The Simple Reality

Finders Keepers

Her hand pulled him up so he'd stand on his feet and he stayed silent and speechless that it made her worry. She watched his eyes roam freely to what she wore and he hadn't known exactly how to ask but she knew he was wondering of where it came from because as far as they were concerned they had nothing with them.

"It's not mine. I found it in the drawer upstairs," she giggled and smoothed the crochet white dress. "Probably forgotten, not complimentary..."

"It fits you like it's made for you," he added.

"Doesn't it?" Agnetha laughed.

"Let me guess. Finders keepers."

"Maybe." She shrugged shyly. "At least for today."

Agnetha had walked back around and she stepped onto where the open shore was. She looked back to find him watching her and wondered what she was up to, but her hand extended out and so he tucked the notebook he carried right under his arm and he walked with her. They'd spent a lot of time just walking and talking. He watched her bury her feet into the sand that felt like mud as the waves splashed in and it was like a thoughtful process as she talked with him. He did realize how she meant now, that it was quite different to be on an island where no one could find them. They were in open space and he found that contrary to any place else, she was free to be herself. She could hold his hand without thought, kiss him and sit with him without feeling the pressure that someone, somewhere might take that away.

And as he sat he pondered about when the last time they were on a beach like this was... well, it was like a memory locked up further than forty years. He was settled down, burying his toes in sand and she walked a bit more towards the water, soaking her bare feet.

He watched her pick up shells from the ground where she stood, knee deep in the water, and each one of those shells she lifted and analyzed was an interesting quality. Some had colors of tan and white, some she found were the color of stone. She decided she'd take a few interesting ones back home for the girls thinking maybe they'd even make necklaces of them.

Agnetha glanced over her shoulder and saw Björn scribbling a bit more in the notebook. She was curious. He didn't always let her read. And not that she always insisted, but she had her own curiosity and it grew more whenever he hid it from her. She walked back up to him, setting the stones and shells down to squeeze water from strings at the end of the dress.

"What are you writing today?"

"Good things," he smiled.

"Won't you ever tell me what you really write?" she asked him.

"Just stuff."

"I'm curious."

"Lyrics, ideas. Things."

"Mm," she hesitated briefly. "Well don't forget that I sing most of the lyrics you write. So you should share it with me." She reached for it, her eyes to him waiting for his approval and he didn't stop her this time. She carefully opened the recent page and found it was indeed lyrics he was writing this time. She asked about the tune and it took a minute for him to not laugh, but she was entirely serious.

Björn sat behind her, his legs on both sides of her and he held her, cradling and rocking. He hummed softly what he imagined based on the melody Benny and he had arranged. This would be the very first time it'd be sung now.

He was patient as she followed after him, trying to remember it. She paused in between and asked what it was again. He sang it for her and she sang after him and he was sure then the song was coming along.

"It's beautiful."

"Your voice will always have my heart. I was certain of it the day I first heard it." He kissed her temple, and held her tighter. "But actually this is for Frida."