by Laura Burton
“What do you do?”
“I’m a land developer,” he said evasively.
“Like a builder or what?”
“Sort of. What do you do for a living?”
“I’m sort-of a writer,” she countered, raising an eyebrow at him. “If you can tell half-truths, I can too.”
“I buy land, sell it, or have buildings built on it for profit.”
“So, you are filthy rich and own a lot of land.”
“You could say that.”
“I’m a travel blogger and food critic,” she admitted. “I travel the world, check out places, write about it, and get paid big-bucks to nosh on weird cuisine.”
“Then my country should meet your needs.”
“I saw you have some weird foods here.”
“We do.”
“Is there stuff you would avoid,” she asked, peering into a few dishes.
“Several items,” he admitted, laughing and handing her a plate.
“Okay, well if you won’t eat them—I’d prefer not to,” she balked, looking at him. “Feel free to point out what each dish is.”
“I thought you were a food critic.”
“That means I’m particular and try a lot of things,” she explained. “It doesn’t mean that I will eat anything put in front of me. I do have limits.”
“This is smorrebrod and that’s plokkfiskur.”
“What is that?”
“A stew made with cod, potatoes, and heavy cream. If you like pepper, you will love it,” he said with a smile, looking at her sideways as he put a spoonful in a bowl. “As a boy, my mother used to make it for us every weekend. It reminds me of those times.”
“Fish stew—got it,” she said with a brisk nod, ladling herself a portion as well that nearly mimicked his. They moved down the table, peering into each dish hesitantly. “What about that?”
“Fermented shark,” Jon said casually, picking up a spoon and handing it to her.
“What?”
“It’s a very traditional meal.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Then I won’t tell you what is in the containers if you will judge it by the name instead of the taste. Who is the food critic now?” he taunted, a smirk touching those lips that made her heart turn over nervously in her chest.
“Fine,” she bit out, frustrated, grabbing the spoon and putting a small dollop of each dish from the table on her plate angrily. She wasn’t even analyzing it. Instead, she was plopping it on there with an intensity that could crack the porcelain of the dishes with the impact of the spoon. Jon didn’t say a word, he just watched her with that annoying smile. As she finished, she turned to take her place at the table.
… and dropped her plate.
The food scattered onto the floor, creating a mess as she stared at the table in stunned shock. Several people ran out from the kitchen as she stood unmoving for several moments before kneeling down to help pick up the mess. She uttered several apologies under her breath as the staff looked at her out of the corner of her eyes.
Penny felt extremely bad for making the mess and was sure that everyone from the kitchen, and Jon, was watching her disaster. As they finished wiping down the wooden floor and scurried away, she rose from where she’d been kneeling and stared at the table once again, her hands shaking as she looked upon the object that caught her attention.
A two liter of Pepsi sat gleaming on the table.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, turning to look at Jon. His shy smile touched her in a way she never expected. “Where did that come from?”
“I had a case flown in,” he shrugged. “Let’s get you another plate.”
“You can’t just lob a bomb like that at me, and not expect to talk about it,” she sputtered, walking over to him in stunned shock as she stared up at the man who’d been popping up repeatedly the last few days.
“You had a case of Pepsi flown in—for me? You seriously did that? Why? Why would you do that?”
“To make you happy, Penelope,” Jon confessed softly, setting down his plate blindly as he held her gaze. She saw the truth in those depths and felt a pang deep in her soul that she knew would be there forever.
“I wanted to show you that I listen and that I am not trying to be this ‘creep’ that you’ve mentioned…”
Penny stood on her tiptoes and immediately pressed her lips to his, silencing him. She felt him jump as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. He let out a soft groan as she kissed him deeply, Jon’s arms cradling her to him like she was the most precious treasure in the world. After a moment, she broke the kiss, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he held her in his trembling arms, as if he was afraid to let her go.
“I can’t believe you did something like that,” she whispered, laying her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat steady and sure under her ear. No one had ever listened and done something just to please her—and it was such a simple thing. It wasn’t something she asked for, wished for, or begged for—it was the fact that he paid attention to the little things and went out of his way to provide them.
She would never forget this moment.
“I don’t suppose you could let me try it too,” he whispered in her hair before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She felt herself smile as she dashed away a tear before he could see it. Rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner, she stomped one foot playfully.
“I suppose I could share,” she drawled out.
“Then I suppose I could reveal that I’m glad you dropped your plate,” he grinned, winking at her.
“Why is that?”
“You put sour sheep’s head, ram testicles, and puffin hearts on your plate and personally – I wouldn’t touch the stuff,” he laughed. Penny knew her face paled horribly as she stared between the tables laden with food and Jon’s grinning face.
“What is wrong with you people?” she gasped, utterly horrified, “and to think I kissed you… on the mouth! Oh, my gosh!”
He pulled her into his arms, laughing uproariously as she struggled valiantly to free herself. Penny was disgusted and scared to try anything anymore, because there was no telling what nightmare could lurk within the gravy laden dishes that seemed to be prevalent in the country.
“Is nothing safe? Is nothing sacred?” she stammered, disgusted.
“Penelope, I’ll tell you what is in each one and you can decide for yourself, I promise.”
“How will I know you are telling the truth?”
“You’ll have to take a chance on me,” he admitted.
“Pepsi, huh?” she reminded him. “It is Pepsi, right?”
“Yes, astin min. It’s Pepsi. This I swear to you.”
Several minutes later, as she was selectively preparing her plate again, looking at it skeptically as she listened to Jon tell her about each dish and the ingredients.
“I feel like I’m dealing with the Swedish chef off of the Muppets listening to you. Does your population just throw a bunch of whatever in a bowl, cook it, and cover it with gravy?”
“I guess that is one way of putting it, astin min,” he confirmed with a wide grin. “When you grow up on it, you are quite accustomed to the foods, and some things you eat in America seem strange to us as well. Cherish the cultures and embrace the changes.”
“I’m gonna cherish my precious Pepsi, thank you very much,” she retorted with a grin, taking her seat and looking to the man who sat across from her. He reached over the table and held her hand for a moment, smiling at her.
“Eg elska þig.”
Jon whispered softly, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles as he held her hand. His dark eyes held hers and she knew he was saying something important. She wished she spoke the language, and perhaps she would start to learn a little here and there.
“What does that mean?”
He hesitated and looked at his plate before answering. His eyes held hers for a moment before he translated—and she knew he was lying.
“Let’s just eat while its warm.”
Penny’s stomach gave a rumble, and she almost asked what he’d really said, but grew quiet as he opened the two-liter of Pepsi with a hiss of fizz. At his bright, knowing smile, she realized she didn’t care and they could talk about it later. She was about to indulge in several delicacies and a soft drink that could curl her toes with delight.
Alert! Alert!
Two things to discuss and not sure how to broach either one, so bear with me as I gather my muddled thoughts. First, I think I met someone and I’m a little freaked out and how unexpectedly wonderful he is turning out to be (Mama, I’ll call you later—I promise! Love you bunches, K, thx!).
Secondly, before ordering traditional food in Iceland, you need to be prepared for anything… and I mean A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. Today, while having dinner with the above-mentioned heartthrob that has knocked me soundly on my bum with an unexpected gift… (cringe) I nearly ate Puffin heart and soured sheep’s brain.
(Insert wild sobbing here)
I’m not even kidding, people! You need to grab a menu that has translations on there. You all know I love Puffins and penguins—so that was like a brutal stab in the proverbial heart to think one of them ended up on my plate. I will not describe it nor will I post photos—but I will tell you I am definitely falling for the guy and finally got my Pepsi fix. (If you ever read this blog, thank you so much, Ikea-boy!)
Yours truly,
Penny Pincher
P.S. Did you know that it’s illegal to have a pet turtle here? Look it up—it’s true. I had Pokey, my box turtle, for five years as a kid when growing up. #Lawbreaker #renegade #wildchild #longlivetheTurtles
Chapter 7
6
Penny spent hours on end talking with Jon at the restaurant and ended up promising to meet him tomorrow evening to see the northern lights. They could not see much there from the restaurant and he said there was a lovely location to view them best. Apparently his parents had taken he and his sister there as children. Learning about his youth, his sister’s children, and his life made things seem almost normal between them. It didn’t feel quite so much like a fling, but rather felt like they were building a relationship.
The term ‘fling’ made it sound like there wasn’t emotion connected with it, and that certainly wasn’t correct. She really liked Jon and wanted to know more about him. She wanted to meet his sister and see how he spent his downtime. It was crazy to see that he was always working, and she’d caught him taking several photos with his phone of properties as they were out and about.
She confided in him about her fears, her hopes, her dreams, realizing that the clock was ticking and she would be heading back to the States or some other location soon. This dinner date felt almost magical, and she liked the idea that everything good was because of the elves. While it seemed crazy to her, there was something definitely special happening between them.
They were supposed to drive out to Grotta, to spend the evening hours watching the stars and waiting for the aurora to descend across the sky. Jon described it as a waterfall of green lights that was incomparable.
Looking back, she could have never imagined how much she would grow to care about the guy that she’d originally thought was stalking her. Avoiding him seemed like such a mistake now that she understood how he was driven to go after what he wanted.
He’d done it with business, and apparently that translated over to his home life too. Wasn’t she the same? She’d hated working a job where people told her what to do and when to do it – so she’d taken off and sustained her own wishes and dreams. She realized that she was just as driven as he was, but in very different manners, but that was changing.
Before, she would grow bored and already be searching for the next location to visit. Now, she had this growing sense of dread taking hold in her stomach. She had a little over a week left in Iceland and would miss it terribly.
She loved it here, and there was so much still to see and do. She wanted to see the whales and glaciers. There were so many pubs to investigate and lounge around in. Apparently some smaller towns gathered there to watch sports games as a community on the television. People recognized her around town and said hello. She’d even picked up a phrase or two… but nothing hurt her as much as the idea of saying goodbye to Jon.
It hit her like a ton of bricks when she’d kissed him last night.
If she left Iceland, it would be like leaving a vital part of herself behind. This morning, as she sipped on her coffee in her room and peered out the window to the busy streets below, she searched properties and how to get a VISA.
The idea was crazy, but she’d done life-changing, crazy things before already. She’d quit a job that paid fifty-grand a year in order to make less than half that. She’d sold her car, house, and possessions to keep from being tied down. Her parents had supported her in everything, and she found herself outlining plans this morning on the telephone.
She didn’t want to leave.
Not yet.
“Are you changing your mind?” Jon asked quietly, steering his Volkswagen Touareg along the winding roads. “You are very quiet tonight and usually talking quite a bit.”
“Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Is it anything you want to talk about?”
“I love this place,” she whispered candidly, staring out the passenger window as the sun descended over the horizon. “It’s just so peaceful, so beautiful, and I’ve never felt like this before. It’s strange.”
Jon pulled the car over onto the side of the road, almost putting the tires into the grass. He got out and came around the car with an intense look on his face. Pulling her door open, it shocked her to see him extend a hand.
“Trust me?”
“What are we doing?”
“Talking.”
Penny got out of the car and followed him up the hillside, stumbling and clinging in a few places. She found herself utterly confused as he pulled himself into a seated position on the hill, looking over the bay down below.
“What do you see?” he asked quietly, reaching for her hand as she sat beside him. She adored the way he was always touching her or holding her hand. It was like he needed the contact almost as much as she did.
“I see the waters, a small, sleepy village,” she breathed, staring off into the distance. “I see ancient lands that time has long forgotten, a world swept away and trying to catch up in places,” she whispered.
“Close your eyes and breathe deeply,” Jon instructed. “Listen to the wind and feel what it tells you within your soul.”
Penny did as he asked, feeling a rush of something within her as a gust of air lifted her hair off her shoulders.
“Now, what do you feel deep inside about the world around you?”
“History,” she breathed softly, feeling herself relax into the moment.
“I feel a… peace that I never knew was there. Warriors of the past walked this world yet I’m not scared; I treasure that this land is beyond ancient, and that there is a magic here that can’t be seen, but felt. Don’t laugh, but it feels like I am being welcomed home. But there is so much to explore still.”
She opened her eyes to see his encouraging smile.
“What do you feel when you close your eyes?”
Jon took a deep breath and faced forward blindly. He grew silent for several moments and she stared at him, admiring his beautiful yet strong profile.
“I feel a bond with my past here, that I am tied to this land that my family helped build. I feel connected to the cities and roads my ancestors founded. There is a soulful peace and tranquility in being grounded here—but there is something more now,” he whispered, his brow creased as he turned his face upwards to the sky.
“I feel a future within my grasp and while I never understood it before, I see my destiny within reach,” he breathed. “I feel like I am a part of something greater, something more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I have hope for
something that makes my soul sing.”
Penny watched as he opened his eyes and looked at her, his eyes searching hers. A car whizzed by them on the road unnoticed as she couldn’t pull herself away from his gaze. She knew what he meant when he asked what she felt when she closed her eyes.
She felt love.
“Eg elska þig, Penelope,” he admitted.
She recognized that was the same phrase that he’d said at dinner when he’d held her hand at the table. She didn’t need him to translate, because she now understood what he was telling her. It was in his eyes, in his heart, and in his soul.
“I love you too,” she confessed.
“Ekki fara frá mér. Ég elska þig meira en þú munt nokkurn tíma vita eða skilja. Vertu með mér að eilífu.” Jon whispered intensely, love in his eyes blazing with emotion. He pulled her hand to his lips, before leaning towards her.
She met him halfway, kissing him tenderly as he continued to whisper softly to her, against her lips. He nuzzled the bridge of his nose against hers before drawing back and reaching into his shirt pocket. He smiled at her playfully, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, while his voice was thick with emotion as he held out an Allen wrench to her.
“What’s that?” she questioned.
“I never realized that all the pieces around me were waiting to be put together - until you walked into my life. Now, I find myself head-over-heels in love with a rude American who stormed her way into my heart. I love you, Penelope, in whatever language we need to say it in,” he uttered, his voice breaking as he stared at her.
Penelope felt a tear streak down her face as she met his eyes, and reached up to caress his cheek, as he continued to speak from the heart.
“I know this is crazy but nothing feels more right, more pure, between us. I want you to stay here with me and let’s build a life together. I want you as my wife,” Jon whispered.
“Are you really proposing… with an Allen wrench?”
“I thought it was a cute reference to when you used to call me Ikea,” he replied with a watery grin, dashing a tear from his eyes before reaching into his pocket once again.