Page 26 of The Happiness Blueprint
Love dogs, only ever had a problem with one particular pet but that was a pet badger recovering from surgery (long story) and it was living in (and eating) my living room. Application of deodorant performed twice daily (do you need the brand ahead of decision making?)
I smile. I imagine her as a feisty girl with a short haircut who wears the pants in her relationship. She doesn’t like heels but looks amazing when she does wear them. She drinks her coffee strong but with sugar, out-lifts the guys in the weight corner of the gym and never backs away from the challenge of carrying a box of tiles up a flight of stairs. She is an amazing driver and will laugh at my pathetic attempts to parallel park. She has at least one tattoo and reads thrillers and fantasy in her spare time.Okay, enough already, Klara.
I send her the address for our interview. I’m finding Swedish professional language a challenge. There is noMr.orMrs.orDearused, just ahiorhelloand a first name. There is no system. I just instinctively have to know what is suitable.
It’s a date! Kind regards, Klara Nilsson.
ALEX
Personal Calendar
• NEW TASK:Get to interview
• NEW TASK:Act professional and cool (like the job is already yours)
• NEW TASK:Don’t show signs of weakness or depression
Interview lady seems a bit weird. Possibly not Swedish.It’s a dateis not something you say even to your actual date, unless you’re stuck in the ’80s by means of time travel or denial. Choose to ignore weirdness as also seems funny and easygoing enough, and I have my calendar not to disappoint. Doing well in that sense, have ticked offwater plants(singular cactus but the calendar doesn’t have to know that) on a consistent basis now. I am making my calendar happy, and that is what matters as this will, eventually, makemehappy, according to Dr. Hadid.
The service station smells of mustardy hot dogs and freshly brewed coffee. I’ve been coming here for years.
“Any chance you can throw in a coffee with that fuel?” I ask, doing my best smile at the counter, well aware it doesn’t have the same effect as when I was a kid. At least not on straight men like Patrik.
“Coffee is 25 kronor. You know that, Alex. It’s very reasonable,” he says, passing me the receipt for the quarter tank of petrol, which should get me to the interview and back.
“I should have my loyalty card somewhere in here.” Dig deep and find some gravel, chewing gum and a coin.Why have my pocket contents not evolved since I was five?
“Fine. Only this once.” He hands me an empty paper cup, and I gratefully walk over to the self-service area, filling my cup with a filter brew and topping it off with some milk.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be broke forever! I have a job interview this afternoon.”
“Ever considered selling that car of yours? You wouldn’t have to beg me for coffee if you released that fifty grand. Still can’t believe Dan just gave it to you.”
“You know it has sentimental value. I’m not ready to let it go just yet.”
“So you keep saying. Good luck today. You deserve it. How long is it since you lost him...?” I hate that.Lost him.As if we didn’t take enough care and he just got away, like a pet with a garden gate left open. We didn’t lose anyone: he was taken from us. I’m sure of it.
“Always missed,” Patrik says. It’s true. Everyone liked Calle. Usually more than me, if they knew us both.
On my way out I notice that the poster appealing for a witness that I put up and which sat there for months—six to be precise, until the color faded—is now gone.
KLARA
Attractive Swede with tool kit...
Google Search I’m Feeling Lucky
“Yes?”
The knock on the door has me sitting up straight. Three times in a row, as if spelling out a word or a secret code rather than asking to come in. Tap-tap-tap. I had expected Alex to deliver a gentle, questioning sort of a knock before appearing in the doorway and becoming my new construction BFF.
The door swings open before I have a chance to saycome in. This isnota good sign. As a head followed by a torso pops into view, my foot starts tapping and I reallyreallywish I had some heavy soothing rap blasting in my ear. Because this is asurprise.Whoever I was expecting, I was not expectingthis.Firstly, it’s a him. I study him in detail just to be sure. Yup. Gender is definitelymale, assumed preferred pronounhim, titleMr.
My chest feels tight.
“I’m Alex,” he says with a southern accent that rolls on each letter, lingering in the doorway, noticing my hesitation.Alex.Of course, he’s amaleAlex.You knobhead, Klara.I regain my composure and—I’m proud to say—manage some coherent speech.
“Oh, sorry, do come in. Please excuse my surprise, it’s just that I specifically asked for female applicants.” If my statement embarrasses him, he hides it well, giving me a slight smile as he enters the room, obviously determined to go through with the interview. He has stopped in front of my desk, and I’m ridiculously aware of just how tall and broad he is. He practically blocks the sunlight from entering the room, and I’m about to ask him to scoot to the side because rays of sun are precious in this country, when he addresses me.
