Page 36 of Truly, Madly Viking

"My name isn't Fred," Fur-red said. "It's Moses."

Oh, for the love of Freyja!

"These are the Ten Commandments," he added, contemplating the food trenchers with the same fondness a mother would show toward a newborn babe cradled in the crook of her arm.

And Mag-he thinks I am in the same class as these muddleheaded fools?

"Natalie, we haven't heard from you today, except for some singing, which was lovely, by the way."

Not-a-lie had her hands folded in her lap, where she kept wringing them nervously. But she did peer up finally and disclose, "I went to the mall with my mother this week."

"Why, Natalie, that's wonderful!" Mag-he said, and started to clap her hands together. As if on cue, everyone else started clapping their hands together, too. So Jorund joined in, as well. He assumed that this hand-clapping was a sign of approval. He had no idea what they were all approving of, but for now he was willing to go along with the crowd, especially if it would convince Mag-he that he was improving.

"I'm a sex addict," the mousy woman known as Rosalyn blurted out.

Everyone appeared stunned by her announcement. Then, one by one, the men leaned forward with decided interest to gaze at the plain wench.

"What's a sex add-hick?" Jorund asked Steve.

Steve jiggled his eyebrows. "A person who can't get enough."

"Enough what?"

The only response Steve gave him was a grin and a jab in the ribs with his elbow.

"Oh," Jorund murmured when realization hit. And he, too, leaned forward for a better view. The wench still looked plain as barley flour, even with her now flaming face.

"Rosalyn," Mag-he said. "You never told us that before. Thank you for sharing."

Mag-he started to clap, and everyone joined in. The men clapped really hard.

"I wanted to tell you, but I was too... too embarrassed."

"Now, Rosalyn, you know that we decided at the beginning of group that there would be no judging of each other... that no one should be embarrassed to disclose anything. Therapy won't work if we're not, all of us, honest with each other."

"Hell, if I can admit I've got a limp wick, what the hell were you afraid of?" Steve asked huffily.

Rosalyn gave Steve a scathing glare.

"Why are you here?" Hair-vee had stopped counting his teeth and was now counting the buttons lining the front of his shert, even as he addressed his blunt question to Jorund.

All eyes swung his way.

He wasn't sure what he should say. "I'm here to be, ah, healed."

"From what?" the singer asked, then resumed humming.

Jorund mumbled under his breath.

"What?" They all strained to hear.

"I am Jorund the Warrior, and I come from the tenth century," he practically shouted.

All jaws, except Mag-he's, were open. She just seemed sad.

Then a small voice next to him that sounded very much like a horse neighing commented, "Well, whoop-dee-dee!"

Maggie was leaning over Beth's shoulder that evening while she explained her Internet Web site.