Page 19 of Kicking it with my Fake Fiancé
By the time I’d made it into the hallway to greet Kasper and Ingrid, they were pulling their coats off and hanging them on the rack.
“Matthias,” Kasper said by way of greeting, nodding formally at me. “Where’s Mamma?”
“Kitchen.” I stepped forward and shook his hand, and then took Ingrid’s hand in both of mine. “Ingrid, you’re looking well.” She was, too. Her skin was bright and clear, her smile radiant, and her hair was done up in a long braid wrapped around her head like a crown. Her dress flowed from her body beautifully. “Great dress.”
“Oh, thank you.” When I released her, she immediately shoved both hands into the pockets of her dress. The look on her face was somewhat suspect, but I couldn’t pin down exactly why.
“I think I’ll go say hello,” Kasper said.
I grabbed his arm to stop him. “She’s not alone in there.”
Kasper looked thoughtful for a moment, eyes up as if he were thinking. “Linnea?”
I nearly laughed. “No. Do you remember my American friend Jared, the one I lived with for a while in high school?” When Kasper’s eyebrows furrowed, I continued. “He’s here visiting. We… had news to share.”
“News?”
“I wanted to tell Mamma something. It couldn’t wait until you arrived. I’m sorry.”
“Well, go on then. What’s the news?” Kasper scratched at an eyebrow with his thumbnail before pressing his thumb into his temple briefly.
“I’m getting married. We are. Jared and I. To each other, I mean.” I didn’t know why I was stumbling over my words, but sometimes just the presence of Kasper flustered me, partially because he was older, and partially because he was just so judgmental. “And I’m moving to America to start a new job.”
A muscle twitched in Kasper’s jaw and he closed his eyes briefly. “Please tell me you are joking.”
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
“Is that what this is all about?” He tilted his head toward the camera.
“Yes, something like that.” I’d warned him that there was a television crew coming, but just like Mamma, I hadn’t told him much beyond that.
Kasper began to scold me in hushed Norwegian, asking how I could do that to Mamma, surprise her with news that I was leaving. He told me how much she needed me to be close by and asked if I realized how hard things had been for her. Besides, what was wrong with marrying Linnea? he asked. Wasn’t she perfectly passable for a wife?
“I don’t want someone passable,” I bit out. “I want someone I’m in love with.”
“And you’re in love with someone you’ve known since high school?”
I snorted. “That’s interesting, coming from you.”
He turned to Ingrid, his face red. “If you want to leave, we can do that. We don’t have to stay.”
“Kasper.” She put her hand on his arm gently. “Let’s not let this ruin our visit, okay? We came for a reason. Keep that in mind.”
He took a few deep breaths and nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
“Of course it is.” She stroked his arm. “Now let’s go sit down. I need to rest.”
I frowned but followed them into the living room. As we went to sit, Steve caught my eye and gave me a thumbs-up, grin a mile wide. He was loving the family drama. I was sure of that.
Not long after, Mamma and Jared summoned us to the dining table, where platters of smoked fish and other meats, brunost, buttered bread, and other sandwich ingredients were sitting out, including tubes of caviar and a bottle of sun-dried tomato paste. My stomach growled as we dug in. Mamma did an excellent job of keeping the conversation flowing peacefully, and just as I was starting to feel at home and settled in, less shaken from the argument earlier, Kasper cleared his throat.
“Ingrid and I have some news to share as well.”
“You’re getting married again?” I asked dryly.
“Actually, no.” He looked at Ingrid, who gave him a small, shy smile and nodded. Kasper continued. “We’re expecting.”
Mamma nearly dropped the knife she was using to spread caviar. “You aren’t!”
