Gunnar tapped Ingrid on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear.
She chuckled lightly and turned her attention to Spot. "He wants to thank
you for finding his jack."
Spot bit his lip, turning to Ingrid. "How do you say you're welcome?"
"De er velkommen," she offered.
"Der velkmonen," Spot attempted, lifting Gunnar into his chair.
Ingrid smiled at his mispronunciation. "Close enough."
He regarded her with a smile before ordering them all some food.
"Are you from Norway then?" he asked as they waited for their food to arrive.
She nodded, keeping a watchful eye on Gunnar who had slipped out of his chair and was playing contently a few feet away.
"So where did ya learn English?"
She turned her gaze back to Spot. "I attended boarding school in London."
Spot sighed lightly, a bit frustrated by her reluctant answers. But then again, who was he to chide her for holding back her past. He did it every day.
"Boarding school, huh?" he asked, his tone quickly taking on a hint of humor.
"Is that so hard to believe?" she asked, her eyes dancing with unspoken laughter.
Spot smirked. "Nah, not at all."
Ingrid laughed lightly. "Good answer."
He watched her laugh, hypnotized by her eyes. When their food came, he forced himself to aver his eyes.
When their food arrived, Ingrid easily lifted Gunnar off of the floor and placed him in the seat. She glanced up to see Spot staring at them with curiosity. Lowering her eyes, she returned to her seat and began to eat slowly. She could feel his eyes on her as she took a bite of oatmeal.
"He is not my son," she said softly, her eyes concentrated on her food.
Spot waited until she finally looked up at him and then nodded. They finished their food in relative silence, both unsure of how to continue the conversation.
"Well, thank you for lunch, Caleb," Ingrid said as he opened the door for her.
"Der velkommen," he replied, earning himself a grin from her.
"You are improving."
He smirked. "I am a quick study."
They stood in silence for a moment, giving Ingrid a chance to study him more closely. His eyes, which seemed blue when they first met, now shone a clear grey. Though he seemed scrawny, further inspection revealed defined muscles below the sleeves rolled up his arm.
"Ey, buddy boy!"
When Ingrid saw a larger, well built newsie coming toward them, she took it as an opportunity to make a quick exit. "It was nice meeting you, Caleb. Good day to you."
She took Gunnar's hand and led him passed the strange newsie quickly.
"Ingrid, wait!"
She turned and waved, flashing him a bright smile before vanishing around the corner of a nearby building.
"Very nice, Spot," Striker commented, his eyes following Ingrid until she was out of sight.
"Ya need somethin, Striker?" Spot asked, a bit irritated by the interruption.
"Just curious how you're passin your time." Striker smiled and pulled out a cigarette. "I approve, although I'd loose da kid."
For some reason, Striker's last comment bothered him. He rolled his eyes and started down the street. "Come on, let's go swimmin."
Spot bit his lip, turning to Ingrid. "How do you say you're welcome?"
"De er velkommen," she offered.
"Der velkmonen," Spot attempted, lifting Gunnar into his chair.
Ingrid smiled at his mispronunciation. "Close enough."
He regarded her with a smile before ordering them all some food.
"Are you from Norway then?" he asked as they waited for their food to arrive.
She nodded, keeping a watchful eye on Gunnar who had slipped out of his chair and was playing contently a few feet away.
"So where did ya learn English?"
She turned her gaze back to Spot. "I attended boarding school in London."
Spot sighed lightly, a bit frustrated by her reluctant answers. But then again, who was he to chide her for holding back her past. He did it every day.
"Boarding school, huh?" he asked, his tone quickly taking on a hint of humor.
"Is that so hard to believe?" she asked, her eyes dancing with unspoken laughter.
Spot smirked. "Nah, not at all."
Ingrid laughed lightly. "Good answer."
He watched her laugh, hypnotized by her eyes. When their food came, he forced himself to aver his eyes.
When their food arrived, Ingrid easily lifted Gunnar off of the floor and placed him in the seat. She glanced up to see Spot staring at them with curiosity. Lowering her eyes, she returned to her seat and began to eat slowly. She could feel his eyes on her as she took a bite of oatmeal.
"He is not my son," she said softly, her eyes concentrated on her food.
Spot waited until she finally looked up at him and then nodded. They finished their food in relative silence, both unsure of how to continue the conversation.
"Well, thank you for lunch, Caleb," Ingrid said as he opened the door for her.
"Der velkommen," he replied, earning himself a grin from her.
"You are improving."
He smirked. "I am a quick study."
They stood in silence for a moment, giving Ingrid a chance to study him more closely. His eyes, which seemed blue when they first met, now shone a clear grey. Though he seemed scrawny, further inspection revealed defined muscles below the sleeves rolled up his arm.
"Ey, buddy boy!"
When Ingrid saw a larger, well built newsie coming toward them, she took it as an opportunity to make a quick exit. "It was nice meeting you, Caleb. Good day to you."
She took Gunnar's hand and led him passed the strange newsie quickly.
"Ingrid, wait!"
She turned and waved, flashing him a bright smile before vanishing around the corner of a nearby building.
"Very nice, Spot," Striker commented, his eyes following Ingrid until she was out of sight.
"Ya need somethin, Striker?" Spot asked, a bit irritated by the interruption.
"Just curious how you're passin your time." Striker smiled and pulled out a cigarette. "I approve, although I'd loose da kid."
For some reason, Striker's last comment bothered him. He rolled his eyes and started down the street. "Come on, let's go swimmin."