turning kids soft. Those overindulgent parents who think every kid should get a trophy make me sick. Kids need to learn about failure or they're gonna get a rude surprise when they step into the real world. I'll be there for Beth, but I'm sure as hell not going to coddle her. She might never move out if I did.

*****

On a hot weekend in September, Val wanted to rent a boat the next day and go back out on Superior again. After a few minutes of conversation, the idea had been upgraded to renting a pontoon, inviting a bunch of people, and maybe stopping at Grand Island for a while. I thought that was fine until Val invited her sister. I didn't say she was going to regret inviting Jess; my scowling glare was enough.

Val, Beth, Odin and I went over to Munising the next morning and rented a sixteen-seat pontoon; yeah, they allowed pets. Ben and Faye showed up soon after, followed by Rob and Lauren. Sara brought yet another new guy named Andy; he seemed nice enough. Everyone brought food to share - buckets of chicken, potato salad, sandwiches, snacks, fruit and three coolers of drinks.

Jess showed up late as usual, and didn't show up alone like she said she would. She had the brass balls to bring her uninvited loser boyfriend. She also brought one small container of leftover macaroni salad. My mood dimmed a little. I didn't give the loser (a.k.a. Josh) any respect, although I did point out where the lifejackets were in case he 'accidentally' fell overboard.

Soon after we were out on the lake, my phone rang. With Ben attending Beth, I let her take over driving. I moved to the front of the boat and checked the number. It was Jake. We talked for a bit, just catching up. I finished the call and sat in the back of the boat, chuckling as I sat down.

Rob, next to me, said, "I imagine that was one of your brothers."

"Yeah, that was Jake. He's been on more diaper duty lately for Max. He told me that his kid's shits are so massive that he wants to put him in the barn and ask my dad to hire another ranch hand."

The only person in the back of the boat with us who didn't at least smile was Josh. Eating one of my ham sandwiches, he asked, "He needs your dad's permission?"

"Our dad is the boss. You're always supposed to ask the boss for permission to do anything." I stared at him, then the sandwich, and then back to him. My meaning was obvious.

Josh weaseled out of actually asking for our food by trying to be nice and sociable. "Jess said you used to work on a ranch. That's a tough way to make a buck, I bet."

I scowled at him and said, "Dude, where do you think trying to butter my bread is gonna get you?" His mouth opened, but nothing came out. I couldn't tell if his expression was one of confusion or fear. I didn't care which, as long as he stopped talking.

Ben broke the awkward silence and started telling a funny hunting story. When he finished, Beth turned to me from the driver's seat and said, "Now you tell a funny story, Dad."

"I can't think of one right now, sugar. But here's something you'll like: Smelliest town in Denmark!"

Beth started laughing, but everyone else had curious grins. "I don't get it," Rob said.

"Middlefart - it's a town," Beth explained. "We didn't go there, but we flew over it. Dad said he knew because the paint started peeling off the airplane wings."

That led to a conversation about Europe, and the things we did there. Neither Ben nor Faye had much interest in going anywhere over there, but both Rob and Lauren wanted to see Austria sometime. Josh didn't contribute an opinion; he just nodded while he started in on a plate of chicken and pickles.

Val mentioned how fascinated she was listening to me and my cousin Vik switch back and forth from English to Swedish, and how most Swedes knew at least some English. Beth then impressed us with her knowledge of Finnish, some statements in German, and then, surprisingly, "I love you, Dad" in Swedish.

Josh ruined the moment. "Hey, man," he said around a mouthful of food, "it's pretty cool, all those languages you know. How'd you learn 'em?"

He didn't care. He was just acting like everyone's buddy. The only ones who couldn't see through his shitty acting was Jess. "Well, it's a neat little story," I said, no longer worried about my lack of filter. "A while back I heard someone say, 'quit throwing chicken bones in the water, you jackass'. The end."

"You know," Val quickly cut in, "at first, Dan wanted our wedding to be said in different languages just to catch everyone off-guard."

"I couldn't do it," Ben added. "I might've been able to slide by with broken Finnish, but dat was it. Dan gave me a beginner CD in Swedish, but dere was no way. Dat is one funky language."

"Wait a minute." Jess said. "If it was in Swedish, how would we know when you guys were married?"

"We'd throw meatballs in the air, and ABBA music would start playing," I answered.

Jess frowned. "All that wasted food... I don't think birds eat meat."

The boat went quiet. "Your skull is actually a pinball game, isn't it?" I asked.

"Hey, man," Josh said, "that wasn't cool."

I turned to him with a pointed finger. "Mooching our food isn't cool, either. You're a bad example for my daughter, and I don't want you around. We're gonna go back and drop you off at the docks. From here on, I don't wanna hear another butt-kissing word outta you. And if you take one more damn bite of our food, I'll tell my dog to go fetch it." I would've said other things if Beth wasn't there.

Josh almost spoke, but Sara cut him off. "You're low on friends here, pal, so think before you do something stupid. You just got the _nicest_ offer you're gonna get. You better shut up and take it."

Lauren sat with Beth at the wheel and began to turn us around. Rob and Ben gave that loser some room to sit and look offended. Faye was obviously uncomfortable, but there wasn't much to be done for it. Odin knew who I was mad at; he sat in front of Josh and stared at him. I love that dog.

Val led me to the front of the boat. "Okay, sweetie, take a deep breath," she whispered to me.

"I'm not apologizing," I murmured back.

"Damn right, you're not; I only had you step over here with me because I was afraid you might kill him. I'm not going to get into it with Jess right now, but I'll call her later. I don't want Beth there when I do."

That made me smile. "I'm so glad I hired you."

"I didn't really care about the job, sweetie. I only wanted a date."

After Josh and Jess got off the boat without a word, the tension disappeared. The rest of us cruised back out and had a good time. We docked at Grand Island to stretch our legs and wade in the warm shallows. While most everyone else was peeing in the woods, I talked to Andy about trespassing rights if Jess was dumb enough to ever bring her boyfriend back over to my house.

*****

Halloween came quick, and so did Beth's growth spurt. She was no longer the shortest girl in her class. She wanted to go to a classmate's Halloween party instead of trick-or-treating. While we shopped, she told me and Val that there was a boy she liked. I wasn't happy with that thought, not until Beth said the boy was funny and nice, but they were too young for kissing. That saved me from having a blunt discussion with the little bastard's parents. Okay, maybe I'm a little too protective.

Snow came in November like it had a score to settle. On weekends or snow days, Beth bugged me to get out on the snowmobile. Being indulgent, I let her start it up and drive it on our short dead-end street until I finished up whatever I was doing. Val didn't venture out with us very often; she preferred to view winter rather than experience it. I reminded her where we lived. She reminded me that I was weird.

On Christmas Eve morning, I was outside with the roof rake. The latest storm dropped another nine inches and tapered off the morning before. The sun came out afterwards, turning the top layer to ice and made the roads slick. Then another two inches fell overnight. I needed to get the weight off the roof before I could go have any fun.

I talked with my dad the week earlier about driving out to the ranch before Christmas. We'd gone there last year, so it was Val's turn to be with the Maki's this time. Dad told me that we could visit some other time - the northern plains was getting a shit-ton of snow, so it wasn't safe. I felt relieved not to deal with another chancy drive, especially with the girls and Odin. I agreed to at least have Val and Beth video-chat with Mom and the others. They'd talk, I'd escape. Win - win.

Anyway, I was on the bedroom side of the house knocking layers off the roof when Beth came out. What a surprise, she asked if we could go snowmobiling. I told her to go warm it up and I'd be there soon. A minute later, she was driving around in front of the house. I'd used the snow blower on our dead-end road so we and the Olson's could get in and out with no problem. I was slightly concerned about Beth driving around on the hard pack, but she was going easy on the throttle. I hurried up anyway.

Then I heard the sled's engine being gunned. I spun and saw Beth charging out across the residential crossroad that my yard came to the corner of. She was testing her limits again and just lost privileges because of it. I threw the rake down and began stomping through the snow toward the street.

That's when I saw two things at once. Beth had turned the sled around and was coming back toward the crossroad. A group of evergreens on the far corner blocked her view of the big delivery truck coming down the road. The truck wasn't going fast, but it was on a slight decline and it wouldn't be able to break in time driving on soft snow and ice. Beth couldn't hear my yelling because of her helmet and the engine noise. She must've thought I was waving at her. She didn't slow down.

*****

I remember running. Terror pumped my legs. I think the driver laid on his horn, but I really didn't hear anything but the voice in my head yelling "NO" over and over.

I came at Beth almost head-on and dove with my hands out. I knocked her off the sled, and a split second later I was spinning through the air. I slid to a stop next to a snow bank made by a street plow. I could feel my legs, which was good, but my left one felt... wrong, which wasn't so good.

From my sideways angle, my wobbly vision could see the delivery truck sliding to a stop near me. My snowmobile was jammed under its front bumper. My poor sled. I turned my head toward Beth; my eyes really started to swim. I thought I saw her lying on a pile of snow, but I was sure I heard the muffled sound of her crying in her helmet. I didn't think the truck hit her, but I couldn't tell. It might've clipped her, and I panicked a little. I wanted to get up, but my lower body told me that was a bad idea.

Before I could call out to Beth, the driver was next to me, babbling. "Oh God, oh God, don't move, buddy. Can you hear me? Just don't move."

"Go check on her, Goddammit!"

The driver moved off just as I heard Val screaming our names. That's about when the world stopped making sense. I lay there, mostly on my stomach, staring at the snow a few inches from my face. It started to tell me something, and that's when I faded out.

*****

I woke up groggy, unsure of where I was or how I got there. The bed I was in was slightly inclined, and I could see figures in a dim room. I wasn't at home, I knew that much. Otherwise, I was in a good mood. Then something began to nag at my brain; instead of having languages swirling around in the back of my head, they were replaced with Beth. I became more worried about her as I remembered glimpses of the accident. Morphine didn't allow me to freak out.

Val was in the room, talking to two familiar women that I couldn't quite recognize. I swallowed to wet my throat and asked, "Where's our girl, honey?" Surprisingly, I said it in English.

She hurried over to the bed, looking tired but smiling. "Hi, sweetie," she whispered to me.

Faye stood at the end of my bed, smiling softly like she usually did. The other woman - I think it was Gail Olson - mumbled something about getting a nurse and left the room.

I vaguely noticed an IV stuck in my arm, and my left leg looked lumpy under the bed sheet. I couldn't focus enough for more than one sense at a time, so I closed my eyes and asked, "Beth?"

"She'll be okay," Val replied.

My chest tightened. I groaned from pain that wasn't physical. "I didn't get there in time?"

"It's alright, you got there. Beth has some bruised ribs from you knocking her out of the way."

A deep sigh of relief left my lungs. "She's not allowed to ride the sled for a while."

Val brushed my hair with her fingers. "Dan, no one's riding that thing for a while."

More pieces came together. "Oh yeah, it looked sorta crunched under the UPS truck."

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked.

"Uh, not everything... The puzzle pieces are mixed up. Did I do something stupid again?"

"Not stupid at all," Faye answered. "You saved Beth's life, Dan. The driver -"

"It wasn't his fault," I interrupted.

"We know; we made sure he knew that. He feels guilty anyway. He told us how the snowmobile came out in front of him, and the road was slick. He couldn't turn. He couldn't stop. Then he said you came out of nowhere, that he'd never seen anyone move so fast."

"I wasn't even wearing my track shoes."

"No jokes," Val said as she stroked my beard. "You scared the laughter out of me."

I shifted my weight and asked, "Okay, so what's the damage?"

"You broke and fractured some bones, mostly. Diving in front of a truck will do that."

"I can feel casts on me, so why am I still here? Gimme some crutches and let's go home. I got Beth that jewelry box she wanted, and a necklace inside. I wanna be there in the morning to watch her open it."

There was a couple seconds of silence. I was about to open my eyes when Val said, "Sweetie, the accident was yesterday morning."

"Aw, man..."

"We didn't open gifts yet. We're waiting for you. And you can't go home anyway. You had to have surgery yesterday. You had, um..." She hesitated.

"Ruptures," Faye filled in.

"Right, ruptures in your intestine - I think large intestine - and your kidney. They had to fix those as soon as possible. You also had some hip fractures, so they put in some pins and plates and screws."

"Okay," I sighed, then fidgeted from the growing pain on my left side.

Faye put my hand on the button to hit for more morphine, and then said she'd go get Beth. Val gave me a hug and began to cry on my shoulder. At least I wasn't wearing one of my good t-shirts.

I opened my eyes and saw a nurse walk in. She was followed by Beth, Faye, Ben, Mom, Dad, Pete, and Rob. Dad didn't say much; he looked worn out, or maybe stretched emotionally thin from the thought of losing someone else. Mom called me a hero in German and kissed my forehead.

Pete shook his head at me and said, "All those times I told you to go play in traffic... I didn't think you'd really do it." He leaned surprisingly close and whispered, "I'm so damn proud of you, little brother."

Val gently set Beth next to me on the bed. My little girl gingerly leaned over and laid her head on my chest. "Does it hurt like when you hit your head?" she asked.

I rubbed her back with my non-IV arm. "Nah, I just can't go right back home this time. I'm sorry I hurt you, sugar."

"I'm okay, Dad. Mom says I'm tough like you are."

We all talked some more until I started drifting off. I don't remember anyone leaving. I woke up the next morning, more clear-headed (and in more pain) than the evening before. I didn't want more morphine if I could help it. When I woke, a different nurse was changing the multiple bags I was strung to. Val and Beth were there with some things from home, including this laptop I'm writing on.

*****

Other visitors came and went throughout the day. I appreciated them taking the time to come see me, especially my parents and brother. Val and Beth came back after they had lunch and celebrated Christmas with me right there in my hospital room. At first, Beth didn't want to; she was still upset that I got hurt again because of her, and said she didn't deserve anything. Technically, she was right, but after a hit of the morphine button I didn't care.

Sometime later, my surgeon came in and told me about my situation: organ ruptures, three pelvic breaks, fractures in my right foot (not sure how that happened), fracture in my left femur, plus some ligament damage in my knee that was going to need surgery. He checked my sutures, asked a few questions, and said me being in good shape helped. Except for a mild gut ache, some throbbing down my left leg and the damn catheter, there wasn't much to bitch about. Okay, yes there was.

The next evening, I told my dad - in my own polite way - to go home. He offered for them to stay longer if I wanted, but there was no need. More handshakes and another kiss from Mom, and they left for the ranch. Val and Beth kissed me goodnight and left after my family did. Then I video-chatted with Andrea and Scott; we chatted for a few minutes, I assured them I was okay, and then told them to stay home.

About ten minutes later, a guy came into my room. I didn't recognize him. He was average in height, lanky, unshaven, and a little hunched over. He held his winter cap to his chest and stood near the door, like he was afraid I was contagious. "Yes?" I asked.

"Hope I'm not botherin' ya, Mr. Rylander. My name's Larry - Larry Virtanen. I'm, uh... I was drivin' -"

"Yeah, okay, my wife told me your name." He opened his mouth to respond... and nothing came out. Instead, he lowered his head. His body language told me a lot. "Look, man, you didn't screw up," I told him. "There was nothin' you could've done. I'll write your boss an email if you need me to."

"No sir, no need for that." He kept his head down. "I just came to say I hope your daughter's alright, and that I'm real sorry." He turned to leave.

"Hey, Larry," I said to stop him. He turned his head to me. "It must've scared the shit out of you. It did me too. This wouldn't have happened if I was stricter with my daughter. The only way I could be mad at you is if you would've kept on going."

Something like a grin crossed his face. "That'd been tough to do with my truck tryin' to eat your sled."

I didn't have a good reply. "Thanks for stopping in."

He stood a little straighter on his way out.

*****

For a guy like me, being stuck in a hospital bed truly sucks. I was managing the pain and stayed away from the 'magic button' as much as I could. I had the nurses set me up better so I could use both hands to type and stuff. Val had already contacted the Sweden Rylanders and my other major clients, so I don't have much to do besides watch TV and focus on writing this.

Other than jotting down all the vivid memories, I've had time to think. I now see why I was given my random gifts. Without being good with machines, I wouldn't have had a sense of worth when I sucked so badly at ranching. Without having a knack for languages, I never would've moved on and eventually met Val. Without speed, I never could've saved my daughter. Fate had its reasons.

Yesterday morning, New Year's Eve, I went back under the knife for my knee. The doc said everything went fine, although I won't be the runner I used to be. Well no shit. When he asked how I felt, I gave him two thumbs up. I figured my gut ache and hip throbs were expected, so I didn't mention them. If I did, he might make me stay longer. All I wanted was to go home.

I woke up late - 1:44 a.m., the clock says. I can still taste Val's strawberry Chap Stick on my lips. It's snowing again outside. Watching it helps numb the pain. Without all those languages in my head, I can tell what winter is saying now. Deep down, it's nothing I didn't already know.

* * * * * * * * *

I'm passing this along to everyone in my family, and to anyone else who wants to read it.

My husband, Daniel Rylander, passed away in the early morning hours of January 2, 2017.

It's taken me a month to be able to bring myself to read this and add to it - and on my birthday, no less. This is not the gift I want, but it comes closer than anything else.

There were small holes in the lining of Dan's liver and intestine that went undetected. I was told that the build-up of fluids most likely caused some pain, but he never told the nursing staff. That sounds like my Dan, stubborn to the end. A critical stage hit and the complications struck quickly. They couldn't bring him back.

The time of death was listed at 4: 05 a.m., but one of the nurses I became friends with told me that he was gone long before that. She also said that Dan probably passed away in his sleep. A small comfort, but I'm clinging to it.

The story of how Dan saved Beth's life was big local news. Someone posted it to different sites on the internet, and it went national. There were so many people that Dan talked to and worked for all over the world... The story of his heroism reached them, too. The Norbaltra website has had hundreds of messages, many of them from complete strangers. A prime time news show contacted me yesterday about a full interview. It's too soon. I sent them what he'd written instead.

Beth is crushed, even now. Odin still wanders around the house sometimes, looking for his master and friend. At the funeral, Dan's father Erik looked drained and lost. It hurt to look at him. My mother-in-law Emma was devastated. Dan's brother Jake was a wreck, switching from trying to lighten the mood to being on the verge of a rampage. There was nothing I could do for them, or for myself.

I look around our house and see Dan in every square foot. He had an outer sense of calm that put me at ease. Whenever we had company over, I always noticed his quirky charm that struck a chord with people. I was addicted to it early on. My home is filled with so many memories that make me smile, but now they hurt, too.

In a short time, Dan gave me so many things. He gave me and Beth a life I didn't know I could dream of. He loved me when I was afraid to let him. He gave me space, he gave me affection, and he knew when I needed one or the other. He loved Beth so much more than I could've hoped for, and she was happy beyond words to have him as her daddy. He gave me my dream wedding, and he was the perfect groom. He gave me trust and let me in to his strange little world. I was always amazed with how his mind worked. I didn't know I could love someone so much, and now I can't tell him.

I'll always wonder about Dan's fascination with snow. I never knew where his mind went when he stared at it. Still, I'll step out into the snow alone sometimes and imagine he's there with me, and it gives me a temporary sense of peace. Maybe that's what he felt. Nothing will replace the love of my life or the hole in my heart, but I have memories and I have winters.

Valerie Rylander
