Read Online A Neverending Affair by Kopen Hagen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kopen Hagen
Ads: Link
was not really true that she was thin, but Olaf thought most women wanted to hear that they are thin even if it is not true.
She froze . “Olaf, please don’t do that. I know who I am. I know how I look. I know I’m not thin. I also know that I’m not really fat. I’m quite close to what would have been ideal seventy years ago, which means I am fifteen kilos too heavy for today’s standard. But I tell you what, I don’t care at all about that. And I don’t want you saying things to keep me happy when they are not true.”
She sat silent for a while and then corrected herself . “I don’t care too much about it is perhaps more correct. The truth is that the constant flow of impressions from billboards, news and media in general is so forceful that even stubborn feminist revolutionaries like me are affected by the views of how a woman should look.”
“Sorry , Ronia. You know we Nordic people are always said to be a bit rude, not sophisticated enough, and our gender equality obsession means that we treat everybody the same. We don’t open doors for women, we don’t pull out their chairs, and we don’t flatter them. I guess I just tried to be a bit chivalric. Knowing your French heritage, I assumed you would expect that. But you come out as a real Norse Amazon.”
“By the way, I certainly know where Chechnya is ,” Ronia told him, changing the subject. “Mind you, it is not far from Armenia as things are. And I do live in France, but I am half Armenian, a quarter French and a quarter Dutch Jew.” She added some detail about her mother and father’s descent.
They discussed the day. He suggested that they would walk to the Centre , and she agreed. During the walk, he recounted a story about his recent sales to a Swedish hotel and she told him about her latest painting. He asked if she would mind sharing dinner with him that night. She agreed.
“What time ?” he asked. “Is six fine?”
“Can we say six thirty ?”
“OK, deal. See you in reception then .”
The day passed with the normal deliberations of a serious meeting. They developed an action plan for the project for the coming two years. It was agreed that both Ronia and Olaf would participate in the next major event, which was the FairArtFair at the Gent art and handicraft fair in September.
Ronia w as at the reception desk at six-thirty. Olaf was not there. He arrived fifteen minutes late. Ronia looked cross and said, “I thought you Swedes were punctual?”
“Hm, mostly we are, but I might not be an average Swede. I had to speak with my wife about an upcoming event.” He immediately wondered why he had chosen that language, “had to speak…” as if he hadn’t chosen it. He was the one calling her. He didn’t admit it to himself, but the reason he called now was that he could truthfully say that he was in the hotel, that he was alone and that he planned to go out for a bite. He wouldn’t like Liv to call him after returning from dinner with Ronia and ask what he had eaten and with whom. It was not like Liv was jealous. It was more that she wanted to know everything, part of her need to be in control, he guessed.
He himself could be fiercely jealous sometimes. But it happened mostly when they were together and he saw the looks of other men. Strangely , he trusted her more when she was on her own. Partly it had to do with her very composed and controlled self. Remembering how rationally she had approached him and their relationship, as well as her super rational attitude towards children, he could not imagine her running off with another guy out of passion.
For Olaf, the real threat would be if she found another man that could match her professionally and be attractive and secure enough. Ultimately, Olaf was quite confident that Liv needed his more emotional and spontaneous wa y as a counterweight to her own sober and somber self. She might not fully realize that herself. When they were together with others, for some
She froze . “Olaf, please don’t do that. I know who I am. I know how I look. I know I’m not thin. I also know that I’m not really fat. I’m quite close to what would have been ideal seventy years ago, which means I am fifteen kilos too heavy for today’s standard. But I tell you what, I don’t care at all about that. And I don’t want you saying things to keep me happy when they are not true.”
She sat silent for a while and then corrected herself . “I don’t care too much about it is perhaps more correct. The truth is that the constant flow of impressions from billboards, news and media in general is so forceful that even stubborn feminist revolutionaries like me are affected by the views of how a woman should look.”
“Sorry , Ronia. You know we Nordic people are always said to be a bit rude, not sophisticated enough, and our gender equality obsession means that we treat everybody the same. We don’t open doors for women, we don’t pull out their chairs, and we don’t flatter them. I guess I just tried to be a bit chivalric. Knowing your French heritage, I assumed you would expect that. But you come out as a real Norse Amazon.”
“By the way, I certainly know where Chechnya is ,” Ronia told him, changing the subject. “Mind you, it is not far from Armenia as things are. And I do live in France, but I am half Armenian, a quarter French and a quarter Dutch Jew.” She added some detail about her mother and father’s descent.
They discussed the day. He suggested that they would walk to the Centre , and she agreed. During the walk, he recounted a story about his recent sales to a Swedish hotel and she told him about her latest painting. He asked if she would mind sharing dinner with him that night. She agreed.
“What time ?” he asked. “Is six fine?”
“Can we say six thirty ?”
“OK, deal. See you in reception then .”
The day passed with the normal deliberations of a serious meeting. They developed an action plan for the project for the coming two years. It was agreed that both Ronia and Olaf would participate in the next major event, which was the FairArtFair at the Gent art and handicraft fair in September.
Ronia w as at the reception desk at six-thirty. Olaf was not there. He arrived fifteen minutes late. Ronia looked cross and said, “I thought you Swedes were punctual?”
“Hm, mostly we are, but I might not be an average Swede. I had to speak with my wife about an upcoming event.” He immediately wondered why he had chosen that language, “had to speak…” as if he hadn’t chosen it. He was the one calling her. He didn’t admit it to himself, but the reason he called now was that he could truthfully say that he was in the hotel, that he was alone and that he planned to go out for a bite. He wouldn’t like Liv to call him after returning from dinner with Ronia and ask what he had eaten and with whom. It was not like Liv was jealous. It was more that she wanted to know everything, part of her need to be in control, he guessed.
He himself could be fiercely jealous sometimes. But it happened mostly when they were together and he saw the looks of other men. Strangely , he trusted her more when she was on her own. Partly it had to do with her very composed and controlled self. Remembering how rationally she had approached him and their relationship, as well as her super rational attitude towards children, he could not imagine her running off with another guy out of passion.
For Olaf, the real threat would be if she found another man that could match her professionally and be attractive and secure enough. Ultimately, Olaf was quite confident that Liv needed his more emotional and spontaneous wa y as a counterweight to her own sober and somber self. She might not fully realize that herself. When they were together with others, for some
Similar Books
