"I just bought a car 30 minutes ago!" said Guðný. "Remember, like I told you?"
"Congratulations!" I said. "That calls for a high five," and we high-fived across the table, causing the coffee cups to jiggle and the coffee in them to go swish swish swish.
"Where'd you end up getting it?" I said.
"In town," she said. "Right here in Siglufjörður. We did it the easy way, you know? It belonged to a friend of ours who died a few days ago. No — not days — I mean weeks. He died a few weeks ago. Days would be strange. Anyway, his kids were going to sell the car, but then we said hey, you know, we need a car, maybe we could just buy it. And so we bought it. Just like that. It was so easy. I guess buying a car isn't usually so easy, but it was just so easy," and she looked over at Kristján, who was looking into his coffee.
"He was a very dear friend," she said. "I know he'd be happy for us to have it."
"Which one is it?" I said.
"It's the blue one over there by the boats," she said, turning around.
"Looks nice," I said.
"It's fine for us. It's 12 years old, so it's not the newest, but it's perfect for carrying things around, getting from here to there, which is really all we need it for, you know? The only thing is that he was a serious smoker, so it smells a bit."
Kristján looked up from his coffee and said, "That way you know his spirit is with you."
"Yes, I suppose that's right," said Guðný. "But we keep the windows open anyway."