Page 135 of Crease Collision

“We have so many memories here,” Anna says. “I can’t imagine summers anywhere else.”

“If only these walls could talk,” Fredrik says, then looks at Ozzy. “Remember when you and Gunnar decided to play water hockey?”

“Water hockey?” I ask. “How did that work?”

“It was nothing,” Ozzy says, blushing. “We got the idea to roller blade down the dock into the water and play one-on-one.”

Anna breaks into a laugh. “And practically stabbing each other with your sticks.”

“Why stabbing each other?” I ask. “Didn’t you have a ball to play with?”

Ozzy lets out a good-natured huff. “We’d forgotten to bring one, so we thought a puck would do. But it sank, and our sticks got mired in the bottom of the lake. We almost stabbed each other while we were trying to pull them free.”

Our laughter sounds especially happy out here.

Fredrik reaches for Anna’s hand. “Getting this house was a good decision.”

I can’t help noticing how they look at each other. Whatever they felt when they were young, it seems only to have grown stronger over the years.

Could Ozzy and I ever have this? Or are we too focused on our careers to build something that lasts a lifetime?

Anna turns to me. “Next year, you must come for Midsommar. The celebration here at the lake is very special.”

“We’d love that,” I say, though Ozzy and I have never discussed it.

His smile lets me know I’ve said the right thing.

“Great idea, Mamma. I’d like Kai to experience a Swedish Midsommar.”

After breakfast, Ozzy stands and stretches. “Race you to the dock?” he asks, a glint in his eye. “Then in the water?”

“You’re on.” I already know I’ll lose. He always beats me at swimming, but I never get tired of trying.

We change into swim trunks and head back to the water.

On the dock, he asks, “Ready?”

“For?”

Without warning, he grabs me around the waist, lifts me, and swings me toward the lake. I try to fight back, but he’s stronger, and the cool water is a shock. I come up sputtering to find him treading water nearby, laughing.

“You’ll pay for that,” I say, splashing his face.

“Bring it on.”

He wins the race, of course. Afterward, we wrestle in the water until we’re both breathless, and I finally manage to dunk him. When he resurfaces, I pull him close and give him a quick kiss.

“Love you,” he whispers.

“Love you too.”

After lunch and a nap, we take a walk in the woods. The path is narrow, shaded by tall pines. Ozzy leads the way, reaching back to help me over fallen logs or through patches of mud.

We don’t talk much because I’m busy gawking at the glorious scenery. Eventually, the path widens, and we’re able to walk side by side. I break the silence. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is,” he says. “Not as beautiful as you, but close.”

I roll my eyes. “Smooth talker.”