The Outsiders - Chapter 4

 Sigrid

“So, are you and Jonas Østgaard dating?” My classmate, Elise, asks the question as we’re waiting for the rest of our study group to show up a Friday afternoon in mid-October.  Jonas and I have been dating for about a month, we’ve agreed to take things slow, and I think it’s working out very well for us. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, and Jonas hasn’t been in one since his accident. 

“Yeah, I we are,” I say happily.

“You do realize who he is? A few years ago pretty much every girl in Oslo would’ve given an arm to be in your position?” 

“Really?” I ask, unable to conceal my surprise.

“His dad is loaded, one of the richest people in Norway actually. He owns a chain of hotels and a lot of real estate. His two younger brothers are ‘it’ in the world of dating these days.”

It takes me a minute or five to process the information. I guess explains why Jonas can afford an apartment in one of the most expensive areas of the city and a new car. I must look as surprised as I feel.

“You had no idea, did you?” Elise asks me when she notices the look on my face.

I shake my head. “No. He never mentioned it to me.”

“I don’t think he has the greatest relationship with his father; he’s the oldest and he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps and eventually take over the business. Instead, he opted for becoming a carpenter. Rumor was that there was a huge fallout between him and his father and they haven’t spoken for years.”

“Wow, I had no idea,” I say. “He hasn’t told me much about his family, just mentioned that he’s the oldest of three boys a while back, but what you just told me explains that.”

“So, how is he?” Elise asks. I hesitate a little before I answer; I don’t want to compromise Jonas’ privacy.

“He’s great,” I reply. Fortunately, the remaining two members of our study group arrive and soon we’re immersed in our latest assignment. I’m relieved that I don’t have to discuss my relationship with Jonas further with my nosy classmates.

.....

Saturday Jonas calls me around noon. We have already made tentative plans to go out for dinner tonight. He calls to tell me there’s a new Indian restaurant not far from his apartment he wants to try, and he has made reservations at seven. He asks if I want to come over to his place for a drink before we head out for dinner. I happily accept.

“Um, and if you want to spend the night, you’re welcome to,” he adds hastily, his voice shifts from his normal confident tone to sounding more insecure. We still haven’t moved our relationship to the bedroom, and my heart skips a beat. He senses my surprise and hesitation and hastily adds; “We’ve been going out for a while now and I like the thought of waking up with you next to me in the morning. No pressure to go beyond kissing and sharing a bed, I promise.”

“I like the thought of waking up next to you too,” I say with a smile evident in my voice. “I’ll bring an overnight bag.”

We chat for a little longer and then we end the call. I spend the next half hour fussing over what to pack. Suddenly all my sleepwear and underwear seems kind of worn out and old. I check the time; it’s only four in the afternoon and Jonas asked me to be at his place around five thirty. I have time to do some emergency shopping on my way over there, I know there’s and H&M store not far from his place.  With that in mind I throw some things together in a duffle bag. 

On my way out of my apartment, I straighten out a few wrinkles on my wool cardigan, pull my coat on and head out into the chilly and dark October afternoon. 

…

A little after six o clock Jonas lets me in to his apartment. He is in his wheelchair. He still uses his crutches and braces from time to time, but the chair is his main means of locomotion these days. 

“Hey babe,” he greets me with a smile. As always, he looks yummy; dressed in a pair of navy blue chinos and a chocolate brown wool V-neck sweater with a light blue Oxford shirt under it. His feet are clad in brown leather shoes.

“Hey,” I reply with a smile, then I bend down and kiss him quickly on the lips. 

“You spent the afternoon shopping?” he asks as he rolls back and allows me to enter the apartment.  I’m carrying a small duffle bag with a change of clothes and my toiletries and a couple of shopping bags.

“Yeah, some emergency shopping after I realized that most of my sleepwear is appropriate for a ten-year old.”

Jonas chuckles. “I’m sure you look very sexy in Barbie pajamas.”

“Funny,” I say as I watch him close and lock the door. “I think you’ll prefer what I’ve got in this bag.” I hold up a bag from H&M for him to see.

“This means you’re spending the night, right?” he asks, hopefully.

“Yeah, I like the thought of waking up next to you too. If we don’t rush into anything it’s fine.”

“No pressure,” Jonas assures me. “I’m all for taking things slow.”

He wheels over to the couch and transfers to it; I plop down next to him and watch as he pours two glasses of wine from the bottle that’s already on the coffee table. He offers me one and takes the other one himself. I take a sip of it.

“This is good,” I say.

“Glad you like it. It’s South African by the way.”

I look at the label and instantly recognize it. “Oh, Spiers! I’ve been to that winery! It’s in Stellenbosch, just outside Cape Town. They have a great restaurant.”

“The Cape is like the wine district in South Africa, right?”

“Yeah, there are several wineries in the Cape area. Many of them have some sort of visitor’s center where you can taste their wine and buy it or course. I love Cape Town and the areas around.”

“It’s on my list of places I want to see, but travel hasn’t been on my agenda for the past few years. It might be time to change that.”

“I’d love to show you South Africa,” I tell him with a smile. An idea is forming in my mind. If what Elise told me is true, he might not be planning to spend Christmas with his family. I’m very tempted to invite him to spend the holidays with me in South Africa. I keep my mouth shut for now though.

Jonas

“So, one of the girls on my study group told me you’re quite the catch. That you used to be the most sought-after bachelor in Norway or something,” Sigrid mentions as we wait for our dinner at a new Indian restaurant in my neighborhood.

Although I knew I’d have to tell Sigrid about the mess that is my family one day I wasn’t prepared to get into it today. But I figure I might as well get it out of the way since the topic is already on the table. I pause for a moment to gather my thoughts.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay. She just really caught me by surprise because it’s not something you’ve mentioned,” Sigrid adds, probably reading my silence as hesitation. 

I take a deep breath and quickly shift my weight while I gather my thoughts. After a few beats of a somewhat awkward silence, I speak.

“My dad’s one of the richest men in Norway. Being the oldest, I was expected to go to business school and go work for him after I graduated, to prepare to eventually take over from him. It wasn’t something I was interested in, I was dead set on becoming a carpenter, like my uncle was, and applied for vocational studies in high school and got in.”

I pause and take a sip of my beer before I carry on.

“Dad was livid when he found out and Mom wasn’t happy either, but I ignored them and did what I wanted to. I ended up moving to my uncle, mom’s older brother, he was a contractor and was happy to “adopt” me when he heard about my plans. After two years in vocational school, I was an apprentice for three years to I get my trade certificate. I had been working full-time for my uncle’s construction company for little over four years when I was injured.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Short version; I fell off a stepladder. Doesn’t sound that serious, right?” I say wryly.  “Well, where I landed was maximum bad luck, I hit the edge of a stack of drywall sheets and broke my back. My injury level was determined to at L2/L3, which means I’m paralyzed from a little below my hips down.”

“I figured your injury was low, you seem to have full control of your upper body,” Sigrid says.

“Yeah, my core muscles are pretty much intact and actually have some sensation in the hip region and upper thighs, but from about my crotch down it’s pretty much gone. It’s a complete injury.” I’m pretty sure she knows the difference between incomplete and complete spinal cord injuries, and her nod confirms that.

Sigrid

“Anyway, when my parents came to see me in the hospital just after the accident, Dad kept harping about how I should have listened to him and opted for business school.”

“Seriously? You were in the hospital with a broken back, a life changing injury, and that was your father’s response? That’s just fucked up,” I exclaim, unable to restrain myself.

“Yeah…” he sighs. “I was in pain both physically and emotionally; I’d just had surgery and had learned that I’d never walk again a few hours earlier. The only ‘support’ Dad offered was to tell me it was my own fault for not listening to him ten years earlier. Mom was fussing about having to call an architect, because she couldn’t see how they could install a ramp without it being an eyesore. I ended up kicking them out. Not literally kicking them, obviously.”

“So, you don’t have any contact with your family?”

“Not much. I talk to my mom from time to time, to keep her from worrying about me too much. I haven’t talked to my dad since he walked out of my hospital room more than three years ago. I figure it’s his loss, not mine.”

“What about your brothers?”

“We were never close; they’re twins and several years younger than me. After my accident, we’ve met a few times. It’s just awkward and I don’t think that’ll change.”

“That’s sad.”

Jonas

“It is what it is,” I say with a shrug. “I was very close with my uncle, he was single and childless, so in a way I became his son. Despite fighting cancer, he supported me through my recovery and rehab. Don’t think I would’ve come as far as I have if I didn’t have his support through the first year after I was injured. He passed away a couple of years ago. It’s thanks to him I have money. I was the sole beneficiary of his will. I’d rather have him here than the money, though,” I say, my is a little husky at the end. I still miss him. A lot. He was more of a father to me than my dad has ever been.

Sigrid reaches her hand across the table and places it on my forearm. We sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, then I decide to break the silence; “What about your family?”

“I’m very close with my parents, but I don’t really know the rest of my family that well. Grandparents, aunts and uncles…,” Sigrid replies. She takes a sip of her wine before she carries on. “We’ve lived far from Norway as long as I can remember and since my parents worked freelance money were often tight, so we couldn’t afford to fly back to Norway a lot.  Mom and dad made sure we travelled here for Christmas every year, and they managed a few summer visits handful times, but it’s not enough to really get to know people. I have several cousins that are about my age, but I’ve barely met them. If we ran into one of them, I wouldn’t recognize them. I’ll be able to connect with at least some of them now that I’ve moved here.”

...

It’s a little past midnight when we arrive back at my apartment. We’re both tired and decide to go to bed. I tell Sigrid can use his guest bathroom. I’m not ready for her to see the accessible master bathroom just yet. I excuse myself and wheel into to the master bedroom.  

I grab a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt from my closet and transfer to the bed to change. After that’s done, I get back into my chair and make my way to the bathroom to do my evening routine, which includes my bowel program. It usually takes me about 20-25 minutes, so Sigrid will probably be in bed by the time I’m done. 

I’m equally excited and nervous about the thought of sharing a bed with her for the first time. My worst nightmare is to have a bowel or bladder accident during the night, but that hasn’t happened in years. I’ve got good bladder and bowel routines that’s worked well for a long time, so I’m just overthinking things.

Sigrid

After I’ve changed into my new pajamas; a pair of grey cotton pants with a floral print and a plain grey t-shirt I check my appearance in the mirror above the sink. I’m nervous about tonight. And exited. With a nervous sigh I turn off the light in the bathroom and walk across the hall to the master bedroom.

The door is ajar, so I push it open and take a tentative step into the room. Jonas isn’t there yet, he’s still in the bathroom. I know he’s got a routine to go through, and it probably takes a while. I’m a bit unsure of what to do. I look around the room; the walls are painted in a dark grey and the furniture is like in the rest of his apartment; modern and masculine. 

A large bed dominates the room; the bedding is a dark grey with a geometric pattern. On the wall opposite from the foot of the bed a large TV takes up most of the space between two doors; I assume that one leads to the bathroom and the other one to a walk-in closet. In a corner of the room two pairs of crutches are leaning against the wall, and a wheelchair is parked next to them. 

On the bedside table on the right side of the bed there’s a couple of remotes, a MagSafe phone charger and a stack of magazines in addition to a lamp. On the opposite side of the bed there’s only a lamp. I sit down on the foot of the bed and wait for Jonas.

Jonas wheels out of the bathroom about 25 minutes later and smiles when he sees me sitting on his bed. He’s wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and is dressed in a pair of plaid flannel sleep pants and a faded t-shirt. His feet are bare on the footrest

“Nice pajamas,” he compliments as he wheels up to right side of bed and pull the covers back. 

“Thanks,” I reply. “I like the glasses. They look good on you.” 

“Glad to hear that. I wear contacts most of the time, but sometimes it’s good to give my eyes a break from them,” he says as he grabs his phone from his lap and places it on the charger.

I slide into bed and sit against the headboard and watch as Jonas parks his chair next to the bed, lifts his feet off the footrest and plant one hand on the mattress and the other on the seat of his wheelchair. In one swift movement he lifts his butt onto the bed. Then he lifts his legs onto the bed and adjust their position before he covers them with the duvet. 

Then he his glasses off and place them on his nightstand before he lay down.  As soon as he’s settled in bed I lay down next to him and kiss him on the lips. He wraps his strong arms around me and pulls me closer.

“I could get used to this,” I say contentedly as I curl up against Jonas’ side.

...

Over the next couple of weeks Jonas and I continue to grow closer; I spend the night at his place several times a week and we’ve both become more confident between the sheets. Taking things slow has proved to be the right thing for both of us.  

It’s Sunday afternoon and I’ve just returned to my apartment after spending the weekend with Jonas. It’s the first weekend of November and our fall term finals are only a couple of weeks away.  Both of us will be buried in books and busy with our studies for the foreseeable future.

In about six weeks I’ll be on a plane on my way to spend three weeks in South Africa and I still haven’t invited Jonas along. He has confirmed that he isn’t planning to spend the holidays with his family. Jonas told me used to celebrate Christmas with his late uncle, and after he passed away, he has opted to make some good food and binge his favorite TV-series over Christmas.  

Time is running out and flights are filling up, so I know it’s time to talk to my parents.  I send a WhatsApp message to Mom and ask her if she’s got time for a Skype call today.

Half an hour later her face fills the screen of my laptop.

“Hi Sigrid! How are you? We haven’t heard from you in a while,” she says.

“I’m good Mom. Just busy with school.” 

“And your boyfriend?” she teases. I’ve told my parents about Jonas.

“Busted,” I say with a laugh. 

We chat for a few minutes, and I fill her in on what I’ve been up to lately and I promise I’ll try to make time to have with my grandparents more often. I’ve turned down a couple of their invitations because of dates with Jonas, and they’ve relayed their disappointment to Mom.

“You seem happy,” she says as the conversation is coming to an end.

“I am. I still feel like a bit of an outsider at school, I haven’t made many friends there, but I like my major and the lectures are interesting. My Norwegian is getting better too.”

“I can hear that. Not that it was bad before.”

“Thanks Mom. I have something I want to ask you.”

“Well, ask away.”

“Would it be okay if I invited Jonas to come with me to South Africa for Christmas break? He doesn’t have any contact with his family and is planning to spend Christmas alone in his apartment.”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. And you know your father tends to agree with me, so you’re good to go if you manage to find affordable tickets on such short notice,” she says.  “Have you discussed it with Jonas yet?”

“No, I wanted to be sure it’s okay with you and Dad first. Didn’t want to get his hopes up and then disappoint him if you said no.”

“We’re happy to host him. We’d both like to meet him.”

“Thanks, Mom. I know you’ll both like him! He’s great! There is something you should know about him though,” I add. I haven’t told my parents about Jonas’ disability yet. When Mom doesn’t reply I carry on; “He’s paralyzed, from the hips down. He got hurt in a workplace accident little over three years ago and broke his back. He mostly uses a wheelchair to get around but he can manage with leg braces and crutches too. He’s totally independent, it’s not like he needs a nurse or anything like that. And our house should be ok. I mean its spacious, floors are mostly hardwood, doors are wide enough for his chair to fit through, I think… Don’t think differently about him because he’s disabled,” I plead. “He’s a great guy. He’s smart, kind and…”

“Sigrid,” Mom cuts me off. “From what you’ve told me about him he seems like a great guy. And what you told me doesn’t change that opinion. If he agrees to come, I’ll leave it up to him to tell us what he needs and we’ll figure it out. Ok?”

“Sounds like a plan. You’re the best,” I tell Mom. “Gotta call Jonas now, so I’ll alk to you soon,”

“Love you and miss you.”

“Love and miss you too. Say hi to Dad from me, okay?”

“I will.”

We end the call and I place my laptop on the coffee table and flop back against the couch. She said yes! I can bring Jonas!  I check the time; it’s only 5:30 in the afternoon. I grab my iPhone and quickly dial his number. He picks up almost instantly. 

“Hey babe,” he greets me happily. “What’s up? Didn’t expect to hear from you today.”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

“Huh?” He’s clearly a little thrown by the question, but he pulls himself together quickly.  “Nothing particular. It’ll probably be me, some good food and a stack of movies. Why do you ask?”

“Wanna go to South Africa with me?”

“What?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“You heard me. Would you like to come to South Africa with me for Christmas break?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I talked to my parents, and they said you’re more than welcome to come.  And I’d be thrilled if you want to come.”

“I…I don’t know what to say…”

“Say that you want to come to South Africa with me.”

 

Image credits: ChatGPT

 

To be continued