Page 36 of The Second Chance Bus Stop

J o nk o ping

Two days have passed since we arrived in J o nk o ping, and we’ve both grown fond of this spot. It features a narrow leaf-covered path down to the smallest lake I’ve ever seen.

Once you wade past the algae the water is clear and cool. I’ve just gotten back from a run and I go over my schedule as I

stretch too briefly. Today I’m meeting Sven number four, who lives a two-hour drive away. For those keeping score at home:

number one was happily married for fifty years, number two never left the country and number three went missing in 1996. Only

two more Svens to go, and I’m feeling less than hopeful.

I’m just about to open the cabin and start the coffee machine when Sophia comes around the corner, water dripping from her

black fitted swimsuit. Which stops me in my tracks. I stand with the door open, a foot on the step.

‘You’re letting mosquitos in,’ she says, using her two hands to squeeze water out of her hair. I follow the drops as they

travel vertically across her skin. I almost turn around because I feel I shouldn’t be looking then remember that I’m an adult,

and she’s wearing a swimsuit. Appropriate clothing for a lake swim.

‘Hey,’ I manage.

‘You should get in. ‘You never regret a green vegetable, a pension fund or a freshwater swim’ is what my dad always says.’

‘I’d like to disagree, as someone who’s once attempted a triathlon in February and who is allergic to avocado.’

‘Just get in. I’ll go grab you a towel.’

‘Good idea.’ I can’t stop following her body’s contours, and I think she’s right, I do desperately need a bucket, or a whole

lake, of cold water over my head right about now. But above all, I have lost all power to say anything other than yes to this

girl. I take my shirt off and throw it on the big rock where we hang our clothes to dry, that faces the afternoon sun. With

her present, I feel suddenly and oddly self-conscious.

‘Are you coming with me?’ I ask, and she is looking at me intently, like she wants to say something.

‘I just went for one, didn’t I? I’ll make the coffee.’

Right.

‘Catch,’ she says as she throws me a towel which I miss and have to bend down and pick up off the ground.

‘Enjoy.’

I trod off towards the lake, eyes firmly on the path ahead, looking out for fast adders or a forest snail in front of my feet,

fighting the urge to look back the whole way.