“Calm down, all of you.” I’m so glad Erik can’t hear or understand this conversation...
But wait, what if he speaks Portuguese? Or some Spanish? He’s been to South America. He might have lived in Portugal. I must watch what I say.
“I knew she would find someone quickly! With those big dark eyes and that smooth olive skin of hers...” Edna says to Regina, another customer I know, as if I’m not hearing. “Not to mention the beautiful ombré you gave her, Flor,” Edna says to my favorite hairdresser.
“Thank you, Edna! It indeed looks lovely on her!”
“Girls, I am NOT dating him, okay? I needed a place urgently, and a guy was renting out his spare room, and that’s it!”
“I believe her,” Mariana says. “I helped Sol look for apartments in Copenhagen online when she was here, and we couldn’t find anything.”
“Precisely,” I say, glad for the support. “Thank you, Mari.”
“What’s he like? Show us a picture!”
“Is he there with you?”
“Erik... I like that name.”
I lose track of who is speaking. Too many women at the same time. I answer, just so they can let me go find my bed. Erik will get annoyed if I don’t focus on it soon.
“Yes, he came to help me buy a bed.”
“I want to see him!”
Erik is right ahead of me, about four steps away as we walk along the aisle. I flip the camera so they can quickly see his back.
But that is, of course, a mistake.
They can spot an attractive man miles away.
I should have noticed that his muscles are quite prominent even in a sweater.
“Oh my God, he’s so sexy!” Luana squeals.
“Let me see, let me see!” Bruna moves closer to the camera, but they are all fighting to have their noses on the screen.
“You are living with this man, Sol?” my mom reacts, and her tone announces her conflicting emotions. She wants her daughter to find a handsome man capable of producing beautiful grandchildren for her, but she fears losing me to a guy who lives on the other side of the planet.
“I love a man bun!” Mariana says when she sees Erik’s long hair, now with only the upper half twisted up in a knot.
“Oh, what hair! It’s gorgeous! Look at all the tones of blond,” Flor comments dreamily.
“I want that color!” Regina says, pulling the phone toward her. My mom takes control of it again and walks from woman to woman so they can all see Erik closely.
“His hair is natural,” Luana’s voice says. “You can never copy it perfectly.”
“Sol, is he your boyfriend?” my mom is asking. Not severe, just serious. She wants the truth.
I’m controlling myself, not wanting to shout or end the call without another word. As annoying and intrusive as they might be sometimes, they all love me and mean well. Besides, I’ve learned to tackle things with humor. To tease and be teased.
“No, he is not, and I mean it,” I say firmly, but with a suggestive smile. They laugh and I laugh back, reassuring them that I am not lying.
“Hey, Sol, what about this one?” Erik turns his head, and they get a glimpse of his face—and all the beard. I lower the camera a bit, afraid he will realize I’m filming him.
“Well, that’s it, girls. I have to buy a bed now.”
“So, you don’t sleep in his. Hmmm...”
“Don’t buy one! Share one with this Greek god...”
“Norse god.”
“He looks just like Thor!”
“See you, girls!” And I end the call.
Phew.
I focus. Or try to. It’s hard when, in my head, I can still hear an entourage of squealing women telling me how hot my roommate is.
He’s not my type though. I want a Prince Charming—someone sweet, romantic, stable—not a Viking. They are wild, rough, aggressive, and likely to run off on a whim to fight a battle. They aren’t family men. With them, it’s all about the fun, and they won’t hesitate to use their seduction skills to get what they want. So, yeah, I keep Vikings away from my bed.
But can he keep me away from his?
I repress this weird thought and concentrate on the bed. Yes. The bed. A good bed to sleep in. Alone. All by myself.
We find a suitable one. A queen because I’m spacious. And I don’t intend on being all by myself for all my years in Denmark.
