“And Elsa told me it was an easy language, but you know and I know that’s simply not true. Which leads to the horrible question: Have I—finally—caught my wife in a lie?”

Elsa smiled, meeting my eye, and I was sorry I had doubted her.

I looked around at her friends. Such warmth. Such kindness. “Thank you for listening, you beautiful people. I’m Cal Curtis, and I used to be a lot funnier.”

Elsa was on her feet beside me, eyes sparkling. We toasted the brightness of the summer day, and the resilience of the Norwegian people. All the while I watched Elsa, thinking how happy she looked.

I love you, I mouthed.

“No, Cal, I love you,” she said, loud enough for people to hear. “You strange, sentimental fuck.”

I had a bad feeling about taking her home to America, a sense that it would do her some quiet violence, that at some level Hedda was right, that we should stay. But for the sake of our children . . .

Vee sat in a quiet corner of the bar, laptop plugged in, headset on, lounging in her chair. On her screen an avatar, a slim white girl in a tight T-shirt, short black hair covered in a blue beanie hat, staring out. Lasser8. Another avatar appeared beside the first, dark-skinned and muscular. Marldathug.

“A week from Tuesday,” she was saying. “So maybe, I don’t know, like a pizza or something? Good to go here, by the way . . .”

“You all right, Vee?”

“Wait a second . . .” She smiled, lifted the earpad from her right ear.

“I was asking if you were okay.”

“Dad, can I go out for pizza Tuesday when we get back?”

“Who with?”

“Marlon. A couple of Marlon’s friends.”

“Sure, love. Sounds like a good idea.”

“Thanks.” She replaced her headset over her right ear and picked up her control. “Good for Tuesday. And we are . . . go . . .”

On-screen her avatar was skydiving toward an island. “Marlon, low building top right.” Below, other avatars were landing, picking up weapons, disappearing from sight.

I stood watching her face, looking for some sign of trauma.

She noticed me staring. “I’m really okay. You should go be with Mum.”

Her avatar landed on a roof, picked up a rifle, ran to the edge of the roof, and began to shoot.

For a while the euphoria carried us along. We drank white wine and ate crab from steel platters, half dazzled by the sun on the fjord.

Only Jo kept checking his phone.

I leaned forward. “Everything okay with Edvard?”

“Am I being that obvious?”

“Come and talk.”

The bar was fuggy with the heat of the afternoon. Fruit flies flew lazy loops above the beer taps. In the corner, Vee seemed lost in the world of her screen. She was talking easily to Marlon. Excited about going home.