Daughters (Nordic Fairies, #4) (3 page)

Svala locked eyes with Viggo and shared his thoughts. Her father? What did that mean?

“I promise I’ll talk to her. Again, I’m so sorry.”

Present time

Washington

Emma’s bad manners had surprised Viggo from the first day he met her. He’d excused her behavior though, due to their unusual situation and her admiration of him as a movie star. Past year’s experience had dampened his reactions to how teenage girls acted around him, and more than that he didn’t want to see it. He wanted his grandchild to be perfect. What happened in the school hallway earlier made her behavior harder to ignore, and he couldn’t accept Emma’s treatment of Svala.

During lunch, while Emma’s friends took the opportunity to interrogate him about his personal life, curious to know more about his tattoo and his relationship with Amanda Jones, Freja stayed silent, watching him with her calm blue eyes. There were moments he could swear she recognized him from her past, but she never said. Even if she did recall him, she probably didn’t trust her own memories.

When they arrived back at school, Viggo pulled up outside the building, relieved to get rid of the girls and all their questions. He switched off the engine. “Emma, could I have a word with you before you leave?”

Her friends were halfway out the door but paused when Viggo spoke. He ignored their searching glances, and eventually they continued out of the car. The door closed behind them and Viggo turned in the driver’s seat to face Emma. “Could you do me a favor, Em?”

Emma leaned forward against the black leather seat, eyes sparkling. “Of course.”

“Could you apologize to the girl you bumped into earlier today in the hallway?”

Emma’s smile vanished, and instead, a grimace formed on her pretty face. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. Freja glanced at Viggo, with a grateful but slightly apprehensive expression.

“Please,” Viggo added.

“But, why?” Emma frowned.

Freja closed her eyes, as if Emma’s response disappointed, but didn’t surprise her.

“Well, you were a bit rude to her,” Viggo said.

“But she interfered. She had no right being there in the first place.”

Freja sighed. “Emma, she didn’t interfere. I was talking to her. In fact, both Viggo and I were, and Viggo’s right, you were rude to her. You should apologize.”

Emma frowned again. “I don’t see how it matters. She’s a nobody. She probably knocked her face into my head to get your attention. You shouldn’t encourage that kind of behavior, Viggo.”

Viggo struggled to keep his cool. “I doubt she did it on purpose.”

“You’d be surprised what some people would do to get your attention.”

He forced a smile. “Well, nonetheless, I’d be grateful if you did this for me.”

Emma sighed. “I don’t understand what good it’ll do, but sure. If you really want me to.”

“You promise?”

She smiled. “I promise.”

Freja studied Viggo as he pulled out from the curb. Emma stood on the sidewalk in her tight blue miniskirt and white tank top, waving to them.

“She won’t do it,” Freja said.

“She won’t do what?”

“Apologize.”

Viggo glanced at her. “But she promised she would.” Liosálfar didn’t lie, unless they really had to.

Freja smiled and looked at him. A line formed between her eyebrows. “How in God’s name did someone like you turn out like this?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“You have such faith in people. Considering your background and the way people act around you, I never would have guessed.”

He smiled. “You mean to say you
don’t
have faith in people?”

She shook her head, lips pursed. “I lost my faith in people a long time ago. I think they call it life experience.”

Viggo silenced as guilt stabbed him. She hadn’t forgotten.

“At Emma’s age, I thought I could save the world. I guess young people today are much more realistic that way.” She paused and cringed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not. For some reason you strike me as older. Or more mature anyway.”

He smiled. “No worries.”

The traffic light up ahead switched to red. Viggo slowed the car to a stop and glanced at her, not sure if he crossed the line by asking, but too curious not to. “You mentioned earlier that Emma reminded you of her father. What did you mean by that?”

Freja’s face tensed and she turned to stare out the side window. “I don’t know if I should talk about it. I try to stay positive about him, for Emma’s sake. A girl needs a father, regardless of the situation.”

Her comment did nothing to settle neither his guilt nor his worry, but he feared asking more questions would appear strange. Freja fingered the strap of her purse as the traffic light shifted. He turned left, and bit his tongue to prevent himself from asking more questions about Emma’s father. They drove in silence as it started to rain, and the raindrops drummed on the roof of the black Mercedes, creating a soothing rattle.

“Can I give you some friendly advice?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Despite his acceptance, she waited before she spoke. “It’s never too late to change your mind about something, no matter how scary it seems.”

He didn’t want to know what that meant, but her vague statement called for clarification. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, sometimes you realize you’re about to make a mistake, but you go through with it anyway because you think it’s too late to change your mind. It’s not. It’s never too late to do the right thing.”

He smiled, despite the nausea her statement triggered. He’d tried so hard to suppress the memory of that day all those years ago.

She studied him again and her scrutiny confused him. Was this not a reflection of the horrible thing that happened to her in the past? Was this about something else?

“Is that what happened with Emma’s father?” he asked.

She shrugged and looked out the window again. “It’s never just one thing, is it? It’s the little choices we make that lead up to the bigger ones. The ones that change your life. We all focus too much on the bigger picture, but it’s really the small choices that make all the difference in the end.”

Viggo frowned. She hadn’t answered his question. “I’m not sure I follow. Are you referring to something specific?”

Freja shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

They’d reached another traffic light. Viggo stopped the car and turned to her. “Please, I don’t mind.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.” Another longer pause followed. “This is probably completely out of line, but there was something about the way you looked at that girl earlier today, the blonde. Something in your eyes, I’ve never seen you light up like that.” When he didn’t respond to her comment she grimaced, as if she thought herself silly. “I’m sorry, this really is none of my business.”

“No, do continue.”

Her brows furrowed, like she couldn’t make sense of his reaction. Then her face relaxed. “I don’t know. I just picked up this intense feeling from both of you, almost like an energy field. I can’t explain it. It was something in the way you looked at each other. She was different. Not like those other girls, the ones who joined us for lunch. They look at you as an object they want to possess, but this girl... her interest in you seemed...well, honest. Did you not feel it?”

He smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“So I’m not imagining things? There was an attraction?”

“Well, it’s difficult not to look at someone that pretty.” He ignored her accurate analysis.

The traffic light shifted to green. He placed the car in gear and pushed the gas pedal. Freja lowered her gaze and he could tell she had more to say.

“Amanda is very pretty too,” she said.

He stayed silent, already aware of the point she was about to make. Part of him felt proud his daughter was so perceptive.

“Funny how I’ve never seen you look at her the same way.”

He fought a smile, amused that Freja tried to fix up her own parents without even knowing it.

“Then, again, it’s none of my business.” She stared straight ahead, but offered another quick glance. “We all have to make our own mistakes.”

He seized the opportunity. “Are you talking about Amanda, or Emma’s father?”

Freja stayed silent for a while. The wiper blades swept the rain off the windshield, and Viggo waited for her response. She sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. Sometimes I talk without thinking things through. It’s presumptuous of me to assume you’re anything like me. We’re not even that closely related.”

He turned to her, urging her to explain.

“Your relationship with Amanda reminds me of my relationship with Emma’s father. I never once felt for him what I sensed between you and that girl and I never thought to question why.”

“But now you know?”

“Well, yes. He’s an idiot,” she smiled.

Viggo smiled too, to be polite, but wasn’t satisfied with the answer.
What did that mean? Did he hurt her? Did he cheat on her? Or did they simply not love each other?

“I don’t know Amanda that well. I’m sure she’s lovely once you get to know her.” Freja’s tone of voice told him she didn’t believe her own statement. “Besides, you seem too secure in yourself to make the same mistakes I did. I really shouldn’t have brought it up and I shouldn’t have compared the two situations. They are probably very different.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, you’re much more confident than I was. You believe in yourself.”

He shifted the position of his hands on the steering wheel. “You don’t strike me as someone with a low self-esteem.”

“Not anymore. But I went through some things in my youth that made me doubt myself. Made me question my own value, and it took a long time and a lot of heartache before I came out the other side.”

Viggo tightened his grip on the steering wheel and forced a smile. It had taken thirty years to stop thinking about that day, but one mention of it send him back in time and e remembered every detail of what happened. He never could shake those words or the look in her eyes. It was all their fault.

Present Time

Washington

Emma passed Svala in the hallway and Svala’s attempted smile wavered at the sight of her granddaughter’s condescending smirk. A group of girls followed behind her, and Emma thrust out her chest with pride.

“Seriously, what’s her problem?” Jen glowered as the young girl sauntered down the hallway, head held high.

Svala stared after her grandchild with a distant gaze, unable to keep her disappointment at bay. Jen nudged her side. “Hey. Don’t take it personally. She’s a spoiled little brat. You just happened to stand in her way.”

Svala nodded. “I know. I just wish there was something I could do about it.”

“Why? She’s obviously a bitch. The best thing you can do is ignore her.”

When the worried frown faded from Svala’s face, Jen leaned closer and dropped her voice. “So when are you going to tell me what you and Viggo talked about earlier today?”

“I didn’t talk to him. I talked to Freja.” Svala’s voice pitched and her blood pressure raised.

Jen eased back and arched one brow. “Looked like you talked to him.”

“Well, I didn’t. Freja only introduced me to him. That’s all.”

“And?” Jen insisted.

Svala shrugged. “And nothing. He said hi, I shook his hand, then Emma interrupted us. That was it.”

Jen leaned against the locker and searched her gaze. “Really?”

“Really.” She avoided her friend’s stare.

“Come on, you have to give me more than that.”

“Well, that’s all there is.”

Further down the corridor, Emma and her friends stopped to whisper and giggle as a younger group of girls passed them. Svala sighed and stifled the need to approach her granddaughter and ask why she acted the way she did. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. It wasn’t like a Liosálfar to behave like Emma. The girl was so different from how her mother had been at that age. Something wasn’t right.

***

1982

New York

Freja placed the hair brush on Svala’s white dresser and studied her reflection in the mirror. “Do you think Viggo wants to come along to the movies?” she asked.

Svala watched as Freja pulled at her long blonde hair and angled her head from side to side. “Uhm, I don’t know. He might be busy tonight.” She tried to sound casual. “Why do you ask?”

Freja’s pale cheeks reddened. She lowered her gaze and moved away from the mirror. “No reason.”