The Genie's Heartwish, page 26
As they reached the second floor, Laila stood at her threshold, doing her utmost to appear cheery. And normal.
“Mom! Tore! It’s so great to see you!” She yanked them into hugs, clutching tight, but not half as tight as the death grip Astrid had as she clung to her daughter. “Really, really great. I missed you both.”
“Laila, sweetheart, it’s so good to hold you. I’ve been so worried.” Her mom sounded as if Laila had just been rescued from a hostage crisis.
Once her mother’s bear hug eased up enough to steal a breath, Laila said, “I wish you wouldn’t worry so much, Mom. I told you I’m fine. I feel terrible that you flew home ahead of schedule because of me. You and Tore are supposed to be relaxing and enjoying your retirement.”
“You’re far more important to me than any vacation.” Astrid smoothed her hand over Laila’s face, finger-combing her hair like she was a toddler again. “A mother can tell when she’s needed.”
“But—”
“You know your mother.” Tore gave a resigned smile. “There’s no way she’s not going to be here for her little girl if she thinks there might be the slightest hint of a problem.”
She always felt better having Tore’s calming influence around when her mom was seized by trauma mode. He usually knew how to bring Astrid back to a semi-unruffled state.
“This is your apartment?” her sister, Delaney, asked, clearly astounded as she stepped inside and looked around, absently accepting a hug from Reen. Varik came in right after her, looking as astonished as Laila would expect.
“No...it can’t be,” Astrid said. “This place would cost...” Her eyebrows knitted together. “You said you own it?” Her expression was beyond incredulous.
Laila had never seen her mother so dumbfounded. “I-I know it’s a little hard to believe.”
“A little?” Tore gave a low whistle as he took in the lavish surroundings. “My stepdaughter’s living in a high end apartment across from the Pacific Ocean on Ocean Charm Boulevard. Did you win the lottery?”
“Not exactly.” Laila’s shoulder lifted into a shrug. “But close.” Her nervous giggles sounded like machine gun fire. “I’ll make us some coffee and tell you all about it.”
“The floor is marble,” a distracted Delaney noted as she scanned the sizeable foyer.
“Good Lord,” Astrid clutched Tore’s sleeve, “look at this place. Have you ever seen anything like it? Only in the movies,” she answered her own question. “And, my God, that massive crystal chandelier...” Swinging her attention back to her daughter, she said, “Young lady, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“Mom, Tore, welcome home!” Reen gave them a quick hug and kiss once Laila stepped aside. “See, Mom? I told you Laila was fine. Better than fine, actually.”
Laila watched as her mom and Delaney leaned to the right while Tore and Varik leaned to the left of Reen, straining for a better look at Drake and Zak, who’d both just exited the library.
“Hello Drake and...?” Astrid said, her eyebrows arcing.
“Oh...” More rapid fire giggles. “Everybody, this is Zak, my, um, boyfriend.” Laila watched as Zak looked to them, then back at Laila, then did it all over again. It finally dawned on her that she’d told Zak to keep quiet unless she gave him the high sign.
“Say hello, Zak,” she said with a nod indicating permission, aware it probably sounded like he was her ventriloquist’s dummy.
“Hello.” He offered a charming smile and extended his hand first to Tore, then to Varik. “I am very glad to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Thorkelson and Mr. and Mrs. Jenssen. I have heard many good things about you all,” he said while Laila absently mouthed the words along with him as he spoke. So far so good. Thanks to Zak’s astounding memory, he’d said exactly what Laila had instructed.
Extending a hand to Astrid, Zak said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Thorkelson. I hope you and Mr. Thorkelson had a good trip back home from Norway.”
“None of that Mr. and Mrs. stuff,” Laila’s stepdad said. “Call us Tore and Astrid.”
“And please, call us Delaney and Varik.” Delaney motioned to herself and her new husband.
“Thank you.” Zak bowed.
Everything was going according to plan, except for the unrehearsed little bow Zak tacked on. But no big deal.
Friday wiggled his way between Astrid and Tore, licking Tore’s hand.
“Fredag, se hvor stor du har vokst!” Tore said in Norwegian. “Du ser akkurat ut som din bestefar, Torsdag.”
Leaning close to Zak, Drake elbowed him, whispering something and Zak nodded.
“Friday, look how big you've grown!” Zak said, translating Tore’s words. “You look just like your father, Thursday.”
Tore’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You speak Norwegian?”
“Some.” Zak nodded. “From the time I spent in Norway.”
“Well, well, well.” Tore and Varik beamed smiles.
Oh good. Breathing a little easier, Laila said, “Come into the dining room and sit down.” As she led them into the grand room with its long, imposing carved table, sparkling crystal chandelier, walnut wainscoting, and beautiful built-ins with leaded glass doors, Laila watched their heads craning the same way she’d done when she first saw the interior of the magnificent apartment.
A reverent “Wow...” was chorused by the four visitors.
“Whose furniture is this?” Astrid smoothed her hand across the ornately carved dining room chair. “It looks like it costs a fortune.”
“Oh, it’s...it’s mine.” Laila’s smile stretched impossibly wide as her head bobbed. “Zak, why don’t you help me in the kitchen?” It was the best way to keep him from suffering the third degree and risk him saying something suspect.
“Of course. I’d be happy to,” Zak answered, as they’d rehearsed. “Excuse me,” he said to everyone before bowing again.
“Reen, dear,” Astrid held a hand up urging Zak to stay put, “why don’t you give your sister a hand instead? That way we can get to know Zak better.”
“No!” Reen and Laila chorused before exchanging frazzled looks.
All eyes were on Laila and Reen as the skittish pair erupted into a round of staccato laughter.
“Go ahead.” Drake nodded at them, the steady voice of encouragement. “It’ll be fine.”
Wringing her hands, Laila said, “But—”
“Don’t worry,” Tore assured. “I promise I won’t let your mother subject Zak to water torture in your absence.” His casual smile was reassuring.
The tawny glow of Zak’s face blanched. “Water torture is common practice when meeting a girlfriend’s parents?”
“Only if you have something to hide.” Astrid pinned Zak with distrustful look.
With a stiff glance Laila’s way, Zak said, “You neglected to mention this in your briefing, Laila.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Laila murmured, “Great. Just great.”
“Mom’s just kidding,” Reen assured.
“I see.” Zak visibly relaxed. “Do not worry, Laila. Go make coffee. I remember my coaching.” He gave a thumbs up and Laila felt like the air had been let out of her tires.
Varik covered his mouth, muffling laughter. “Sounds like Zak’s a fast learner.”
“So, Zak,” Tore said, “how long ago were you in Norway?”
Zak looked thoughtful for a moment. “About twelve hundred years ago.”
Tore’s face fell.
Astrid gasped.
Varik and Delaney exchanged alarmed expressions.
And Laila gave Zak The Look.
Dragging the mega-stressed Laila by the elbow, Reen urged, “Come on. You may as well just let this happen naturally.”
“But—” Releasing a reconciled sigh, Laila mumbled unintelligent garble as she followed her sister to the kitchen. “You really think it’s okay to leave Zak in there without me? They probably think he’s crazy. Maybe dangerous.”
“It’ll be fine.” Reen stood in front of the ornate brass coffeemaker, ogling its many buttons and levers. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Looks like you need a barista degree to operate it.”
“Zak and I used the little single-cup espresso maker this morning because we couldn’t figure out how to work this behemoth.” Laila trilled a lengthy sigh. “Reen, there’s no way Mom’s going to believe—”
“Laila, relax.” Reen’s hand glided up and down her sister’s back in a calming motion. “Once Drake explains I’m sure Mom will deal with this really well. And you know Delaney, with her trusting nature, won’t be any problem. Drake will convince Tore and Varik, they’ll get caught up in their professor-speak, then, with Delaney’s help, they’ll all convince Mom.” Reen brushed her hands together. “Piece of cake.”
“You what?!” Astrid’s screeching voice had no trouble reaching across the vast expanse between the dining room and kitchen.
Laila and Reen exchanged apprehensive grimaces.
A minute later, Astrid blurted, “He’s what!?”
Laila’s knees knocked. “I’d better go out there and—”
“Coffee,” Reen reminded her. “With Kahlua, Baileys, and a shot of whiskey. We’ll liquor them up good.” She cracked a laugh and Laila joined her as they headed to the pantry, ready to engage in some creative mixology.
~<>~
Zakkar was proud of himself. He’d done a fine job following Laila’s implicit instructions. As he had reminded Laila, he was unable to lie. She coached him not to offer any information unless he was asked. It was working out quite well.
“Five thousand years old?” Astrid gave him a dubious look after he’d answered her question. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. You’re either insane or on drugs.” Her eye narrowed. “Or both.”
“There’s no reason to jump to conclusions.” Delaney patted her mother’s hand.
Zakkar watched Astrid give her daughter the same foreboding look Laila had given him before heading for the kitchen.
He sat silent, just as Laila had instructed. It was difficult not to offer explanation until he was asked, but he was sure Laila knew best when it came to her family. So he simply smiled at Astrid’s incorrect assumptions.
“Aren’t you going to respond?” Astrid asked. “No explanation as to how a man supposedly thousands of years old suddenly becomes my daughter’s boyfriend?”
“If you ask me a question I will gladly answer it,” Zakkar said helpfully. It was clear he was winning the trust of her mother with each calm word he spoke.
Folding her arms across her chest, Astrid asked, “How did you meet my daughter?”
“It was when she opened the bottle in which I was imprisoned thousands of years ago.”
Astrid’s jaw dropped. Zakkar noted she seemed to do that a lot, much like Laila.
“You what?!” she yelped.
“Oh my God...” Delaney’s head dropped to her hand.
He could see where Laila got her attractive looks. While Astrid’s hair was blonde and Delaney’s was black as coal, Laila’s was more the color of walnuts. They all shared the same lapis blue eye color, except for Reen, whose eyes had a green hue.
Tore and Varik, who had Norwegian accents, had golden hair and their eyes were more of an ocean blue. They were tall, sturdy men who, Zakkar imagined, women would find handsome. Unlike Laila’s mother, the men seemed to take things in stride.
“I know how it sounds,” Drake told Astrid, “but Zakkar’s telling the truth. He’s not crazy or on drugs. The man is a bona fide genie.”
“He’s what!?”
“Calm down, Astrid.” Tore patted his wife’s back but she shrugged him off. “Let Drake and Zak tell us about it before you get all riled up.”
“Riled up? Seriously, Tore?”
Astrid looked at her husband as if he’d transformed into The Dragon of Babylon, with a serpent’s head, forelegs of a lion, hind legs of an eagle, and long wriggling serpentine tail. Without doubt, she’d just given Tore The Look.
“Professor Slattery and Laila’s boyfriend are trying to convince us this guy is a genie. A genie, Tore!”
She turned to Zakkar with a narrow-eyed glare similar to an expression Laila had given him before. Clearly, the women of Laila’s family made ample use of The Look.
“You want us to believe that you,” Astrid twirled her hand in the air, “whirled up out of a bottle in a vaporous stream.”
“Yes.” Zakkar smiled, relieved Laila’s mother was closer to understanding the situation. “Exactly.”
“Wow...” Delaney muttered.
“Drake,” Astrid said, to be met with Drake’s shrug.
“Tore? Varik?” Astrid shifted her focus to her husband and son-in-law, who mirrored Drake.
“I don’t know what to say,” Tore admitted.
“While it sounds impossible,” Varik said to Delaney, “you and I, of all people, should believe in the power of magic,” lifting his wife’s chin with his finger, Varik gazed into her eyes, “after what happened to us.” Varik’s other hand rested across the small bump of her belly. It appeared she was with child.
Looking down at her hand, Delaney nodded, twisting the ring on her finger. “Our heartwishes.” She rested her hand over her husband’s.
Zakkar’s gaze settled on Delaney’s ring. He noticed Varik wore one nearly identical. The lustrous stone at the center of each ring appeared to be matching, broken halves.
“I had a feeling the ring was meant for Laila next,” Delaney said, almost as if talking to herself, “I just didn’t know when. Grandma Bekka told me I’d know when the time was right to pass it on.” She held her hand aloft, turning it back and forth, then turned to her husband. “Remember when I told you the stone was glowing the other day?” Varik nodded. “By this morning,” Delaney smiled, “I knew...I felt it. It’s time.”
Varik leaned close, kissing his wife’s cheek before cupping her chin and gazing into her eyes with a loving expression. “As long as you let your heart guide you, you can’t go wrong. That’s what our angels told us.” Varik gazed at his own ring, “Remember?”
Her fair face a reflection of her husband’s affectionate expression, Delaney gave a slow nod. Her smile reached her eyes as she said, “I remember, darling. I remember.”
They exchanged a brief kiss which touched Zakkar’s heart. It must have done the same for Astrid because he heard her sigh. Their love for each other was evident. How easily he could picture himself and Laila sharing the same depth of love together if circumstances were different.
He wondered if both couples at the table realized how fortunate they were to share such timeless devotion.
He liked Laila’s family. Like Drake, these were good people. When the time came for him to return to the bottle he would be comforted in the knowledge that his beloved Laila would be surrounded by loved ones. They would help her through her time of grief.
“Tell me more.” Tore’s words transported Zakkar’s thoughts back to the moment. “About your time in Norway.”
“I want to hear this too,” Varik said.
Astrid huffed a humorless laugh.
“It seems you picked up some of the language during your visit,” Tore noted. “Were you there long?”
“A brief but memorable time.”
“So...would you understand if I told you...” Tore held Zakkar’s gaze as he uttered a warning in Norwegian.
“Tore!” Astrid, who spoke fluent Norwegian, reprimanded. His eyes still on Zakkar, Tore patted his wife’s arm.
Zakkar couldn’t help smiling. “Absolutely,” he answered. Making direct eye contact with Tore, Zakkar translated. “You said, ‘if you ever do anything to hurt Laila, Zakkar, I'll break every bone in your body.’”
Zakkar replied to Laila’s stepfather in Norwegian.
“What did he say?” Delaney asked Varik.
“Exactly the answer he wanted to hear,” Varik answered with a smile.
Maintaining eye contact with Zakkar, a slight smile settled at the corners of Tore’s mouth. It was accompanied by an almost imperceptible nod of acceptance. “Zak told me, ‘though I am not able to die, sir, should I ever harm even a hair on Laila’s head I will hand you my saber to exact untold torture upon me.’”
“Honestly, is all that bloodthirsty bravado really necessary, gentlemen?” Astrid asked, clearly displeased.
“How utterly romantic.” Delaney expelled a sigh.
“It is getting a little heated in here.” Drake loosened his collar. “Ladies?” he called to the kitchen. “What the heck are you doing, roasting the beans? Is that coffee about ready yet?”
“Almost,” Reen called back. “This fancy coffeemaker is complicated. I’m counting on you to hold it together until we get in there, Drake.”
Zakkar noted Reen’s reply failed to instill confidence in Drake whose complexion had paled.
“Why don’t you tell them about your time among the Vikings?” Drake suggested. “Varik is Professor of Scandinavian Studies at Wisdom Harbor University.” Addressing Varik and Tore, Drake said, “Trust me. You’re going to find this fascinating.”
“And that would be your visit to Norway twelve hundred years ago?” Tore asked Zakkar, tongue firmly in cheek.
Zakkar nodded. “It would.”
A single eyebrow arched. “Mmm-hmm.”
Zakkar felt the heat of the man’s careful scrutiny.
“I want to hear this.” Delaney scooted forward in her chair.
“Oh come on, wait a minute.” After doing something with her phone, Astrid held it up, with the calculator facing out. “You’re talking about the year 800?”
“Approximately,” Zakkar offered with a smile. It was getting easier all the time.
With an obvious look of mistrust, Astrid shook her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, that’s not possible.” Clasping her husband’s arm, she cautioned Tore, “Remember, anyone can do research about life in Viking times.”
“We’ll see. Drake believes him, honey, and he’s no fool.”
“I believe him too,” Delaney offered, folding her hands on the table and giving Zakkar her rapt attention.
