Home is Wherever I’m With You
“Oh my gosh, and then this was when we went into Norway, actually!” Steve said excitedly, as he flipped the photo album. It was his and Denise’s honeymoon album that Maren had asked to see.
It was a few weeks after Fran had the “Big Talk” (as they had come to call it) with her aunts, and the two were back down in Manchester to visit for Jamie’s birthday. Neither had been sure exactly what to expect, but the moment that they opened the door they were both being pulled into hugs, welcomed into the party and brought into the swing of things.
Alice and Maren had ended up talking for hours on the porch, Alice telling Maren all about Denise and Fran when she was a baby. Maren absolutely adored it, always loved getting to hear stories about a young Fran.
The brunette had been alarmed for a moment when she realized that Maren had disappeared from the party only for her to nearly cry when she finally realized where she actually was.
The two had ended up staying the night at Fran’s fathers house, and decided to spend one more day in Manchester before driving back. They had gotten up that morning and gone to brunch with the whole family, and it might have just been brunch but Fran had made sure to flag everyone down and get a picture of them all sitting at the table together. Her smile and happiness was absolutely infectious, and it made the whole affair ten times better than any of them expected it to go.
Somehow, the awkwardness and discomfort that Fran expected just never occurred, at least not yet, and she relished in it. After brunch, they had gone to the park to train for a few hours before they came home and washed off, and Fran announced that her and Jamie were going to cook dinner (much to her brothers chagrin), leaving Maren and her father alone in the living room as they disappeared off into the kitchen.
Maren had tentatively asked Steve to see some old family photos, and he had been more than happy to pull out the old photo albums, asking how far back he should go. Maren had simply said from the beginning, as if it was the easiest answer in the world.
“Where in Norway?” Maren asked as he flipped the page again, looking at the beautiful scenery that Steve had photographed. Maren hadn’t realized that Steve had such an eye for nature, and Norway certainly wasn’t missing any of its natural beauty in these photographs.
“We started in Oslo, and then this is Vossevangen,” Steve said diplomatically, and Maren smiled, looking up at Steve with excitement in her eyes.
“No way! My aunt and uncle lived in Vossevangen for years - they were probably there while you guys visited,” Maren said with joy, and Steve smiled widely back at her, and the two talked about the town back and forth as Steve slowly flipped through the book. Maren got caught up in a story that Steve was telling about Denise’s inability to learn any Norwegian, nearly crying she laughed so hard as she wiped at her eyes.
Maren looked back down at the photo album just as Steve flipped the page again, revealing a new set of photographs set in a glossy paper.
But this time, Maren’s heart flew to her throat.
No.
No.
It couldn’t be.
There was no way.
Steve moved to turn the page, but Maren reached out and stopped him, her hand coming to cover his arm, her fingers gripping into his forearm for just a moment, unable to help herself. She needs something to hold onto, or else this moment might not be real.
Her heart stopped. Her mind stopped. The blood stopped pumping through her body. Everything stopped. For a moment, it felt like the world stopped. It was just her and the picture on the page, and everything else apart from them melted away. Because there was simply no way on earth that this was real.
On the page was a picture of Denise and Steve seated at a table, each with a child on their lap. Steve had a boy, maybe four years old, while Denise was holding a little girl who looked to be about two, wearing little jean overalls with a big, toothy grin on her face.
Despite the way that Maren stopped him from turning the page, Steve doesn’t quite seem to realize the reaction coming from Maren as he begins speaking.
“Oh this was this lovely little restaurant we went to,” Steve starts. “The couple was so nice, they had two young kids, didn't really speak too much English, but they were so lovely. We had the best meal, and the kids were just so adorable. Denise and the little girl they had were just attached at the hip for all of dinner and the little girl just didn’t want her to leave. Never got their names though…” Steve trails off when he looks up at Maren, who has a hand covering her mouth and tears gathering in her eyes.
“What–what’s wrong?” Steve asked in concern, his voice low as he leaned in toward Maren with his eyebrows furrowed in worry. Fran and Jamie were still in the kitchen, and they could both hear Jamie’s laugh in the distance, the sounds of a meal being cooked and people moving around a kitchen. He was entirely focused on Maren though, who seemed incredibly emotional for just a simple picture from his and his late wife’s honeymoon.
Maren cleared her throat gently, blinked back some of the tears. Her hand let go of Steve's arm, traced gently over the paper of the photo album divider, her fingertips brushing over Denise and the girl seated on her lap. Maren couldn’t help but want to cry even more by how happy everyone in the photo looks, all smiling genuinely at the camera.
“My aunt and uncle ran a restaurant in Vossevangen, or they did, for many years,” Maren started, her voice soft. She is trying with everything in her to keep her voice even and quiet, even as wave after wave of heavy emotions come crashing down over her heart.
“They ran this restaurant.” Maren explained slowly, her fingers brushing over the background of the photo, the walls of the restaurant and the tables in the background. It was a bright place with cheerful decor, and everything about it reminds Maren of home so deeply.
“And every once in a while when I was young, my parents would have to leave for business or something or the other, and they always left my brother and me with my aunt and uncle.” Maren continued, and Steve felt his heart skip a beat, because there was no way the words that were about to come out of Maren’s mouth were true. There was no way they were headed where it seemed that Maren was leading them.
“That’s me.” Maren breathed out, pointing directly at the child on Denise’s lap. Steve’s hand flies to his mouth as a strangled breath leaves his lips. To prove her point, Maren pulls out her phone, scrolling to the old photos album she has and pulling up an old photo of her as a two year old with her brother.
She sets her phone down next to the picture, and sure enough, a dead ringer, the two match. She’s staring at the two photos through blurry, teary eyes, and her chest is heaving up and down roughly as she tries to keep herself together.
“You met Denise,” Steve murmurs softly, and Maren nods as the first tear finally leaves her eyes at the confirmation in Steve’s words.
“Oh my god, you met Denise,” Steve repeated, alternating between looking at the photo and looking at Maren, who now has tears streaming down her face. “And she loved you. You talked to her in baby Norwegian the whole meal and oh my god, she gave you a hug when we left.” And Maren lets out a tiny sob at that, her hand coming to cover her mouth to keep herself quiet. Steve is looking at her with a shocked kind of wonder. And he probably should be, because this is one in a million.
Steve leans forward after a few moments, wrapping Maren in his arms, as hers come out to clutch at his back.
They stay like that for just a moment, the moment sinking in to both of them before they lean back, and Maren desperately tries to wipe at the tears streaming down her face to no avail. For a minute they both just stare at each other in disbelief, disbelief at the fact that this is happening, that this is real, that this is something that could ever happen.
“I…I need to show Fran,” Maren says breathlessly, and Steve nods immediately, leaning forward to carefully pull the photo from the page divider, offering it out to Maren.
The Norwegian takes it gently, taking it with shaking hands and holding it as if it’s her most precious possession. Honestly, at this point it probably is. In her heart, this picture might as well be worth a million dollars. She walks slowly toward the kitchen, turning the corner and into the view of Fran and Jamie, who are just washing their hands, having finished putting the salmon in the oven.
“Hey Mar–Maren, why are you crying? Is everything okay?” Fran says frantically, looking between her partner and father, who are both crying. Maren is carrying a picture in her hands, and the brunette moves toward her after she dries her hands, incredibly confused as to what is going on and where these sudden tears are coming from.
“Um…your parents went to Norway for their honeymoon,” Maren replies calmly, not answering Fran’s question.
“Yeah, to Oslo right?” Fran questions, raising an eyebrow. The brunette is really lost on why this has anything to do with Maren crying, but she entertains her nonetheless.
“Yes, and Vossevangen…” Steve starts, looking over at Maren. He had come in behind Maren, and stood just a few paces behind her, over by the dining room table.
“Where my aunt and uncle live, and run a restaurant. And when I was little, sometimes they would watch me and my brother and we would help them with restaurant stuff and pester guests when they weren’t too busy to watch us and make sure we behaved.” Maren continues, looking back at Steve for a moment, finding strength in the calm composure that he carries himself with.
“And we went to a restaurant in Vossevangen, and we met the most lovely couple and their two young children that we both just absolutely loved. The little girl and your mom were just like this,” Steve explains, crossing his fingers together, and Fran is pretty sure she’s starting to piece together what’s going on, but she genuinely can’t believe that this could possibly be real.
“No,” she says, stepping back with a hand over her chest.
But Maren just nods, stepping forward to her and placing the picture on the counter, flipping it so that it faces Fran.
Fran looks over it, and there it is.
She would recognize baby Maren anywhere, the chubby little cheeks and her adorable pigtails. Right there, on her mothers lap.
“No, no, no, no” Fran repeats over and over again, even as she picks the photo up delicately, bringing it right in front of her face.
But the evidence is right there.
“She met you,” Fran breathes out, and looks up to see tears streaming down Maren’s face as she nods. They’re both looking at each other, at the tears streaming down the other’s face, unable to move or say anything or do anything.
“Her and your mom clicked the moment they met,” Steve says softly from his spot across the room. Fran knows that she should look over at him, but she can’t stop staring at Maren, at the way fat, bumblebee tears are streaming down her face. But there’s a little smile on her face like she can’t quite believe it, and Fran is trying with reckless abandon to keep her composure together.
“They hugged when we left the restaurant,” Steve finally chokes out, and Fran finally cracks, a sob wrenching itself out of her chest as she places the picture on the counter, her hand clutching at her chest.
“She met you, oh my god, she met you.” Fran sobs, and Maren can only nod insistently as she steps forward, wrapping her arms around Fran. And for a moment, it’s just the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms.
And somewhere inside her, a small piece of Fran’s heart, that she never thought could possibly heal, sewed itself shut kindly. A promise of a past that meant so absolute much to the future.
—
“I’m sure most of you here know that my mother passed away when I was only fourteen. I don’t speak about her a lot, but I’ve decided I’m going to today. I really want to. ”
“I loved my mother deeply, and she remains a person who will forever inspire me with her kindness and strength. But I was quite young when she died, and as the years passed on, I’ll be honest I kind of started to forget things about her. I know that’s something that a lot of people have experienced, but I also know that anyone who has gone through that can tell you how heart wrenching and upsetting it is. You want to keep that person with you forever, but you can’t, because they’re gone.”
“And so I started to forget the exact way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, or her laugh, or the scent of the perfume she always wore, and it all started to go away. And I made my peace with it, that I would never experience that again, because she’s gone. She’ll never be here again to rekindle those memories.”
“But I remember the first time I ever met Maren, and she turned and looked at me and smiled and everything about it was my mother. Maybe not in the way that it looked or was and I…I can’t really explain it, it was just so my mom. I was just entirely blindsided, and so incredibly caught off guard that I stumbled our way through our first introduction, probably looked like a bit of an idiot, but Maren being the sweet soul she is never held it against me.”
“Maren is one of the most compassionate, gentle, loving human beings I have ever met. And I see so much of my mom, Denise, in her.”
“I would often get sad about the fact that my mother could never meet Maren. If there was one thing I would want her to see, aside from maybe me holding a World Cup Trophy, it would be for her to meet the love of my life.”
“But sometimes luck comes to the people who never expected to get it, because we found out a little over a year ago that when Maren was a baby, and my parents were on their honeymoon, they met. They even got a picture together, my mom holding Maren with just the widest matching smiles on their faces. They loved each other apparently, and Maren gave my mom the biggest hug when she left her aunt and uncle's restaurant.”
“I’ve worked hard for so many things in my life, but meeting Maren? I truly believe that is the luckiest thing that will ever happen to me. Loving, and being loved by this astonishingly phenomenal, special, warmhearted person is the luckiest thing that has ever happened to me. I’m not a person who really believes in fate or destiny, or God, but I truly believe that somewhere, someone out there knew that I needed Maren in my life. Maybe even that my mother knew that I needed Maren in my life.”
“Football, everything about the career is temporary. But this? Us? This, what you and I have, Maren…this is forever. And I couldn’t be more endlessly grateful to spend it with someone as gentle and empathetic and truly special as you. Everytime you walk into a room, everyone's faces light up, and still you look for mine first, and I genuinely don’t know what I did to earn that. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but one thing that I do know is that I would do it all over again, every hard thing and horrible setback, if it meant I got to be here with you, right here and right now. Thank you for making me a better person, thank you for keeping me positive, thank you for always elevating me and inspiring me to be better. Thank you for loving me in a way I didn’t ever think I deserved to be loved in.”
“If there is one thing I can promise you, it’s that I don’t know what our future will hold, but I promise to love you, today and every day forth, with my whole entire heart. Du og jeg for alltid.”