“And here she is!” Andreas announces.
J has been staring at his notebook, and now he looks up just as Kerstin appears from behind him. She looks a little older than Andreas, but J isn’t sure if that’s because of her age or her demeanor. Her red hair is cropped short, and she has a light purple birthmark under her left ear. She’s wearing a bright blue blazer that matches the bright blue frames of her glasses.
Andreas stands to greet her, and the two of them kiss as if she’s just gotten home. J stands too, but that only makes his observation of their affection more awkward for him. If this were a cartoon, they would be the source of a rainbow and he would have a cloudover his head. Or maybe the floor would open up beneath him and he’d hang in the air for a moment, wondering what to do.
This is a pattern that J does not like to admit to himself: When he is dating somebody, he doesn’t really feel competitive with any of the lovers around him. He takes their happiness at face value, because he knows the value of his own happiness. He doesn’t need what they have, as long as he has his own version.
But when he’s single, he suddenly feels like he’s putting all his weight on a phantom limb. He doesn’t envy the couples around him as much as he feels the world is teeming with inadequacy. His own. Theirs. It feels like everyone is playing a parlor game called Don’t Be Lonely! and while others have forgotten it’s a game, he understands that a winning hand only lasts until the next cards are dealt.
Andreas is now introducing J to Kerstin, and Kerstin to J. She tells him what an honor it is to meet him, how she loves his music so much, how it never occurred to her when she was at one of his concerts that someday he would be playing a song at her wedding. She repeats the story of Andreas seeing J’s record the first time he came to her place. Instead of calling it serendipity, she calls it fate.
“Thank you,” J says. “The honor is truly mine. The man you are marrying is the nicest man in the world.”
Andreas immediately protests (“I killed a fly just the other day!”), but Kerstin agrees.
“I’m very, very lucky,” she says.
Andreas looks at his watch and says he needs to be going—he’s called in a favor at a bespoke tailor, and it would be rude to keep the woman waiting.
Kerstin kisses him goodbye, then takes his seat. J asks her if she wants anything to eat or drink. She says she’s happy just to talk, and to finish the coffee Andreas has left.
J explains again how everything will work.
“Really, it’s unbelievable of you to do this,” Kerstin says at the end of the explanation.
“If the roles were reversed, and I needed a silver tea service or a Bentley or a robe once worn by Greta Garbo herself, I know Andreas would do the same.”
Kerstin smiles. “You’re absolutely right. But not everyone reciprocates his kindness. Most of his family takes from him without giving much back. And some of the people he’s dealt with in his business—well, it means so much to him to see the best in people, but they don’t always deserve that.” Kerstin pauses, as if she’s just overheard herself talking at another table. “Listen to me! What an awful way to start. Please don’t put any of that in your song.”
J is now concerned. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes. Through his eyes, everyone is his friend. And I’m very careful what I share with him about what I see through my eyes, because he has so much faith in everyone, and I don’t want him to lose that. And, please, don’t get me wrong—there are many, many people like you, who understand his kindness and are kind in return. Because we believe that is how the world should work.”
“To be loved, and love in return,” J says.
Kerstin leans back in her chair. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?”
“Just because you love someone...it doesn’t mean they have to love you back. Whereas with kindness, you should be able to be able to be kind to anyone who is kind to you.”
Her words repeat themselves in V’s voice.Just because you love someone...it doesn’t mean they have to love you back. Has V actually said this to him? Or is it just that he can imagine her saying it to him, in response to him saying he loves her?
“I’m so sorry,” Kerstin says. “I’ve come off to you as cynical about love. Let me put it this way—if kindness is easier to reciprocate, then that means love is more meaningful to receive. Because love must include kindness, but kindness does not have to include love.”
“I can’t disagree with that.”
“You are with someone?”
And there it is, asked by someone who has no idea how her innocent question brings out something akin to guilt.
If he saysI am,he’s a liar...isn’t he?
If he saysI’m not,he’s given up...right?
“Oh,” Kerstin says. “I see. I’m sorry.”
“No, no—it’s not as bad as that. There’s no need to be sorry.”
