Page 77 of The Very Virile Viking

"Huh?"

"You prove my point, macho man."

Magnus appeared stunned by the vehemence of her verbal attack. It was a common reaction from people who didn't know Carmen and her politics.

"Any woman who thinks George Clooney is a dud doesn't know anything," Grandma put in.

Yay, Grandma!

"Aunt Rose! Are you still fixated on that radio broadcast? I told you, I have nothing against George Clooney… just women who think looks are more important than brains."

"Who's George Clooney?" Torolf wanted to know.

"Some geezer that old ladies consider a hunk." Lily was eying Torolf from head to toe, and her expression said she would put him in the hunk category. Unlike her mother, it seemed Lily had nothing against hunks. "Awesome armrings, dude."

"Old ladies!" Grandma exclaimed indignantly.

"You consider George Clooney a geezer?" Angela asked incredulously.

Carmen was beaming at her daughter, whom she'd apparently raised in her own feminist tradition.

"Aha! So, this is the man-hater kinfolk. I should have known." Magnus was speaking to Grandma.

Grandma nodded.

Exactly what had her grandmother been telling Magnus?

"Man-hater? Who's a man-hater? Just because a woman stands up for her rights, everyone thinks she has to be a man-hater." Carmen wagged a forefinger at Magnus's face… well, actually his chest, since he was so tall. "You know, some people think God is a woman. Personally, I do. How about you?"

Magnus just grinned, which probably infuriated Carmen.

"How about coffee and fresh-baked biscotti?" Grandma Rose offered, hoping to change the subject.

"Lily, you can have milk, or fresh-squeezed juice."

"I totally prefer coffee… black," Lily said. "Mom lets me drink coffee. In fact, she said I can drink, like, anything I want… even wine. It's my decision."

Oh, boy! Angela could see where this conversation was headed.

Grandma's face turned bright red with outrage. "Feminist… scheminist, Carmen. You need to learn a few rules about being a good parent."

"Are you… are you… saying I'm a bad mother, Aunt Rose?"

" Enough!" Magnus roared.

Surprised, everyone turned to look at the big Viking, whose size overwhelmed the kitchen, despite its roominess.

"Have we not had enough disharmony here with the fire? Let us start over on a peaceable note," he suggested. Reaching out a hand to Carmen, he said, "Greetings, m'lady. I am Magnus Ericsson, Angela's… I mean, uh, a visitor here at the Blue Dragon."

Greetings? Carmen mouthed silently. But she shook Magnus's hand and said, "I'm Carmen Abruzzo-Martin, Angela's cousin."

"I thought as much."

"And what do you do for a living, Magnus?"

"I am a farmer… and a Viking, of course."

"Of course," Carmen said, but to Angela she silently mouthed another question… actually, two. A farmer ? And, A Viking ? It was clear what Carmen thought of Angela's choice in men. "Let me guess, Magnus the Magnificent—or is that Conan the Barbarian?—that sword in Aunt Rose's umbrella stand belongs to you, right? Just in case you need to fight a duel among the chardonnays? Ha, ha, ha."