christening.”
“You don’t name your children for weeks?” Mary asks.
“Sometimes.”
She rolls her eyes.
John rifles through the box. “This stuff is cool. They must go to a lot of work to choose different clothes for so many newborns.”
“No,” I say. “Everybody gets the same package. They change the clothing styles every year or three.”
“So every kid in Finland wears the same clothes for their first year?” he asks.
“I don’t think they much care what they wear.”
“That sounds like something Chairman Mao would have thought of,” John says.
Mary nods agreement.
“It was only a few decades ago,” I say, “that this nation was impoverished. This kind of help saved people a lot of hardship.”
Mary sits back down, spoons ice cream, looks thoughtful. “Speaking of poverty and history, do you know that after the war, the United States gave Finland a great deal of aid under the Marshall Plan? I find it odd that Finland accepted U.S. aid but kept such close ties with the Soviet Union, our enemy.”
Kate smacks the table with the flat of her hand. “Now, wait just a minute,” she says.
I know Kate and her temper. Mary embarrassed her in front of my family. She just reached her limit.
I make a last effort at conciliation. “Mary is right in part. Finland was forced to decline Marshall Plan aid to avoid confrontation with the Soviets. The USSR had its own economic aid plan, called Comecon. However, Finland wasn’t included in it. We would have gotten nothing, but the U.S. government sent aid in secret. Clothes. Food. It saved lives. As an example of how desperate we were and how much it helped, after the war, my father and his brother shared a pair of shoes. They had to take turns going to school every day. U.S. aid helped us recover from that kind of poverty.”
My attempt at appeasement fails. Kate looks irked because I veered her away from a burst of anger she deserved to vent. Mary looks vindicated. “Thank you, Kari,” she says.
Jari looks vexed. Taina stares down into her ice cream bowl. Her face goes red. The boys don’t understand but poke each other and giggle. They know something is up. My migraine starts to whisper to me. I can’t think straight, want to bang my head off the table.
Taina overreacts, points her spoon at Mary like a weapon. “You come here and pass judgment on us. You live in a country that has never been invaded by a foreign nation, have never had your people’s blood spilled on your own soil. You make it clear that you think I’m immoral. I take it you’ve never been faced with the decision of whether to terminate your child’s life or bring it into a world of pain and horror, yet you dare judge me.”
Mary remains calm. “The Bible is clear in its message. And if you may recall, our country was subjected to a vicious attack. That day of infamy is called 9/11.”
“Nine-eleven was a single goddamned event,” Taina says. “How dare you compare an event with the prolonged devastation of a nation by war. Three thousand people died in 9/11, and that’s a tragedy, but your country used it as an excuse to colonize Iraq, a sovereign nation, when it was really about oil and money. Your country caused hundreds of thousands of Iraqi deaths out of greed. Your country sent thousands of its own children to their deaths in Iraq for the sake of the almighty dollar.”
“My country is the standard-bearer for the world…” Mary says and stops, I guess for once uncertain what to say.
Taina cuts her off. “And more is the fucking pity.” She switches to Finnish, tells Jari and the boys they’re leaving. Now.
Jari pulls me aside, tells me that Taina got so upset because the decision to terminate her pregnancy broke her heart. She never got over it, and Mary hurt her feelings. He tells me he’s sorry, that maybe we can get together again after John and Mary are gone. Within five minutes, they’re out the door.
Kate, John, Mary and I Sit in silence at the kitchen table. I can’t read Kate’s face. John is amused. His eyes dance. Mary glowers. The migraine booms.
John breaks the ice. “I think this calls for a drink.”
I tell him what he already knows. “The kossu is in the freezer.”
He brings the bottle and two glasses.
“Sure,” Mary says. “Start boozing. That’s what you two are good at.”
I pour us shots. We shoot them down, I pour us another round.
Kate says, “Kari, you don’t look well.”
Their voices reverberate like my head is in a steel drum. I’m afraid I’ll pass out again, as I did at Arvid’s. I need to take painkillers, but I don’t want to leave Kate alone to deal with this mess, even for a minute. “The headache,” I say. “I need to go to bed soon. Kate, will you come with me?”
Kate turns to Mary. “I’m proud of you and John. I wanted to show you off to Kari’s family. I had never met them before and wanted to make a good impression. You humiliated me. Why?”
“That wasn’t my intention,” Mary says. “You know my feelings about abortion, but I said nothing, even though I have a Christian duty to speak out.”
Kate glares at Mary and raises her voice. “You insulted nice people. You insinuated that Americans are somehow better than them.”
“I pointed out that America’s generosity helped make Finland what it is today. I see nothing wrong with that.” Mary points at me. “You let your family insult me and my country. That was wrong.”
Now it’s my fault. Un-fucking-believable. I consider how much shit I should eat to maintain good relations and keep the peace. I think about Kate and the stress this is causing her, and the possibility of losing our child. I would eat all the shit Mary can dish out, but Kate took a stand. I have to back her up.
“I understand that your religious beliefs are important to you,” I say, “but Jari and Taina came here in the spirit of family and friendship. You sent a clear message that their culture and beliefs are inferior to your own. And whatever your beliefs, Taina shared an intimate and doubtless painful experience with you. You did it without speaking, but you made your feelings about it clear enough. No matter what you believe, surely you can see that some lines shouldn’t be crossed.”
She folds her hands, prayer-style, and looks at me. “Kari, I’ll be frank. I don’t care for your drinking or swearing, and I hate it that my sister lives halfway across the world from her home because of you.”
She stupefies me. I can’t deal with her, because I don’t understand her. “What’s the matter with Finland?” I ask.
“You live in a nation where homosexual relationships and abortion are sanctioned by the government. This country lives contrary to God’s law.”
“But abortions are legal in the States, too. And some states ratify same-sex relationships.”
“Those are missteps on the path to righteousness and soon to be corrected. The Finnish people, however, live in sin.”
I shake my head in disbelief. She reminds me of Legion.
John smacks the table with his hand, just like Kate does when she’s furious. I picture him learning it from her when they were kids. “Goddamn it, Mary,” he says, “leave Kari alone. He’s a good guy.”
John seems to have depths that belie his outward veneer. He keeps surprising me. “Kari,” he says, “I’m sorry, but fuck this. It’s time we all start telling the truth around here.”
He’s going to tell Kate the truth about himself. I’m terrified. “Don’t, John,” I say.
I watch Kate’s face, but can’t read it. She presses a thoughtful finger to pursed lips. The migraine screams that stress will make Kate miscarry and it will kill her. All because I couldn’t keep her goddamned idiot brother under control. My vision blurs. My ears ring. My heart thumps in my chest so hard it hurts.
Thank God, John takes my meaning and relents. He gets up, puts on his jacket and boots. “I’m leaving now. I’ve got a date. Kari, thank you for dinner and all you’ve done for me. Mary, while we’re here, at least try to pretend you’re a decent human being.”
A date? He takes the spare keys from the nail beside the door and walks out.
Kate, Mary and I look at each other for a few seconds. Without speaking, Mary goes to the spare bedroom and shuts the door.
