Drink Deeply and Dream.

Chapter 9

Callie's Pov

There were only a few cars parked in the lot when we pulled up to the Museum. I didn't want to wait for him to open the door so I slid out of the vehicle: He was at my side in seconds. "I would have gotten that for you," he said, sounding slightly hurt.

I smiled at him, "I know. But if we are going to keep seeing each other, you are going to have to get used to letting me do things for myself. I'm not ungrateful, but I wasn't raised to be so delicate." He nodded and returned my smile.

"A niece of Octavia's wouldn't be so delicate anyway, but there is nothing wrong with letting a man treat you like a lady. Shall we, continue my dear?" I nodded as he offered me his arm and, like a sap, I took it.

"Yes, I am eager to see the exhibit."

He chuckled. "As am I, my dear." The reception hall was barely filled with people. Not many in these parts value history like I do: Most my own age don't. Rick grabbed a pamphlet and handed it to me. On the front, it read, "This Exhibit is sponsored by Northstar Inc. Speaker: Mr. Alexander Skarsgård, a Historian on loan to us from New York." I just nodded and smiled softly.

Did he know Octavia? I shouldn't be so surprised, she is much older than anyone can know. Rumors even say she is one of the ancients. If he knows her, I wonder what else he may know? It would explain why she called me out of the blue.

"Is something wrong? I thought you would be happy coming here. We could leave..."

I interrupted him, "No, I am happy, I've just got a lot on my mind. Come on, I'd love to hear about your favorite part of history." I was proud of myself for such a nice change of subject. I could think of the connection between my charming new boyfriend and the only mother I have known some other time.

They had the designs for real Viking ships on display, and not the ones you see in the movies. Next to them were pictures of houses and the camps, and mannequins dressed in the regalia of that time. I watched my date's face as he stared at each item as if recalling a distant memory: Knowing how old he was, he probably was.

"This, Min Alskare, would have been something you would have worn back then," he said as he pointed to a female mannequin
I smiled as I looked on curiously. It was nothing like you saw in the movies. I stepped back and took in the wonderful and neat artifacts hanging from the walls or plastic human statues.

"What language was that?" I couldn't help but incline my head to one side in interest.

"Swedish, it means my love. I remember much of the dialect from those days." I was unable to contain my rising thrill at the possible chance to learn the language.

"Overwhelming, is it not, how time seems to shift and change? Yet so much remains the same. You would have been a shieldmaiden."

I shook my head, "I don't think so: I'm nothing like those women. They were strong and fierce."

He smiled, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Come, I do believe the seminar is starting shortly."

I followed him into a small auditorium: The red carpet was faded and the stage was brightly lit. I lead the way to the middle center row: I wanted to see our speaker. Rick sat next to me, his hand in mine. "I wonder if the speaker will meet with me after the show. I want to thank him for the chance to experience some of Sweden's culture."

The twinkle in Rick's eyes is back. "I think I can arrange something. I could try to find Mr. Skarsgård and see if he would meet with us?" Elated at the thought of meeting the man behind this show I nodded. I folded my pamphlet into my purse and placed my hands on my lap, absently looking around the room. It was reasonable in size and was slowly filling up with people.