Ove rivets his eyes into her. Parvaneh is still agape. Ove points imperiously at the pedals under her feet. “I’m not asking for brain surgery.
I’m asking you to drive a car. It’s got an accelerator, a brake, and a clutch.
Some of the greatest twits in world history have sorted out how it works. And you will as well.”
And then he utters seven words, which Parvaneh will always remember as the loveliest compliment he’ll ever give her.
“Because you are not a complete twit.” Parvaneh pushes a ringlet of hair out of her face, sticky with tears.
Clumsily she once again grabs hold of the steering wheel with both hands. Ove nods, puts on his safety belt, and makes himself comfortable.
“Now, push the clutch down and do what I say.” And that afternoon Parvaneh learns to drive.
A MAN WHO WAS OVE AND A MAN WHO WAS RUNE
Sonja used to say that Ove was “unforgiving.” For instance, he refused to go back to the local bakery
eight years after they gave him the wrong change when he bought pastries once at the end of the 1990s.
Ove called it “having firm principles.” They were never quite in agreement when it came to words and their meanings.
He knows that she is disappointed that he and Rune could not keep the peace.
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