Learning To Love The Gray

“In Seattle, you learn to love the gray, for it makes the green all the more vibrant.” – Deb Caletti

Jane Foster never wanted to fall in love. Love was complicated; emotional. It took up too much time and energy, two things she was always in short supply of. Especially now that she was elbows deep in a doctorate program. At best, love was a problem for future-Jane. Future-Jane, after she graduated from the University of Washington as Dr. Jane and established herself in a prestigious position and bought herself a smart little condo that overlooked Elliot Bay…then, sure. Love could become a priority.

The only love she would indulge in outside of school was her love of hiking. An activity the sprawling Pacific Northwest was happy to accommodate. Jane was fond of the many, many trails and would escape to them when the world of astrophysics got a little too complicated. After that, she would settle into her favorite corner at the Union Street bar and sip a local craft beer.

One day though, after a meandering walk along the Cedar River Trail, Jane found a red Kanken backpack sitting in her spot. It had several keychains, and a few pins pushed into its face. The one that caught Jane’s eyes read ‘Vatnajökull National Park’ with an Icelandic flag.

“Told ya I saved us a good spot!” A boisterous laugh called over the din of the bar. Jane turned to see a burly man with a beard and two bright blue eyes looking right into hers.

“Fancy my bag?” He asked with a smile.

“I just saw that pin you have for Vatnajökull,” she smiled back, “I’m guessing you’ve been?”

“Twice, actually! And yourself?”

“No…,” Jane sighed, “it’s more of a bucket-list-type destination. Volcanoes, glaciers, waterfalls…”

“Hot springs,” the man made a wily arch of his eyebrow, “you’ve not lived until you’ve climbed buck naked into an Icelandic hot spring in the winter!”

“Naked?”

“How else would you do it?”

“In a bathing suit like a normal person!” A member of the man’s party came up behind him and slapped his shoulder.

“Are we not Vikings?” The man turned to his group; three very distinctly different men and a woman with raven black hair.

“Vikings suck! Go Seahawks!” A drunken patron at the bar shouted at them.

“What did he just say?” The woman turned back to the bar, squaring her shoulders.

“Easy Sif!” The bearded man gently guided her back to the group, “I told you, these yanks take their football very seriously.”

“Yes, go Seahawks!” Jane called back at the drunk, offering a thumbs up as a token of apology.

The man asked if she would like to join his merry group and Jane, suddenly desperate to learn more about his handsome Viking and his naked adventures, agreed.

He told her that his name was Thor and that he was from Norway; a beautiful country that had inspired his love of nature. He had avidly hiked all around Europe, taking on every trail Jane had dreamed of: Lac Blanc in France and the Pico Sobarcal Trail in the Spanish Pyrenees.

“So, what brings you stateside?”

“Family,” Thor told her as he placed a hand over his chest, “I have a bit of a soft spot for my baby brother. When my parents decided to move here four years ago, I could not stand the idea of being away from him.”

“Wow,” Jane whispered, “that’s a huge commitment.”

“It’s crazy is what it is,” the man Jane had come to know as Fandral piped up. “We’re going to try and convince him to come back to Bergen with us next week!”

At this, Thor had whipped out his phone. Something that seemed to annoy his entire friend group.

“Oh geeze, here he goes again!”

“How many pictures do you have on there, Thor?”

“I get it! Loki’s super adorable! But you can’t tell me you actually like living in the states!”

Thor was completely in the zone though. As he scrolled through his phone, the smile on his face grew wider and wider.

“Here!” He finally declared as he turned the phone around for Jane to observe. “This was him when we first moved here!”

Jane was hit with a warm and cold sensation. Warm from the precious image of a Little with wavy black hair and bright blue-green eyes that sparkled like sea. He was dressed in a sage romper and clenching a pacifier between his teeth as he smiled at the camera. His gangly arms held an empty box over his head; clearly the picture was taken a moment before the Little pulled it down on himself.

The cold? Thor’s little brother was a Little brother.

“His name’s Loki,” Thor sighed, “my mischief maker! You’ve never seen a Little who can cause so much trouble!”

Jane shot him a withering look.

“He looks pretty harmless.”

“See? That’s how he gets you!”

Thor showed her a few more pictures; ones from a day trip to the Bergen Zoo, another of him in a bucket swing at the park. Thor even dug back to a trip the whole family had made to Disney World the summer before last. Once Jane got over the shock of how beautiful and poised Thor’s mother looked among the throngs of tourists, she saw the Little Loki beside her in a stroller with a strange gold and mossy green tiara.

“What is that?” Jane asked.

“His Tiana tiara,” said Thor, “Have you ever seen ‘The Princess and the Frog’?”

“Like, the kids movie?” Jane asked incredulously, “No…can’t say I have.”

“It’s Loki’s absolute favorite; he still laughs and claps his hands every time Tiana turns into the frog.”

“And Tiana is the princess in question?”

“Yeah, here, actually,” Thor pulled up a video, “this is when he got to meet her at Magic Kingdom!”

Jane watched as the camera focused in on a young woman dressed in a gown of the same green and gold as Loki’s tiara.

“Tee-nah!” Loki came toddling into the frame and right into the princess’s gloved arms.

“He’s…tall,” Jane said with genuine shock.

“Oh, yeah, he’s about one-eighty centimeters; or, for you Yanks-”

“Six feet,” Jane smirked, “I’m a scientist, half my job involves measurement conversion.”

Seeing Loki in motion did tug at Jane’s heart strings. The way he laughed and gushed and cried ‘Tee-nah! Tee-nah!’ over and over for his favorite princess was just…cute. The princess herself (an absolute professional, in Jane’s opinion) engaged him with questions and graciously smiled for each babbling response.

“That was such a fun day,” Thor sighed as he put his phone away.

“Looks like it.”

After that, conversation wandered elsewhere. Another round of drinks were ordered; memories were made.

At the end of it, Thor told Jane he would like to see her again. And Jane said yes.

For their first three dates, Thor was the perfect gentlemen. He opened doors, pulled out chairs and ordered a bottle of wine without consulting Jane; all things the bright and independent woman usually loathed. But with Thor…it was (dare she say) kinda romantic.

At one point during their third date, while sitting side by side in a tiny sushi bar in Westlake, Jane laid out her fool-proof plan to become Doctor Jane Foster; professional astrophysicist.

“Astrophysics,” Thor said with an astonished gasp, “how did a bum like me end up with a girl like you?”

“You’re not a bum, being an electrician is a great job,” Jane rubbed his knee. “How’d you fall into that, anyway? Do you parents own a company or…?”

“Oh, no,” Thor shook his head, “my father’s in finance! As was his father and I assume his father before him. Sadly, I am the one to break the streak. I’ve never developed any interest. Or, really,” he tapped his head, “the smarts for it either.”

“Was he,” Jane briefly looked away, “I mean, I don’t want to pry, but how does your father feel about that?”

“Fine,” Thor shrugged, “honestly, Loki keeps my parents so busy, they hardly have time to worry about me!” There was no malice in Thor’s words. If anything, he seemed relieved at the idea. “I swear, if I decided to enroll into business school tomorrow neither of them would bat an eye!”

Loki.

The simple name haunted Jane. Someday she would have to meet him; the six-foot Little with sea-green eyes and jet-black hair. The way Thor talked about him, it was clear that Loki ran the household. Thor’s mother Frigga, an in-demand interior designer left her lucrative career to be a stay-at-home caregiver. Odin paid exorbitant amounts of money shipping hypoallergenic disposable diapers from Japan. Everything they did was for him.

Which made Jane wonder:

What if Loki doesn’t like me?

At night, Jane would scroll through Thor’s Instagram and live vicariously through the pictures he had posted of his adventures across Europe. Interspersed between mountain top vistas were pictures and reels of Little Loki.

The first reel she sat and watched through was of Loki’s first birthday with his new family back in Norway. He was in his highchair and wearing nothing but a diaper; Thor beside him, whispering something into his ear. Suddenly, Loki laughed, his eyes flashing with mischievous delight before smashing his hands into the cake. He then turned to Thor and mushed some of the frosting all over his brother’s face.

Jane smiled at the caption.

Never, never, ever did I think I could love someone as much as I love you. Happy birthday, baby brother! I am so lucky you came into my life! I cannot wait to celebrate a hundred more moments like this!

While in Florida, they had gone to the beach. There were dozens of pictures of Thor and Loki working on a sandcastle as well as a short reel of Loki kicking at the waves before running away with an exuberant screech. At the end, there was a photo of Thor cradling a passed-out Loki to his chest under an umbrella; a pacifier in the Little’s mouth and sunglasses over Thor’s eyes.

Best. Day. Ever. The caption read.

Loki was the center of Thor’s world. The whole reason Thor left the country – heck – the continent he loved so dearly. How could she even think to compete?

So, the question lingered…

What if Loki doesn’t like me?

What if he hates me?

School started in the fall and the weather turned grey. Trips out to the trails became less frequent, but dates with Thor were still multiplying.

“Mother would love for you to come to dinner. She and father have been dying to meet you.”

Jane gnawed nervously at her bottom lip before asking, “And what about Loki?”

Thor did not seem to pick up on her anxiety. He leaned back in his seat at the Union Street Bar and looked out into the bay. An amphibious tourist bus was driving into the water with much fanfare from the passengers.

“I don’t think Loki really understands,” he finally said with a small chuckle, “I’ve never, you know, brought a girl around him.”

“I’d be the first?” Jane asked, a doubtful arch in her eyebrow.

Thor smiled.

“I never met a girl worth showing off to him.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

Thor reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Jane’s ear.

“Should I bring him something?” She then asked.

“He loves sweets; cookies, cakes, candy, streusel.”

“Streusel?”

“Lingonberry, in particular. It’s been very hard to find here in the states.” Thor pouted his bottom lip, “Such a shame, it’s quite a lovely treat.”

Lingonberry streusel, Jane’s shining beacon of hope.

All she had to do was find it.

A short Google search informed Jane that a Scandinavian town called Poulsbo just across the Puget Sound. It was a quaint sort of place that held a yearly Viking Fest. It also hosted an abundance of B-and-B’s and bakeries. So, on the day Jane was expected to meet Thor’s parents, she filled the gas tank on her Subaru and hit the road.

Thor arrived at his parents an hour before Jane. His mother, Frigga had called that morning in a panic after her florist informed her that their delivery truck had a flat.

“Can you please pick up the order? I have so much to do here, and your father is in one of those virtual meetings– Loki!”

Thor stifled a laugh as he heard a clatter and his brother’s cheery voice.

“Mama! Look! Essa go bye’bye!”

“Please dear, can we not knock things off your highchair?” Frigga sighed, “I have to make him a new bottle now. He’s been in such a mood all morning…”

“It’s not a problem,” Thor assured, “what all am I getting?”

“One centerpiece and four bouquets – and do be gentle, there are oregonias, orange roses and gold cushion mums.”

“Consider it done!”

A sizeable box of flowers was not enough to deter Loki. The moment Thor was through the door of his parent’s home, the Little was clamoring for his attention.

“Tor! Tor, play!”

“Aye, brother! Let me put the box down. Mother will be quite heartbroken if one mum or rose or …whatever that other one was, gets bruised.”

“’Es pwetty?” Loki followed Thor like a shadow into the living room, “Pwetty fow’ers! Me! ‘Es mine!”

“No, I don’t think they’re for you…oof!” Thor set the box down on the coffee table. “Finally,” then opened his arms for his little brother, “come here, Loki!”

“Tor lub,” Loki cooed happily around his pacifier, pressing himself into Thor’s chest.

“I love you too.”  

Thor pulled away to find that, despite it being nearly five in the evening, Loki was still dressed in his green two-piece pajama set.

The Little’s pacifier suddenly dropped from his lips, saved only by the nylon cord pinned to his top.

“I potty!”

This caused a spontaneous laugh from Thor.

“You what?”

“I b’g boy! Go potty!”

“That’s right,” Odin, the proud father, sauntered into the room. “Loki told us twice today that he had to use the bathroom; not one accident.”

“Wow! Loki!” Thor pulled him into another hug. “Good job, brother! I’m so proud of you!”

“Yeah!” Loki let out a spritely laugh before toddling off.  “Stik’uh!”

“So, he’s back to potty training again?” Thor asked once he and Odin were alone.

The older man released the exasperated sigh of caregiver.

“This time, your mother decided to consult some caregiver forums for advice. We’d both always been skeptical about rewarding Loki for proper toileting. You know how he can be…”

“Sneaky, manipulative,” Thor began, “always looking for a way to get more.”

“Indeed,” Odin chuckled, “but my long-suffering wife thought we ought to give it a try. Sweets of any kind were clearly out of the question, but-”

“Stik’uh!” Loki came running back into the living room, now with Frigga following behind him.  

“Careful, my little treasure! You make your mother worry so!”

“Tor! See!” Loki was all happy chirps as he held out a booklet, “See? ‘Ann’ah stik’uh!”

“Let me take a look,” Thor accepted the booklet that was being awkwardly shoved into his chest. Inside was a series of identical pages, all with dates and times that indicated when Loki successfully utilized the toilet. Not every spot had a sticker; actually, very few did. Something that did not surprise Thor. Loki’s track record with potty training was spotty at best.

Nevertheless…

“Look at all these stickers! Awesome job, Loki!”  

“’N I gots s’tars! See?”

Thor heard his parents cry a harried mix of ‘No, no, no!’ and ‘Loki! Stop!’ But all of it was in vain. The Little had quickly pulled his pants down in order show off his padded underwear. “S’tars!”

Thor was roaring with laughter.

“Goodness,” Frigga began to pull Loki’s pants back up, “my silly boy! What am I going to do with you?”

“No, Mummy! Tor see! See m’s’tars?”

“Yes, I see them,” Thor assured, finally catching his breath, “now, let Mother help you.”

“If he has an accident, the little stars go away,” Odin explained. Then, with a wry smile from behind his beard, he said, “I hope you have sufficiently warned this young lady about your brother.”

“I’ve let her know he can be unpredictable…”

“That might be all you can do,” Frigga said, placing a kiss on Loki’s cheek.

“Mummy,” the Little cooed.

“Well now, the hour’s almost here,” Thor put his hands on his hips. “Brother, are you planning to wear your jammies to meet my new friend?”

“Yeah!”

“We had a cute little outfit all picked out, but,” Frigga made a slight shrug.

“Aye, no stuffy sailor suit for you?” Thor winked a Loki. The Little stuck out his tongue in response. “Honestly, I don’t think Jane will mind.”

“Tor puz-zah?” Loki asked suddenly, “Tor play?”

“Oh, you have a new puzzle?” Loki began to tug at his brother’s arm, “I guess I have to look at it!”

“Puz-zah!”

“Loki, would you like to tell Thor what’s on your puzzle?” Frigga asked in her most motherly voice.

“Traine ‘n moos!”

“Cows,” Odin corrected. “Loki, can you say cows? Co-o-ows?”

Loki stopped and looked at his father with seriously furrowed brows.

“Moos.”