Chapter 1: Lost and Found

December, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

-Frank Zappa

I arrived in Chicago just before 3:00am on Christmas Day, under a light rain that matched the tears occasionally rolling down my cheeks. Surprisingly, there was a spot near the door to the apartment building, so I parked, grabbed my bags, and hurried inside. I kicked off my shoes as I let the apartment door shut the world out, walked down the hall, and simply collapsed on my bed, not even bothering to get undressed. My last conscious thought was that I'd made it to Chicago in one piece before my exhaustion — mental, emotional, and physical — claimed me, and I fell asleep.

I was jarred awake by the ringing of the phone. I blinked several times and looked at the alarm clock — 6:00am. I unplugged the phone by the bed but could still hear the ringing of the other extension, then the click of the answering machine. I couldn't hear the message being left, and I simply didn't care. I pulled Stephie's pillow, or what had been her pillow, before I broke up with her, over my head and fell back asleep.

I was again jarred awake, this time by pounding on the door, which I heard even through the pillow covering my head. I squinted at the alarm clock and saw it was 9:30am. I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

"Mr. Adams? Are you in there?" a deep voice said, followed by more knocking.

I dragged myself out of bed and walked towards the door.

"Mr. Adams? Chicago Police officers. Please open the door if you're in there."

Shit. The police. My car was out front, so they knew I was here. I had no idea what they wanted, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

"Coming!" I hollered and trudged the last few steps towards the door.

I opened the door to see two uniformed police officers and someone I recognized from the rental office who had a ring of keys.

"Mr. Adams?" the taller of the two officers asked.

"Yeah," I said, still groggy and out of sorts.

"We were called to make a well-check on you. It seems your family is concerned that you might have tried to harm yourself."

That had to have been my dad or my little sister. Probably both. I wondered who had called my house and figured it had to have been either Melanie or Trudy.

"I'm fine, Officer. I got in about 3:00am and went right to bed. I didn't even take off my clothes."

"You don't mind if we come in for a moment, do you?" the shorter, heavier cop asked.

"I'm fine, Officers. Honestly. My girlfriend in Ohio broke up with me and I came home. That's all there is to it. I'm upset, and I really just need to be alone right now."

"Do you have your ID?" the taller cop asked. "Just so we can be sure we're talking to the right guy?"

I fished my wallet from my pocket and handed over my Illinois driving license. The cops looked at it, looked at me, and handed it back to me.

"OK, Sir. Because you're telling us you're fine and you look fine, that's all," the tall one said.

"Call your family, kid," the other cop said. "They're worried."

I nodded, thanked them, and shut the door. I turned on the stove to heat the kettle and prepared the teapot. I looked over at the answering machine and saw the light blink six times. I sighed and walked over to it, turned up the volume, and pushed the button to play the messages.

The machine beeped, indicating the end of the message.

Another beep.

Another beep. I heard my little sister's voice, and she sounded frantic.

Another beep.

Another beep.

Another beep.

A final double beep indicated the end of the messages. I hit the button to erase the recordings, unplugged the phone, and went to take a hot shower. I spent quite a bit of time under the hot water, trying to chase away the cobwebs and trying to make sense of what had happened just twelve hours earlier. Eventually I turned off the water and decided to go for a run because, despite it being December 25th, the weather was warm, in the low 60s.

I turned the heat under the kettle to low, then went outside. I followed my usual route that took me to Washington Park and ran along the paths under the trees that were barren like my soul. I felt empty, confused, and totally defeated. I had been prepared to give Kara exactly what she'd wanted from the moment we first met — an engagement ring. But then, just a minute or so before I would have done it, everything had gone straight to hell. Fate, that conniving bitch, had screwed me over one more time.

Everything had gone straight to hell because I hadn't been smart enough to see the damned warning signs and I'd been too confident in Kara's abilities to set her own limits. It had gone to hell because of Joyce Abbadelli, who should have known better. It had gone to hell because of years of what I was now sure was brainwashing by Alan Blanchard and Kent van der Meer. It had gone to hell because I couldn't commit.

I wondered if things with Kara could be salvaged. I wondered if the relationship, like the legendary Phoenix, could rise from the ashes. Everything would depend on Kara, and that would mean overcoming her disgust with herself over the encounter with Joyce, and coming to terms with having been a 'fornicator' for nearly two years. I sighed deeply at that thought, because it was a hell of a lot to overcome.

I knew I should call home, but I wasn't emotionally ready to do that. I needed to talk to someone, but there was nobody that really lived close enough to talk to face-to-face. Jackie was the closest, but she wasn't really someone I felt I could talk to about what was going on. Cindi lived in Madison, which was even further away, and again, not someone I thought I could talk to about this. Everyone else was home in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Georgia, or some other far-flung state. I had a crisis and nobody near me to turn to.

As I made my way back towards the apartment, I realized that I had two important calls to make — my Christmas call to Karin, and a call to Tatyana, to honor my promise of letting her know when major things happened in my life — even if I didn't feel like doing that. I thought about it a bit more and realized exactly who I could call for advice. In fact, two names popped into my head — Sofia Katsaros and Jennie Sanders.

Once back in the apartment, I quickly showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen. I realized that I'd need to shop, but it was Christmas Day. I rummaged in the cupboards and found Elyse's emergency supply of Pop-Tarts and toasted and ate a couple of them and drank some tea. When I finished, I plugged in the phone. It immediately started ringing, but I didn't answer. After about fifteen rings, it stopped, and I picked up the receiver and dialed Karin's number.

"«God Jul!»" I said as cheerily as I could to Lars Andersson.

"«God Jul, Steve»," He replied, very subdued. "I suppose you want to speak to Karin."

"Yes, please."

Karin came to the phone, and we wished each other Merry Christmas. She sounded subdued, just as Lars had.

"I guess I can tell you my decision now," Karin said.

"Actually, before you do, let me tell you what happened last night. To be fully honest, I was prepared to ask Kara to marry me last night, but before I could do it, she broke up with me. I drove back to Chicago last night after that happened and that's where I'm calling from now."

"Oh my! Are you OK?" she asked with genuine concern in her voice.

"I'm numb, I guess. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone or seeing anyone when I got up this morning, but after I ran, I realized that I couldn't miss my call with you."

"I'm not sure how to say this, and I don't want to sound mean, but does this mean you two are really finished?"

"In all honesty, I don't know. All I can do now is wait and see if it's salvageable at all. I can't really say one way or the other."

She was quiet for a bit, "Then I'm going to visit in six weeks. I had decided not to, but I think we need to be together. I'll tell my dad and we'll book the tickets. My original plan was to come on February 6th and stay for one week. Is that OK?"

"Yes," I said. "That's fine. I'm looking forward to it. It will be good to see you."

"You do realize that if you and Kara fix things, I may decide not to come?" she said.

"I do. I promise that I'll tell you if anything changes."

"Maybe it's wrong to say, but I love you, Steve Adams, always and forever."

"I love you too, Karin Andersson!" I said.

I promised to call her again in a few days and then we hung up. It was still a bit early on Christmas Day to call Jennie, and I didn't know for sure what Tatyana and her family would be doing, so I called Sofia.

"Oh my God! Steve! I'm so happy you called! How are you?"

"Not too good. I need some advice from my best friend in Sweden," I sighed.

"What's wrong, «älskling»?" ("sweetheart")

I explained what had happened, including every detail and important fact that I could think of. I bared my soul and my relationship to the girl who had briefly been my lover, then my long-term confidant, and then, again briefly, my lover. She listened quietly, interrupting only once to ask a question. When I finished, she was quiet for a minute or so.

"Please, please don't take this the wrong way, but you could get the ring back and have it resized to fit me!" she said, then giggled.

I couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm not surprised that you would say that. I hope you don't mind if we stick to advice for now."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," Sofia said. "I guess, in reality, all you can do is try to talk to her. That's the first step. If she's really upset about the thing with her girlfriend, then I'm not sure what you can do except be patient and love Kara and hope she can come to terms with it. If she can't, well, I'm afraid that probably means that it's over between you two.

"If she can come to terms with it, then maybe, just maybe, she can get past the whole issue with sin and accept the ring from you. My advice if that happens is that you not have sex with her until you get married. That might be hard on the two of you, but I think it's important. Of course, that means you would get married soon, because I know you pretty well," she said, laughing softly.

"Yeah," I sighed. "But that assumes she'll talk to me. She was pretty agitated last night."

"Think about what must have been going through her mind when you were making love. And how she must have felt — dirty, sinful, and wicked. Give her a little time to calm down, then try to talk to her."

"You've always given me good advice, Sofia, and today has been no different. Thanks."

"Well, my real advice is that you drive to the Chicago airport, get on the first available plane to Sweden, and move in with us! You could go to Chalmers to finish university."

I chuckled, "Well, I'd need a residence permit for that, and it takes a few months to get one!"

"I was teasing, but you know it's not a bad option, really. Chalmers is a good school."

"It's certainly something to think about. Please greet your parents for me, and I'll see you in June."

"That's confirmed?" she asked.

"I should get my tickets from Katt's parents any day now."

"Great! Please call and write. Often!" she said.

"I promise that I will. Thanks again."

I hung up the phone and unplugged it again. I decided I didn't need to call Jennie because she'd likely give me the same advice that Sofia had, and I wasn't ready to talk to anyone at all in Milford at this point. I poured myself another cup of tea and decided to start a load of laundry. Unsurprisingly, all the machines were available and I could run all three loads simultaneously. I went back upstairs and started working on a grocery list. It dawned on me that Tatyana and I were supposed to celebrate Russian Christmas when she was here, so I added some things to the list, including a small artificial tree.

That thought caused a wave of emotion to run through my body. I picked up my cup, left the list on the table, and went to sit in the bay window. I sipped my tea and stared out into the street, lost in my thoughts. I finished the cup of tea and put on the kettle to make more. I noticed the clock and realized that I should move my wash to the dryer. I went to the laundry room and did that, then came back upstairs and put the tea in to steep. I picked up my grocery list and finished writing it out, adding a few additional items to the list of Christmas decorations.

When I finished, I went downstairs to get the two weeks of mail that had accumulated in the box. There was a note from the Post Office to come pick up two packages that wouldn't fit in the box, but I couldn't do that on Christmas Day. There was a note from Theo that said I should come by to see him when I got back, and that I shouldn't use the phone to call him or Frank.

I sorted through the mail, found an envelope that obviously contained airline tickets, opened it and reviewed the itinerary, then continued sorting the mail, setting aside the bills for later. There was a letter and Christmas card from Tina Hoff, and cards from several other friends in Sweden — Pia, Torbjörn, Suzanne, the Anderbergs, Elizabeth, and, surprisingly, Annie. There were also cards from Pam, Katt, Ivan Voronin in his official capacity, and Tatyana, with a note saying she was sending the card for my Christmas.

I'd sent all of them cards, so there wasn't anything to do except read them and put them aside. I read Tina's letter but didn't feel like answering it just yet, so I set it aside as well. I looked at the note from Theo and wondered what had happened, that I shouldn't be using the phone, but figured Christmas Day wasn't the time to contact him. Finally, I opened the bills and wrote out the checks that were due.

By the time I'd finished that, my laundry was dry, and I retrieved it, then folded everything and put it away. I set aside a few shirts that needed to be ironed, but I planned to do that later. It was lunch time, so I got out some knäckebröd, butter, and cheese and made myself several open-faced, Swedish-style sandwiches, and washed them down with a Dr Pepper. For dinner I'd thaw one of the last three pieces of the chicken I had in the freezer, but I'd have to shop first thing in the morning if I wanted a substantial meal.

When I finished lunch, I took a cup of tea and sat in the bay window to contemplate what I should do next. I knew I'd have to call home at some point, but I really didn't want to do it yet. I was sure that the Chicago Police had called the Milford Police or Clermont County Sheriff, whoever my dad had called, to report back that I was safe, and for the moment, that was enough. I needed to call Katt and let her know that I'd received the tickets, though once again I wasn't happy with having to talk to anyone. I finished the cup of tea, then plugged in the phone, lifted the receiver, and dialed Colorado.

Inger answered the phone and greeted me warmly. I thanked her for the tickets, wished her a Merry Christmas, and asked to speak to Katt. After we wished each other «God Jul», I told her what had happened the night before.

"Oh my God!" Katt exclaimed. "Are you doing OK? Do you need me to come to Chicago? I'll come today if you want!" she said.

"No, please, stay with your family and, most importantly, stay with Mikael. Right now, I just need to be alone."

"That's not true and you know it! You need comforting and I can comfort you. Mikael will understand."

I chuckled, "I know he would, but right now I honestly need to be by myself. I'll be OK. I promise. If you want to call and check up on me, that's fine, just wait a few days, please."

"So, what will you do now?" Katt asked.

"Try to talk to her. That's all I can do. I'll give her a little time to calm down first, but then I have to see if there is any way to fix things."

"Let me know if I can help," she said.

We talked for a couple of minutes about the wedding plans, then said our goodbyes. I hung up the phone and unplugged it, then got out the ironing board and iron, and ironed the three shirts that I'd set aside and went to hang them in my closet. I stopped, my hand halfway to placing the shirt on the bar; the closet I had planned to share with Kara starting in May, but which now, most likely, I'd share with Stephie. Or would I?

Chapter 2 »