Frigga (Valentines Sweethearts)

Chapter 11

Opening day!

I hadn’t slept much all night. I couldn’t stop my heart racing at the thought of talking to Sam. What if he said no, how would I cope? I wondered though the obvious answer was, as usual, right before me. But then again what if he said yes? What did that mean for us, for my life, my family? Mother said she had no qualms with me dating an older man but I'm sure father would adopt some if he took offence to the idea.

I clicked on the kettle and waited for it to boil. Today, I had to do something special with my appearance, something extra that would gain Sam's appreciative eye, to soften him into hearing my declaration. The ping of the kettle drew me sharply from my musings and I poured the water into my cup, savouring the bitter aroma of the dark blend coffee as it swirled up to greet me with as much abandon as a warm shower after the rain. I took a sip, humming in appreciation as the molten liquid slid down my throat.

It was one of those days where I was too nervous to eat anything for breakfast despite actually having something in my cupboards other than noodles. Mum would laugh though I would be the one laughing when she discovered I had simply added the carb filled taste of toaster waffles. I grinned. I wish she could have come to the opening of my first interior design job but father and her had decided to go away on an extended business trip to elevate the family to new heights. More likely one of my siblings was pondering a proposal and awaiting their blessing - or not.

I sipped another calming mouthful of coffee and headed to the bathroom, looking into the tall mirror above the sink. Should I wear louder makeup? Change my hair? I don’t know, I thought, swirling my hair into a bun and looking this way and that.

I painted my eyeshadow a little darker, trying to highlight the natural blue of my eyes. I added a little blush to my face making sure there was no hint of fatigue left from my week's work. What to do with my hair? I thought, looking into the mirror to admire my reflection. Was a pony tail too simple? I started to French braid my mid length hair, creating a crown like facade. Okay, Frigga you can do this. I straightened my suit trousers, pairing them with a pale pink blouse, grabbed my bags and phone and left the house.

As always, the walk to the bus stop was peaceful early in the morning, the sun was covered in a dust of clouds barely waking to a new day. I shook off the cool morning air. The scent of damp grass filling my nose made me sneeze. Someone's thinking of you , mother would say. I gave a small smile. As my heartbeat sped up at the sight of the pantomime poster the dame on it seemed to be blowing me a kiss. I chuckled, those were good omens. I would be okay. Whatever happened. I nodded to the bus driver as I stepped on, swiping my card and taking a perch on the edge of a seat. It was a little earlier than my usual bus, meaning the interior was strangely peaceful with the purring of the engine. It soothed the butterflies awakening in my stomach and calmed the raging of my overzealous heart.

“Have a nice day, Miss,” the bus driver offered as I hesitantly exited the bus. This was the last time I’d be making this journey , I thought, a pain stabbing my chest. I had come to love this strange old museum, to respect and enjoy every outlandish chip and chitter from Jessy and every just-off moody smile from Mr Wallace.

“Frigga sweetie!”

“Hey Jessy, everything running smoothly?”

“Yep, all ready. Just waiting to hear back from the actor. I got a message about car trouble.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, but he reassures me he’ll be here in time so don’t worry.” She grinned but I couldn’t help the nerves that ate at me.

“What about Mr Wallace?”

“Oh, he’s in the blue room. The press will be here at eleven and Sam should be around here somewhere.” I blushed a little at the mention of Sam, Jessy grinned. “Your hair looks good, he’ll definitely notice.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink as I walked past the desk to check the light was on the correct dimness so as not to damage any of the artifacts.

Content everything was as close to perfect as I could manage, I doubled back, hunting for Sam but after clearing the exhibit twice, I still hadn’t discovered where he was hiding. I walked back to the desk where Jessy stood, a worried look clouding her face, her brows knotted as she growled down the phone

“What’s happened?” She waved her hand to shush me

“Is it Sam, is he okay?” I couldn’t help but hold my breath, trying to eavesdrop, my chest constricting tighter and tighter. She rolled her eyes, instantly I could breathe again.

“Jessy!” bellowed Mr Wallace, storming from the blue room. “Where's this actor? The crowds are forming and the press van just pulled up.”

“I'm on it.”

“Frigga, I need to speak to you alone and then we’ll sort this mess out. Jessy, the children expect Thor. Find me Thor or find me a costume!”

“Yes sir!” Jessy, tearing up, put the phone down and started rifling through contacts as Mr Wallace spoke to me, laying out his thoughts on my future and then ordering me to help sort out the Thor mess. All the while Sam was nowhere to be seen. He was probably hiding out in the stockroom, polishing some kind of artifact.

“Jessy, talk to me.”

“The actor got his car going again and then the bloody thing just packed up.” She threw her hands in the air. “What am I gonna do? Mr Wallace is relying on me.”

“How about one of us dress up as Thor? The children won't know the difference and there's got to be a costume shop somewhere.”

“It’s a good idea but the closest costume shop is in the city and the crowd is waiting.”

“Do you know anyone who's into comic books? They may have a costume we can borrow.”

“No. I don’t.” She began to sob. “I don’t know what to do, Frigga.” I gave her a quick hug, my heart melting at her despair as my mind ticked over with possibilities.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He went out to tie the ribbon for Mr Wallace and the mayor to cut.”

“Right, get him in here, grab one of those Thor dress up helmets and hammer we’re selling in the gift shop.”

“That’s a good idea, but it wont work. The kids these days know their stuff.”

“Trust me.” My mind raced, trying to recall where I had seen a silver breastplate – the medieval exhibit that had been packed away and boxed ready to ship to another museum. Oh please god, let it still be here. I raced through to the storage room and ferreted through boxes. Sam would likely kill me for messing up his system but Mr Wallace and the museum would be saved from looking like fools in the Etenham newspaper. Besides, I would help him clean it up. I smiled, more time with the man who made my heart thunder in my ears until only his voice was heard over the cacophony.

I moved another box, dropping wood shavings and straw all over the floor until finally my hands landed on the hard cold metal of the breastplate. I pulled it out, a grin on my face staring back at my reflection. Thank god Sam had polished it before packing it away. I dragged the heavy mass out and back to reception where Sam stood staring at me, shaking his head.

“Please just trust me. Put the breastplate and helmet on.”

“But I look nothing like Thor.”

“You will, I promise. Now Jessy, help him put it on.” I hurry away again heading into Mr Wallace's office where his prized roman armour stood century. Carefully, I detached the soft robe. Mr Wallace was going to kill me , I thought. But he said ‘do anything’ to fix it. I chewed my lip as I hurried back to reception. “Here, put the cloak on.”

Jessy stood back, gasping tears flooded her cheeks. “You did it, Frigga!”

“I told you I would fix it.” Sam glared at me. “Just think, you can answer all the children’s questions easily.”

“I look like an idiot,” he protested.

“You look like the modern day depiction of the god of thunder.” He straightened at that, his pride reforming and my stomach knotted. “Go get them.” I grinned as he walked out, plastic hammer swinging in one hand, his Romans cloak gliding like a red carpet with every step he took. Sigh . Jessy chuckled.

“He sure does look tempting.”

“Mmm. He makes a good Thor.” I watched with pride. I didn’t deserve to feel my chest swelling as I watched the ribbon being cut and Sam led the children inside, laughing and joking with them. A wide grin spread across my face as I helped Jessy run the entrance till and later on the gift shop. The day went past at a phenomenal speed and before we knew it Jessy was turning the sign on the door to closed. Mr Wallace appeared, his face stern as he strode towards me.

“Miss Smith, if I wasn’t so grateful for you saving the open day I would fire you. How dare you desecrate my Roman armour.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean any offence. I just put it together after Jessy said there was no costume shop in town and I”-

“Saved the day.” I blushed a little as behind him Sam appeared, shrugging out of his costume and handing the robe to Mr Wallace, who delicately folded it and took it away.

“I’ll take the armour.” Jessys voice tinkled as she wheeled her chair out from behind the counter. Sam carefully placed it on her lap and she wheeled away, winking at me, but before I had time to speak Sam asked,

“So where will you go now? Are there any interior design jobs local?”

“Actually, Mr Wallace asked me to stay on with the museum for future exhibitions and I agreed.” I smiled, my blood pressure raised a little, drawing a blush on my cheeks.

“You’re staying? That’s great news! I mean, the museum would miss you.” His doe eyes glittered like smokey quartz.

I couldn’t deny the butterflies in my stomach as they fluttered in adoration. I flicked my eyes down shyly. I felt this tingling in my every cell. Yes, he’s very happy and it means I can stay living in my aunt's house.

“ What will you do in between exhibits for work?”

“I'm thinking of branching out as a small interior decorator so it's along the same lines of my work, just a little more basic. I mean, you never know, dungarees may suit me.” I chuckled lightly.

He reached out, tilting my chin just the slightest fraction so our eyes met, a cosmos of shooting stars erupting as our eyes connected, our souls gazed.

“Sam, I…” His lips crashed into mine, the pressure firm but tender as the plump wetness of his tongue licked the seam of my strawberry-glossed lips with abandon, drawing them open for him to bridge the rainbow of true love to Asgard. My body tingled like a sparkler, every cell bursting with sensation. Somehow he had opened the door to my heart, the butterflies constantly fluttering in my stomach morphed, budding into daisies in full bloom, settling any doubts.

I instantly missed the touch of his lips as he pulled back, staring unsurely into my eyes. I could feel his heart racing from our bodies touching.

“Sam,” I looked up at him through heavy love-dusted eyelids.

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “It’s just… as its Valentines, I thought I might stand a chance butjust let me keep the memory, okay.?” He pulled away, his distance making my heart cold.

“Sam.” He turned back, a hollow look on his face. I took a deep breath, gazed into his eyes and spoke from myheart. “I never meant to offend you. I want you to understand. I have feelings for you. I-think I-”

“I love you too.” He turned back, swooping me into a hug so tight our hearts embraced. The grin on my face lit my eyes with stardust. “You know, Odin and Frigga were destined to be like you and I, Valentine sweethearts for eternity.”

“Does that mean you will come to the pantomime with me?”

“Do you have tickets?”

“Yes.” He grinned. “I will go anywhere with you.”

“Mum was right.”

“What?”

“She said I should take a chance.”

“Sweet Frigga,” he stroked my cheek. “Everyone has their heart broken at some point, but it is always worth the chance that the next person will sew it back together and cherish it like the world it is to them - to me.” A wide grin spread across my face at his beautiful words.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“No.” My face dropped, my heart plummeting. He lifted my chin, my bottom lips wobbling as he gazed into my eyes. “But I'll be your man friend.”

“Jerk,” I chuckled, a teary sound. He smiled back.

“Together at last. This Valentines has to be the best ever.”

“Wait until next year.”