‘Like with my parents and your parents,’ Magnús said. ‘Did Chloe lose her parents too?’
He nodded again. ‘Yes, but there are also some other things that have made her sad too.’ He paused for a beat before continuing. ‘However, I do know that she also laughs very much, sometimes even at my jokes.’
Magnús groaned. ‘You are not serious. Why?’
‘Because some people find them funny.’
‘Some people are stupid,’ Magnús said.
‘Hey!’
‘But it does not matter if she laughs at your jokes if she is going to be sick because of your food.’
‘That is not funny.’
‘No, it is the truth!’
Gunnar laughed. ‘OK, OK, so if Hildur cannot cook, and I will not let her cook no matter what she says, what do we do?’
‘Takeout?’ Magnús suggested.
Gunnar shook his head. ‘No, Magnús, I actually think maybe… you and I should cook together.’
There was no response as Gunnar had to slow the truck down for a red traffic light and stop. Was Magnús not going to say anything?
‘What do you think?’ Gunnar asked him.
‘I think,’ Magnús began. ‘That the last time we cooked together was the first time that I spoke to you after the volcano.’
He remembered. He hadn’t been certain that Magnús would. That perhaps he might have chosen to forget.
‘I know,’ Gunnar said. ‘It is one of my best memories of when you first came to live with me. The first word you said to me was “no”. Something you have been saying to me regularly ever since.’
‘You asked me if I liked cauliflower. What was I supposed to say?’
He smiled. ‘We do not have to make cauliflower. You can help me choose what we cook.’
Magnús’s eyes lit up. ‘Can we make a traditional Christmas dinner? If Chloe is going back to England before Christmas she will miss eating it with us so we should make that.’
Now Gunnar felt nauseous. It was no small task to cook the smoked lamb and all the trimmings. But Magnús’s face was so alive with joy he didn’t have the heart to dampen his idea or his spirits.
‘You will help me?’ Gunnar checked. ‘Because it has to be good.’
‘I promise,’ Magnús said sincerely, ‘that however it turns out it will be better than your jokes.’
‘You really are taking every opportunity to make fun of me, aren’t you?’ Gunnar said light-heartedly.
‘I will do it even more when you are practicing dancing with me when we get home,’ Magnús remarked.
The light turned green and Gunnar drove off again. ‘OK, Magnús. Smoked lamb, with caramelised potatoes and green beans.’
‘Good,’ Magnús said, nodding. ‘And you need to buy a new shirt. Everything you have is too old. Again, like your jokes.’
As Magnús laughed at his own humour and turned on the radio, raising the volume as a Christmas song came on, Gunnar let this feeling of complete contentment sink down deep into his conscience. This felt good. Life was good.
59
TWO DAYS LATER
