Vivian sits down beside me, looking at her smartwatch. “So, it’s almost noon. What time are we meeting your family?”
“My sister Linnea is picking us up around three, so we have plenty of time to get ready.”
“What are your sisters like?” Vivian asks before humming happily as she takes another sip of her coffee.
“Linnea is twenty-one. She’s studying business administration at Hanken, the oldest business school in Finland. Elise is nineteen and a freshman at Minnesota. She’s the one that plays hockey like I do.”
She smiles amusedly. “Look at you, puffing out your chest like a proud papa.”
“I’m happy she’s following my footsteps as a hella strong center. That’s the position I play, too.”
“That’s sweet that you share your passion for hockey. So, you were eight when Linnea was born and then ten when Elise followed?”
“Yeah, I was a surprise baby. My parents were only crazy kids when they had me at twenty.” I laugh, thinking about how my parents had no idea how to raise a kid at first but still gave me a great childhood.
“I was the opposite. It took my parents nearly ten years before they had me.”
“You did mention them having you at an older age, but damn, that’s a long time to wait,” I empathize with her parents.
Vivian is about to reply when our conversation is cut short by the start of the Declaration of Christmas Peace program on the TV. I turn up the volume and glance over to Vivian, an apology on my lips. “I’m sorry you won’t understand anything other than the music, but this is a Finnish tradition.”
“Will you tell me what happened after?”
I nod, and we watch in silence as one of the city officials of Turku, the former capital of Finland, reads the parchment holding the Declaration of Christmas Peace both in Finnish and Swedish after some marching band music. When that’s done, they start the national anthem of Finland before the marching band performs the honorary march of the Finnish Defense Forces.
After the short program is done, I explain, “Okay, so, every year at noon on Christmas Eve, the Christmas Peace is declared from the city of Turku, which used to be our capital back in the day. The main idea of it is to remind people that Christmas Peace has begun and that we should all spend the festive period in harmony—no fighting or other negativity is allowed. And if we don’t celebrate peacefully, we’ll face harsh punishments based on our crimes.”
“And you watch it annually?”
“Yes. It kicks off my family’s Christmas celebrations. I can’t really remember all the details, but it has been done for hundreds of years.”
“And after you watch this, what do you do?”
“I’m sure my mom is serving the family her famous rice porridge.” My stomach growls at that thought.
“Is that what we have in that see-through container in the fridge?”
I jump up in excitement. “Holy shit, I forgot she made me some, and my sister left it here! There’s enough to share, so let me heat it quickly. Can you grab cinnamon, sugar, and milk?”
Vivian sets the table, and we get ready to eat once the rice porridge is warm. I hesitate before I serve it and ask, “Do you have any food allergies?”
“No allergies. Why?”
“If my mom prepared this the way she usually does, there’ll be a surprise.”
Her entire face lights up. “What kind of surprise?”
“If I tell you, then it won’t be a surprise. But it’s another tradition,” I explain, grinning.
Vivian narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “Okay then.”
I add cinnamon, sugar, and milk to my portion and take my first bite. I moan as the flavor hits my tongue, as I have always loved it. “So fucking good. I missed this.”
“I really like it, too,” Vivian says, adding cinnamon to hers after tasting the dish. “I love the cinnamon flavor, like in cinnamon gum and Red Hots, but I wanted to taste the rice porridge before covering it with all the toppings.”
“Smart move.”
We eat silently before Vivian takes another spoonful and chews before her eyes go round. And I know she found the surprise.
