Page 25 of From Helsinki with Love
“Yes, Pappa,” we say in unison in Swedish, ending the conversation with a shared laugh. It’s moments like these that remind me how lucky I am to have the family I have.
Before I get into the shower after the call, I quickly order food from the nearby restaurant. I’m planning on taking Vivian grocery shopping later, but knowing myself, I better be fed beforehand.
* * *
Taking the last bite of the early dinner, I observe Vivian’s reactions as she finishes her plate. Unsure of what she would prefer, I selected a variety of dishes for us to enjoy—salads with different protein options, baked potatoes filled with popular Swedish-style shrimp filling called Skagenröra, and sandwiches. She appears to enjoy every bite, which puts me at ease. I would hate it if she was a picky eater, as I want to introduce her to many of my Finnish and Nordic favorites.
“I was thinking we could go and get us more food for the next few days,” I suggest, washing the food down with water.
“I thought your fridge was stocked?”
“Well, not exactly. I had no idea I was going to have a guest, so there are only the basics as I was going to stay at my parents’ place for a few nights starting tomorrow.”
The smile disappears from her face. “Oh…I hope I didn’t ruin your plans.”
“Hey, don’t even think about it. I’m just changing them to fit the new situation. We’ll make it all work.”
“Okay then, let’s go get some food,” Vivian agrees and gets up to clear the table before disappearing to the guest room.
When she comes out a moment later, she’s wearing a dark green parka and a knitted red beanie with one of those pompom thingies. Matching mittens complete the look. I can’t help but admire how she makes something simple look that great. Once again, I wish I was wrapped around her instead of a piece of fabric.
“Ready?” she asks hesitantly when she notices me staring at her too long.
I smile, shaking my head to clear my thoughts, and grab my black puffer jacket before replying, “Let’s go.”
Vivian and I step out of the building onto a lamplit street and walk to the nearby shopping center with a supermarket on its ground floor. Vivian, still smiling like she has most of our time in Helsinki, takes our surroundings in with wide-eyed wonder. “The streets, the buildings, the language…it’s all so new to me!”
“Haven’t you been to Europe before?”
“I have, but like London, Paris, and two weeks in Italy. Those places are quite different from each other and what I see around me right now.”
I smile, appreciating her enthusiasm. “They surely are.”
“What I can tell so far, Helsinki is such a mix of different eras of architecture. We have to walk around more so I can take it all in.”
I nod, gently bumping into her shoulder. “We can plan the walking tour later. We’ll have time to do that after the Christmas celebrations with my family.”
“You know what…I love going to supermarkets abroad to see what they offer,” she tells me as we enter the mall, the speakers playing Michael Bublé’s “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas”.
I glance her way while humming to the song that is such an earworm. “That’s great—I’ve missed many Finnish foods and can’t wait to make you try them, so let’s see what we can find.”
“What’s one food that I should eat while here?”
“All the fish you can. My family likes to have lots of it and other seafood during the Christmas dinner, too, so we’ll be covered tomorrow.”
“Is it a Finnish thing to serve fish during the holidays?”
“Sure, but I think it’s even more common in Swedish-speaking parts,” I explain.
“I have no idea what else you guys have. It’s one of the things I decided not to google before the trip,” she admits, unzipping her winter jacket, revealing the curves that I can’t stop admiring.
“Then I won’t tell you more before you experience joulupöytä, which means Yule table, tomorrow.”
Once at the supermarket, we make our way around the store, exploring the aisles of Finnish delicacies. We both have our own shopping baskets that quickly fill with food that either I recommend, or Vivian wants to try. She’s intrigued by Finnish food items and picks out items like salty licorice, Fazer milk chocolate, and Karelian pasties. My basket is filled with drinks, pickled cucumbers, cured salmon, and dairy products like sour milk and quark. We also buy basic breakfast food.
As we wait in the checkout line, I spot the newspapers with my face on the covers and groan. Following my line of sight, Vivian sees what made me react like I did.
“At least they picked photos where you look great,” she whispers, trying to lighten the mood.
