A Stockholm Love Story Pt. 01

"I had Paul the Polar Bear," she rose and backed towards a cubicle, "my mum's ex boyfriend got him for me, mum always says it was the only thing about Robert she misses."

I was somewhat at a loss when she emerged from the cubicle a few minutes later. I had a few things to pick up from the store but I'd become a little taken by her, she's very tactile and while that might be common in Scotland it's rarer in Sweden unless you're close friends or related. Thus when she gave me the option of a visit to the Royal Palace or just letting me get on with shopping I accepted her second invitation.

It was whilst we were wandering about the palace however that something changed when my sister sent me a text to tell me she'd bought a new dress for the wedding of a mutual friend. Moira was just beside me when the text came in and she recognised the Swedish word for wedding, bröllop.

"Your friend is getting married?"

"Ja," I murmured, "the text is from my sister and we are invited to our friends wedding, Mina is getting married to Agnetha."

"Cool, that's another thing on my bucket list, a gay wedding but I'd have to go on my own because I can't see Mark going to one of them unless there was naked jelly wrestling with women."

The words were out before I realised it.

"Well, it is the day after tomorrow, perhaps you could come with us?"

"Sure," she grinned, "that would be bra."

"Your Swedish is getting better," I pursed my lips, "excuse me while I talk to my sister."

Elin was dubious at first but she's learned to trust my judgement and we agreed that she could go as our friend instead of my date, which actually made it easier for me because it took the pressure off and that set off a train of events that led to my present situation but more of that later.

As anyone will tell you, a wedding means you either buy a new dress or something to go with a dress you already have. In my case it was both but Moira was going to have to buy a dress and here was where the fates smiled upon me because whilst she's shorter than me we have a similar build although my breasts are bigger thanks to my pregnancy. This, along with my reluctance to just get rid of clothes that don't fit me properly meant I could loan her one of my dresses. That entailed a visit to my apartment and the moment she stepped over the threshold I felt as if I'd crossed one of my invisible lines. I rarely invited women back home unless they were just friends, as I mentioned before I'm a toe dipper but technically Moira was just a friend and yet there was a part of me that was curious.

Nevertheless, despite my curiosity we both had things to do the next day, I had to take Sofia to the doctor for her regular appointment and I also had to find a dress for this wedding, but I was kept up to date with Moira's sightseeing via her Instagram feed. She'd been to the Vikingaliv museum the direct translation is Vikings Alive, it's not really a museum, more a place to take children but she'd told me that she had always harboured a crush on Lagertha. She took a selfie in front of the movie photograph of Lagertha and there was a picture of her picking up a sword and battleaxe, these items are under glass and chained to the table. I liked her comment for that photograph.

Moira: Lagertha says, the easiest way to a man's heart is between his fourth and fifth ribs!

She then went to the Nordiska Museum, which chronicles the lives of ordinary and not so ordinary Swedes over the last few hundred years and in the afternoon she explored historic Gamla Stan, the literal translation is the Old Town. However when she sent me a text from T-Jarlens asking for a recommendation for traditional Swedish food to take back to the hostel kitchen I gave in.

Sigrid: Buy some milk and bread and come back to my apartment, I'll do the meatballs.

Moira: Don't you mean köp lite mjölk och bröd?

Okay that did impress me, she'd either been studying Swedish before she arrived or she was a quick learner. As it turned out she had a natural aptitude for languages.

"I studied Spanish first off in high school and then added French, most people do French first but I was determined to impress a Spanish boy in high school," she dumped the bag on the table.

"Sadly Julio was more into boys than girls, he broke my heart when I found out."

"What did he say?"

"Em, nothing, it was love from a distance."

"I had the same experience in secondary school," I replied, "a boy called Mads, he was Danish but his mother was Swedish and his father was a Lebanese immigrant to Denmark. He had the most beautiful brown complexion and I was in love until I saw him kissing another boy in the train station."

"Ouch," she winced, "even I never saw Julio kissing a boy until the last year of high school, he got a lot of teasing because of it but by then I was with Simon and Julio was so yesterday," she glanced at me for a moment.

"So, you weren't always straight out gay?"

"Nej," I replied, "I was bisexual for years but when I got with Maggie it changed."

"Tell me about Maggie," she replied, "I'm curious. She wasn't older than you was she?"

"About fifteen years older than me."

"Her last name wasn't May was it?" Moira smirked.

It took a moment for the penny to drop and I shook my head, "no, it wasn't."

I felt almost as if I was betraying a confidence telling her about Maggie but in hindsight it was a bit like exorcising a persistent demon. Maggie had been like a stone in my shoe, there were months and months where I didn't think about her at all and then a song would pop up on my Spotify list and it all came back. The curious thing was that I could listen to the same song a few weeks later and not think that much about her. Moira had a theory about that though.

"It's something you haven't resolved yet, I mean, who left who?"

"She initiated it but I went along with it just to keep the peace but I always felt as if it hurt her to say goodbye, it's like she was forcing herself to do something against her will."

"But are you better off for breaking up?"

"Of course," I picked Sofia up, "she said that it was unfair on me, she always said that this was a temporary thing but I just kept it going too long," I led her into the kitchen.

"I think that was what hurt me, the thought that I'd dragged it on too long. It was never my idea to get into a relationship in the first place but one thing led to another and before we knew it we were living together."

"That's kind of like how it is with Mark and me," she propped against the bench while I put Sofia into her walker, "he was a one night stand who never went home. He was having trouble with our department of housing and before we knew it we were living together. He did get an offer of a place out in Stepps but it was too close to his old pals and he was trying to get away from them."

"So, you rescued him?"

"Ha, he won't ever admit to that, unless he's had a few pints then he gets all cuddly but that's about the size of it," she squatted in front of Sofia, "do you need a hand?"

"It's almost done," I glanced at the oven, "I just have to make the sauce."

"Where are the plates?"

"Over there," I pointed, "and Sofia has her Shrek plate."

"Ah, of course," she replied a few moments later as she opened the cupboard door.

"Tallrik," Sofia waved Mads in the general direction of the plates.

"What is that word?"

"Plate but we also say plattor."

"How do you say your plate?"

"Din tallrik," I started stirring the sauce again."

Her rendering of it was pretty good for someone who's new to Swedish especially when it came to other words like salt which means the same thing in Swedish and English, but we say it differently to native English speakers. She seemed to gravitate towards my daughter and Sofia has just started to interact with people outside of her family. Indeed she was quite taken by Moira's attempts to talk a little Swedish. It made for an entertaining meal, she's only just started on solid food even though I'm still breast feeding right now.

"I have to get her more used to solid food before I start back at work," I mused some time later.

"Well don't leave it as long as Mark's mum," our eyes met, "I found out from his sister that she kept breast feeding him until he was two and a half, she only stopped because he kept biting her nipples, which explains his breast obsession."

"I think that is a man thing anyway," I started clearing the plates, "they talk to you but they keep looking at your breasts. One of my ex girlfriends is a sex therapist, she said it had something to do with the hard wiring of the male brain, they are instinctively wondering if these breasts can feed a child."

"That's one thing Mark keeps banging on about," she pulled a wry grin, "he wants to do the family thing and I keep putting it off, it's like that part of me is just dead."

"I wouldn't say that," I replied, "Sofia has taken to you and you seem to be the same," I frowned, "or is it the fear of commitment?"

"That would be it," she sighed, "every time I look at him in bed I keep thinking I should be so happy I've got a man who doesn't sleep around, he's like a homing pigeon he always comes home no matter how pissed he gets and then it's the couch," she grinned.

"But then I think about spending the rest of my life with him and it's like I can't think straight," she stopped and then winced, "sorry, that came out all wrong."

"I get what you mean," I rose, "maybe you should talk to him about it?"

"Maybe," she propped on her palm and stared at Sofia, "what do you think little Miss Shrek?"

"Shrek," she pointed to her plate.

"Aye right, knowing my luck he'll turn into Shrek on our wedding night and I'll be stuck with an ogre for the rest of my life."

"Even though Princess Fiona was an ogre."

"You hear that?" Moira feigned annoyance as she addressed Sofia, "din mor thinks I am an ogress."

"Ogress," Sofia squealed.

"I give in," she threw her arms in the air, "even your daughter thinks I'm an ogress."

"Ogress, ogress," Sofia slapped her tray.

My laughter simply caused her to repeat it several more times, however it did alert me to something I'd been trying to avoid. I found this woman attractive and I couldn't work out whether it was the way I was with her or perhaps it was just the company. As much as I hate to admit it, I've become a bit of a loner since giving birth. Little did I know that the wedding I was taking her to would answer that question and raise others but more of that later.

To be continued...