found Milo’s parents, Nils and Yolanta, and his sister, Regina, all buzzing around in an organizing frenzy. Unlike at her own home, the Nilson family seemed to love being busy. Had this been her mom’s kitchen, with Mallory and Bryn inside, there’d be at least one spilled pan on the floor, one dry, overcooked ham smoldering in the oven, and a discarded dish towel starting to burn on the stove’s open flame.
“Good morning!” Nils exclaimed, in his bouncy, lilting Swedish accent.
“Are you here to help cook?” Regina asked. Of all the family, she was the least chill, Keira thought. She seemed to enjoy reveling in stress and bossing everyone around, whereas her parents were far more lighthearted about it all.
“Oh, Regina, leave them alone,” Yolanta said. “Keira’s our guest, must I remind you. And besides, we only have her for one more day. There’s no way she’s lifting a finger.”
Keira smiled at the sweet comment, but she felt her melancholy growing. Yolanta had brought up the fact that they were nearing the end of the countdown, that her time here was soon over.
“Milo still needs to help,” Regina said.
“I’d love to, dear sister,” he joked, slinging an arm around her. “What can I do to help?”
“You could start on the liver pâté,” she said, gesturing him to a chopping board set up on one of the counters. Beside it sat a lump of terrifying-looking meat. Keira felt her stomach churn.
Milo turned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Told you so.”
The family settled into their cooking, and Keira’s attempts to join in were constantly thwarted. In the end, she busied herself setting the table for breakfast, making it exceptionally neat. She adjusted the gaudy reindeer print tablecloth and laid out the elaborate silver candlesticks and Santa figurines. Then she moved on to tidying the room and straightening all the pictures. They’d previously spent a joyful evening decorating the whole house in Christmas-themed art – strange images depicting winter woodland nymphs – and she’d been assured this was a traditional Swedish thing to do.
From helping decorate their tall, densely branched tree with Swedish flags, tinsel, colored baubles, and electric lights, Christmas time in Sweden, Keira had learned, was a fun, lively, and often bizarre affair. But it wasn’t all strange. There was the usual excess of good food – the classic glazed ham served alongside more Swedish delicacies such as egg and anchovy mixture, herring (pickled, patéd, and in salad form), rye bread, potatoes, meatballs, beetroot salad, liver pâté, and a fish dish called lutfisk. And though the daylight hours were short, the skies had been blue, the sun shining, and the snow underfoot glistening and bright. When the long, dark evenings drew in, Yolanta lit the candles and their warming glow was comforting. Fresh hyacinths were ever present, filling the home with their powerful scent.
Just then, Keira heard clattering from behind and turned to see the family entering, their arms laden with dishes and trays which they began to place on the table. The excess of food for Christmas breakfast was even more mouth-watering than the last few days had been. Keira licked her lips in anticipation.
Everyone sat and began dishing out the food. Keira filled her plate with breads and cheeses, and gratefully accepted a cup of exceptionally strong, fresh brewed coffee.
“Do you know what your next assignment is going to be, Keira?” Yolanta asked, as she passed over a bowl of sliced tomatoes.
Keira took it and began heaping slices onto her plate. “Not yet,” she said. Then she confessed, “I technically haven’t finished the one I’m working on yet.”
“You’ve not?” Nils asked.
Keira shook her head. She didn’t like to think of the work still to be done hanging over her. But things with Viatorum, the magazine she wrote for, had become somewhat tense, and the ending they demanded was not the one she’d delivered. She was still negotiating with them how much freedom she deserved with her own work. But she also knew that she was pushing it all out, wanting to savor the moment instead of worrying about her job. That savoring would come to an abrupt end on her return to New York City.
“I hope next time you go somewhere warm,” Nils commented. “You should negotiate the Bahamas. Or New Zealand. It’s a beautiful place.”
Keira smiled, recalling how well traveled Milo’s father was. The complete opposite of his son, in fact. Milo had confessed to rarely leaving his home country due to a fear of flying and bouts of terrible homesickness.
“We need to toast,” Yolanta said suddenly, holding up her coffee mug. “To Christmas!”
Laughing, Keira raised her own mug, clinking it in turn with each of the family members and wishing them each a Merry Christmas as she did so.
As she looked around the table at the family, Keira felt a swell of love for them all. She really had loved the time she’d spent with them and would cherish it forever. It wasn’t every day that she got the opportunity to meet such a warm, friendly, caring family and have them open their arms and heart to her over the Christmas season. She was going to miss them desperately after leaving Sweden.
“Can we open presents now?” Regina asked as soon as the plates were empty.
Nils chuckled. “She is still a seven-year-old at heart. At least we get her to sit through breakfast these days. Back then we used to have to negotiate with her to let us sleep in beyond five a.m.!”
Yolanta laughed. “Let’s go sit around the tree.”
Everyone stood, leaving the table mess for later, and went into the living room.
“I can’t wait to give Keira her gift,” Yolanta said as they went. “It’s extra special.”
Keira felt touched to know Milo’s family had gone to so much effort for her. Before she’d agreed to stay for Christmas, they’d given her gifts to take back to New York and she’d been overwhelmed with gratitude enough. But when it turned out she was staying, the gifts had multiplied beneath the tree, almost to a level that embarrassed Keira. She didn’t feel like she deserved so much kindness. Compared to Christmases at home, she felt thoroughly spoiled.
“I have something special for Keira too,” Milo said.
She blushed. Out the corner of her mouth, she muttered, “You know I haven’t had time to buy anything.”
Milo laughed. “We know. No one minds. You don’t give gifts expecting them in return. That defeats the point of gifts.”
“I know,” Keira said, “but I feel so guilty. Everyone’s been absurdly accommodating.”
“Stop worrying.” Milo chuckled. “Your presence is our present!”
Keira rolled her eyes at his cheesy line, but she did feel a little better.
They entered the living room and all took their seats. Nils positioned himself on the floor, preparing to hand the gifts out. He picked up the first, which was wrapped in gorgeous sparkly silver paper.
“This is for Keira,” he said, reading the snowflake-shaped tag. “It’s from Yolanta.”
He passed it first to Yolanta, who then passed it on to Keira, clearly in some kind of family ritual. Keira took the large rectangular box, still feeling residual guilt about having nothing to give in return.
Carefully,
