“We cannot leave Edna. You take the Tahoe.
Tark and I will get Nora’s Jeep. I’ll wait for you at the tourist
center next to her farm. We will come for a visit under the
pretense of wanting to meet her and spend the day there.”
Gavin’s resolve didn’t budge. Rena sighed and
turned to me.
“Nora, you have to understand Gavin is right
as well. You must be back by nightfall. This dwelling has
protection unequal to anything the earth can offer. You are
uneducated in the ways of your enemy, which makes you vulnerable.
You also are human, which makes you weak and an easy target.”
Sensing that that was as good as it was going
to get, I readily agreed. Gavin was not happy about it, but he
consented it would be all right for the time being.
Rena walked me to the door.
“Thank you for the art lesson, the
friendship, and the compromise … not necessarily in that order.” I
said. Her jasper brown eyes glittered as she gave me a hug.
“It was an honor.”
Gavin’s hands wrapped around my waist, the
truck was still parked within a few feet of the front door. We got
in and sped away.
“We’ll be at your house within the hour. I
will not leave your side, and so if Edna finds me there, it’s going
to have to be all right,” he grumbled.
“Gavin, please be reasonable. How about we
say I can go within the confines of the house?” Honestly, I had to
get a shower and use the washroom.
“The fact you think wood and brick would keep
anything out shows your ignorance,” he said condescendingly.
My anger swelled. I wasn’t helpless, and he
was right there. What, they were going to sneak past him in broad
daylight with his nuclear power plant right next to him?
He grinned; his aggression ebbed. “I see your
point, but please understand. I will not lose you.”
“Nor I you,” I countered.
My eyes felt like they had sand in them, and
I became aware I had been up for almost twenty-four hours straight.
The purr of the engine did me in. I laid my head against Gavin’s
warm shoulder and fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 9—Home
Again
I rolled over to face my small forest of
potted Carolina lilies. Memories of Gavin and our endless night
flooded my thoughts. Panic sparked; I was alone in my tiny bedroom.
Opening my mind, I found him easily above me on the roof.
That’s a good hiding spot,
I
laughed.
My face turned crimson as I thought of Gavin
placing me under the pink and purple comforter. I saw my small room
through fresh eyes, flinched, and blushed again. Grumbling, I
jumped out of bed. His room compared to mine was worlds apart; he
must have had everything as a kid.
Gavin’s conflicted emotions tightened around
me. I emptied my mind for a moment and sighed. Obviously, this
wasn’t a subject he wanted to visit yet. He knew so much more about
my life than I did about his, and it bothered me. I pointedly
stared at the ceiling, letting those thoughts flow through; he
became uncomfortable ... I let it go. He would tell me whatever it
was when he was ready. For some reason, this was hard for him.
Gratitude rippled and I smiled.
All right, all right.
The old floorboards creaked as I walked to
the bathroom. Edna’s door was barely cracked open, and I stopped.
The open door policy clearly stated that no doors were to be closed
during the day. My stomach flipped; I cautiously peeked in.
Edna was still fast asleep. The flowered
comforter gathered around her chin; her body curled in a little
ball as if she were cold. In the ten years I lived here, she never
slept past eight.
“Edna … are you all right?” She looked
smaller; her hair was brittle, and her veins seemed more obvious.
Fear stabbed the pit of my stomach.
“What time it is?” She sounded like bone
china, transparent and extremely breakable.
“I think it’s about ten in the morning?”
“Oh my word … I’ve never slept in this late.
You’d think we lived the life of Riley.” I loved Edna’s sayings,
although I had no idea who Riley was or why you’d want to live like
him. She grimaced as she stretched, carefully sitting up.
“Let me get you breakfast in bed.” I did that
once for her on Mothers’ Day.
“It’s not May yet.” Her eyes twinkled in a
knowing way. “You go on down, Sunshine … I’ll be right there.”
I searched her expression, she sadly smiled
and shooed me away.
Edna did say she was feeling a little under
the weather … if she didn’t get better, I would have to call Dr.
Gene.
Fruit cut up and oatmeal simmering on the
stove, Kate and Hol popped in my thoughts. I wanted to tell Kate
about the fall festival, and I needed to try and talk with Hol at
some point. She hadn’t called, which was never a good sign.
“Hey, this is Holly and I can’t come to the
ph—” I hung up and tried Kate. This time, I waited for the
beep.
“Hey Kate, it’s Noh. How are you and Hol
doing? … Just wanted to catch up, but I guess you’re pretty busy …
take care, you, and I’ll talk to you later.” I placed the phone
back in its charger.
Edna emerged already dressed for the day, sun
hat in hand. The war of the weeds raged on—this time the
battlefield was the strawberry patch.
We talked about the carnival, and I kept the
facts about Gavin’s mysterious appearance as vague as possible. Her
expression was inquisitive, but I had a hard time seeing her
emotions. I never had trouble reading Edna’s moods before, but
today they seemed as if I was sensing them through muddy water. I
guess being around the metaphysical for the past twelve hours
desensitized me.
“Would you mind if Gavin came over
today?”
“No, that’s all right, Sunny. It’s about time
I got to meet this young man.” She smiled and winked. “Mrs. Brown
called last night to tell me about Sophie. She was most interested
to find out you weren’t home yet. She seems to think your Gavin is
quite the charmer.” I snickered … Mrs. Brown did seem quite smitten
with my elf.
Needing a distraction, I straightened up the
kitchen and swept off the front porch. Edna chuckled at my antics.
It never mattered to me before if the house was spotless and she
knew it.
“I’ll be upstairs finishing my homework,” I
grumbled. Edna’s sunshine song followed me up the stairs, and my
heart warmed. That simple melody was what she sang my first summer
on her mountain. It was the sound of home. I smiled and got out the
coffee-stained Shakespeare essay.
The knock on the front door had my English
paper floating to the floor.
“I’ll get it,” Edna chimed. My nerves coiled
into a tight ball as I realized the two most important people in my
life were about to meet. Taking the stairs two at a time, I made it
to the living room just as she twisted the front door’s knob.
Gavin’s handsome face warmly smiled as he
stood in front of the old screen door. Edna froze. The strength of
her emotions startled me, and a shiver ran down my spine. She
gasped, and her knuckles grew white from gripping the doorframe.
Gavin’s quiet confusion swirled. He patiently waited for Edna to
collect her thoughts.
“Michael? ... Is that you?” she whispered.
Gavin’s eyes widened in dismay; grief stabbed me like a knife. I
willed my feet to move, staying focused on Edna. Her breathing
became alarmingly shallow. She gasped once more and her frame
crumpled.
“Edna!” I screamed, reaching her just as she
collapsed. Her complexion paled to a chalky white.
What just happened?
Gavin’s emotions came in waves, almost
buckling my knees. None of this made sense. Grief bore through me,
and I bit my tongue to keep from crying out as I helped Edna back
to the couch. Her face drained of what color she had left.
“Michael?” she pleaded again; tears filled my
eyes.
“Edna, this isn’t Michael … this is Gavin,” I
said, truly alarmed. She’d never shown signs of dementia before.
Maybe that was the problem she’d been so cryptic about. I sat there
patting her hand, not knowing what else to do.
But why would that affect Gavin? Why was he
grieving? My gaze snapped to his wide, emerald eyes, muted with
loss. I didn’t understand.
Gavin? What is it?
He remained still.
My pulse raced from both of their reactions.
I was missing something, and I started to retrace the emotions
painfully coursing through me.
Gavin had only felt grief without despair so
strongly when I brought up the sixth member of his clan. The
realization blindsided me as his voice echoed in my memory….
He
was our leader and the only other Alfar I had ever known who was
attracted to one of your kind. He never claimed his mate, and so he
was more susceptible to the Dokkalfar.
Gavin’s eyes stayed focused on Edna. His
longing told he wanted to meet her for years. I searched all of the
emotions surging, almost hoping I was wrong, but I knew in my heart
it to be true.
Edna had loved their fallen leader. Michael
was the one they lost.
Gavin glanced up and nodded that my thoughts
were correct. He took a deep, unsteady breath and opened the screen
door.
“Michael was part of my family. You must be
his muse on the mountain.” His voice was barely audible. “He spoke
of you often—his one perfect day.” He knelt beside the couch.
“Why didn’t he come back? I waited for
years,” she whispered. Tears glistened; regret and loss emanated
from her. Gavin struggled to find the right words.
“His job took him throughout the world. He
needed to finish his work before he could think of settling down.
He told me once how glad he was you found someone to love. We never
knew your name, he just called you his muse on the mountain … but I
know he desperately wanted to come and see you before he died.”
I looked out the window, suddenly feeling
like I was eavesdropping on an intimate conversation.
“I always thought I’d see him again … perhaps
I will someday,” Edna whispered, as a tear ran down her cheek.
Gavin patted the back of her hand.
“Where are my manners?” she said shakily,
straightening up a bit, trying to resume some sort of normalcy.
Gavin smiled.
“Nora said she’s been working on a few
projects around the house. I’m handy with tools, and I’ll be more
than happy to help.”
Edna swept the tears from her cheek with the
back of her hand.
“I haven’t made a honey-do list in years. You
might regret volunteering, but we’d love to have you.” They sat for
a few minutes, discussing the windows that needed to be replaced.
Edna’s voice grew stronger, but her expression remained
vulnerable.
“Well, the dandelions wait for no one,” she
weakly declared. Gavin helped her to her feet, and she headed out
to the strawberry patch.
We spent the rest of the late morning into
early afternoon on the porch. Gavin’s emotions were still raw, but
he laughed at my slow pace as he worked around me. We already had
the porch sanded, wiped down, and painted by the time Edna came
from the side of the barn with a fresh garbage bag of pulled weeds.
She always put weeds in plastic swearing up and down they jumped
out of anything else.
Edna placed her hat and gloves by the back
door and stared blindly at her mountain. Her color was back; she
seemed to have resolved something while she worked in the
strawberry patch. Gavin fixed the back door hinge, and Edna and I
went upstairs to change.
Fresh jeans and a sweater made me feel
better, and I smiled as I saw Edna in her favorite matching silky
pants and long sleeved blouse. She could make a paper bag look like
an Armani original, but the vivid Kentucky blue brought out the
color of her eyes. An intricately woven gold band adorned her
wrist. In the center was a large, pure, blue stone that was so
smooth it seemed almost liquid. I thought I had seen every piece of
jewelry Arthur had given her, but I would have remembered this
piece.
We sat at the table, and Gavin spent the rest
of the afternoon telling Edna of Michael’s life. Her eyes were
alight with joy, and it seemed sharing time with him brought back
some remnant of her perfect day. I went to the fridge and got out
the pitcher of iced tea. Gavin shifted the conversation, asking her
about her life after Michael. She told of Arthur’s passion for
forest preservation and her efforts to raise money for the
children’s home.
“What do you think about the mountain topping
issue?” Edna asked, reaching for her glass of tea.
Sorrow raged through my heart in that now
familiar wave, making me nauseous. Gavin’s eyes never left the blue
stone hanging delicately from Edna’s wrist.
“Please tell me about your bracelet,” he
whispered. I could tell even that took great effort. Edna searched
his face; her expression once again became vulnerable.
“Michael gave it to me. We’d been together
all day; it was as if time stood still.” She sat there for a
moment, her eyes focused on the past. “We walked home at dusk, and
he promised he would come back. He bent down and unclasped this
from his ankle and placed it on my wrist. I remember thinking it an
odd place to keep such a lovely piece of jewelry, but then he
kissed me and I forgot the world. To this day, I’ve never felt
anything like that kiss. It was pure commitment and devotion. Those
emotions wrote themselves across my heart with a finality I knew
would be forever. The bracelet refused to come off, although I
really didn’t try to remove it. Years passed, and I waited everyday
for him to return … he promised.” Her voice broke, and Gavin
reached for her hand. “Then I met Arthur. He reminded me so much of
my Michael that I agreed to go out with him. One evening, the clasp
suddenly opened, and I thought it was Michael’s sign that it was
all right to marry another. I waited for him for over ten years,
and he never came back.” Tears silently trickled down her face.