Authors: Leigh Morgan
Rumi,~13th Century
Reed glanced around at the people milling
about the grounds. Some played croquet, some sat sipping champagne
and mixed drinks, as they would tea, never worried about how much
they were consuming. Some chatted, some strolled the gardens,
others were still out on various sized boats, enjoying the late
afternoon sun. No one had dressed for dinner yet, although she'd
have to take the lead and do so soon, Lily told her that was the
way it was done.
She missed Jordon that morning. He left
before she awakened. She asked Thorson, who knew everything and
told next to nothing, where he was, but all she got was some quote
she couldn't decipher about planting trees and growing them in the
heart. Macbeth was never one of her favorite plays, she barely got
through it with Cliff notes in college. All she wanted to know now
was where Jordon was. All she got from Thorson was Shakespeare.
The Bennetts, and their entourage, were
frustrating and unknowable. Especially Thorson, who she wanted to
shake like a naughty leprechaun until he gave up the gold. That
never worked, but Reed was willing to bet she'd feel better for
having tried.
Shay found her in the rose garden
overlooking the lake. She'd stumbled upon it after going through
the hedge maze.
"Hey, why so glum, chum? You're supposed to
be celebrating your marriage." Shay said, taking a seat next to her
on the concrete bench.
Reed spun the diamond ring, Jordon gave her
last night, on her finger. "That would be easier to do if the groom
was here."
Shay put his arm around her and pulled her
to him. They sat there silently for a moment, both lost in thought.
The sun hadn't quite set yet, just hovering on the horizon, a big
yellow-orange ball of light warming everything in its path, setting
the roses on fire, especially the yellow ones which seemed to
glow.
"This really is a beautiful place,
especially here, where there's no one drinking champagne by the
magnum or twittering about yacht furnishings and who's going to win
the cup
this year." Reed looked at the lake, sighed heavily,
and dropped her head to Shay's shoulder.
"I'm not sure I belong here. I don't fit
in."
"You're not listening to the trash being
spewed out of those silver-spoon mouths are you? Whadda they know?
They don't know you. You've got more heart, and more guts, than any
ten of them combined. Jordon saw that right off. Why do you think
he asked you to marry him?"
"Well, if I believed the trash, as you call
it, he married me to secure his place as head of William's company
when William retires." Reed laughed past the tears that threatened
to choke her. It hurt her throat, and her voice was deeper when she
continued.
"He had to marry someone quickly. William
demanded it if he wanted to keep his job." Reed shrugged. "I was
convenient."
Shay roared with laughter, irritating her.
Reed pushed away from him, her eyes narrowing at the genuine
amusement in his twinkling eyes and his broad grin.
"It's true. He married me to keep his
job."
"That part of it may be true." Shay
shrugged. "So what if it started out that way?"
"That's
funny
to you?"
Shay's grin lessened into a small smile, but
the twinkle in his eyes didn't diminish. She wanted to hit him but
she wasn't sure he'd given her enough cause yet.
"Not particularly, but you thinking anyone
would marry you because you're convenient? Now that's damn funny.
Nothing about you, Red, is convenient. In fact, you're the least
convenient person I've ever met. I'm willing to bet being married
to you is anything but convenient. Truth be told, you're a pain in
the ass. A loveable pain in the ass, but a pain nonetheless."
Shay laughed again. Reed pushed him off the
bench.
"There's no way a smart guy like Jordon
didn't sense that within ten seconds of meeting you." Shay
said.
"If you don't stop laughing I'm going to
stomp on you." Reed said, but there was no real heat in her words.
Shay was right, being married to her hadn't been all that
convenient for Jordon. It had been more than convenient for her
though. In Jordon, she had a partner, a true partner. One who
helped with every aspect of Potters Woods, even finding ways for
them to move from being insolvent to profitable.
And, he loved her.
Reed didn't need Jordon here to know that.
He grew like the tap root of an oak in her heart, long and deep,
spreading everywhere below the surface. Growing, green, beautiful
and magnificently strong above it. Living long after the span of
generations of human life.
Maybe Thorson wasn't so obtuse after
all.
It only took one laughing leprechaun, in
warriors clothing, to get her to understand that.
"Go ahead, Red. Stomp to your heart's
content if it'll make you feel better. You've been sounding a lot
like a whiny teenager feeling sorry for herself, you might as well
act like one." Shay sat up but he didn't get up. Reed saw his
muscles tense and knew the second she lifted a leg she'd be rolling
in the dirt with him.
"You're right."
"What?"
"I said, you're right." She cocked her head
at him and grinned, feeling lighter and stronger than she did
seconds ago. "Do you need it in writing?"
Shay stood up, brushed himself off and sat
back down beside her. "Would you? Do it with a Sharpie, I don't
want the ink to fade."
"You're a pain in the ass too, you
know."
"I do. But that's why you love me."
"I do love you, but that's not why."
"Must be my sweet Irish charm." He said,
brogue flowing from his tongue like warm honey and cream over
scones.
"You see the true me, and, you continue to
be my best friend." Reed kissed his cheek.
Shay didn't respond. Reed couldn't read his
face as she pulled away, it was as if he was hiding something from
her and then, as quickly as that feeling came, it banished with his
ready grin. He threw his arm around her shoulders and led her back
through the maze. Back to reality.
"Shall we go don our finest, and mingle with
the rich and shallow?"
"Lead on, leprechaun king."
Shay was right, she wasn't convenient. She
wasn't rich or particularly beautiful. She wasn't all that charming
either, although she had her moments. She was fiercely loyal. She
was smarter than her actions of the past few weeks attested to. She
was in love with Jordon Bennett, and she was loyal enough to know
he had a reason for his absence that was more important than what
was happening here. Whatever that reason was, she'd support
him.
If anyone here didn't like that...
Well then, she'd just have to kick their
ass.
After all, she was a warrior elf, ready to
get more than just her feet wet in the ocean. She was ready to jump
naked into those waters and dive all the way down. Something told
her Jordon had already taken the plunge and was waiting.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
You may be planning departure, as a human
soul
leaves the world taking almost all its
sweetness
with it. You saddle your horse.
You must be going. Remember you have
friends
here as faithful as grass and sky...
Rumi,~13th Century
Jordon sat on the pier, fishing line in the
water with the pole supported by a stand so he wouldn't have to
attend to it, Irma in his arms. She weighed almost nothing and was
so frail and cold. Despite the lingering sun, he had her wrapped in
a wool blanket to ease her shivering. Henry and Finn sat side by
side on the bank near them, but not so near as to disturb their
privacy, the three deerhounds lay in the grass, heads on their
front paws, alert, keeping vigil for Irma. The two over-sized cats,
Freya and Loki, curled on the pier near her feet.
"The sun's going down, Jordon."
Jordon held her tighter, knowing she wasn't
talking about the sun above. "I know."
"Thank you for getting me out of the
hospital."
Jordon smiled. "Seems to me you got yourself
out."
"Without you, I wouldn't have a place to go
or the energy to get there."
"Don't talk Irma. You'll tire yourself."
"I'm well past tired, boy, and not above
playing the death card." Irma coughed, racking her whole body. She
was in terrible pain, but she refused to take the pills nurse
Peacock forced into her hands as Jordon wheeled her out of the
hospital. Irma said she didn't want to be 'all looped up' when she
saw her last sunset.
Stubborn, stubborn, woman.
Jordon forced back tears and the sudden
thickening in his throat. This was so much harder than he thought
it was going to be when he walked into the hospital, both barrels
blazing. He didn't want to let her go, this unlikely friend he'd
had so little time with. How did she get to him anyway? Loving her
and letting her go hurt more than anything he'd felt in a long
time.
People in his life came and went with the
wind. Some he missed, some he was sorry to see go, and a few, a
precious few, helped define the man he wanted to be. Emily was one
of the few, and she left him after having been on earth only a few
hours. Irma was another, and she was leaving him now too. He could
feel her spirit tugging at her skin to be free, and nothing he did
or said could keep it contained, no matter how tightly he held
on.
"You need to promise me something,
Jordon."
"Why? Because you're dying?"
"Yes. A fact you can't stop or delay by
denying it, or by denying me. Now, give me your promise that you'll
do what I tell you."
"I promise."
"I want to be cremated, and I want my ashes
spread on the pond."
"That's it? That's what you want me to
promise?"
"No. I'm still gearing up for that."
"Irma you are one crazy old lady."
"And you love me."
"That I do." Jordon said kissing her
forehead.
The sun was at the horizon now. Irma stared
at its soft radiance for a moment before tugging at his shirt.
"Then come here so I can whisper it in your ear. I always wanted to
whisper in a handsome man's ear. Don't know why I waited this
long."
Jordon bent and listened. When she was done,
he straightened and nodded soberly. "You have my promise."
The smile she gave him was radiant, and the
twinkle in her watery green eyes remained as she watched the sun
set on this hemisphere only to rise in the next.
"I love you, too, Jordon. You're a good
man."
She closed her eyes and gave her last
breath.
Jordon bent his head and cried until night
purpled the sky and the first star began to shine. The dogs sang, a
long howling lament. The cats joined in a sound that managed to
hold joy and sadness. Then, Henry came and took Irma from his arms.
Jordon didn't want to let her go. He looked at his friend, not even
trying to stop the stream of tears flowing down his face.
"Jordon, you have to let go of her. She's
gone now. She's at peace."
"She's not gone, Henry. Not really."
"Jordon, let me take her. I'll watch over
her until you get back. You've been gone all day, and you need to
go back to Reed."
Hearing his wife's name jolted him out of
his pain, reminding him of his promise. He needed to get to
her.
"Take care of her, Henry. Please."
"You know I will. Take a shower, and change
your clothes. I'll have one of my men drive you."
"I'll drive him." Finn said, reaching for
Jordon's hand. He let her guide him toward the house. Her eyes were
puffy and red-rimmed.
"You've been crying." He said.
"So have you."
"I'm going to miss her. More than I ever
thought I would."
"She's right you know."
Jordon looked at Finn, not following.
"You are a good man." She walked away before
he could respond.
Was he a good man? He didn't know. He knew
he wanted to be, but for the first time, he didn't have a clear
path marked out to make it so. He had no idea where to go from
here. He had no job, no goal to achieve, no purpose beyond becoming
the man Reed, Irma and now Finn thought he was, and holding Reed's
hand every step of the way.
Right after he washed the sadness of death
from his skin, he was going to find his family. He needed to find
Reed. He needed to find his heart.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
...This poetry. I never know what I'm going
to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
Rumi,~13th Century
Jesse was on his fourth Mountain Dew as he
watched all the fake people talking about fake things, as they
wandered about in their bubbles of superiority. They didn't know
the first thing about how tough life can be, if they did, they
wouldn't act like such idiots.
He was sure Reed would take him to task for
painting them all with what she'd call the same wide brush, but as
far as he could see and hear, most of them fit the bill. All they
did was try to out talk each other. For the women, it was diamonds,
furs, and trips to the Med. For the men, it was boats, cognac, and
how much they didn't have to pay in taxes last year.
Losers, one and all. He especially hated the
'pretty boys' his age, who didn't tug on their tuxedos, and who
knew which fork to use when the table was set with four of them.
Who needed four forks? There wasn't even one girl here who talked
to him, not one. Apparently, he didn't smell rich enough, which was
a joke, considering Jordon, his step-father, was one of the top
five richest men in the world, according to people who keep lists
of that kind of thing. Apparently no one here expected that
relationship to last.