Chapter 46
Ava
“Which are stronger? Vikings or zombies?”
Connor and I are just wrapping up another round of Zombie Fighters over FaceTime when all three kids immediately start shouting their answers over each other.
“Vikings!”
“Zombies!”
“Vikings with swords!”
Once again, Connor absolutely destroys me while the debate rages on.
I toss my controller onto the couch and grab my chicken sandwich.
“Why?” Connor asks suspiciously.
“Well…” I thumb toward the dark window behind me. “It’s four in the afternoon. “And the sun’s already gone. That sounds like a zombie apocalypse to me.”
Three small faces blink back at me.
“Really?” Connor asks.
I shrug like the answer’s obvious. “Why else would it be dark this soon?”
Snooki gasps.
Ollie throws tiny karate chops at the air. “If zombies come, I’ll protect you.”
“Is the sun still out there?” I ask casually, taking another bite of my sandwich.
All three kids nod.
Connor gives me a look. “It’s eleven in the morning.”
“Exactly.” I point at them solemnly. “Prime zombie hours are still at least six hours away. But stay alert.”
I narrow my eyes seriously and throw a karate chop into the air.
“Keep your combat skills sharp. Just in case.”
All three kids giggle.
Ollie narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Do they actually have zombies in Iceland? You’re pretty close to the Loch Ness Monster.”
Technically, Scotland is hundreds of miles away.
But with Ollie’s geography, close enough.
I lower my voice dramatically.
“Scottish water dragons. Icelandic undead.” I glance toward the dark trailer window. “I don’t know. But…”
I whip out my phone.
“If zombies do attack Iceland, my Insta’s going viral.”
I’m halfway through my chicken sandwich when I groan through another bite.
“Whoever found me this deserves sainthood,” I declare.
I hold up the sandwich like an Olympic medal.
Ollie shrugs, and dips his fry in ketchup. “You must really like chicken.”
“Hey, mister, for the past week I’ve been surviving on protein bars, coffee, and Icelandic cuisine.” I close my eyes after another bite.
Connor snorts. “You literally said Icelandic food sounded haunted.”
“It is haunted.”
All three kids immediately lean closer to the screen.
“Fermented shark,” I whisper ominously.
“What’s fermented?” Snooki asks carefully, sounding out the word.
“Kind of like pickled.”
She makes a face. “Eww.”
Ollie looks impressed. “Did you try it?”
“Absolutely.” I shudder dramatically. “Then I brushed my teeth ten times in a row.”
“Ten times,” Ollie repeats softly, as if he’s mentally updating his toothbrush goals.
I point at him with my sandwich. “Important clarification. Shark gets emergency brushing protocol. All other foods get regular brushing.”
He nods like that makes total sense.
“What else?” Connor asks immediately.
“Blood pudding,” I say in my best scary-story voice.
Snooki’s mouth falls open. “Why would anybody eat that?”
I lean closer to the camera and lower my voice dramatically.
“And apparently Icelanders think some things we eat are weird.”
“Like what?”
“String cheese. Whipped cream in a can.” I glance around the trailer like Icelandic authorities might be listening. “Ranch dressing.”
All three kids giggle.
Snooki leans in. “Show us the chips again.”
I hold up the bag.
Paprika crisps.
Ollie narrows his eyes and reads. “Poppycock,” Ollie says, snickering.
“Paprika,” Connor corrects.
“Poppycock,” Snooki repeats proudly.
Ollie and Snooki immediately start chanting it over each other.
“Poppycock!”
“Poppycock!”
“POPPYCOCK!”
I nearly snort sparkling water straight out my nose.
God, I miss them.
“That’s it.” I shake my head. “As soon as I get home, we’re going spice shopping.”
The laughter fades instantly.
And I know exactly what they’re thinking.
Because I’m thinking it too.
Two more weeks.
Then I only get one week stateside before I’m back in the depths of darkness for another six.
The thought physically hurts.
Still, I force a smile, determined to lighten the mood.
“That’s right. We’re going shopping and buying every spice on the rack.” I point dramatically at the screen. “Including poppycock.”
They dissolve into another round of laughter.
And there it is again.
That ache.
Because for a few magical seconds, this feels good.
Like I’m home with them.
Like Harrison might wander through the background any second now carrying coffee and looking devastatingly attractive in rumpled sweats and bedhead.
The thought hits harder than it should.
Before I can stop myself, the question slips out quietly.
“How’s your dad?”
Connor immediately perks up.
“Do you want to talk to him?”
My stomach flips violently.
“Oh. No, I don’t want to bother him if he’s busy—”
“DAD!”
Too late.
“Not now!” I hear him blast back.
The other two immediately join in.
“SOMEONE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!”
Then Harrison’s voice booms through the house.
“I’m busy!”
The three kids freeze.
So do I.
The silence that follows feels weirdly loud.
Before I can process any of it, somebody knocks on my door.
Probably my laundry.
Thank God.
“I’ve gotta run.”
“Okay,” Snooki sighs dramatically. “Moon love?”
My chest tightens.
It’s a saying she completely made up out of nowhere.
“Moon love,” I echo softly, pressing both hands to my heart.
“Moon love you more!” Ollie shouts hysterically.
“Moon love you most!” Connor fires back.
So competitive.
I smile so hard it aches. “Moon love you all.” I blow them the biggest two-handed kiss.
Their grins hit me like a freight train right before the call disconnects.
Silence settles over the room again.
My gaze drifts toward the Icelandic chocolate bar sitting on the tray beside me.
I hadn’t planned to eat it. The camera adds at least eight thousand pounds.
But Harrison didn’t even bother saying hi.
Screw the diet.
I’m battling heartbreak.
At the very least, I deserve hazelnut cream and 70% cacao.