At quarter past five Ove picked up Sonja in the school courtyard, hoisted her into the passenger seat and the wheelchair into the trunk.
By six o’clock they were at the kitchen table having their dinner, usually meat and potatoes and gravy. Ove’s favorite meal.
Then she solved crosswords with her legs drawn up beneath her on the sofa while Ove pottered about in the toolshed and watched the news.
At half past nine Ove carried her upstairs to the bedroom.
She nagged him for years about moving into the empty downstairs guest room, but Ove refused.
After a decade or so she realized that this was his way of showing her that he had no intention of giving up.
That God and the universe and all the other things would not be allowed to win. That the swine could go to hell. So she stopped nagging.
On Friday nights they sat up until half past ten watching television.
On Saturdays they had a late breakfast, sometimes as late as eight.
Then they went out to do their errands. The building supply store, furniture shop, and garden center.
Sonja would buy potting soil and Ove liked to look at tools.
They only had a small row house with a tiny outside space, yet there always seemed to be something to plant and something to build.
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