Chapter 69: European Vacation

July 14, 1995, Chicago, Illinois

“Do we have everything?” Elyse asked.

I chuckled, “Seven kids, five adults, passports, tickets, credit cards, traveler’s checks, and luggage. What am I missing?”

“Nothing!” Jessica and Kara both exclaimed.

“Let’s go, Dad!” Jesse said impatiently.

“The plane will leave the airport at the scheduled time even if we’re early!”

“Whatever! Let’s GO!” he demanded.

“Hold your horses, Little Duck! We’re just making sure we have everything!”

“We’ll start getting the kids into the vans,” Kara said.

We had our minivan, and Kurt and Karl had come by with theirs. Amanda was coming along so she could drive our van back to the house. We’d considered our options, and short of a U-Haul, using three minivans was the optimal solution. We got everyone settled, and I got into driver’s seat of Kara’s minivan with Amanda in the passenger seat.

I rolled down the window, stuck my head and arm out and yelled, “Wagons ho!”

“What does that mean, Dad?” Jesse asked from the seat behind me.

“It’s something they used to say to get a wagon train to start moving. It’s a word used to get attention. Kind of like saying ‘pay attention, wagon drivers’. You could also say ‘Westward, ho!’ where it means the direction you’re going. You don’t watch cowboy movies or movies with stage coaches, so you probably never heard it. I bet Michael has, because he likes those Westerns.”

“Nicholas likes cowboy movies. He watches them with Tom. Aunt Bethany thinks they’re dumb!”

I chuckled, “I’m not surprised. Some of them can be pretty silly at times. But there are some really good Westerns, like High Noon, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Magnificent Seven, The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly, and The Outlaw Josey Wales. You should see if the video store has those. They’re really good.”

“Mom One said Clint Eastwood made some cowboy movies, but I like Dirty Harry!”

“Of COURSE you do! Did Mom Two give you permission to learn to shoot?”

“Yes. She wasn’t happy, but Mom One told her I should know how. She said you learned when you were six!”

“I did. I went to Camp Calamigos in Malibu, California. I learned to shoot a .22 bolt-action rifle and a .22 revolver. I also learned archery and horseback riding. Then later on, from age ten through fourteen, I went to Camp Marydale, in Erlanger, Kentucky. That’s where I first danced with Mom One!”

“Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!” Jesse sang.

“She was fourteen then. They played that song at the dance. Did Mom One tell you?”

“Yes. She said when they played ABBA you always thought about Birgit Andersson.”

“I’m named for her!” Birgit said proudly. “Daddy’s first girlfriend!”

“Daddy had girlfriends before her!” Jesse said. “Mom One told me. She wasn’t the first one he kissed!”

“Jesse...” I warned, but I was chuckling.

“I think I need to talk to Jennifer,” Amanda laughed. “This sounds like a VERY interesting story!”

“I don’t THINK so!” I laughed.

“Daddy?” Birgit asked.

“Yes, Pumpkin?”

“Jesse said we can see where Birgit is.”

“Yes. And I can tell you some things about her.”

“Not everything?”

“When you get older, Pumpkin, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

“About kissing?” Birgit giggled.

“Now I’m SURE I want to hear this story,” Amanda teased.

“You just stick to your Englishman! I bet he has some stories.”

“Yes, he does!”

When we arrived at the airport, it was ‘organized chaos’ as we got all the luggage out of the vans and onto the curb, triple-checked that I had the tickets and all the passports, as well as my wallet and traveler’s checks, and then thanked Amanda, Karl, and Kurt for their help. I worked with a SkyCap to get all of the luggage tagged for the SAS flight to Stockholm, and then we trooped into the terminal.

“Twelve for Stockholm,” I said to the agent at the check-in desk.

“«Herre gud»!,” she said sotto voce. (“Oh my God!”)

“«Skulle jag har sagt ‘tolv till flygget mot Stockholm’?»” I asked. (“Should I have said ‘twelve for the flight to Stockholm’?”)

“«Oj! Jag får be on ursäkt, Herr Adams.»” (“Oh! Please allow me to ask for forgiveness, Mr. Adams.”)

“«Det är OK! Jag vet att det är ovanlig att ha tolv tillsammans. Vi har mina barn och deras mammor.»” I said with a smirk. (“It’s OK. I know it’s uncommon to have twelve together. These are my kids and their moms.”)

Not quite accurate, as Jennifer wasn’t with us and Michelle was, but the agent didn’t know that and didn’t need to.

“«Vad då?»” she asked skeptically. (“What?”)

“«Det skulle ta för lång att förklara. Här är våra pass och biljetter.»” (“It would take too long to explain. Here are our passports and the tickets.”)

She efficiently checked the tickets and passports, issued twelve coach-class boarding passes, and wished us a safe journey. That task accomplished, the twelve of us headed to security, and after our carry-on bags were x-rayed and we walked through the metal detectors, we made our way to the departure gate.

“How are we sitting?” Michelle asked.

“Well, the 747 has 3-4-3 seating, and after talking over our options with Barney at the travel agency, I decided the best bet was four rows of three. One adult and two kids in three rows, and two adults and one kid in the fourth. But we can mix and match who sits where and when.”

“I’m sitting with Daddy!” Birgit declared.

“Dad, could Matthew, Michael, and I sit together?” Jesse asked.

“If you behave, yes. But that means being properly quiet and doing as you’re told.”

“Yes, Dad,” he said, as he and Matthew both rolled their eyes.

“They have that eye-roll perfected,” Elyse laughed. “Maybe they could go for a new Olympic sport? Synchronized Eye-Rolling?”

The adults all laughed and Jesse and Matthew just rolled their eyes again. They’d taken my ‘kids should run their own lives’ belief and implemented it fully and completely, and reminders to ‘behave’ were nearly always met with some sort of act signifying disdain for even the gentlest parental correction. That said, they were very well behaved and beyond that one encounter with Principal Monroe over Jesse talking about his home life, there hadn’t been any issues at school.

About twenty-five minutes after we arrived at the gate, they started boarding the flight. We took advantage of the ‘passengers with young children’ exception and managed to board the plane first, despite being in coach.

“I’m scared, Daddy,” Ashley said as I helped her buckle into her seat.

“Do you want me to sit with you, Cinderella? Birgit can sit with us too.”

“Yes!”

Which meant I’d be stuck in the dreaded middle seat for at least part of the flight, but with a little girl on either side of me, it wouldn’t be as bad as if I had two adults. As I took my seat, I shook my head at the expected result. Michelle and Elyse sat with Albert between them and Jessica and Kara sat side-by-side with Stephie in the aisle seat.

“Are you jealous, Daddy?” Birgit asked with a silly smile.

“Of your mommies sitting together? No. I was just laughing because they always do that when they can.”

“Because they love each other!”

“Yes, they do.”

About twenty minutes later, the doors were closed, the engines were started, the safety instructions were given, and the plane was pushed back from the gate. Ashley was shaking, so I took her little hand in mine and held it. Ashley had flown once before, when she was very little, and she obviously didn’t remember that trip to Texas to see her grandparents. Fortunately she calmed down once we had taken off and were at cruising altitude.

July 15, 1995, Stockholm, Sweden

“Passports, please!” the blue-clad immigration officer stated.

I handed over my passport, and Jesse handed over his. We’d decided to have each of the moms bring their kids through, and I’d take Jesse. I’d wait just past passport control in case there were any issues. The immigration officer thumbed through both passports.

“How long will you be staying?”

“Until the 17th when we leave for St. Petersburg, Russia.”

“Welcome back to Sweden Mr. Adams and Master Block!”

He stamped our passports and waved us through. We walked about ten feet from the desk and turned to watch while the rest of the family cleared immigration. There were no issues, and after we claimed our baggage, we walked through the ‘Green’ customs line and out into the arrivals hall where Karin and Kristian were waiting. After quick greetings and introductions, we moved out to the sidewalk where a large van sent by the Grand Hotel was waiting to take our luggage and some of us. The others would ride in either Karin and Kristian’s Volvo sedan or Lars’ Volvo wagon. It was nearly two hours later when we were finally settled into two large adjoining suites in the hotel.

“Pia and Marta are here with Pia’s boyfriend. Mikael, Katt, and Kristina will be in Stockholm in an hour, and Tina, Nils, and Anna will be here late this afternoon,” Karin said.

“And there’s a special visitor,” Kristian said. “Someone you met in London.”

“Lena is here?”

“Yes. She really wanted to meet your family, so she arranged to be here today and tomorrow. She’s staying with us. I’ll call her when we’re ready to go out.”

“What did you want to do for the afternoon?” Karin asked. “Will the kids need naps?”

“Most of them slept on the plane, so if we could get them outside, that would be great.”

“Let me call my parents and they’ll meet us at Skansen where we can have lunch and walk around. I’ll call Pia, too, and then I’ll leave word at reception here for the others to join us.”

“Sounds good to me. Kara? Jessica? Michelle? Elyse?”

They all agreed, so we gathered the kids and met Pia, Marta, and George in the lobby.

“Marta!” Jesse shouted as soon as he saw her.

They ran to each other and hugged, while Pia introduced George. He and I shook hands, and then Pia and I exchanged a hug. Jesse took Marta’s hand and they walked together, with Pia providing some translation as Marta tried to speak English to Jesse.

“I can’t read the signs,” Michael complained as we walked down the street.

“They’re in Swedish,” Karin said. “I know you’ve heard your dad and Sofia speak Swedish. We’re all speaking English so you can understand. But most people here will speak Swedish unless they know you don’t.”

“Daddy?” Birgit asked. “Where’s Kjell?”

“His grandmother will bring him to meet us,” Karin interjected.

We arrived at Skansen and walked to a small café to order lunch and wait for Lars, Annika, and Kjell, who arrived about ten minutes after we did. Birgit and Kjell hugged, as did Lena and I, and I introduced everyone.

“You’re married to THOSE TWO and STILL want other women?” Lena teased in Swedish.

“Of COURSE he does!” Pia and Karin said while laughing, also in Swedish. “It’s Steve!”

I simply smiled, then changed the subject.

“How did your case turn out?” I asked in Swedish.

“We won! The little girl is back with her mom where she belongs.”

“Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe all these kids are yours! Seven? That’s positively crazy!”

“Kind of dampens the ardor?” I asked with a grin.

“If you recall it was more the fact you were married than anything else.”

“I do remember. And believe it or not, the time we spent together was very helpful. I appreciated the company and the conversation.”

“And you don’t wonder...” she smirked.

“Always! But we shouldn’t act on every random desire we have.”

“True. That said, I do have to say, if you can satisfy these four women, AND Jesse’s mom, then perhaps my reasoning was off!”

I chuckled, “Let’s stay friends.”

She nodded and we switched back to English.

“What was that about, Tiger?” Jessica asked.

“Just talking about our time in London. She was wondering why I’d be interested in other women when I have you and Kara.”

“So THAT is why Pia and Karin were laughing!” Kara smirked. “Because they know you!”

“It seems my kids are following in my footsteps,” I said nodding towards Jesse, Marta, Birgit, and Kjell.

“And the others?” Karin smirked.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about Kristina and one of our boys just yet,” I chuckled. “She’s only two. Though Anna is what? Five I think.”

We finished our lunch and walked around Skansen, checking back at the café after an hour to find that Mikael, Katt, and Kristina had arrived. We greeted each other, and I got to hold Kristina. We walked for about another hour, before we headed back to the hotel to let the smallest kids nap before dinner. Tina, Nils, and Anna arrived just before dinner and came to the suite to see us. We talked for about thirty minutes before it was time to get the kids up from their naps and head to dinner at a restaurant which Lars Andersson had booked for the evening.

July 16, 1995, Stockholm, Sweden

“What are we doing today?” Michelle asked at a group breakfast on Sunday.

“After breakfast, we’re going to go visit Birgit Andersson’s grave. Birgit wants to go, and I make the visit every time I come to Stockholm.”

“I wonder if we could go to Puerto Rico to see Jorge,” Jessica said.

“We’d have to manage to do it without his mom finding out,” I said. “I suspect she’d do everything she could to block us. Obviously, she can’t keep us from Puerto Rico because it’s part of the US, but she probably could make things ugly there if she chose to.”

“What’s her problem?” Karin asked.

“She blames me for his death,” I sighed. “He was my close friend, and she feels that is what led to his death.”

“I could see it if she blamed me,” Jessica said, sounding sad. “Because he was in the car with me when we were hit by a drunk driver.”

“It was always about our lifestyle,” I said. “His mom is very much like my mom in that regard.”

“You Americans are far too prudish,” Kristian said, shaking his head. “Present company excepted, of course.”

“Of course!” I chuckled.

“Daddy, what does ‘prudish’ mean?” Birgit asked.

“It means ashamed or uncomfortable with sex or being naked.”

“Dumb!” Birgit giggled.

“One of Birgit’s favorite things to do when she was younger was ‘naked breakfast’,” Kara smirked.

“And her mom is just as bad!” Elyse said with a laugh. “But Steve has more or less beaten all the prudishness out of his friends and family!”

“Do you have any friends who won’t use the sauna naked?” Tina asked.

“The issue really is only kids and adults at the same time,” I said. “Though some of the kids’ friends aren’t allowed to be naked even if it’s all the same sex and just one adult of that sex.”

“Tiffany’s mom is dumb!” Birgit declared to gales of laughter from everyone at the table.

“I think it might be the boys who have to worry about your girls,” Kristian teased in Swedish. “Especially considering the Swedish girls he’s been with!”

As Karin and Lena both slugged his arm, Tina and Katt wadded up napkins and threw them at him, while I tried to stop laughing hard so I was able to translate for my wives and kids.

“And to think we called STEVE ‘«jävla idiot»’!” Katt said, shaking her head.

“You think Daddy is a ‘fucking idiot’?” Birgit asked, giggling hard.

“She knows that phrase?” Katt laughed.

“She does,” I grinned.

“Daddy, did you kiss all the girls?” Birgit giggled.

“Not Lena, but the other ones, yes!”

“I think I’m going to keep quiet,” Kristian laughed, rubbing his upper arms.

“Not a bad idea,” I chuckled. “The women are ALWAYS in charge!”

“Girls rule!” Birgit declared.

“Yeah, right,” Jesse groaned, rolling his eyes.

“He has a lot to learn,” Tina laughed. “About the time he turns fifteen?”

“Probably,” I chuckled.

When we finished breakfast, we made our way to the churchyard where Birgit was buried, stopping along the way at the same flower shop I always used. When we arrived, Karin and I walked ahead together so I could lay my flowers next to the headstone. We stood close to the grave with our arms around each other, with my daughter in my other arm.

“You loved her lots?” Birgit asked about the young woman she was named for.

“I did,” I said. “Very much.”

That was the easy answer, and for the moment, it would have to suffice. There would come a day when I would sit down with my daughter and tell her just how much the young woman she was named for had influenced my life; how she had set things in motion, and, through a long and winding path, had brought us all to this point - my daughter Birgit in left arm, my right arm around Karin, and standing before my first love’s grave.

The memories were there, as fresh as if they had occurred just the day before. There was, even still, a soft tug at my heart; a longing for what might have been. But there was also acceptance, born of seventeen years of my life which had passed, but for her, which had, at least from my perspective, stood still. I could only hope she knew the progress I’d made toward becoming the man she had hoped, or even known, I would become.

“That’s why he named you for her,” Karin said. “I loved her a lot, too.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Every day,” Karin said.

“So do I,” I said. “That why her picture is next to Jorge’s, Nick’s, and Stephie’s.”

“And Joseph’s great-grandfather?”

“Yes. And the small Buddhist shrine for Sensei Hiro. So we can always remember people we love who aren’t with us.”

“I don’t want you to die, Daddy!” Birgit declared.

“I know, Pumpkin, but, eventually, everyone dies. Sometimes they’re young, and sometimes they’re very old.”

“I want you to be really, really old!” she said firmly.

“Me, too, Pumpkin. Me, too.”

After about five minutes, Karin and I moved back to join the others, and a few minutes after that, we headed back towards the city center.

We spent the rest of the morning walking around Gamla Stan, and the afternoon at Gröna Lund. Dinner once again was at a restaurant which Lars arranged, and that evening, with the blessing of my wives and her husband, I spent some time with Katt.

“Your daughter is a real cutie,” I said. “I’m totally not surprised because she takes after her mom!”