Forever Wild(20)

“I’ll have another. Astrid,” Bj?rn calls from his spot in the recliner, his attention riveted on the novel in his meaty grasp. He squints against the blinding sun while holding out his ceramic mug, as if expecting her to retrieve it.

Astrid doesn’t hesitate, shifting to leave her stool.

But I’m already on my feet and closer. “I’ve got it.” I veer toward the idle man in my living room.

Bj?rn looks up from his page and appears momentarily startled to see me. “Oh. Okay. Black, please.”

“Hmm-hmm.” I saunter toward the coffee pot.

“What’s wrong, your legs don’t work, Bj?rn?” Jonah casually throws out on his way down the stairs, fresh from his shower. There’s no bite to his tone, but I give him a warning look, anyway.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, smoothing an affectionate hand across the small of my back as he passes me, heading for Astrid. He leans down to drop a quick kiss on her forehead. “Better night of sleep, Mom?”

She beams as she peers up at him. “Yes. The twin beds are nice. I don’t have to deal with his tossing and turning.”

“And how about you two?” He looks between Simon and my mother, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Like a baby on Ambien,” my mother muses, holding up her magazine to show me a chic barn decked out in white lights and floral arrangements. “What do you think about this venue, Calla? It’s a vineyard in the County. That’s an up-and-coming wine region in Ontario,” she adds for Jonah’s and Astrid’s benefit, her green eyes flittering between them. “They only allow a few weddings a year, but I know the owners. I’ll bet if I contacted them, they would be more than happy to accommodate you two.”

“We haven’t decided where we’re getting married yet,” I remind her as calmly as I can. I was hoping to at least have my coffee in hand before she started in on this. “And the County is two hours outside of Toronto. Everyone would have to travel there.”

“Well, yes, I’m aware, but it’s much easier than your family and friends flying to Alaska, honey.” She’s using that coaxing tone, the one she pulls out when she’s trying to convince me to see that she’s right.

Simon clears his throat.

“Of course, there’s Jonah’s family to think of, too,” she rushes to add, looking to Astrid. “How much family do you have in Norway?”

“Oh, well …” Astrid slides off her black-rimmed reading glasses. “There is my one brother, Arne, and his wife and daughters, and my other brother, Oddvar. He has three children and four grandchildren. No, five grandchildren now. And there’s my one surviving uncle on my mother’s side …”

She rhymes off names as I top Bj?rn’s mug with fresh black coffee and then hold out the pot, offering to fill Jonah’s mug for him.

“Great. A bunch of strangers at our wedding,” Jonah murmurs under his breath, loud enough for only me to hear.

“They’re not all strangers. You know Bj?rn’s kids,” I tease, waiting for his scowl.

It comes almost immediately while taking his first sip.

“I’ve mentioned this to Calla before but, with guests spread out from Alaska to Norway, it would make far more sense to choose a central location for the wedding. Like Toronto. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Astrid’s brow furrows. “I suppose so.”

“See, kids?” Mom smiles triumphantly.

“Mom …” I warn. She’s pushing too hard.

“Or they could get married in Oslo,” Astrid counters, flipping through pages of wedding dresses. “Right, vennen?” I note the edge of challenge in her tone. Is she suggesting this because it’s what she’d prefer, or because she suddenly feels the need to have an equal voice in her only son’s wedding?

“I don’t think …” My mom’s brow furrows. She wasn’t expecting that answer. “Well, I guess it’ll be easier to figure out once they choose a date and we draft a guest list. See where the majority of people are located. Agreed?”

Astrid nods slowly. “That sounds prudent.”

I meet Jonah’s gaze and find him smirking. We both know that no matter how many names Astrid produces, my mother will double that number and they’ll all be Toronto based.

And all of this is a moot point because neither of them is deciding where Jonah and I are getting married!

“You know, there’s a way to avoid all this,” he reminds me. He must see the ire in my eyes.

“It’s tempting at the moment,” I admit.

“What’s tempting?” my mother asks.

“Nothing,” Jonah and I say in unison.

Simon holds out an extra crispy slice of bacon with a set of tongs for me. “I think you and Jonah should decide what’s best for you, and we will help make that happen. Right, Susan?”

If he feels her scathing glare at his back, he ignores it, smiling wide at us.

“Thank you—hey!” I squeal as Jonah intercepts the piece. I snatch it from his grasp with a glower, earning his playful grin.

“Is my coffee ready?” Bj?rn hollers from the living room.

That playful grin evaporates instantly. Jonah opens his mouth—no doubt to offer a confrontational retort.