Jan closed the house door slowly behind him stepping out on the frozen sidewalk. He felt the February cold chilling his face. Surprisingly, it felt pleasant. After the damp Irish weather, the crisp coolness of the Swedish winter in Kalmar felt refreshing.
He was wearing his Swedish clothes, as his mother called them, because the Irish ones were not suitable for the different type of cold. Jan was sure they were, but there was no convincing his mother.
Sometimes, when she was nagging him and wrapping his scarf around his neck he felt like laughing. She still treated him like he was a small boy. He sometimes imagined how they would look to an external witness.
This thin, straight as a candle old woman, dressing up a man in his fifties, standing on her toes to reach his woolly hat and pulling it as far down as she could.
‘Your brain is your biggest asset, it needs protecting!’, she would say smiling.
When he had arrived she saw on her face the utter disappointment of not having his daughter with him.
‘I am so sorry, she has school and Grainne would not let her skip any classes.’
His mother had muttered something under her breath about his Irish wife and left it at that.
She had never liked her. The young student falling for one of her professors, chasing him, getting him to bed and then, just like in a bad taste story, getting pregnant.
Jan was already in his late forties, his mother had given up the idea of him having children, but then Sigrid was born and the world instantly became brighter.
As much as Jan’s mother disliked Grainne, she was grateful for the birth of her grand daughter, and whenever Jan would pine for his life before being married, she would sternly tell him to mind his family rather than moan around like a spoiled brat.
The love for the child united them all, although, soon after getting married it had become evident to everyone that Grainne and Jan were not the best of matches.
He had given her status and money, she had given him a daughter, but they really did not have anything in common, and moving to Ireland had made this even more clear.
That had been more than five years before, and, as much as Jan liked his life in Ireland, he still missed his town, its colors and the way it made him feel. Like he belonged. For some reason, he had not been able to have that feeling in Ireland, that is, until he had met her.
Maya’s image appeared before his eyes and he wished she was there with him, he wanted to show her all the wonderful things in Kalmar, he wanted to share it with her.
That is when he understood that, no matter how much he fought it, how far away he went, he wanted to share everything with her.