The free will ( eng)

14. No more drama

After a bad nights sleep and breakfast in front of the computer with extra strong coffee I texted Olof I was leaving for my house. I collected my laundry and some food from the fridge. Calle was eager to get home. He loved both being in the city and being at the house. I think he was an action junkie just like me. After a few days at home he would be bored running around free among all the deers he hardly looked at. Any dog would at least have been interested. Not him. He was mostly just interested in me. Which made male dogs hate him and bitches love him. In that area we were alike. It pisses some people off. But the first days he enjoyed. Just like me. Lying in the sun or running around smelling every inch of pee the wild animals left, or searching for meatballs I threw out when I wanted to eat alone. He always got my last bites of waffles or sandwich, but was never allowed the drewl WHILE I was eating, unless we had dinner together in the sofa.

When we got home I always got overwhelmed with that special feeling of love for the area and my house as I walked up the hill the house was on. I made coffee and sat down on the porch to write a little, with a beautiful view of the garden and recreation area across the small road. I remember last summer when I hade been working as a convict to get it done. I also wrote on Facebook that I considered it. Many people agreed. It had been a blessing not to have to use your mind all the time and also all the drama with love. Miguel had helped me in the beginning of the summer, but after our break up on the ski-salsa, him spying on me outside the shop, the midsummer party, the sail-salsa (another man sat down next to me on the beach), I had hardly seen him. He was a vision . The man of my dreams. He looked like Rambo with his strip on the forehead , when he dragged the trees we had cut, just like Rambo, with naked big muscular chest and neck. They even had the same type of body, mouth, smile and brown eyes. Miguel's was bigger. With the gun he was irresistible, and very skilled. It made me think of a bodyguard in Latin America, one I had "dated" too, the summer before. We had met sometime after my break up with Rafael at Johnny's bar. He was a tall, dark, handsome and huge stranger, with long curly black hair. Looked like the average bodyguard in a Banderas movie. I asked him for a dance not even knowing if he was any good. He was the best... Had even been a teacher and owned a salsa club in London. On top of that he was nice, charming and seemed intelligent. We talked while dancing and after. He was very interested in my life, a big tell to know the good ones from the bad ones...

I told him about my house that I was trying to renovate on my own and had troubles with the electricity that was a mystery. He offered to come and help and cook dinner for me. How could a girl say no that? I didn't have an awful lot of people helping me. I did it myself or hired people to a high cost. I rarely asked for help either. Why should I? People would have to be blind, deaf or stupid if they didn't see I needed help. Help should come from the heart. When he came I gave him the gun. If he was a bodyguard he should shoot them all centered in the middle. He did, and was thrilled when I hit the tiny bull's eye from 25 metres. We had a blast, drinking wine, dancing and shooting on the big porch in the evening sun.

After that he turned to the kitchen with his lamb chops, risotto and garlic. Of course he had been a chef too, at his club. We had music in the kitchen also and it took a while to get dinner ready. Whenever there was a song I simply could not stand still to we had to dance. It reminded me of my happy times with Rafael, doing the exact same thing, cooking, dancing, drinking, shooting, talking, kissing... After dinner he looked at my electricity stuff and tried to find the wires. Richard had put them behind walls we could not see. I needed so badly to connect the new bathroom I had built almost myself, and to find the light switch for the old one. He had a house himself on La Isla Margarita where I was very welcome. For me it sounded like paradise and I was set on seeing him some cold winter day. He was only in Stockholm during the summer, working, and lived with his boss north from the ctiy. It took him several hours to come to me.