Many years later it occurred to Sonja to ask him about all that. When Ove at last told her, she shook her head both long and hard.
“So while I was sleeping you sneaked out and helped people in need... and mended their fences?
People can say whatever they like about you, Ove. But you’re the strangest superhero I ever heard about.”
On the bus on the way home from Spain she put Ove’s hand on her belly and he felt the child kicking—faintly,
as if someone had prodded the palm of his hand through a very thick oven mitt.
They sat there for several hours feeling the little bumps.
Ove didn’t say anything but Sonja saw the way he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand
when he rose from his seat and mumbled something about needing the bathroom.
It was the happiest week of Ove’s life. It was destined to be followed by the very unhappiest.
A MAN CALLED OVE AND SOMEONE IN A GARAGE
Ove and the cat sit in silence in the Saab outside the hospital. “Stop looking at me as if this is my fault,” says Ove to the cat.
The cat looks back at him as if it isn’t angry but disappointed. It wasn’t really the plan that he would be sitting outside this hospital again.
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