by

C.J. Prince

I flopped on Harrie’s sofa and glared at the mug of chai she set precisely centered on a crystal glass coaster in front of me.

"My grandmother always urged a cuppa tea when you’re down and out," Harrie crooned in a perfect Scottish accent. She wasn’t Scottish.

"Harrie, I don’t want tea."

"Just let me get this," she said as she flipped the vacuum into a roar and zipped across the footprints I’d left on her pristine cobalt blue carpet.

"Harrie, c’mon. I need to talk," I yelled over the disturbance.

"Be right with you, Sweetie." She snapped off the vacuum and briskly whipped the cord into place. "Okay, tell me what’s up, Dannah?" She put the vacuum in her cleaning closet and turned to run a dust cloth over the dining room table.

"Harrie, I want you to sit down and look at me when I’m talking to you. I need your support here."

"Dannah darling, you always have my support," she said as she leaned across me to dust the windowsill behind the sofa.

The backdoor opened and I heard the click of heels on shiny linoleum. Talia Master.

"Dannah, I don’t have a minute but I wanted to stop off and tell you I’m here for you. I got your voice mail. Sounded like you needed us pronto." She smiled. Her black hair hung in an easy pageboy. She was dressed for work in a pin stripped suit, teal blue silk blouse and chic Gucci heels. My toes wriggled around in my Birks, grateful for the space.

"Great. You’re both here but you can’t hear." I slumped back into the cushion and frowned.

"My, you’re grumpy this morning. I’d love to hear about it but I have a patient," she checked her watch, "in fifteen minutes. Can we meet for dinner?" Talia glanced at Harrie and back at me, her raised eyebrows waiting for an answer.

"I don’t know if I can wait." I pursed my lips. I didn’t want to just blurt it out.

"What?" Talia asked.

"Zip came over last night."

"You slept with him." They spoke in unison but Harrie’s was a question, Talia’s a statement. They both were at my sides, arms around me in seconds.

"How could you?" Harrie asked, shaking her head and rubbing my back.

"How could I?" I swallowed, trying to force the lump in my throat out of the way. It didn’t work. They held me.

"Honey, I’m home," the voice danced as the back door opened and closed quietly. Lauren paused at the entry, hair swept up in a tidy bun, make up enhancing the violet blue eyes. She straightened the prim pink suit jacket and took two hesitant steps forward.

"Dannah, I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. It’s Zip, isn’t it? And it’s a girl thing? Promise you’ll call me later. I have to know." Lauren blew me a kiss, looked rejected and left so quietly you wouldn’t know she wore four inch spiked pink satin heels.

Lauren is Loren, Harrie’s next door neighbor and usually just one of the girls. A gay transvestite. We all love him but instinctively he knew I needed to be with my soul sisters. How did everyone know it was Zip? Am I that tragic?

"Dannah, I know this could be an all day thing. Tell us the basics. We have to be able to take care of you." Talia was going to be late to work and she hated that.

"Start at the beginning," Harrie said quietly, squeezing my hand. The lump grew in my throat but I nodded.

"I just finished a big painting, two feet by three feet. An angel flying over an airplane in the mists. The doorbell rang. I was a mess. Oil paint on my hands, my apron pocket full of brushes. No makeup. The bell kept ringing but I ignored it as I swirled my signature into the left hand corner."

I saw Harrie and Talia exchange glances and figured they wanted me to hurry up.

"I grabbed an old cloth, dabbed it in turpentine, and rubbed at my fingers as I hurried to the front door." They knew that wasn’t very far. My home and my studio and my entire life is contained in a converted chicken coop. No kidding. Sounds kooky but the rent is reasonable. Okay. Cheap. The Colonel and his wife converted it some years ago as a guest cottage. She died and he decided to rent it to me when everything went awry with Zip. The lump in my throat was almost gagging me.

"There he was. Zip. Handsome as ever but with a two day old beard. His blue eyes snuggling into me. He handed me a bouquet of flowers." I sniffed. My jaw tightened.

"Probably stole them," Harrie murmured. Again the look between the two of them.

"They were wrapped in cellophane, like from a florist," I don’t know why I was defending him. She shrugged a shoulder as if to say, what difference would that make? She was right but I didn’t want to admit it.

"He came in, produced a bottle of excellent cabernet from his backpack and poured two glasses. He had that raw, intimate, I-need-you look. I had to listen to him. His new girl friend Amethyst turned him out."

"Smart woman," Talia said.

"He said he had no where to turn, that we’d had such good times, did I remember this and that and we were suddenly laughing at those few good times. I served peanut butter on crackers and he told me he was so lost and I was the only one in the world for him and please would I take him back." Harrie handed me a tissue and I blew my nose.

"You didn’t say yes, did you?" Talia asked, her tone disapproving.

"No, I didn’t say yes," I snapped.

"Dannah, honey, cut to the chase. What happened in bed?" Harrie insisted.

"Well, he was so dear, so sweet, so in need of being held, and our bodies felt so good together and there we were and there was no time or place or sense of here and now or the past and it was…" I blew my nose again. "Wonderful." I started crying, the lump making me gasp for breath in great heaving sobs.

"Really?" Harrie was obviously skeptical.

I shook my head. "No. Well, at first it was. But then he got a little rough. Then it was just an orgasm and an escape." I didn’t go into details.

Harrie rubbed my back. Talia held a damp paper towel to my forehead.

"And you didn’t use protection?" I could tell Talia was trying not to be judgmental. Her voice was soft. I looked up, dabbing my eyes with a soggy tissue, and shook my head. No.

"First things first, Sweetheart. You’re forty. You’ve never been pregnant by some luck of the gods. What if you’re pregnant?" Harrie asked.

"I’m not," I protested.

"Answer me, Sweet Pea. What if?"

"Do you want a baby in your life right now?" Talia spoke.

"Sweet Jesus, no. Not then, not now, not ever. It’s not my destiny. How could I ever cope with a baby? I can hardly deal with my own issues. There’s no place for a baby in the Coop. Just for me and Half Moon, sweet kitty."

Talia tapped her David Yurman watch, flipped open her cell phone and spoke into it. "Office."

Harrie held a wastebasket under my hand and I dropped in a mound of damp tissues—plus the wet paper towel.

"Thanks." Jeez, what if I really were pregnant. I can’t be. Crazy. What about those drug store tests. Should I do one of those?

"And you left him at the Coop to come over here?" Harrie asked.

I nodded. "Stupid, I know."

"Dusty, cancel my nine o’clock. No, re-schedule her for that opening this afternoon. Hold the space. I’m on my way in. With Dannah. Set up Exam Room number one. Yes, for a pelvic."

Shit. It was a blessing and a curse for one of my best friends to be a doctor. I guess I’ll call it a blessing.

Harrie’s doorbell rang. She glided to the peephole and peered. "Guess who?" she called back over her shoulder quietly.

Talia ushered me to the back side of the door, next to the drapes. She peeked out but we both already knew who it was.

"Zip, what a surprise," Harrie gushed. "No, Dannah’s not here. Left her car here for Loren to work on. What are you up to these days?"

I strained to hear his answers but could tell he was mumbling, yes, probably lying. Damn, how could I start this all over again, and bring my best friends into it?

I scooted around Talia, pulled the drapery back a smidge and peeped out the window. In the bright light of an October morning, he looked pretty scruffy. Unkempt. Dark circles under his eyes. I was jolted into current reality. Not that mindless state I’d been in after a little wine and his sad sack stories. I eased the curtain back into place and turned to look at Talia. She put her arms around me and held me as I shook.

"Nope. I don’t expect her back today. She was leaving Fondis to go up to Denver to look for a job," Harrie lied.

"C’mon," Talia whispered. "I parked in the alley out back. Harrie knows where we’re going. And she’ll get rid of your ex scum ball. Pardon the expression."

I climbed into Talia’s Mercedes and we skimmed down the alley on a cloud as if there were no pot holes.

"Don’t worry, Dannah. We’ll work this out. What are friends for?" She reached across and squeezed my hand.

"I’m so stupid. Shit." I started to cry again and she let me. I’d married Mr. Scum Ball, that’s what everyone called him after the divorce, on an impulse, thinking he was Mr. Right. Wrong. Totally wrong. He never kept a job. Drank. Promised me everything. Delivered nothing. I stuck it out for as long as I could. He made a business deal with my brother and then absconded with all the funds, personal money my bro had put up. That did it. By then he was into drugs of some kind. Would be gone for a long time and come in looking worse than an un-neutered alley cat. I lost my car, my house and eventually my job because of him. Whatever was I thinking to bed him last night? Obviously, I wasn’t thinking at all.

Talia pulled into the back of the clinic. Humbly, I followed her through the employee entrance. She settled me in the back examination room and handed me a gown.

"Caroline will be in to take your vitals. I’ll be right back."

"Yes, Doc." I forced a smile.

H

Chapter II

"Dannah, I want to do some basic tests for sexually transmitted diseases," Talia said, pulling on rubber gloves as I lay back, trying to relax. Caroline pressed a button on the CD player and soft new age music filled the room.

Talia glanced at my fisted hands and turned to Caroline. "Chamomile tea, please." Caroline slipped out the door.

"You know I hate those icy cold metal things you stick in my vagina," I shuddered in advance of the intrusion.

"Problem solved, Dannah. We use disposable plastic spectulums now, and I have a special unit to heat it to body temperature. It shouldn’t be a problem." She moved the paper cloth past my knees and frowned. I always feel so vulnerable in this position. It’s easier now in some ways, but equally weird to have your best friend nudging around in your private parts.

She made a tsking sound between her lips. "I’ll need to use a swab, take a culture to send off to the lab."

Caroline opened the door and carried a mug of tea to the counter.

"I’ll let you know if I need your help, Caroline." Talia didn’t look up and Caroline left.

"How are you doing?"

"How do you think? I feel stupid and duped and I hurt."

"You should. There’s some damage here. I’m going to look for Trichomonas, she said, moving to a microscope on the counter. "I’ll give you a prescription to cover it just in case. Then we have to wait for the lab results before we can determine anything further."

I stared at the mobile over the exam table. Dolphins and birds edged together in a slow twirl like a Escheresque sculpture.

Talia slipped the tiny cell from her suit jacket, flicked it open. "Yes, Harrie. The back exam room. Bring your bag." Talia wrote something in my chart. For a long time.

"Dannah, this is serious. I’d call it rape. To be reported. Put out a restraining order." She pursed her lips.

"But I was willing. At first."

"No matter. Date rape. You haven’t looked at yourself have you?"

I wondered what she meant. I knew I looked a wreck. No sleep. No make up. My faded old jeans, paint streaked tee shirt. No, I hadn’t looked at myself. I knew I was a mess.

"You’re ripped and torn. I can prescribe a cream but I’m afraid you’ll be sore for some time." She moved to a drawer and returned to my left side. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly as you look at the flower picture on the wall."

I turned my head to the right. The red hibiscus was ablaze with faeries dancing about the yellow stamen. I hardly felt the needle go in my left vein.

A soft knock on the door and Harrie entered with her old black leather doctor’s bag filled with homeopathic remedies.

"Good Goddess. That bastard," she ground the words out, shaking her head.

Talia handed me a mirror and I sat up slowly. I was sore from not having had sex for so long. Angling the mirror, I saw what they saw. Black and blue marks. And massacred flesh at the entrance to my womb. I looked away but not at them.

"Not just there. Look at your shoulders. Look at your breasts," Talia instructed, her voice terse and disapproving.

Harrie was rummaging in her bag. "Why didn’t you say so? Damnit." She pulled out a small brown vial and tapped out a single white pellet. "Take this. Arnica. I want you on it all day, every hour. Hold it. Even holding it, you’ll get the vibrational healing energy."

I’d heard this all before. I understand the premise of homeopathic remedies. I just don’t understand what happened to my body. How I could let this happen. Again. Closing my eyes, I dropped my chin to my chest, ashamed. I opened them to see my damaged flesh and jerked my head up.

"Now this. Ledum for the battering. You probably need Ruta and…" she let out a great sigh. "That asshole. You’ll need something else, I have to think about it. Maybe Pulsatilla. Dannah, I’m so sorry."

"But it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let him in my house."

"I know. You can’t backtrack and undo the past. We’ve all done things that didn’t suit our best interests." Talia was futzing with vials. "I want you to take some western meds too to support your system." She glanced challengingly at Harrie. "My call. Our patient. Remember what we agreed?" Talia interlaced her fingers. "Western meds interwoven with alternatives. Finding the balance to best suit the patient."

We all remembered, I’m sure. It is an endless battle those two wage and I get to play devil’s advocate and provoke them both.

Harrie nodded and pulled out a tube of cream. "Traumeel cream. It will help the bruising. Would have helped if you’d gotten it on right away." Carefully she began to apply it, starting at my head and working down.

"My head?" I yanked up the mirror and didn’t see anything.

"There, there, lassie, it’s okay. You’re still in shock." Harrie was crooning her Scottish accent, murmuring gently as she worked her way down to my ankles.

Talia stepped to the door, and opened it, signaling her medical assistant Caroline.

"Bring the digital," Talia said.

Caroline, always on the edge of our circle, was a friend. I trusted her but still felt uncomfortable. She entered quietly, with the small digital camera.

"Full body shot, limb shots and tight shots," Talia instructed. Caroline followed directions. I tried to ignore her.

I didn’t realize how sore I was all over. I forced my fingers through my unruly hair and found the tender spot on the side of my head. Oh, yeah. My hair. I leaned back on the exam table. Caroline took more pictures.

"He doesn’t like my hair short. Said I looked like a dyke." Images of the previous evening kept blinking in and out, like puzzle pieces. "He grabbed my hair and shook my head…" Tears puddled in my eyes.

"Where was Half Moon during all this?" Harrie asked about my beloved cat.

"Half Moon." Jerking up from the table, I tossed the disposable sheet aside and stood, pulling off my gown. "I have to find her. He threw her out. I never let her out at night. Shit. What if an owl got her? Or ?" Great horned owls were still known to capture small animals on the outskirts of Fondis. Even though I lived near downtown, I was careful with sweet baby cat who I called Moonie.

"Dannah. Calm down." Harrie reached for my arm and I flung it aside, grabbing my jeans.

"I don’t think I’ll be calm for some time. I’ve got to find my cat."

Talia and Harrie exchanged a glance.

"Dannah, here are your prescriptions. Go to My Pharmacy on Main Street. I’ll let them know to put it on my account." Talia was all business, staying in the doctor mode. That was good. I didn’t want sympathy now. I think they both knew that. Harrie handed me my tee shirt.

"Here, put these in your pocket. I’ll remind you when to take them. You’re riding with me."

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot. My car is at your house."

Harrie brushed at my dirty tee shirt unsuccessfully. "We will leave your car there in case Mr. Abusive comes back. Loren will take care of it. And I know just the place to go. Talia, can you meet us after work at the Body, Mind and Spirit Spa?"

"Harrie, I have to go home. I have to look for Moonie," I insisted.

"We’ll go there right now."

"Be careful. He may be lurking around still," Caroline said, knowingly. I forgot that she’d had a bad incident a few years ago.

"Thanks, Caroline." I looked her in the eyes and found compassion. I wasn’t quite so embarrassed.

H

Chapter III

Harrie obsessed over her car as much as her house. It looked and smelled brand new even though she’d driven it for a couple of years. I stamped the soles of my Birkenstocks together to get rid of whatever might cling and swiveled into the passenger seat, noting how my tender parts were connected to my feet.

"Let’s do lunch, Dannah. You must be starved," Harrie said as she pulled into traffic.

"I have to find Half Moon first. I can fix something at my place," I volunteered wondering what I had left in the turnabout kitchen area besides an empty bottle of wine and the dregs of a cracker box. I’d tossed the peanut butter jar.

"We’ll find your puss in boots, Sweetie, but then I’m taking you out to lunch. Someplace where the thug won’t find us," she stated.

"Don’t you have any clients today?"

"I had one this afternoon but I re-scheduled. Don’t worry about it." Harrie knew all the back routes to take to avoid mid day traffic jams in Fondis and soon we pulled up next to the Coop, little but well loved. Hollyhocks tilted in awkward directions, the flowers still persisting even after last week’s snow. The zinnias lay flat, giving up when only a memory summer’s heat remained.

The Colonel stepped out of the big house and waved, his white undershirt tucked precisely in his old army pants. His posture, military straight, defied his age, in his 70s, I guessed.

The door to the Coop was ajar and I frowned. Harrie followed me inside. I gasped at the disarray. I wasn’t as tidy as Harrie but in a small place I had to figure out a place for everything. Nothing was in its place.

"Oh my God." I gasped, looking from place to place.

"He must have been looking for money," Harrie deduced.

"Oh, no," I groaned. I stepped into the larger area, not really a room, but my general living area and looked at the easel. The painting was gone, the easel tipped aside. At least it wasn’t broken. My eyes searched everywhere amongst my scattered possessions. It wasn’t to be seen.

Harrie was folding towels and picking things up and putting them back.

"I wouldn’t do that," the Colonel’s voice barked from the door. "Evidence. I called the police. Some young hoodlum went bezerk in here."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "Or was it someone you knew, Dannah?"

I gulped and cast my eyes away from his. The old Colonel was a father figure to me and I hated to disappoint him, to let him know what I’d done.

"Zip, huh?" He’d been there for me then, and helped me out by letting me rent this place. If I was late on rent, or missed a month, he let me run errands or some such to pay it off. I dropped my chin.

Cars jerked to a stop outside.

"That must be the MP," he said.

The next half hour filled with questions by uniformed officers, a representative from Fondis Family Counseling and Talia’s lawyer who advised me to say nothing. The Colonel stood by my side, occasionally putting his arm around me. Harrie kept wanting to know when she could clean up.

When the photographer from the Fondis Daily News showed up, the Colonel urged me up to the big house.

"I can’t. I have to find Half Moon," I said, pulling back.

"Don’t worry, little lady. That cat of yours is sippin’ milk right now in my kitchen. When I saw what had happened in your house, I scooped him up and settled him in my kitchen. My housekeeper Sari is cooing and pettin’ him plenty. Oh, yes, I left your door open just like I found it. I watch enough cop shows to know not to destroy any evidence. Now come along, and join us." Sari had been the house keeper since "long before the Misses passed." She still looked after the Colonel. And sometimes me.

Harrie shook her head. "I have to get her out of here, Colonel. Take her to lunch someplace where that scoundrel won’t find us."

"Harrie, I have to see my keekat." They both nodded and we followed the Colonel through the rose garden to the back steps of the old Victorian mansion.

Moonie was curled in the full, round lap of Sari Thompson, kneading and purring. He didn’t even look up at me.

"Well, I can see he’s happy enough. Silly cat. You scared me. I was worried about you." He closed his eyes, typically ungrateful for my concern. I suddenly remembered him hissing at Zip last night. Good kitty. If only I’d paid more attention to his instincts. I wasn’t even tuned into my own, let alone his.

"We’ll take good care of that cat of yours, young lady. You and Harrie go on along now and have lunch. I’d have Sari make you up somethin’ but I imagine you want to talk things over. And I’ll let you know if I see hide nor hair of that good for nothin’." The Colonel’s deep voice reassured me.

I rubbed my fingers along Moonie’s spine. His purr deepened. Harrie grabbed my hand and we slipped out the back door.

"First things first. We’ll go eat. Then I’ll help you get the Coop cleaned up," Harrie said. "Remind me to get those ice packs from the cooler in my car. Talia wants you to use them on and off all day." I’d forgotten.

H

I loved eating at the Lady of the Lake with the elegant views of Lake Fondis from every table. The restaurant wrapped around a curve in the lake, full windows looking out on a one eighty. My favorite lunch place but not one I indulged in myself. Too pricey.

"Weird. I’m not very hungry," I admitted as I opened the menu.

"Your body needs sustainance," Harrie scolded. "Start with some soup."

That sounded good and I ordered the special of the week, pumpkin soup. Harrie went for clam chowder. She pointed out a red tail hawk circling on a thermal over the lake.

I turned just as Sassy Cambridge came out of the kitchen with Marc Heidlebrau, the head chef. I waved and they came over to our table.

"Harrie. Dannah. Good to see you. It’s been too long," Sassy leaned over and hugged each of us.

I was tuning into my body more. Even a hug made me wince.

"Have you met Marc?"

"I’m Harrie," she said, sticking our her hand. "We’ve all heard about you. Is Sassy interviewing you?"

"I am glad to move to Fondis and such a fine kitchen," he said in a slight accent I couldn’t place. "My pleasure to meet two beautiful friends of Sassy."

"Yes, I got the scoop of the week when I was assigned my interview with Marc." Sassy beamed. Sassy was back at the daily newspaper after a stint in New York. I wondered if she was really happy to be back and what the story behind all that was. We’d all been in a womyn’s group together but we took the summer off and hadn’t seemed to be able to get back on track. I wanted to be in the group again.

"Say, Harrie, Dannah, I talked to Vivian last night. She’s going to call everyone and get the group back together," Sassy said like she was reading my mind.

"Great," Harrie said.

I nodded.

"See you soon." Sassy followed Marc toward the lobby of the restaurant and Harrie and I turned to the bowls of hot soup being served.

"Take some more Arnica." Harrie reminded me.

H

Chapter IV

"Harrie, I’m worried about your house," I muttered as the three of us eased into Talia’s hot tub.

"Don’t worry, Dannah," Talia said. "I called my brother." Tucker Master was a sargeant on the local police force and read the report about how my house had been vandalized. "He’ll keep an eye out on the Coop and on Harrie’s place. Well, several men will be patrolling is what he said."

I relaxed into the hot water, letting my body begin to relax for the first time that day. I’d taken all the meds and remedies recommended but had been jumpy and kept looking for Zip out of the corner of my eye whenever I thought I might relax.

The hot tub sat in the middle of a tile court yard. Ferns and well tended plants softened the edges between the tile and the stone wall. A large statue of an angel stood in the center of a fountain, surrounded by a pond with koi.

"Doctor Masters, it is for you," Regina, Talia’s house assistant, came to the side of the hot tub with the cordless phone. Talia nodded, ascended the steps, her body bare and gleaming in the moonlight. She wrapped a plush velvet robe of purple around her body and took the phone.

"Oh, hi, honey. No. That’s okay. Harrie and Dannah are spending the night. We’re lounging in the hot tub right now. Where are you?"

Talia’s husband William Todd Robertson, CEO of some international corporate conglomerate, spent more time in airplanes than he ever did in Fondis. It seemed to suit Talia who was so busy with her practice that she said she didn’t notice. Regina tended to all the house details and her husband Leonardo, a martial arts expert and gardener, took care of everything else. The couple lived in the gate cottage, grateful for jobs in the states and made enough money to send back to family in Guatemala.

"William says ‘hi’," Talia said, shedding the robe and stepping back into the hot tub. "He’s in South Africa now and will fly to Japan tomorrow. He thinks he’ll be home for Thanksgiving. I hope you both will join us here. Actually I think you better stay here for a while, Dannah."

"You know I like the Coop. I think it will be okay. And besides, I’ll miss Half Moon. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer." I smiled. "What would I do without you two? Thanks for everything." The knot in my throat was much smaller now.

"Look. Orion," Harrie said, pointing. I leaned my head against the side of the tub and gazed at the diamond bright stars, at the constellations and thought my problems minimal.

H

Chapter V

"I could have stayed in the hot tub all night," I sighed as I stretched my feet out on a velvet ottoman and gazed through floor to ceiling windows at the twinkling lights of Fondis in the distance. Talia’s house, a glass and steel palace on the bluffs above town always felt like a treat.

"I know," Talia said from a chaise near the wood burning stove. "I just didn’t want you to be in hot water that long."

Harrie lounged on the sofa, leaning over to scratch Pooh’s ears. Pooh, a Rhodesian ridgeback, had been such a cute little bear puppy. Now he was a dog to be reckoned with and I felt safe with him here.

Regina moved silently across the plush teal carpet, carrying a tray with a teapot and three cups and saucers.

"Thank you, Regina," Talia said. "That will be all for tonight. Please thank Leonardo for hiring a friend to take the night shift." She smiled and squeezed Regina’s hand.

"You both really think he’s going to do something crazy?" I pushed myself out of the deep chair and sauntered over to warm my backside at the fire.

"Dannah, he is out of control," Harrie snapped.

"I’ve always thought he appeared to have bi-polar tendencies. I just don’t think we should take any chances. Don’t worry about it," Talia spoke quietly.

"Talia, do you have any cards?" Harrie asked suddenly.

Stretching to reach a small drawer in the lamp table, Talia pulled out a worn deck of tarot cards.

"You know I don’t put much faith in that airy fairy stuff," I hedged, thinking they wanted to convince me by some hocus pocus from a bunch of cards.

"Faith is not required, dear friend," Harrie said and grinned at me.

Talia handed her the deck., getting up to open another drawer set in the bookshelves. She snaked out a large square of purple silk and gracefully placed it on the floor. The tree of us sat in a triangle around the silk.

"William calls this my witchy room but he even comes in here for readings upon occasion." Talia laughed.

"After all, Dannah, this is Fondis. Did you see the story about the Fondis faeries in the National Inspirer?"

I shook my head. Most of the women in our group talked about all this new agey stuff but I really didn’t have time to indulge in that. I was busy keeping my head above water, paying the bills and painting. Lots of people said my paintings were very spiritual. I always say, whoever buys it can believe it is about whatever they want. Just pay me. Damn Zip. He must have taken my painting of the airplane. I’d hoped to show it to a lawyer who saw my work at the last Fondis Bank Art Festival. I’d seen that painting in a dream and told him about it. He wanted to see the finished product. I was hoping to pay next month’s rent with the proceeds.

Harrie poked me and I jumped. "Where did you wander off to? Oh. Sorry about the poke. You’re no fun. All bruised." She leaned over and quickly air kissed my shoulder.

Talia left the room and quickly returned with another ice pack. "This will help. We do have to remember to tend to you, Sweet Pea." She handed me the ice pack and crossed her feet, sinking gracefully into the lotus position.

"You don’t mind if I use your deck?" Harrie asked. Talia shook her head. Harrie shuffled, blew through the cards and cut the deck. Lifting the pile to the left, she laid out cards face down.

I squirmed. I couldn’t get comfortable on the floor. My aches and pains were more pronounced. Talia glanced at me and rose, walking to her bed to pull open a drawer beneath the flounce.

"Here, Dannah. Put this down body pillow under you and maybe that will help make you comfortable." I stood, sank to my knees and crawled up the soft surface to stretch on my belly. Maybe this would be more comfy.

"Okay. All settled? I’m going by impulse here. I’m going to lay out two lines of cards. One for you and one for Zip."

"I don’t even want to think about him," I protested.

"But he did get you in this mess, little one. Well, you cooperated in the beginning and he certainly had the last word. We need to get some perspective here. So, this card is you. This one, Zip. Under you is how you feel now. The same for how he feels. This is the action that will be taken." She set out two more cards. "And this is the final result."

I rolled onto my right side and noted that it seemed to be the only place that there were no bruises.

"This is you," Harrie said, turning over the card to reveal a blind folded woman holding two swords. "Wow. You can’t see where you’re going. You’re feeling unbalanced by the wait of the swords. Uncertainty abounds. You have difficult decisions to make yet you have the tools to make them."

"She’s feeling overwhelmed," Talia continued. "And she’s suppressing her feelings," she said looking directly at me. "You feel unable to make a move, any move."

"Well, why don’t I just take off the blind fold and use the swords?" I asked in a somewhat snotty tone.

"Exactly," they both said. That eased the tension and we all laughed. I hated it when they examined me and yet I knew they were trying to help.

"Now, let’s take a look at Zip." She flipped the card to reveal beggars in front of a church window.

Weird. I wondered what they’d say now.

"Zip is full of troubles. He’s out of money, doesn’t have a home, feels like he has to beg. He’s depressed," Harrie tone held her contempt for the man.

"It supports my sense of his imbalance. He’s out in the cold and thought to use you to save himself. The only person that can save him is himself," Talia said, peering at the card "I guess the most important thing I get from this is that he will only use you."

Harrie turned over the next card of a man leaning against a tree. He looked grumpy. There were cups nearby.

"He feels dissatisfied and bored. We already see that he has no money but he has no ambition. He doesn’t know how to focus and pull his life together. He’s in a rut and he resents it and everyone else."

"He’s very withdrawn, Dannah. You can’t help him. Do you know that?" Talia’s voice sounded far away.

"This is how you feel," Harrie captured my attention again. "The Nine of Wands. You are protected, surrounded by wands. You must stand your ground and know that you can create anything you want. But you must protect yourself. Be able to resist attack."

They still thought Zip was out to get me. They were making more out of this than I wanted. At least they hadn’t talked about making a police report regarding rape.

"Dannah, you’re drifting. We’ll put you on the bed and do some energy work in just a minute," Talia said. I think this is very beneficial. This card shows great inner strength and an ability to take care of yourself. You will have to rely on your own strength even though Harrie and I are here for you." Talia touched my hand and gave me a reassuring look.

They flipped some more cards and I heard their voices but couldn’t track the words. The pictures on the cards blurred and I closed my eyes.

I felt them both lift me, steadying me with their arms around my waist. "She’s exhausted," one of the whispered.

"Um hmm. Good. She’ll relax and get some sleep. Put her in the middle of the bed. I’ll work on her head." I sank into soft flannel sheets under down comforters.

"Yes. I’ll do energy work from her feet." I felt the weight shift on the bed as my best friends crawled around. I just wanted to forget everything and drift off to sleep.

H

Chapter VI

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God," I screamed as the swords flew through the air. I dove to the ground and huddled in a ball, hearing them slash and strike. Lightning bolts shattered the night. I knew I was going to die. Zip’s sword ripped through the airplane painting. I could hear fierce growling. I kicked and swung my arms to protect myself.

"Dannah, Dannah. It’s okay, honey. We’re right here. Wake up, Dannah." Harrie’s voice finally broke through the nightmare that sat on my head like a snarling beast.

The last thing I remember was a warm buzzing feeling with Talia and Harrie touching my head and feet. I must have fallen into a pit of swords in my dreams. I forced my eyes open to see Talia’s beautiful bedroom. She was stroking my hair and chanting softly.

My heart pounded fiercely. Drenched in sweat, I shivered. The red silk nightgown Talia had given me clung to my skin.

Pooh Dog paced across the closed bedroom door, growling.

"And you wanted to stay alone at the Coop tonight, silly girl," Harrie chided softly. "C’mon. Let’s take a walk. The three of us clambered out of Talia’s huge bed. Walking with arms around me, they guided me to the kitchen. Pooh followed, alert, the ridge along his spine at attention.

"Cocoa or chamomile tea?" Talia asked.

I wrinkled my nose.

"Oh, I remember, picky one. No chamomile."

By the time she served me a cup of hot cocoa, I was wide awake.

"I haven’t had a nightmare in years. Guess I am pretty freaked out. I’m sorry to get you up in the middle of the night." Tears leaked uninvited from the corners of my eyes.

"Most people in shock think they’re okay," Talia reported, giving me time to sniffle and wipe my nose with the tissue Harrie handed me.

"Silly me. I didn’t notice."

"That’s better. A little cryptic humor returns. Chocolate to the rescue," Harrie said.

"Here, Pooh puppy," Talia said taking a dog treat from a cookie jar. The dog ignored it, facing the back door.

"What’s up, Pooh? You want to go out and chase a squirrel?" Talia asked.

The chicken coop would fit in Talia’s kitchen times five. Or more. I glanced around at the stainless steel surfaces, the granite counters, the recessed lighting, hanging pots, and center island. I could paint up a storm in a corner here. But I’d leave the cooking to Regina.

As if on cue, Regina ran through the back door, eyes wide in her pretty brown face. "Doktora, doktora, esta Leonardo." There was blood on her pink nightgown, terror in her face.

We all jumped to our feet and ran toward the back door. Pooh barked.

"No," Regina said, pointing at me.

She probably meant it for the best but I’d be damned if I’d be left behind if Leonardo needed help. I couldn’t imagine what happened but six hands were better than four. I wasn’t going to stay in the kitchen.

Harrie grabbed my arm. "We’ll let them go first. But you stay with me."

"I’m fine, Harrie. C’mon. Leonardo needs help." I pulled away, running after Talia and Regina.

Harrie grabbed me again, harder and spun me around. "Stop, Dannah," she hissed. "This might be a set up. What if Zip is out there in a fowl mood just waiting for you?"

"But…" I didn’t have any follow up. I actually hadn’t even thought of that. Harrie guided me off the path and through the bushes until we could see the gatehouse. Talia was on her knees, examining someone, Leonardo, I assumed. I could hear her ordering an ambulance on her cell. I guess a doctor sleeps with one but I didn’t even know where mine was.

Clouds scudded across the moon and dark shadows sliced from the bright night lights at the gate. I shivered. I could hear Pooh barking.

The next half hour was a maze of activity with police, ambulances and an air life helicopter. Leonardo left in the ambulance, with Regina close at his side. His friend Virgil, the extra night guard was airlifted out—Talia in attendance. The cops took an impression of shoe prints, thinking they matched ones at the Coop. Zip really was crazy if he did this. Search parties fanned out from Talia’s palace in search of the vandal.

I shivered on the sidelines. It could have been me, or Talia or Harrie. A car pulled in and an officer stopped it. I could hear the harsh voice of authority questioning the driver. Who was visiting Talia in the middle of the night?

I watched a tall, masculine figure step out of the car, hands raised. There were too many lights and I just watched the silhouette being frisked.

"Dannah? Are you okay?"

I recognized the deep, resonate voice and ran forward, flinging myself into Loren’s arms, sobbing. Harrie was right behind me and the three of us hugged. He straightened his shoulders, looking around.

"They seem to have this handled. Let’s go inside," Loren said, all masculine.

"Not without a police escort," a voice said. "Sergeant Master said I was to stay with you. Deputy Scott. Marshall Scott." He shook Loren’s hand and pointed to the open gate that led through the back gardens to the kitchen. Pooh walked in stride with me.

"Loren. I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about it this morning." I sniffled, shivering as potato chip sized flakes floated to the ground. I wondered if snow would make it easier or harder to track the culprit. Colder, at least. I still couldn’t believe Zip was behind all this.

Loren squeezed my hand.

"It wasn’t the right time. I’m here now."

H

Back in Talia’s bedroom, Harrie squatted to pull open the door to the wood burning stove. She crumpled newspapers into tight balls and layered them, adding kindling, not randomly but what seemed to be a specific pattern. I paced, still shivering.

"Come. Sit by me." He was all Lauren now, his voice soft and sweet, as he patted the place next to him on the sofa.

"How do you do that?" I asked as I plopped now next to him.

"Do what, honey?" He snuggled his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him.

"You know. Go from big strong guy to safe, soft woman?"

He squeezed my arm and I flinched.

"He hurt you." It wasn’t a question. "Sometimes, Dannah, it’s good to be a guy. If I ever see him, he won’t be thinking of me as a nightclub performer." His jaw hardened under my hand.

"I don’t want you to be hurt," I murmured, stroking his smooth skin. I went with him once when he had an electrolysis session and admired his willingness to walk in two worlds. It wasn’t easy.

"Remember—."

"I remember," I said, interrupting him. I’d gone to a zillion martial arts tournaments and watched him win.

The fire crackled and burned beautifully as Harrie closed and secured the door. "Hungry? Thirsty?" she asked, turning toward us. She’d pulled on a pair of jeans sometime since my nightmare but still wore the borrowed silk nightie.

I shook my head.

"Water. We all need water," Lauren said.

"Righto. I’ll be right back." Harrie pulled a soft fleece coverlet off the chaise and tucked it around me before leaving.

"Okay, Sweetie. Give me the capsule version. You can fill in the details later." Lauren stroked my arm gently this time and I told him what had occurred in the last twenty four hours.

Sergeant Scott opened the door. Harrie entered, carrying a tray with four glasses of water, a plate of sliced apples and chunks of cheese and a silver bowl of chocolates.

"The house is all secured," Sergeant Marshall Scott said. "I checked all the windows and doors and repaired the alarm system which had been disengaged outside." He strode to the drapery and opened them wide, inspecting the lock on the sliding door.

"Here, take this," Harrie instructed, opening a homeopathic vial and tapping a single pellet into the lid. I opened my mouth, curling my tongue back. "Aconite. For seeing the unacceptable. And shock."

"Sergeant, here, have some water," Lauren said, joining the officer as he stared out the window. "It’s good for you, especially when the adrenaline is pumping."

"Thanks. Please call me Marshall."

I stood, stretching, and walked to the table where Harrie had placed the tray. I reached for a chunk of cheese automatically before grabbing a piece of chocolate and laughed.

"What?" Harrie asked.

"Talia has me well trained. Cheese before chocolate. I never completely understand the protein ratio thing she talks about but I’m willing to do it." After the cheese, I bit into a dark chocolate truffle and sighed.

"Depends on your belief system," Harrie touted one of her pet phrases.

"And mine says chocolate is a food group," I countered. I think we’d had the conversation before. We both laughed. The men stood looking out at the snow covered panorama of Fondis down in the valley. Lauren, still in his soft feminine mode, pointed out various locations to the policeman who stood at attention, nodding. I gulped down my glass of water, thirstier than I thought.

"Sit on the chaise, and I’ll do your feet," Harrie instructed.

"Chocolate and a foot rub. My life must be blessed." I stretched out, pulling the blanket around my shoulders as Harrie settled to work the reflex points on my feet.

Lauren’s cell phone jangled out a tune from "Cabaret" and he flipped it open. "What’s up, Doc?" He sounded like Bugs Bunny. Marshall Scott laughed. I grinned. Harrie shook her head.

Lauren’s face was still as he listened, nodded and handed the phone to Harrie. Harrie, in stoic mode, gave no clues as to what she was hearing. I looked to Lauren to see if he’d tell me but he’d turned his back to the room and was whispering to the sergeant.

Harrie closed the phone quietly. "That was Talia. She’s still at the hospital. Leonardo is doing fine. Needed a few stitches. They’ll release him in the morning after observation. They had to give Regina a sedative."

"And Leonardo’s friend Virgil?"

"Critical condition. He’s in surgery now. Internal damage."

"What else? What aren’t you telling me?" I could tell from the expressions on everyone’s faces that something else was wrong. "What? They found Zip?"

"Yes, Dannah." She put a hand on my knee. "He must have headed straight down the hill after he left here. Stark naked, by the way. He ran across the first curve at the base of the bluff and collided with a truck." She stopped, patting my knee.

I stared, waiting, knowing, not accepting.

"Dannah, he didn’t make it. It was quick. He died immediately. He didn’t suffer."

"Stupid idiot," I screamed, jumping up. "Goddamn asshole idiot." I kept screaming, running across the room and turning. Finally the sergeant grabbed me and held me. Lauren came and put his arms around me.

"It’s okay, honey."

"It’s not okay. What about the driver of the truck? Was he hurt? I can’t believe Zip hurt so many people. Fucking jerk."

Lauren and Harrie exchanged a glance.

"What?" I screamed.

"The driver is fine," Lauren said.

"The Colonel is in the hospital."

I stopped, my hands covering my mouth as the realization settled into some kind of logic in my brain.

"The Colonel is…?" I said quietly.

"He was doing fine. They stitched up a gash on his arm and were going to send him home. Then he had a heart attack. He’s in surgery right now."

"We have to go. Now." I said.

"I’ll drive," Harrie said, following me down the hall to the coat closet.

"I’ll stay here with the sergeant in case Talia needs to know what’s happening here. She said she couldn’t get through on either of your cell phones," Lauren said. I turned to hug him and he kissed the top of my head. "Take care, little one."

"My cell is in the car," Harrie said.

"I don’t have a clue where mine is." I zipped up the down jacket that Harrie had borrowed from the coat closet. She flung her cloak around her shoulders, elegant even in an emergency.

"Call me if you need anything," Harrie shot over her shoulder as Lauren and the sergeant closed the back gate.

H

Chapter VIII

"Did you catch some vibes between Lauren and the cop?" I asked as Harrie headed down the steep, curving road.

"You betcha. I think Marshall Scott likes our boy. I’m not sure if it’s a good match but time will tell. How are you doing?"

"Fine." I wiped tears with the back of my hand. "I’m worried about the Colonel." I sniffed.

"Tissues in that compartment between our seats. He’s in the best cardiac unit in the state. He’s got a very strong constitution. I think he’ll be fine." Harrie braked as a deer leapt down the slope, almost crashing into our vehicle. He ran across the road, the headlights illuminating his grace, antlers collecting snow.

"Shit," Harrie hissed. "That was close."

"Close calls seem to be what’s up tonight," I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. "Good driving, Harrie."

"Helps to have a good car, too." Harrie could be surprisingly modest at times. "You know, I should have figured this out long ago. Zip could have used Hyoscyamus."

I was used to her random inserts of homeopathic jargon. I just wasn’t at all sure I was ready to talk about Zip. Maybe she needed to, though. "What do you mean?"

"Remember earlier today when Talia said he was bi-polar."

"Yeah. He’d never been diagnosed but he sure was moody, up and down and a little crazed in between. When I first knew him, it seemed exciting. I think he’s always been that way, just a little more whacked in the last few years," I said. "Jumpy, you know. Then he’d get that tick in his face and I could hardly look at him."

"Involuntary motor motions. One of the symptoms of Hyoscyamus.

Plus I’ve seen him pick at his clothes."

"Oh, God, yes. It made me crazy. There wasn’t any lint or cat fur or anything, and he’d be absently picking at his clothes. It was like he couldn’t stop. I complained about it once. It was one of the first times he hit me." I pressed my lips together, abhorring the memory.

"It’s called carphology, that absent picking of the clothing. It’s more common in older people but he had plenty of symptoms adding up. When you left him, we were all focused on you. I see more of his patterns now. At least you won’t have to worry about Zip showing up unexpectedly anymore," she said.

"Except in my mind," I lamented, knowing it would take a long time to be rid of him and the anger I felt.

"Honey, you’ll have to go back into counseling." Harrie reached across and held my chilled hand. I forgot to borrow gloves.

"I know."

H

"Hi, Betty," Harrie said as we rounded the nurse’s station by the critical care unit. Betty, the head night nurse, looked up and smiled.

"I’ve been expecting you two. You doin’ okay, Dannah?"

I nodded, pressed my lips toward a smile I didn’t feel.

"Dr. Master was just here. Colonel Klaus just came out of surgery. You won’t be able to see him for a while."

Again I nodded. I followed Harrie to the waiting area and sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair. I got up, paced the area and started walking down the darkened hall. And back again. First light shown through the hospital windows. I stopped, staring without seeing at the western end of Fondis, slowly coming to life after the night’s snow.

A street car glided out of the hospital station toward the Senior Metroplex which housed the elderly and people of all ages who were financially unable to put a roof over their heads. I lived there for a few months when Zip ruined our lives with his erratic behavior, bad gambling debts and scams. I liked the Metro. There were people from all walks of life. One section was set up to handle people from other states when there was a disaster. Nellie came here after the hurricanes hit the gulf coast. Now she’s in charge of the unit and runs it very efficiently. FEMA has tried to hire her several times but she stays put. Fondis saved her when FEMA wouldn’t and now she wants to help others in the same way.

Since then, I’d done a lot of things to make a living. Plus volunteering. I figured it I could give back to my community for helping me out, it would all turn around. In some ways it did. I was delivering Meals on Wheels when I met the Colonel. We took to each other right away. After a while, I’d deliver his meal last and stay and visit. That’s when he offered me the Coop. He said I reminded him of his daughter who died when she was twenty. So he became my surrogate father and I was his surrogate daughter.

"Dannah," Talia spoke softly, touching my elbow.

Abruptly I turned around. "Is he okay?"

"Yes. You can go in and see him now. He’s not conscious and won’t respond but you can see him. And talk to him. He’ll know you’re talking to him even when he can’t talk back."

I followed blindly down several corridors, twisting and turning and no longer knowing where I was.

"I’ll wait out here. Let me know if you need anything." Talia stepped aside and I pushed open the door.

Colonel Marcus Klaus was hooked up to tubes and monitors and looked like a paper cut out of himself. Pale and lifeless. His cheeks sank in, a few white strands of hair twisted astray. Even his ears seemed to sag.

"Colonel. It’s me. Dannah." I watched the rise and fall of his chest. I think he took a deeper breath when I talked to him.

"I’m so sorry this happened. I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me. Not any more. Did they tell you Zip is dead? So he can’t hurt you anymore." I paused. I think his lips moved.

"You’re going to be fine. You picked a good place to have that good ol’ ticker of yours checked. They say you’re as good as new. Maybe even better." Shit. I didn’t know what to say to him. But you might as well think you’re going to get better.

"I know you can’t talk to me right now. But I can talk for both of us. You know you changed my life. I really didn’t have much regard for men until I met you. You know my old man left my mom before I was four. I really don’t remember him." I leaned a hip unto the edge of the bed.

"Does that bother you?" I touched his long, bony fingers. "I don’t know why I even married Zip but it became apparent all too soon that he wasn’t the best thing for me. My counselor at Metro said he was toxic for me. Guess he was toxic for a bunch of people. Both Talia and Harrie say he was bi-polar. What did your generation call it? Manic depressive? Well, he was both."

His lips lifted ever so slightly.

"I saw that. You can hear me. I knew you could. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You gave me a second chance when there wasn’t one." I slipped my hand under his, holding it.

"I’m sorry I let you down. I shouldn’t have ever let Zip in my house again. He played me for the fool I was. I’ll never forgive him for hurting you. I’m so sorry."

He squeezed my hand ever so slightly.

"See. You’re getting better by the minute. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of having a daddy that would read to me. I loved it when I delivered meals to you while Sari was back east taking care of her sister. You’d read Shakespeare to me and it made sense. Remember that big snow storm a couple of years back and you started reading Dicken’s "Oliver Twist" and then we all took parts, Sari Thompson, you and me. That was the best snowstorm ever."

The old man opened his watery blue eyes briefly. I leaned forward. "I remember," he whispered.

H

Harrie went home to feed her cats. Talia drove me by the Colonel’s place to check on Sari Thompson who seemed to have weathered the storm better than we all expected. Moonie seemed well fed and quite content. Talia insisted that I stay at the Palace for a few days. I was so tired, I didn’t care.

I crawled into her bed, still wearing a silk nightie, borrowed coat—and a pair of sweat pants I don’t remember putting on. Talia tucked me in and left to talk to Lauren and Sergeant whatshisname. I slept.

H

Some time later, Lauren nudged my shoulder. "Wake up, honey. Dinner’s ready. You’ve slept the day away."

I stirred. Every muscle in my body ached. I opened my eyes slowly and stared at him. "What?"

"Come have dinner with Talia and me and I’ll tell you good stories." He knew that would get my attention. I eased out of bed.

"They better be good."

I padded down the hall following Lauren to the formal dining room. The long polished table was set for three at one end. Talia sat in the queen’s seat. I eased into the chair on her left; Lauren took the one on the right.

"Formal?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Regina was so happy that Leonardo is fine that she had to cook something special. So, why not? I asked them to join us but she said it wasn’t proper. They’ll have their share in the kitchen. Leonardo said he was going to work on his katas starting tomorrow. He thinks he let me down. I told him he’d done his best. I called the hospital. Virgil will be fine. He needs a couple of weeks to fully recover. Then I’ll find him a permanent job. My insurance will cover his hospital expenses."

I nodded, and tasted the potato leek soup. "Delicious." I sighed.

"The sergeant finished his shift and another man took over," Lauren said. "They’re still going to keep a watch on the house for the next week in case Zip was in cahoots with somebody."

"Hey, weren’t you going to tell me a good story?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"Marshall, you know, the sergeant?"

"Um hmm. You got the hots for him?" I bit into a buttered biscuit.

"You’re no fun at all, Dannah. Was it that obvious."

"Um hmm," I said between bites. "Tell me all about it."

"He started it really. But can I resist a man in a uniform? Did you feel his biceps?"

"You did?"

"He stayed for a while after he got off duty." He smiled, or was it a smirk?

"So?"

"We have a date." He sat back, grinning and looked at his hands. "I need a new manicure. You know, I think he might be the one. Can you believe it? Me and a cop?"

All three of us laughed.

"What should I wear? Oh, I don’t have anything. Want to go shopping, Dannah?"

"Get a grip, Lauren. You know I hate to shop. Ask the fashion queen, here."

Talia shrugged a shoulder. "Lauren, you can check out my closet and save the hassle of shopping. I have more clothes than I’ll ever wear and we might find something lovely. You know William always buys me clothes. I think they will fit you. I have a whole section of evening wear."

Lauren’s eyes glowed. "Really? Oh, Talia, you are such a sweetheart. When? Tonight?"

"Of course. We’ll have dessert in my clothes room."

"To die for, eh? A clothes room." Lauren took a sip of white wine and smiled.

Regina entered carrying a platter of beef wellington, surrounded by baby red potatoes. Leonardo followed with vegetables.

"Leonardo, I’m so sorry," I began, not knowing what to say.

"Senorita, not to worry. I am good." He smiled and left the room.

I was full from the soup and picked at the main course, still tired, but enjoying Lauren’s excitement.

"Regina, please serve dessert in the clothes closet," Talia said.

Regina nodded with no facial expression of surprise.

H

Talia placed a velvet beanbag chair under the skylight for me and I sank into the lush soft burgundy fabric, thinking I might spend the night there. Stars shone through the window above. Lauren and Talia were walking up and down the aisles, with Talia commenting on colors that would compliment Lauren’s complexion.

Regina placed a very small round table next to me. The two other tables she sat at the end of the room. When she returned with homemade triple layered chocolate cake, I sighed.

"Gracias," I said.

My perfect meal. I slid the sterling silver fork into the cake and slowly took a bite. It melted in my mouth. I had the best friends ever. I blew Regina a kiss and she laughed, making a hand gesture that said, oh, it was nothing.

Lauren came swirling out in an elegant ocean blue dress that clung in all the right places.

"Of course, I don’t have my bra on. Or my wig. But isn’t this scrumpious? Talia, you are such a doll."

"Lauren, there is total balance here. I was wondering what to do with all these clothes. I want you to take ten of your favorites. Then you can decide which one you like best when you have your foundation complete." She smiled. "And I want you to keep them. You look perfect. The size is right. The dresses are just a bit shorter on you."

Lauren was too stunned to speak. Instead he wept and hugged Talia.

I yawned. Talia turned to me and I could see she was drooping. She hadn’t slept at all.

"I need to get some sleep," she admitted, catching my eye. "And I think you do too. I want to check you first."

"Thank you, Talia. I have to go home. Wait ‘til I show Harrie." Lauren giggled, swooping the ten dresses off the rack that he’d considered and headed for the door.

"Night night," I murmured, going back to Talia’s bedroom and collapsing back into bed. I don’t remember when she joined me. I didn’t waken until dawn smiled brightly through the window.

H

"Off to work. Call if you need anything. Love, Talia"

Rolling out of bed, I headed for the bathroom to relieve my bladder and find a toothbrush. I studied the oversized bathtub with jets and decided what I’d do after breakfast.

A new toothbrush and a special homeopathic toothpaste sat next to the sink with a note. "From Harrie."

I wandered around the bathroom, scrubbing my teeth. Fresh lavender towels set on the counter next to what looked like a small round hat box. The sticky note on it said my name. Nice to find surprises when you wake up in the morning. I opened it eagerly and found lotions, perfume, eye shadow and mascara, lipstick and foundation. Talia knew me well. I smiled, pulled a terry cloth robe from a hook and headed for the kitchen.

Another note from Talia told me that Regina had gone shopping. If I needed anything, Leonardo would be outside. A packet of vitamins.

Filling the teakettle, I turned on the burner and found a tea cup. I opened and closed cupboards, wondering what to eat. The kettle whistled and I plunked a Red Zinger tea bag in the cup and poured the water. Finally I sliced a grapefruit in half and cut along each section, then sat at the counter and ate both halves. Opening a jar of chocolate biscotti, I selected one and closed it. Tea dunk, bite. Delicious. Repeat until sated.

I wandered back to the bathroom and started hot water, pouring in a dollop of bath oil. Life was pretty good. Unless you started to think about the details. I wouldn’t. I slipped into the tub and let the foamy water rise around my aching body. I didn’t have a job and the painting I was hoping to sell was missing. Maybe even destroyed if my dream were accurate. Mostly they aren’t, so I’m trusting that the painting will show up, that I can find the number of the guy who was interested in it and make a sale. That would carry me through the end of the month.

My body was bruised and hurting. Zip was dead so he couldn’t hurt me any more. But he hurt Leonardo and Virgil and God knows who else. And he was dead. That’s what he deserved. Poor guy. He really had a nice side to him. I don’t know what made him so crazy. When I got out of the marriage I thought I was free from his madness.

I slid my head back to wet my hair and lathered in shampoo. I wonder if his ex girl friend knows he’s dead. I can’t even remember where she lived. Was it New Mexico? Or Montana? I know he said but I can’t remember. She’d probably want to know he was dead. He probably hurt her too. I know there was an old letter that he wrote somewhere on my desk. Rinsing my hair under the faucet, I reached with eyes closed for the conditioner. Maybe she loved him. She’d want to know.

I soaped my legs and shaved slowly, wondering what she was like. I had to find her address. What was her name? Pearl? No, but a gem. Diamond? No. Amethyst. That was it. The last name still eluded me.

I had to get down the hill and to my house and check on it. Check on the Colonel. Would there be a funeral for Zip? Did I care? Who would go? Wouldn’t that be terrible to die and have no one show up at your funeral. Maybe that happened to really old, old people, the last ones of their generation to die. I wasn’t going to be like that. I’d keep making younger friends. I suddenly didn’t know if I was making sense. Who cared about funerals anyway. If you were dead, you were dead. You’d probably be chatting with angels with any luck and not notice who was at your funeral. All those folks still hampered by a body.

"Get a grip, girl," I said to my reflection in the mirror as I dried with a big soft towel. I needed more than a grip. I took a slow assessment of myself. Face: looked less tired than yesterday. Body: I hadn’t really seen the overall picture. Finger bruises on my arms where he’d shaken me; a bruise along the side of my neck, what? From hitting the bed post? Black and blue marks on my hip bones, belly. Inner thigh bruises going yellow-green. Bastard. He didn’t deserve a funeral.

My dear Talia left a pile of new, clean clothes for me. Long sleeves, long pants. That’s what I wanted to cover my body. I pulled on a cheery red turtleneck and a pair of black cords. White socks. Birkenstocks. Red down jacket and knit cap. I was good to go—but no vehicle.

I went in search of Leonardo who was pruning a bush on the south side of the wall that surrounded the palace. He told me Regina had taken the pick up truck and would be gone for the morning. I thanked him and wandered back to the fountain. I really had to get home. I could walk. It wouldn’t take that long. After all, it was all down hill. I could cut across Deirdre’s place and get a drink of water. A half hour after that I’d be in town. I was already walking along the north side of the wall as I worked out my plan. I wasn’t really avoiding Leonardo. I’d be back before anyone else, anyway.

H

"Oh, my God, Deirdre, this is crazy," I squealed, clutching her waist as we rode her donkey down the steep trail. A horse is a graceful ride, a Zen kind of thing where I let my body flow with the movement of the equine. A donkey is a jolt, an abrupt impact of short legs against hard ground, reverberating up into the groin of the rider.

"Really, Deirdre, I have to walk," I groaned.

"Relax. You’ll get used to the rhythm. It’s nothing like a unicorn, of course, but a donkey is a reliable mode of transportation, world wide."

"You don’t understand. I’m hurting."

She pulled the reins and Edgar Rice Burro halted, leaning down to munch a tuft of grass. I leapt off, hitting the earth hard but accepting the mercy of solid ground.

"What’s wrong, Dannah?"

"It’s a long story. Do you think I can walk along side, or maybe behind Edgar? Will that slow you down too much?" I glanced back up the steep trail and knew it was useless to back track. Towering Ponderosa pines lined the ravine we were transversing. Yuccas spiked the edge of the rough trail.

"What is time but a manmade concept? Edgar needs the exercise. We’ll walk ahead and he’ll follow." She slid to the ground with the grace of a ballerina.

I met Deirdre a few years ago in the Womyn’s Group and we’d been almost friends since then. I didn’t see her often because she lived up here on a ledge of the bluff in a yurt and I lived in town. But we’d always felt a kinship. I told her my story.

"We can leave Edgar at the stables on the edge of town. He has a girl friend, Jenny Jennet, there." She grinned. "I’m coming with you."

"Okay. We’ll catch the midtown bus and then walk over to the Coop." I suddenly felt a great release. I was glad to have company. I hadn’t talked to anyone but Leonardo and that wasn’t much of a conversation.

H

"I’m a little frazzled. I could have called to see if the Colonel was home from the hospital but I left my cell phone charging at Talia’s. I want to go check on him if he’s home," I explained to Deirdre as I headed up the path from the Coop to the old Victorian house.

Sari Thompson met us at the door. "Oh, he’s fine, girls. Come in for cookies and milk. He’s out for a walk around the park. You’d never know he had a run in with that scoundrel of yours." She frowned, perhaps aware of her error. If not, I was not going to let that slip.

"He’s not mine."

"Well, he was. Once. Sorry, dearie. I didn’t mean anything by it. Now, have some fresh chocolate chip cookies." Sari set out two small Spode plates and settled still gooey chocolate chip cookies on each. She scurried around, poured milk and settled on a stool to watch us eat. We did.

"Where’s Moonie? I miss my kitty cat." I looked at his favorite spot on the ledge of the kitchen window.

"Gone for a walk with the Colonel," Sari said easily.

"What? He could get lost? Cats don’t go for walks like dogs." Well, Moonie would follow me anywhere if I let him.

"Well, you know the Colonel misses that little ol’ dog of his. Stopped walking completely. He needs more exercise, ya know. So, I says, why don’t you walk the cat? He scoffed at first and I forgot about it. Next thing I know, he’s got the cat on a leash and they’re off for a jaunt around the block. Cat happy as anything. Colonel comes in with rosebuds in his cheeks. More cookies, girls."

I shook my head, for several reasons.

H

"Wow. Your place is great," Deirdre said, settling on the stool in my kitchen area. I was pretty amazed. Harrie had cleaned up and put an order to the place that I’d never had. I didn’t recognize the place.

"I’ll make us a cuppa tea," I said opening the narrow cupboard where…Nope. My tea was no longer there. The cups weren’t in their place. I couldn’t find anything. "Okay. Let me think. How would Harrie put it together?" The spices were alphabetized. "I haven’t had milk and cookies since I was a Girl Scout. Tea will be good." I grinned.

Eventually I found what I needed and Deirdre sat on the sofa/bed, sipping her tea.

"Do you have any paintings here?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Please show me," she urged.

That was all the incentive I needed. I slid a stack of 8 x 10s from under a little table. "These are impressions, moments I capture quickly." There were many angel paintings in various colors, shapes, positions, that I’d created as prototypes for the big painting I’d just finished. I explained the absence of my airplane/angel painting and Deirdre lamented her loss with me.

"Here," I said pulling out two 24 x 36 paintings, "are a couple yet to be framed. I have a show coming up in December at the Faerie Arts Gallery. Do you know it?"

Deirdre giggled. "Yes. The faeries took me on an unexpected little jaunt there one day. The artwork is wonderful and the people who run it are quite special. I’m so glad you’ll be there."

"So, you really believe in that airy fairy stuff?"

"It’s not a matter of belief, Dannah. Just experience. It’s learning to tune in. When you’re not used to expecting something, you often don’t see it." She leaned back, crossing her legs and relaxing her eyes. "They’re here, you know. Lots of them. Oh, wait a minute. They have a message for you."

I was getting a little uneasy. It was one thing to show my paintings at the Faerie Arts Gallery. It was entirely a different proposition to have someone tell me there were faeries in my house. Jeez, it felt like it might be haunted.

"The faeries like you. They’ve been working with your guardian angels to cleanse the place." She paused, listening. "They’ve been with you a long time and would like you to acknowledge them. Your disbelief discourages them. Some of them have left already. There is a small group who have been with you for lifetimes." She sat up straight and opened her eyes wide. "Good. Spend some time with them, Dannah. More paintings?"

I nodded and eased a large painting from behind the sofa.

"Oh," she gasped, leaning forward and scrutinizing my work. "How? Where? What was your inspiration?"

"Oh. This one I dreamed." A mermaid sat on a ledge, deep on the ocean floor, a cave behind her. The colors were marine blues, the hue and shadow of the deep places I’d never been.

"It is so realistic," Deirdre said.

"Realistic? It’s a mermaid." I shrugged, but was glad she liked it. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. I’d have to remember to give her the prototype for her birthday.

H

"I’m looking for Zip’s girl friend’s number or address," I explained to Deirdre. "It’s on an envelope. He sent me a letter when he first started living with her. I think he wanted to make me jealous and take him back. It’s got to be here somewhere." Harrie had done a good job of cleaning up. "You look in the table," I said, showing her how the coffee table was really a chest. Opening it, I groaned. I used to know exactly where everything was. Now it was too orderly to find anything.

I went to the small desk that served as a bedside table and pulled out the drawer. A stack of paperwork. Good. Maybe it was here. I was certain I’d put it in the desk. When? Last year? Or before?

"Her name is Mattie," I said. The last name just wouldn’t come.

"Mattie Green?" Deirdre asked, holding up a letter.

"YES. Deirdre, you found it."

"The postmark is two years ago. I wonder if she still lives there?" She handed me the letter.

"I could go check it out on the internet at the library," I said. "Wanna come?"

"I would but while I’m in this neighborhood, I want to stop off to see Cecilia. Give me a call if you need any more delving." She laughed, took her tea cup to sink, rinsed it and waved as she left.

"Ciao," I called in return.

H

Chapter XII

I found the truck key in the silverware drawer. At least Harrie hadn’t moved that. I’d drive to the library and then head back up to the Palace. Obviously Half Moon cat cat was getting along fine without me for now. I was relieved that the Colonel was feeling so good. Silly old guy, walking my cat.

I threw some clothes in a backpack, found my miniature Winsor Newton watercolor box and a small pad of 180 pound paper, locked up the Coop and headed for my old pick up truck parked in the alley. It turned over like a charm and I drove slowly toward the tree-lined street, missing the leaves of autumn that had fallen in piles of gold.

I stopped at the small branch office of the Fondis Public Library, showed my card and signed in for a half hour on the computer. Search: Amethyst Green, Chimayo, New Mexico. Bingo. There she was. Deirdre had been right. Amethyst had a new address. I copied it and her phone number, signed out and headed back to the truck.

I drove randomly along streets on the west side of town, tidy houses with neat yards lined the streets. Finally out to the edge of town, I slowed at the stables to see if Edgar Rice Burro was still visiting his girl friend Jenny Jennet. I didn’t see him so turned right to take Panorama Drive, the paved road curving up into the bluffs toward the Palace. The engine began to loose power. I shifted, floor boarded the accelerator. No increased action. Damn. I wondered what was wrong. I’ve been doing my best to keep up this dear ol’ clunker. Double damn. I didn’t have my cell phone. I eased off on the narrow shoulder, sliced the wheels so it wouldn’t roll, and parked, turning off the key.

A sharp breeze edged under my collar as I stood on the roadside, wondering which way to go. It was a long way to the top: steep and winding. I’d best head back toward the stables and hope to find a phone there. I went to the passenger side of the truck and rummaged around in the glove compartment, finding a stocking cap and mittens. I started walking back toward Fondis.

I heard the car before I saw it and eased off pavement unto gravel. The Mercedes exceeded the speed limit. The brakes squealed as it came to a stop.

"Dannah Davidson, whatever are you doing here?" Talia asked.

I laughed. I was so glad to see her, I just giggled.

She shook her head. "Stress. Get in."

I did, pointing out my stranded vehicle around the next curve. "Can I borrow your cell phone? I forgot mine at your place. It’s still charging."

"That’s why you didn’t answer. Did you ever consider that someone might be worried about you?"

I looked at her in blank astonishment. "Of course not. Why?"

She sighed.

"Oh. You were worried about me?"

"Yes. I was. I’m glad you’re okay. My cell’s in my bag there on the floor by your feet. Call my towing service. Or do you have one?"

I knew she was just being polite then. No. I did not have a towing service. Or many other amenities. But I managed. And I sure got a lot of help from my friends.

"Talia. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. No, I don’t know who to call." She gave me the number and they promised to pick it up in ninety minutes. Talia reached for the phone before I hung up.

"This is Dr. Master. Please call me as soon as you’ve diagnosed the problem. The keys are…" She glanced at me.

"In the ignition. Nobody’s going to steal it." I shrugged. She repeated the information and gave her cell number.

Talia continued to talk as I stared out the window, thinking I must be a pain in the ass for a friend. She hung up and slipped the phone back in her bag.

"Thanks, Talia. I don’t know what could be wrong with it. I thought it would be nice to have my own vehicle at the Palace if I was going to stay with you for a few more days."

"We’ll find out. Have you thought about getting another vehicle?"

"With what? My good looks?"

"Dannah, you’re limiting your options. Who knows? You have to be open to change. Discarding your old vehicle could be like discarding the old part of your life that wasn’t serving you."

"I didn’t have much choice about that."

She didn’t say anything.

"We’ll see how much choice I have about this."

H

"I want Dr. Bannock to see you," Talia said.

The name rang a bell but I couldn’t place her.

"That’s one of the reasons I was trying to reach you this morning. You know her. I think you met her at the Womyn’s Group picnic last June. Ramona Bannock. Tall, well endowed black woman. She does the best cranial sacral therapy of anyone I know."

I nodded. "Yes. I do remember her. She works at the Community Hospital. After talking to her I volunteered over there for the summer, teaching art classes in the rehab wing. Of course. But what’s wrong with my cranium?"

"I’m not sure anything is wrong. You had a severe blow to the side of your head and neck from the contusions I can see. Ramona will put her hands on you and feel the rhythms and adjust them. Sometimes when we can’t define anything else that is wrong, it is a subtle thing like the cranial sacral rhythm."

"Okay. Do I call her to schedule an appointment?"

"Actually, she said she was willing to come here. I invited her for dinner tonight. She’ll do your session here."

"How much will I owe her?"

"I’ve taken care of the compensation. Maybe you can give her a small painting if you’re so inclined."

"Yes. I know just the one." It was one of the first angel paintings I’d worked on, a beaming angel in the jungle with animals blending into the foliage.

H

Regina served fresh baked bread, blackened salmon and steamed broccoli in the formal dining room as Talia, Dr. Bannock and I talked.

"There are many body systems. As medical doctors we are trained to certain expectations of healing," she said. "Bottom line, no matter what path you choose and trust, your body heals itself. We are facilitators. Not magicians. Cranial sacral therapy focuses on the cerebrospinal fluid produced and absorbed by your body in a regular, rhythmical pattern."

I nodded, not really understanding it all but believing that plenty went on in the body that most of use were unaware of experiencing consciously.

She sipped from a crystal glass filled with organic grape juice. Regina served tossed green salad.

"Inside your cranium is a membrane called dura mater that adheres to the bone. Beneath that before the next layer of membrane is cerebrospinal fluid."

I swallowed. "I’m afraid you’ve lost me there. I can visualize my brain and the layers, sort of but…"

"Don’t worry. I just give the overall view and then the rest of the session will just be experiential. I want you to feel intellectually as well as physically comfortable."

"I appreciate that. Lots of docs don’t take time to let you know what’s going to happen and then I do tend to freak out." I smiled.

"The spine is the same way. There is the bone of the vertabra, a layer of membrane within the vertebra and cerebrospinal fluid before the next membrane. Same pattern. The spine and the cranium, working in conjunction with each other exhibit a basis function. A total of three layers of membrane lay between bone and the brain or spinal cord. That’s where the imbalance can occur."

"Wow." I took a bite of salmon and chewed, pondering.

"Enough doctor talk. We’ll use Talia’s healing room after dinner. If you have any questions, you can ask them. Don’t think about all those details, just let your body experience what’s happening."

H

I stretched out on Talia’s massage table, a foam roll under my knees and a soft cotton blanket over my body. Dr. Bannock circled the table, mumbling phrases I couldn’t catch, and making hand gestures. I began to relax. Soft harp music played in the background. Candles burned on tables in the four corners.

"You’ve had problems, honey," her deep voice washed over me.

"To put it mildly," I agreed.

"Your aura is ripped in several places and you’re leaking energy. I’ll be working on that first. Then we’ll check your cranial sacral."

I closed my eyes. She sounded like Talia and Harrie, and even Deirdre. Mumbo jumbo, airy fairy stuff. I could hear the swish of her dress as she moved, the wave of her hands over my body as I drifted off into a gentle place.

"It may be difficult to talk about what happened, but it will help. As emotion and body memory flares, I’m going to be using various forms of healing energy. We can clear much of the trauma today. Tell me your story, what bothers you, what you were or are afraid of and what pains your body has." Her mellifluous voice prompted me back into my body. Dr. Bannock’s hands held my head, moving imperceptibly as I talked.

I told her everything, my body jerking and twitching at times with memory and what she explained as release. A deep inner peace descended as I finished my story and began to see insubstantial images. I wanted my sketch book or a sheet of paper or a canvas. I told her what I saw and that I was afraid I’d lose the impressions.

"You will remember. You are no longer cluttered with debris that clogs the memory. Know that you will paint what you see precisely."

I nodded, falling into a space filled with angels and light and pastel colors and finally a deep sleep.

H

I slept deeply, immersed in dreams that extended from my session with Dr. Ramona Bannock. I didn’t even remember climbing into Talia’s bed.

I awoke slowly, taking stock of my body which felt remarkably better. I tried to remember when I’d had a greater sense of well being. Talia was gone but there was no note. Was she trying to show me how it felt when someone didn’t communicate? I really blew it yesterday. I’m not used to being responsible to anyone else but myself. And Half Moon. I’d have to call the Colonel today and talk to him about that scalawag cat.

I slipped into the robe I’d left on the back of a Victorian chair and sauntered down the hall toward the kitchen where I heard voices and music.

"Good Morning, Sweet Pea," Talia called.

I yawned. "I thought you were at work. Good Morning."

"Saturday. You’ve lost track of time." I certainly had.

Harrie and Lauren sat at the round oak table sipping coffee. I smiled and pulled out a chair to join them. Talia ran a hand through her hair and perched on the arm of a chair.

"Guess what today is?"

"Saturday?" Maybe it was a trick question.

"Yes, and it’s Halloween," Harrie said before I could respond further.

"Wow. Cool. Guess I’ll be a sleepy head."

Lauren reached over and soothed a hand across my rumpled head. "Let me do you, honey. I bet you’d like to be a cat, huh?"

"That would be cool but…"

"No buts. You probably don’t remember that I worked on the crew doing makeup when the Broadway touring show of "Cats" played at the Fondis Lyceum."

"I think I did know that but I’d forgotten. You could do my face like that?"

"Of course. Now how about everybody else?" He looked around the circle.

"What’s happening? Are we going to a party?" I was still sleepy and must have missed something.

"Sorry, Dannah," Harrie said, patting my hand.

"Impromptu," Talia said. "We just came up with the idea to have a wee Samhain party here with the four of us. I think I’ll be a witch." She lifted her eye brows and grinned.

"No fair. You were a witch last year. I want to be a witch," Harrie said.

"There were three witches in Macbeth. I can make you all witches if you want," Lauren said.

"Sorry," Harrie said. "Guess I was being a little petty. Want to be a witch, Dannah?"

"I’m rather set on the cat. I could wear black tights and a leotard and it would be an easy costume."

"It’s not about easy, little one. You all come over to my place and we’ll go through the costume room. I have plenty of options for us all."

"Then we come back here. I’ll tell Regina to think up something Halloweeny," Talia said.

H

We decided on a Celtic theme. Lauren did have everything imaginable to create costumes. He we a Selkie, a resplendent woman with wisps of seaweed hanging from his long black wig.

Harrie was the Green Lady, a tree spirit, clad in a green leotard with layers of leaves, oak and elm, holly and yew. Her face was exquisitely painted green, with leaf patterns overlapping. I thought she’d be invisible if she were in the forest.

Talia was the White Lady, her black hair tucked in a wig cap and a flowing silvery white wig draping over her shoulders. The diaphanous pale white gown flowed about her graceful figure.

I was loathe to give up the idea of being a cat so I became the Cat Faerie, my face made up like a wonderful feline, my hair secured under a cap with cat ears. I did wear a black leotard and tights with a short voile skirt in a leopard pattern, trimmed with a fur edging.

"Meeoow," I growled and we all laughed.

We all drove back to the Palace in Talia’s SUV, the one her husband drove when he picked up business associates. I doubt if any of them ever giggled like this group did.

Luminaries lined the path to the front door, which was lit by only a glowing skull. Inside candles lined the floor creating a path to the dining room, darkened with the exception of flickering tapers. Regina and Leonardo had been busy. It would have been spooky if I didn’t know where I was.

Regina and Leonard were dressed in Day of the Dead costumes, skeletons who appeared in the darkness, serving us an array of fabulous food.

"Day of the Dead is called "el Dia de los Muertos," Talia explained. "It is actually not Halloween but we combine lots of traditions here. The souls of dearly departed loved one return to the world of the living on November first." She stopped, suddenly glancing at me uneasily.

"Talia, don’t worry. Zip is dead but he’s not exactly a dearly departed loved one. If his spirit shows up tonight, I’ll just hiss." The tension eased with laughter.

"It is an ancient tradition dating back to the Aztecs and overlapping with beliefs from the Conquistadors." As if one cue, Regina’s sketetal form appeared, serving a special kind of bread.

"Calaver, the skull on the cookies, or the skeleton, is a symbol for the Day of the Dead. It is not considered fearful but instead playful. Regina is known for the best pan de muerto," Talia said, smiling as Regina served the sweet bread of the dead.

Lauren opened a bottle of champagne and poured for everyone but Talia thought I’d best not have any with the meds I was still taking. I was having such a good time, I didn’t mind.

By midnight we noticed snow had been falling for sometime. Eight inches muted the landscape around the house. Harrie and Lauren decided to spend the night and we lounged on sleeping bags in front of the living room fireplace, telling ghost stories until we all dropped into dreamland.

H

Kitty cat make up doesn’t look so good the morning after. Lauren stood next to me in the bathroom, giving me instructions about proper removal of stage makeup.

"Pour about a tablespoon of olive oil in your palm." I copied what he did, trying not to look at the cracked and smeared streaks on my face.

"Rub it in good, all around."

I leaned forward, cupping my hands to my face and slathered the olive oil about. Glancing up, I laughed. Black and white and yellow were now formed into a strange mishmash of shapes, all resemblance to a feline gone.

"Don’t worry. Wash cloth under hot water. Ta dah. Instant removal." He wiped the steaming cloth over his cheek and he was right. I followed suit and my face soon was shiny clean. My hair was another thing, snarled and sticking out in wild curls. I walked back to Talia’s bathroom and took a long hot shower.

After breakfast the four of us bundled in warm clothes and made a huge snowman near the fountain. The snow stopped and a weak sun tried to make a snowman shadow.

Leonardo entered the court yard from the back with a welcome announcement. "The drive way, she is clear," he said and smiled, a gold tooth gleaming.

"Ready to hit the road, Harrie," Loren asked. She nodded and they went to gather up costume remains. I followed.

"Can I catch a ride down the hill? I’d like to check on Half Moon and make sure my place is okay. I don’t know what’s going on with my truck."

"Dannah, I’m sorry. The mechanic called yesterday to say the transmission was out," Talia said.

"Shit. That sounds expensive." I flopped on the sofa and stared at the floor trying to figure out what to do.

"It is. You’ll have to decide if you want to keep that old truck or not," she said.

"I’ve been keeping it up—spending money on it all year so it was dependable. If I start over, I’ll just have someone else’s problem vehicle and then what?" I shook my head and glowered.

"You could go to the auction. I bought a car there once and it lasted three years," Loren said.

"Yeah, and I bought a car there once and it didn’t last a week," Harrie said, supporting my fears.

"You don’t have to decide anything today," Talia reminded me. "Go home with Loren and I’ll come by and pick you up this afternoon. I have to do some shopping. But before you all leave, this is a formal invitation to everyone for Thanksgiving. William will be home and I’m going to do a full blown old fashioned Thanksgiving. I’ve ordered an organically fed, free range turkey already."

H

"Daann-nah," Nirvana shouted as she blew into the China Bistro with a blast of cold air. Talia and I were just finishing the best hot and sour soup on the planet. Nirvana, a fellow artist, is also a Master Gardener and helped me design and plant the small area that’s fenced off and used to be the chicken run at the Coop. I don’t see her often but we always have fun.

"Nirvana, I haven’t seen you for ages. Do you know…" I hesitated briefly as I often do, not knowing whether to introduce Dr. Master or Talia. "Talia?"

"No. Hi." Nirvana pulled a woolen glove off and reached out her hand, her smile big as ever. "Actually I think I’ve heard of you though. Didn’t you have a tapestry in the Fondis Fabulous Fiber Arts Show?"

"Yes. Would you like to join us?"

I didn’t know about that. I knew Talia was a weaver but we never connected on that level and I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

"Great," Nirvana enthused as she slid in next to me. "I can’t stay. I have a take out order that should be up soon. But guess what?" She turned to me, "I was accepted into the same show you’re in."

"Fabulous, Nirvana. What did you enter?"

"A glass sculpture called ‘The Goddess at Dawn.’ I welded her form and then used a myriad array of crackling glass, re-annealed it, and attached a mosaic of pieces with wires. When you stand far away, you can see the sun rising through her heart." Nirvana grinned.

Beethoven’s Fifth warbled out in that cell phone way and Talia reached into her purse and answered it.

"I think my order is ready. See you when we set up. It will be great fun, Dannah. Glad I got to meet Talia. I’d like to talk about color with her sometime. Fibers are different than glass but the fusion of color…" Her voice trailed off. "Wish we still had the Art Group. It inspired me beyond my normal expectation of expression."

"Me too. Maybe we can get it going again after the show."

"And Dannah, I don’t know how to say this." She reached over and pecked my cheek. "I’m sorry about Zip."

I nodded.

We hugged and she hurried through the tables to pick up her order at the counter.

A petite oriental girl served Talia Kung Pao Chicken and me Moo Goo Gai Pan. I slipped the chop sticks out of the paper wrap and rubbed them together, removing splinters.

Talia snapped her cell shut. "Good news, Dannah. That was my brother. You can borrow his extra car if we take him a gallon of Rocky Road." She laughed.

"Wow. Great. I still have to talk to the mechanic and see how much it will cost to fix the old truck."

"At least in the meantime, you can have wheels. I thought about lending you the William’s Porche but it is not very practical in the winter on our roads. Anyway, we can stop at the Midtown Market and pick up the requested ice cream. Guess we’ll have dessert at Samuel’s place."

H

Chapter XVI

"Talia, you’re spoiling me," I said, drying off after lounging in the hot tub. I loved her house, her bedroom, her willingness to be my friend.

"Chinese food, ice cream with your bro, and the hot tub. Plus borrowing his Subaru which drives really well. Thanks for everything."

"I know you’d do the same for me, little one. How are you doing? Really?" She sank into the big chair in her bedroom and suddenly looked clinical.

"Fine. I think."

"I wondered if you would like to sleep in the guest room tonight?
"You are psychic, you know. I was wondering about that. I really want to go back home but then I get uneasy when I think about it. You’re right. Staying here in the next room would be a way of weaning myself."

"A transition. If it doesn’t work, don’t hesitate to come in here. I’ll leave the door open. Regina made up the bed in there. Stay here as long as you want. At least until after your first counseling session. I know you want to go home but I want you to be sure and feel safe."

"That is such a vague place for me right now. Safe. It wasn’t even safe here for Leonardo and Virgil. I keep thinking about Zip. I feel jumpy, sometimes. Like he’s going to be coming around the corner."

"I think that’s natural. It will take a while. Come, let’s get you settled in your own room. You’ll have your own bathroom. I’ll help move your things." She smiled, no longer the doc, just my friend.

H

The décor of the guest room next to Talia’s (one of six) was green. I’d never seen all the rooms in the Palace. One wall covered in a semi shine green striped wallpaper was filled with paintings of forest faeries. The drapes at the window, a rich velvet of forest green that matched the bedspread on the double bed where I flung my clothes.

"All set?" Talia called from the adjoining bathroom where she set my toiletries.

"I think this will be fine." I turned slowly, feeling the comfort of the room.

"The television is here," she said, sliding open a panel on the bookcase. "Are you good for reading material?"

"Actually I would like to fall into a good historical romance and forget about the present." Television would probably activate my fears.

"Oh, I just finished one by Hannah Oakley that I think you’ll like. Let me get it for you. Then I’m ready to turn in."

I turned on the light on the nightstand, slipped into my nightie, dowsed the rest of the lights in the room and settled in to read about Cornelia Carmichael in 1780 England.

"Nirvana, I’m so glad you called. And that you’re here at the Coop with me." I smiled at her as we wandered the flower beds.

"We need to mulch the roses for winter. You can collect the marigold seeds now or let them drop of their own accord. Same with the hollyhocks." She scrunched up her shoulders and dropped them. "Alyssum. All your annuals."

"Even petunias?"

"I’ve even had them re-seed but it’s easier to buy sets in the spring."

"I like to do it the natural way. Wouldn’t it be more natural to just let the seeds fall to the ground?"

"The problem with the natural way, that is, scattering them or letting them fall with the whims of the winds, is that the birds eat the seeds. So, if we’re going to scatter them, let’s cover them up with some top soil."

I nodded as she bent to snip a flower head with her fingers. We’d planned a short gardening session and then were going to meet Harrie and go to Fondis Rock Shop on the southwest of town.

I dropped a kneeling pad on the path and sank to my knees. Pulling a weed and then another, I made a clean area before I plucked a marigold head, broke it apart and scattered the seeds. I walked back toward the Coop where I stored bins of compost and top soil, filled the old wheelbarrow and pushed it down the garden path.

"I’ll just leave this between us so we both can access the soil."

We worked quietly for some time. Birds chirped and settled at the bird feeder that I’d just filled. Poor little winged ones must have missed my daily feedings. I’d have to fill the bird bath before we left. The garden was peaceful and I knew someplace deep in my heart that it would be okay to spend the night here. I wondered if Half Moon would be willing to join me tonight. Spoiled kitty.

"I’m getting an idea just being in your garden, Dannah," Nirvana said. "What if I made a sculpted and glass scare crow? I can see it in my mind. Would you be willing to let me experiment and put it here. It will probably not be ready until late spring."

"You know I love your work. That would be great. What happens if the glass freezes? Would it break?"

"Not if I do it right. After all, your windows don’t break from the cold. I’m working on some new techniques. This will be a good opportunity to test out the environmental possibilities. After all, I can’t do it where I live."

I nodded. Nirvana lived in her studio loft with her sometimes boyfriend Ranchero. He went up to herd cattle in Montana last summer and I haven’t seen him around since then. He usually comes around in the winter months and sings at one of the local pubs for cash. Sometimes he does storytelling in the schools.

"What time are we going to meet Harrie?" I wasn’t wearing a watch.

"I forgot to tell you. She’s going to swing by here and pick us up."

We continued cleaning up the garden beds silently, each lost in our own worlds. Clouds drifted across the November sun, reminding me to get a heavier wrap before we left. The morning weather report promised rain this afternoon.

H

"Sorry, I’m late, girls," Harrie said as we climbed into her SUV.

"No problem," Nirvana said. "We finished our chores and had time to scrub up."

Harrie looked fabulous in a tailored suit and boots. I wore my old jeans and a sweat shirt with down vest thrown on knowing the temperature would cool. Nirvana, always dependable for the unusual, wore her garden clothes, faded denim bib tops with a flowing mirror cloth blouse underneath. A Moroccan camel hair cape wrapped around her shoulders.

"I’m famished. Let’s get lunch. My treat," Harrie said.

"What’s up with you? You’re grinning like the Cheshire cat, Harrie," I said.

"I can never keep a secret from you. I have a date tonight." She pulled into Ye Ol’ Tea Shoppe. "Is this okay with you? They have great sandwiches."

"Beggars can’t be choosers. Looks good to me," I quipped, turning my head to see what Nirvana thought in the back seat. She smiled and nodded to Harrie’s image in the rear view mirror.

Harried ordered a club sandwich; I opted for a tuna melt and Nirvana asked for a veggie burger. We sat in a high backed booth. I scooted against the wall so I could see Harrie better.

"Okay. Tell all," I commanded.

"I had a meeting and ran into the bank to make a deposit. Tad Duncan was coming in as I went out. You know him? The new VP. Well, we sort of floundered at the door, him coming, me going, in that round about. Somehow we both managed to be in a cubicle at the same time and we went a full circle before we both got out on the sidewalk, laughing." Harrie gesticulated with her hands, her long fingers graceful.

Nirvana and I were laughing at the image of it.

"And you have a date with him?"

"No. Another man came up just as we introduced ourselves and I was introduced to him by Tad Duncan. He’s a mortgage broker from Seattle named Johnathan Jacobs. Tad almost directly asked me to show him around Fondis tonight. How could I refuse?"

"I’m not sure which one you’re more excited about. Sounds like you and Tad had a great moment together," I said.

"And is he handsome or what? I probably would prefer to have a date with him but it seemed like I was doing him a favor. Johnathan will only be here overnight. He flies out of Fondis International at 6 am. He seemed pleasant enough. It will be a change. I’m planning on having a good time." She flashed a broad smile.

Fondis Rock Shop had undergone many changes since the last time I was up here. Fondis Lapidary, as it was now called, was no longer a converted mining shaft made into a shop. The front of the building was flat with many windows looking out unto the slabs neatly set in a patio area decked with tables and chairs around a fountain.

We parked and walked along a gravel path to the double doors welcoming guests.

"Oh, look," said Nirvana as she immersed her hands in a deep wooden trough filled with polished stones.

"Nirvana, this is only the beginning," Harrie laughed. "Wait ‘til you see how they’ve remodeled."

The building fanned out in a semi circle, the doorways gradually increasing to a larger room space. I followed Harrie into the third room, dimly lit with spotlights accenting glass cases with jewelry exquisitely displayed.

"Dannah, don’t you just love this room? Oh, look at that citrine necklace." Harrie hurried to a case displaying a necklace, earrings and bracelet. He boot heels were silent on the thick carpeting.

I shrugged. "I think I’ll just mosey around a bit, Harrie."

"Um hmm. Oh. Meet me in the center garden area when you’re done.

I wondered from room to room, but little caught my attention. I slipped out a side door and sauntered along the boardwalk curving around the building, gazing at large slabs of rock, interesting designs and formations. I stopped and gazed in awe at huge chunks of rose quartz. Now a piece of that would look perfect in the center of my garden.

"Kinda chilly out here, huh, young lady?" The old man’s voice was reedy but kind.

"Hi. Yeah. How about you? Aren’t you cold?"

"Warm blooded." He chuckled.

"Do you work here?"

"Yup. Used to own the place. Sold it to my niece a few years back. she’s done a bang up job fixin’ it up, eh?"

"It is amazing. You know, I think I remember you. I haven’t been here for a long time. Do you know how much the rose quartz is?" I pointed at a chunk of rock I knew I couldn’t lift.

"Two bucks a pound. Can really add up, that. I can probably get ya a discount though. You like that piece, eh? I’ll be back around. You go back inside if you get too cold, hear?"

Nice old guy. He reminded me of the Colonel. I was going to visit the Colonel when I got back and see how Half Moon was doing and if that silly cat wanted to come back home after all that spoiling.

Shivering, I headed back inside, wondering how much the rose quartz weighed and if I could cover it. When I checked my mail box this morning I had a pleasant surprise. There was a check from the Blue Moon Gallery for $250.00 for a painting I forgot was hanging over there. I should have a better system of keeping track. I always start off the year very organized, set up a system in Excel—and then forget to keep it up. If I bought that chunk of stone, would I have enough for gas and food?

I settled in an overstuffed chair near the wood burning stove and stared into the flames, rubbing my hands absently as the chill subsided. I’d probably seen a thousand rocks and stones since we arrived. I wondered what called me to that particular piece. Especially because it was one of fifteen or so.

Glancing out the window, I saw Harrie talking to the old man. She must be freezing without a coat. I turned as someone walked in the room. A bent old woman shuffled toward me, a grin in her peach pit face.

"Cuppa tea, girlie?"

"Thank you. Where do I get it?"

"Don’t you worrit. I’ll be bringin’ it to you. Just keep yoursilf still and I’ll be back right in a minute." Even hobbling, she moved rapidly.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. My life was going on. Zip’s wasn’t. I was pretty happy not to have to worry about him. Pretty guilty that I felt that way. Very happy I had the friends I did. I was looking forward to being at the Coop tonight. It would be a test but I knew I’d be just fine.

Jeez, I’d forgotten about Amethyst. Being here amidst all these stones, her namesake included, reminded me. That and thoughts of Zip. Tomorrow. I’ll call her tomorrow.

The wafting aroma of cinnamon and ginger triggered my nostrils and I opened my eyes in curiosity as the old woman set a tray on the table next to me. A fine bone china teapot sat next to a matching cup and saucer. The violet and rose pattern was repeated on the creamer and sugar bowl.

"Thank you." I struggled to sit up straight.

"Ye be welcome." She reached out and held one of my cold hands with toasty old fingers. "I’ll just warm ye up a bit while the tea steeps."

"I’m Dannah. Who are you?"

"Just an old one," she said as her warmth spread into my finger tips, up to my palm and into my arms. It was a radiant heat, more than just heat, rather like the energy work that Dr. Bannock did.

Her accent was so unusual. "Where are you from? Originally?"

She chuckled. "The stars as we all are. But no, you mean when I was a babe. I came from the old country, lassie. Been here a long time. Remember back when Fondis was nothin’ but a memory."

She was working on my other hand now. I was feeling warm and vibrant all over. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about and felt she didn’t want me to know anything specific.

"There be your friend. She’ll be wantin’ tea. You enjoy yoursilf, now." She was gone before I could thank her.

Harrie sank gracefully into the chair next to me, rubbing her hands on her arms. "It’s freezing out there."

I nodded. "Did you see all that wonderful rock garden out there?"

"All the pieces too big to bring inside. It’s beautifully arranged. I think we both fell in love with the rose quartz."

"Oh, Harrie. There is one piece out there—what can I say? It’s like it spoke to me."

"Ah, my little unbeliever, you’ll be joining us any time now." She laughed and I joined her.

"I’m sounding like the company I keep."

The old woman served the cinnamon/ginger tea to Harrie and took a hand in hers to warm it.

"Ah, I see Nanny is taking care of you all," a pleasant voice sounded from the doorway. "I’m Silver McCrae. You must be Nirvana’s friends."

"Yes," Harrie and I answered as Silver stepped aside and put her arm around Nirvana.

"Can you believe it, Dannah? Silver and I went to junior high together." Arm in arm they came to the center of the room.

"I moved away and we haven’t seen each other for years. I’m not surprised she’s an artist. She always liked to play in the dirt and draw pictures in the sand."

"And Silver always collected rocks." They hugged each other, Silver, tall and willowy with silvery hair like her name and Nirvana, short like me and bubbly.

"Look what I purchased," Harrie said, opening a bag and pulling out a box with a beautiful lapis lazuli necklace, bracelet and earrings. "Something to wear tonight." She grinned.

"And I realize how remiss I’ve been. I missed both your birthdays. Dannah, I’m going to purchase a particular chunk of rose quartz if that is what you still want and Nirvana, you have to tell me what caught your eye?"

My mouth dropped. For once I was without words. Finally, "Harrie, you can’t do that."

"I can and I will. Thank you very much. Now, Nirvana?"

"Harrie, I don’t know what to say."

"I know what Nirvana loved," Silver piped up and smiled sweetly at her long lost friend. "C’mon Harrie. There’s a beautiful moonstone ring she kept trying on even though she didn’t say a word." Silver smirked at Nirvana and Harrie followed her out of the room.

H

I took a bite of warm apple pie, ice cream dripping down the sides as Sari Thompson filled a glass of milk for me. Half Moon sat smugly on top of the refrigerator cleaning his face.

"I wanted you to know I moved back home today," I said.

The Colonel nodded. "Noticed you out in the garden this morning with that gardener person of yours. And then almost at sunset, you were out there in the cold."

"You don’t miss a thing, Colonel. Harrie gave me a piece of rock, a rose quartz, and it took four of us to move it in the wheel barrow." I laughed, thinking of Nirvana, Harrie and Silver as we maneuvered the huge chunk of stone. Silver and Nirvana went off to dinner and Harrie to her date.

I had a date with a cat. I hoped.

"Colonel, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Moonie. It’s been a rough week and I couldn’t have done it without you."

"Pashaw," he mumbled. Or something that sounded like that.

"I’m not even certain if Half Moon will want to come home after being spoiled by you and Sari. I know you’ve enjoyed his company."

"Demanding cat, that. Why I had to take him for a walk every day. He’d caterwauled at the door if we didn’t go right on schedule. Pain in the caboose, that cat is," the Colonel grumbled.

Half Moon circled in place and flicked his tail at us.

"Well, I guess you won’t miss him when I take him home, huh?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course not. Too high falutin’, that cat is. Don’t know how you can keep up with him."

At first I thought he was joking but I worried that he was serious now. Maybe Half Moon had been too much for the aging military man.

"I’m sorry. I thought maybe you enjoyed him."

"Harrumph."
"Colonel, sir, now don’t be so ornery. You’re upsetting the girl. Go on, tell her."

The Colonel glared at her and then up at Moonie who jumped down and circled the table. With one agile movement, he was lightly in the middle of the table. He twirled, flashing his tail across my nose. I laughed. Then he tail whacked the Colonel.

"What’s going on, Colonel? He seems upset with both of us."

"Well, let me explain, Dannah. Your friend here was missin’ you. I could tell. He knew I wanted him to stay on. I didn’t know how long you’d be gone and I got used to cat company. Doesn’t talk back like Sari, here."

She made a sound in her throat.

"We went walkin’ every day, your cat and me," the Colonel continued. "Suited both of us. He took to a lead better than any canine I ever trained." I could hear pride in his voice and relaxed a little, wondering what was coming.

"I knew you’d be along soon enough to take Moon Face home."

Moonie batted my hand, claws retracted. I reached out and rubbed behind an ear, waiting for a purr.

"Well, now. I see you two are properly getting reacquainted," the Colonel said.

"Colonel, tell her," Sari urged.

"Tell me what?" I demanded.

"I got my own cat. There." He crossed his arms, his lips a thin line.

"Your Moonie didn’t like any part of that. We’ve had to keep them separated for the past few days. They only get along when the Colonel takes them both for a walk," Sari filled in the details.

"You walk both cats on leads?" I couldn’t believe it.

He nodded, got up and pushed the swinging door into the dining room.

"C’mon, Pusskins." He shifted his voice up an octave. A black cat streaked past his feet and skidded on the polished linoleum. Moonie hissed, hair bristling like a porcupine.

"That’s Pusskins," Sari said. "Better take him back in the dining room, Colonel, until Dannah leaves." She supressed a giggle with her hand and winked at me as the Colonel bent to pick up the twitterpated cat.

I’d finished my milk and pie in the midst of the feline trauma.

"Time for us to go home, Moonie," I said.

"And it’s about time," grumped the Colonel.

Sari and I exchanged a glance. I stopped at the back door, turning. "Colonel, if you need an extra companion for walking, I’m sure Half Moon will be up for it." Cuddling my kitty in my arms, I walked down the back steps and headed home to the Coop.

H

I woke up feeling great. There’s nothing like sleeping with a purring cat to sooth a restless soul. No nightmares. It was the day-mares that would bother me.

I kept my appointment with the counselor. Wonder what the difference is between a counselor and a psychologist. Maybe it’s just what you say to other people. If you don’t want people to think you’re whacked, you mention a counselor. Sounds so proper and nice. A psychologist is way too close to a psychiatrist and then they know you’re in big trouble.

The guy was a geek, tall, skinny, hawk nosed and unsmiling. He kept his eyes on the computer, not me. How could he read my body language? And when I have issues with men, or at least one dead one, then why go to a male counselor? He entered a bunch of stuff on the computer while I answered his questions. Or avoided them. I’m much better if I have a deep conversation with Talia and Harrie.

And then he said I needed to see a psychiatrist anyway. He wanted me on some kind of meds for depression. I found him very depressing. I’d driven Sam’s truck over to the mental health center but needed to walk after my appointment to clear my head. I just followed my feet, scuffing leaves and frowning at the pavement.

I found myself in front of Nirvana’s loft and walked down the side of the building to the alley entrance. She had the Rolling Stones cranked and didn’t hear me enter. I stood in amazement as I often do when I visit here. Nirvana was on a high scaffold, her head covered with a Darth Vader like welding hood, working on the form of a woman.

I settled in a chair and Panther, her sleek black cat, jumped in my lap, purring and nudging my hand for attention. This was real therapy, not that pop psycho babble with Hawk Nose.

Nirvana paused, placing her torch in a holder and pushing the hood back off her face to stare at her creation. I remained silent, not wanting to distract her or startle her when she up so high. She turned, like she’d heard my thoughts.

"Hey, Dannah. Good timing. Be right down." She set her hood and gloves in a bin attached to the triple tiered scaffold and climbed down with the speed of a monkey. I laughed.

"You’re too funny, Nirvana. Sorry if I’m interrupting your work."

"No problem. I needed to take a break. This is the piece I’m going to attach the stones to—after talking to Silver, I realize I can have slabs of a stone cut in a particular size and then I’ll line them up along the chakras. I’m really jazzed about this sculpture." She grinned but didn’t take her eyes off it. "The Chakra Goddess. That’s her name."

Panther hopped down from my lap and circled Nirvana’s ankles.

"He thinks I work too much." She laughed. "What have you been up to?" She turned, focusing all her attention on me now.

"Oh, not much. I’ve been told I’m depressed."

"Who isn’t? What are you working on?"

"I was almost finished with a big piece I’d hoped to sell. It disappeared with all that mess around Zip. I haven’t heard another thing about it." I frowned.

"What new piece have you started since then? Most artists I know are depressed if they’re not in the midst and madness of creation."

"I never thought of that. You’re probably right. I’m carrying my watercolors around like some kind of talisman but I haven’t painted a thing. I haven’t even sketched anything. It’s like my fingers and brain are disconnected. You’re much better therapy than that clueless counselor I just saw. You understand me."

I told her about my dismal session.

"Better to go to the psychiatrist. I’ve lived with Prozac and without it. It’s better with. It may not be the right thing for you but you’ll never know if you don’t show up. We all carry a stigma about what is okay and what isn’t. Once you’re at the bottom of the barrel and you look up and see that there is sunshine if you just take a little pill, you’re willing to experiment."

"You really take meds? I don’t know why I came here. I was so upset I just started walking and my feet brought me to the Loft." I sighed.

"Your feet are connected even when you’re not aware of it." Her laughter sparkled throughout the Loft. "Let’s go get lunch. I’ll buy. I just sold a big piece that will keep me warm this winter. Remember the Sky Goddess? She’s at a fancy resort up in Wyoming in the land of big sky. A perfect place for her."

H

Nirvana and I had lox and bagels at the little deli around the corner from the Loft.

"So, what’s really going on with you?" she probed as we shared a piece of homemade blueberry pie.

"I don’t know. Talia took care of my body and Harrie took care of a bunch of other stuff with homeopathic remedies. I’m just in this weird space."

"Are you mourning for Zip?"

"Hardly. I’m so pissed at him. How did I ever get involved with such a jerk? I should mourn my lack of good judgement." Neither of us laughed.

"Even if you hated him, you loved him at one time. So mourning would be natural. He was part of your life for a few years."

"I know." I told her about our last night together as we walked back to the Loft.

"I’d heard a rumor. Nothing as harsh as the truth. I’m going to give you a challenge, Dannah. Paint how you feel about that night. A big canvas. Let it all out. Do it when you won’t be interrupted. That’s your assignment, if you chose to accept it."

"Yes. You’re right. I’m going home right now and…"

"Or you can stay at the Loft. There’s a huge canvas in the back room—remember when I used to paint backdrops for the Fondis Fools Production Company? I still have some of those massive panels. And I have every color oil paint they make. If you’re here you won’t be tempted to wash the dishes or play with the cat." She scooped Panther up and kissed his forehead. "I have a pot of soup simmering in the crock pot so we have dinner covered."

"Yes. Good."

The next room was small, a storage room but with high windows that let in perfect light if clouds hadn’t smothered the sun. I looked around, nodding.

"I have to go back and pick up the pick up." I smiled without much enthusiasm.

"I’ll do it when I go to the post office. I’ll take a brisk walk, find the truck, go by and feed that rambunctious Half Moon and be back in a flash. You settle in. See the closet over there?" She pointed. "You’ll find buckets of paint, rollers and anything else you might need if you want to do big slashing work. I need to work on the Goddess for about an hour. I had an idea at lunch that I can’t wait to execute. I won’t bother you. Come out when you’re hungry."

"Bagel full. Thanks, Nirvana." She gave me a hug and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

H

The room seemed small without Nirvana, the canvas, larger. I’ve never been intimidated by a canvas. They call me and I fall into them. Sometimes I see the image before it unfolds, sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m doing and I let the brush be an extension of my hand and I’m surprised at the result. And then there are the dream paintings, the ones that wake me up at night and I rush to find a blank canvas and begin to paint.

Nirvana and I are both night owls. I’ve worked over here and she’s been to my place. I produce different work when we’re together; there’s a different energy, or synergy and I get hits of inspiration just by her presence. It isn’t that I seek it, just that I enjoy the options of creativity.

Now, here, I don’t know what to do. I push some stuff aside and sit on a cot under the windows. I think her boyfriend sleeps here whenever he comes into town. I’m not sure he’s even her boyfriend but I’ve definitely picked up references to her being in the middle of a project and not welcoming his presence.

I don’t know where to start. I’m so pissed off that it seems futile. I think I should just go home and think about it. Not that "thinking" ever produced a painting. Nirvana is right. I need to do this.

I walked over to the canvas, fingered it’s rough edge. I’ll have to use a ladder to paint the top area. I walked back and still can’t get any perspective on the possibility of working this big. I inspect the brushes, the oils, walk in small circles, pondering.

I opened the door to tell Nirvana I couldn’t do it but she was welding a large hoop earring on the left side of the Goddess’ head. Shrugging on my coat, I opened the door and slipped out into the alley. Walk. I just needed to move, to figure out what my resistance was. I pulled the hood up around my head, trying to ignore the dark clouds gathering and the biting wind that nibbled at my cheeks.

One foot in front of the other, I trudged along, ignoring anyone else on the sidewalk, not knowing which streets I crossed or what direction I walked. Mindless but full of mind. Scattered images, angry thoughts muffled with a yearning to be free of the fear, the angst, the limitations. The dark clouds gradually became darkness.

Snow fell for some time and yet I continued, finally realizing I was near downtown and could go rescue the pick up and have a hopefully warm drive home. I rounded the corner and stopped under a street light, checking my bearings. The truck wasn’t in the parking lot. I walked slowly to the place I knew I’d left it. There was only one other car around. This was the pits. Borrowing a car and losing it, or worse yet, having it stolen.

"Damn," I said out loud.

"Do you need some help?" a voice called out behind me.

I whirled, suddenly aware of how alone and isolated the parking lot was. Furtively I glanced around, looking for lights and a place to run.

The huge bulk of a figure moved my way. Not threatening but very large. Long legs. I was sure he could outrun me. What foolish thing had I done by being in such a mood that it was now so late, I didn’t have any wheels, I couldn’t remember where I left my cell phone. I was a mess.

"Ah, no. I’m fine," I said feebly as he drew closer. A full moon had pushed the clouds aside and he stood there with moonlight shining all around him.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance." He had a deep brogue and seemed genuinely concerned.

"No. I’ve just been in a funk and was walking trying to figure my life out and came here to pick up my car, well, not my car but a truck I borrowed when my car broke down and…I’m babbling and—oh, shit." That’s when I remembered. "I am totally out of it. I think Nirvana picked up the truck and…" I faltered. I felt absolutely foolish standing there in an almost empty parking lot talking to a stranger about a stupid mistake.

"Well, it seems you might need some help, after all."

"I haven’t seen you around." I would have noticed the breadth of those shoulders. "Where do you work?"

"I’m rather in between jobs right now, you see,…"

Great. Another loser without a job.

"Can I give you a lift?" He turned toward the only vehicle in the parking lot.

He had a strong profile, a well defined nose, full lips, all this I noted in silhouette, wanting to sketch him. I took a deep breath. "Sure."

As we walked toward the back of the car, I noticed it was a rental. So, he wasn’t employed and he didn’t own a car but he had enough money to rent a car. God, I sounded mercenary. I slid into the passenger seat.

"May I offer to buy you a bowl of soup on this bitter night?" he asked.

I laughed. I’ve heard a lot of pick up lines but a bowl of soup wasn’t on the list. "No. Thank you. I’m working on a project and really need to get back to it." I’d love to go with this big bear of a man and have a bowl of soup but I had too much garbage in my brain to even think about it now.

I gave him directions to Nirvana’s Loft. He pulled up in the parking lot next to the borrowed truck and I smiled.

"Perhaps we can get a bowl of soup tomorrow then?"

"No. I don’t think I’ll be done by then. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you when I’m done. I think I’ll need soup by then." I returned his smile, reaching across to squeeze his arm. "Thanks for the ride." My hand lingered too long as my fingers assessed the fabric: cashmere. I was getting a lot of mixed information from this guy. I wanted to figure him out. I wanted to paint him. I wanted…I opened the car door and jumped out, closing it and waving before I headed down the alley.

H

"Ah, there you are, Dannah. Get it out of your system? Have a bowl of soup before you tackle that project."

I laughed and we settled in for soup and crackers knowing we both would work late. I told her about the mystery man but didn’t tell her how I felt. How could I not have asked his name?

Hours later, I was back in the work room, still unsatisfied but determined to make an effort. Painting was never an effort for me. It was a compulsion, something I had to do to exist. Obviously Zip’s death had something to do with my inability to paint.

I pulled open the closet door, reached for the string and tugged on the light. If I started with big swathes of color, or not color, I was feeling black—and blue—I thought without humor. Damn. I shuffled around, amidst paint can, rollers, paint trays until I found what I wanted and began to lug everything out.

The canvas was already sized, dutchmaned I think they called it. I wanted to paint a bowl of soup and superimpose that great profile highlighted by moonlight. I was giddy with the image. The other part of my brain, the deep dark part, growled a scolding. The mystery man is not your issue. Get on with it.

Those thoughts made me angry which took me back to all the old issues. I turned on all the bulb lamps that Nirvana had clipped around the room, found cans of black paint, a tray a roller and sloshed random strips of paint crisscrossing the surface, dripping. The floor was already well initiated with paint so I didn’t worry about being sloppy. I never felt this wild freedom of movement in my crowded space. I’d stepped off the cliff into the void, falling into the blackness.

I grabbed buckets of paint, one after the other, using a roller. Blue, gray and red ripped across the black. I was building up a sweat and tossed off my tee shirt, working in bra and jeans. I kicked off my shoes, tugged off my socks never taking my eyes from the canvas.

I’d felt sorry for Zip, even in the beginning, thought I could help him. Well, what kind of a stupid control trip was I on? He was out of control from the beginning. The more I tried to make it work, to help him out, the worse it was. I grabbed a rag mop from the back of the closet, dunked it in red and slapped it across the canvas. I thought I was being nice. I grabbed a broom and dunked it in yellow, spiking flares around. I was being willful. I dipped my hands up to the elbows into a bucket of red. I swirled my arms against the surface like a windshield wiper. I thought I was being heartfelt. I was being controlling. I wept. It was my fault as much as Zip’s.

I could no longer see the painting, just the blur through tears. I pulled off all my clothing, grabbed a sponge and covered the front of my body, red over my heart, orange on my belly, blue along my legs, green on my arms and I plunged into the canvas, squirming, rolling, twisting letting it come out of me and stay there. Let me be free of my own madness. Zip is at peace at last. He had a real problem that took him to his death when he was off meds and out of control.

What was my problem? Buying into it all. I would go to the psychiatrist. I would do whatever it took to stabilize myself.

Even if it changed my artistic passion? I sank to the floor.

Even if.

H

"Dannah, honey, you’re cold."

I awoke slowly, vaguely aware of Nirvana’s voice.

"I filled the tub with hot water."

My body ached. I was chilled to the bone. As I started to move, I stuck to myself. The creases at my elbow cracked. Gradually I remembered the night, the completion of the project. I eased my legs out of the fetal position, stretching as paint cracked off my body.

"Yes. Bath," I murmured, as Nirvana lifted me, supporting me as we headed toward the bathroom under the spiral staircase that led to her bedroom. Bright sunlight shone through the windows.

Mounds of bubbles foamed on the surface of the old fashioned claw footed tub. I climbed in, sinking down so just my chin was above water.

"How do you feel?"

I yawned. "I’m not sure yet."

"You were in there three days."

"No way. I know I lost track of time but three days?"

"I checked on you just to make sure you were alright. I knew you didn’t want to eat but I left food for you. You didn’t touch it." She handed me a bottle of water. "Drink. You’re probably dehydrated. You were so focused. I know how that feels. Done it myself plenty of times."

"Thanks, Nirvana. Crazy artists, eh?" We both laughed.

"Here’s a big scrub brush. I think you’ll need it."

"Thanks." My skin tingled as I began to scrub the paint off."

"You created a masterpiece," Nirvana said.

"I haven’t seen it yet. I can’t believe it’s anything but emotion. I’ve never painted like that before. That room allows for a great deal of freedom."

"That’s where I used to work when I first took over the loft. Then I started working bigger and bigger and finally claimed the space out here. Good vibes all over this ol’ loft." She smiled.

"Thanks for understanding what I needed," I said. I slid my head underwater and back, reaching for shampoo.

"No prob. Say, Pippin came by several times asking after you. I said you were still working. Who is he?"

"Who’s Pippin?"

"I don’t know. I thought he was a friend of yours. Some big guy, must be six five or more. Wavy red hair a lot like yours but not as curly. Scottish brogue."

"You say his name is Pippin? Wow. We didn’t even exchange names. Well, now…that’s nice." I smiled. I felt ready to have a conversation with the mystery man who now had a name. Pippin. What kind of a name was that? First or last? I think he gave me his number. I wasn’t sure if I was up to initiating a call. I stood, bubbles sliding down my body.

"Here, let me help you. You’ve missed a few spots in the back." Nirvana grabbed the brush and scrubbed at my shoulder, down my back and across my buttocks. I looked at my body, realizing that the bruises were gone and I was healed, no longer tender. She handed me a towel and I stepped out to dry off.

"Thanks."

"Harrie came by and Talia called. They were both glad to hear you were painting."

I nodded.

"I brought some of your clothes from the Coop. Are you ready for food?"

"I don’t know. I’m not really hungry. I feel a sense of completion. Relaxed like I haven’t been in a long time. Do you have any apples?"

"Yes. I’ll cut some up while you dress and make a pot of tea."

I dried slowly and rummaged in the bag of clothes, pulling out bra, panties, a clean pair of jeans and a turtleneck. I found a pair of hand-knit socks that Talia knit for me a few years ago and pulled them on.

Padding through the Loft to the kitchen area, I smiled, appreciating my friends. I slipped into a chair, pulled my feet up and hugged my knees.

"Tea." Nirvana announced. "Take a look at the Goddess."

I turned. Sunlight shimmered through the southern Loft windows, illuminating a slab of red stone at the base of the Goddess spine.

"Wow. You’ve got a lot done. You were working too. She’s beautiful."

"We both worked around the clock. I just finished first. Amazing when sunlight strikes her chakras. I wonder if I’ll have to rig up some kind of lighting system to really enhance the beauty of the stones. I have a call into my brother. You know he is a computer lighting wizard. I hope it can be done with minimal intrusion. I’m wondering about some kind of microchip that would produce light."

"You think in a completely different way about art. I always like listening to you. It expands my expectations of myself," I said.

"Well, you certainly expanded your possibilities with the piece in the next room. I thought you might need a ladder or to put it on the floor out here. It’s amazing. Are you ready to see it?"

"No." I took a chunk of cheese and an apple slice.

"Okay."

"I think I want to go home and see Moonie."

"Sure thing. I’m willing to drive you."

"No. That’s fine. I’ll drive."

We finished the meal in silence watching the sunshine shift across the Goddess chakras.

My coat hung across the back of the kitchen chair where I’d left it the night before. No Three nights before. Impossible. I pulled it on. Nirvana must have put my tennies under the table. I slipped my feet in and tied them, then slung my backpack over one shoulder.

The alley was in shadow and the contrast of bright sunlight in the parking space made me squint as I walked to the truck. Sunglasses and cell phone must be back at the Coop. I climbed in, inserted the key, depressed the clutch, gunned the accelerator. Nothing. Damn. I tried several times to get it to start but nothing happened.

A car drove up and parked as I got out of the truck, knowing it was futile to open the hood. I didn’t know a thing about cars. I’d have to take Nirvana’s offer for a ride home.

"Good mornin’, Dannah," I knew the deep brogue before I turned.

"Hi. Looks like you seem to find me when things are amiss. The truck won’t start. I was just going in to ask Nirvana to give me a ride."

"Perfect timing. I’m happy to give you a ride."

I sighed. What was it Harrie said about destiny? I couldn’t remember.

"What are you? Some kind of knight in shining armor?" I immediately felt foolish. Why imply that it was anything other than a coincidence.

"That would be my pleasure."

I opened the door on his rental and questioned all my motives. He obviously still didn’t have a job but was still driving the rental. Did I really want him to know where I lived? After all, Nirvana said he’d been around every day asking after me. That made me nervous. But persistence wasn’t a bad quality. I did like him. I turned now to see his profile in sunlight as he backed out using the rear view mirror.

Really a great profile. Good skin. A few freckles dotted his cheeks. Long lashes. Heavy eyebrows but tidy not askew. Full lips, a strong chin. Freshly shaven. I liked that in a man. No. No cologne. I sniffed. Good. I detested men in cologne. Silly preference I guess because I like to wear perfume. I just have never met a man who knows how to wear cologne subtly. They usually reek of the damned stuff and then I have to wash my hands after shaking a cologne drenched palm.

I turned my head forward, suddenly embarrassed that he knew I was studying him. I closed my eyes, trying to feel what was true. Not wanting to reproduce the mistakes of the past. I just felt safe with him. Was it okay to trust that? I didn’t know.

I gave him directions to my house.

H

"It’s a bright but brisk day," he said. "Would you like to go for that bowl of soup now?"

I laughed. "How can I resist. Yes. That would be perfect."

He turned from the route home and headed toward downtown. "I’m just becoming acquainted with Fondis but I’ve found a great spot for soup."

My stomach rumbled an answer. I guess I was hungry after all.

"I’m still learning to drive on the wrong side of the road," he explained as he made a turn. "Rather, the American side of the road. It really isn’t right or wrong. It’s just different and I’m having a bit of a challenge paying attention."

"I can’t imagine trying to drive in on the other side so I can appreciate the effort."

He pulled into a city parking lot. I waited while he put quarters in a slotted collection box. He pointed and steered me by the elbow toward the sidewalk. My elbow tingled. I liked the point of contact. He was a gentleman. I didn’t think I’d ever dated one. Or was it just a come-on pattern. I really shouldn’t be so skeptical. My other voice rallied. Be skeptical. Don’t make any more mistakes. Don’t break your heart.

"How long have you lived here?" he asked.

"Forever, it seems."

"Then you must know the Chowder House," he said.

"I’ve heard of it but I’ve never eaten there." I hoped he really was taking me to lunch as I realized I didn’t have any cash. He had invited me so I’d let it go and assume he would pick up the tab. I felt like I was coming out of a haze. I really should confront the painting for a completion of the process. Why was I so resistant?

The restaurant was crowded, the waiting room filled with people.

"Good Morning, sir," the maitre de said, guiding us past the line and into a back room with sunshine filtering through lace curtains. I wondered if he’d made reservations. White tablecloths, cloth burgundy napkins and a real rose in the middle of each table. No wonder I hadn’t eaten here before. It was very upscale. I’m sure Talia has been here. Probably Harrie too. Drat. I still haven’t heard about Harrie’s date. I need to find what’s her name? A stone and a color. Amethyst Green. Zip’s latest flame.

The maitre de held out the chair for me.

"Thank you." I unfolded the cloth napkin and smoothed it across my lap.

I looked up, wanting to study his eyes. Blue. An oh-my-God stunning blue, like a stone I’d seen at the lapidary.

"We haven’t been properly introduced," he said and smiled. The smile, like the eyes, totally captivating me.

"I’m Dannah Davidson," I reached my hand across the table. He took it.

"Pippin MacGregor, at your service."

His hand was large and warm. We stayed like that a tad too long. I wanted to be closer to him. I pulled my hand away first.

"And your accent…" I began.

"Scotland. I’ve visited the States a number of times but still can’t quite get the hang of American."

He’d traveled and so that means he has enough money to do that. Or he’s a drifter and just charms people with the accent thing and works enough to get to the next location.

The waiter placed a menu in front of me. Another put a crystal glass of iced water to my right. Classy service. A twenty percent tip to start with. I’d worked at various times as a waitress and knew what counted. Personal service, efficiecy. Talk when the customer needed you to, avoid interruption when that was required. Tend to details without being asked.

I watched him as his eyes glanced over the menu. He had great bone structure. Unusual to have dark lashes and eyebrows with that red hair, wavy, red to auburn in color. It didn’t look like he used product. His hair invited fingers.

Abruptly I studied the menu.

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter wore a white shirt, black pants and bow tie.

I knew without reading what I wanted. "Clam chowder, please."

"Manhattan or New England?"

"The white kind." I laughed. "I always forget which is which. Thanks."

"And what else, m’am?"

"Tea, please."

He nodded, without pressing me to expand my order and turned to Pippin. If I hadn’t eaten in three days, I better be careful. I still can’t believe it. It only seemed like a few hours. I’d worked overnight before but never a marathon like this. I took a sip of water.

"Oh, and a lime wedge for my water, please," I said.

The waiter left after Pippin ordered and a busboy delivered a butter plate with lime wedges.

"Tell me about your name. I haven’t heard of Pippin before. When Nirvana said it I didn’t know if it was your first name or last name. Is it a family name?"

He laughed. "Of sorts. I am the youngest of seven. My mother said ‘No more bairns.’ So, she called me Pippin, the youngest apple in the bunch." He grinned. He had great teeth.

"A pippin is…?"

"A little apple. Of course I turned out to be a big apple, taller even than my oldest brothers."

"And you? What does your name mean?"

"My mother wanted it to be a soft "a" so she spelled it to rhyme with Hannah," I explained.

The soup was served in beautiful bowls and a basket of biscuits set between us. He had such blue eyes.

The clam chowder was perfect and I ate little bites, savoring the comfort of it.

"Nirvana said you were working when I stopped by. What kind of work do you do?" he asked.

I hesitated. I didn’t want anyone to see that painting. I felt freed by the process but it was too intimate to share. "I’m a painter."

"I’d love to see what you were working on. It seemed like you were working day and night."

How did he know? "When did you stop by?"

"Oh, a couple of times." He looked down. "Once in the morning, then at night."

"Why?"

He looked sheepish. "I felt a connection the night we met."

So, he felt it too. I wasn’t imagining it. "And…?"

"I still feel it," he looked me long in the eyes. I tried not to shiver with the wanting more of him. "I don’t usually pick up women on a dark night." He lightened his words and his look.

"I don’t usually ride with strangers." We laughed, the tension eased.

H

The person who walked up to the table was uniformed but not a waiter. I looked up.

"Miss Davidson, sorry to interrupt you. Deputy Scott, if you recall." He nodded briefly to Pippin MacGregor.

"Of course. Hi, Marshall. This is Pippin MacGregor. How are you?" I really wanted to ask if he’d seen Lauren. I was really out of it, not keeping up with my friends.

"I just noticed you here. Would you mind stopping by the station later? We have something for you to identify." He kept a rigid stance but his tone was kind, like he felt sorry for me.

"Sure. No prob. I’ll stop by after lunch. Thanks."

I watched Deputy Marshall Scott exit and turned my attention back to Pippin Blue Eyes. He looked curious but refrained from asking. Cops tend to make me nervous like I’ve done something wrong. I’m okay with going to the station as long as I don’t have to ID a body.

"Oh, well. It’s a long story. I realize you must be busy. I’ll just walk on over to the Fondis Police Station after lunch." I didn’t want to interrupt his plans.

"No. I’ll drive you. I like long stories," he stopped abruptly like he knew he was pushing. "Whenever you’d like to be tellin’ them to me." He smiled.

"Thanks." I didn’t say anything more then. I didn’t want to start out with Zip and make him think my life was a tragedy. I felt quite free of Zip and didn’t need to go into all those repugnant details again.

H

We followed Deputy Marshall Scott to a back room that held a conference table. Marshall returned with Sgt. Reiner who carried a roll of brown wrapping paper. He laid it on the table and carefully unrolled it.

"Oh, my God," my hands flew to my mouth.

The airplane painting had been sliced into strips and lay asunder. I could tell they’d tried to put the pieces together.

"You do recognize this?" the Sgt. Asked.

I nodded, a lump in my throat. Somehow I’d been hoping that it would turn up and the potential buyer would love it and I’d have some cash in my pocket.

"I’m sorry, Dannah," Deputy Marshall Scott said and I knew he was. I could feel Pippin MacGregor’s presence behind me. I may want to bury my past but it looked like he was thrust into the middle of the evidence. I sighed, holding back tears.

"Case closed," the Sergeant said briskly. "You may take the remains of the painting."

Again I nodded. The Deputy and Sergeant left, closing the door behind them. I rolled the pieces back in the wrapping paper, my fingers trembling.

Pippin touched my arm. I turned into his embrace and sobbed against his silk shirt. I finally stopped and he handed me a white handkerchief.

"I need to go home now."

He squeezed my hand, opened the door for me and we left.

H

Silent on the way back to the Coop, I pointed but didn’t speak, giving directions but following my own muddled thoughts. I thought I left all this dismay on the canvas. Obviously I had more layers to address.

Pippin dropped me off. I didn’t invite him in. He didn’t make any overtures about the future.

"Moonie, are you here? Do you think I’m a bad mommy? Oh, look. Someone did feed you, poor kitty. Nirvana must have taken time out." The food and water dishes were full. "Or maybe the Colonel came over?" Half Moon stretched into an incredibly long cat, and rolled over on my bed. I set the shreds of the airplane angel against an easel and curled around the cat. I closed my eyes and drifted, soon sound asleep.

I awoke as the sun lay deep in the west, found my cell phone still charging and retreived half a dozen messages. I dialed Lauren.

"Hi, Honey," he said. "Don’t have time to talk. Come for dinner. Harrie will be here. I have so much to tell you."

"I’ll be there. Thanks." Good. I’d wait til tonight to catch up with both Harrie and Lauren. I dialed Talia and left a message. Reluctantly I found the psychiatrist’s number and dialed it. I made an appointment for Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. I called Nirvana and left a message saying I knew I had to face the canvas and when was a good time to come back.

I found a 16 x 24 canvas, pulled out my oil paints and began to draw soup eyes. Pippin had the most fabulous eyes. And smile. I worked without stopping, just seeing his face as he looked at me over lunch, the long inviting look that we’d both pulled away from. I selected a finer squirrel tail brush, putting in more detail. Still the light was behind him in my memory but the shadows on his face made him look more the mystery man. I still didn’t know enough about him. Everyone seemed to treat him with respect. I liked that. I always felt like I had to explain Zip’s behavior. I wouldn’t do that again. And I needed to stop comparing him to Zip.

I wanted to focus on what was really going on for me. Was this an overreaction to Zip’s death? A rebound relationship? Well, it wasn’t even a relationship. I had lunch with the guy. Get a grip, girl. I painted that wavy hair that longed to be touched. No. That I longed to touch. I wanted to be honest with myself from now on. I didn’t want to hide or bury feelings.

What did I feel? Very connected to this man. What does connected mean? We both felt it. It meant more than lunch. I didn’t believe in that soul mate stuff everyone talked about. But it didn’t seem like an accident that he was in my life now. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself over him but I did hope he’d call. Did I give him my number? Shit. I wondered where I put his number.

All the while, I painted, catching his cheekbones, the fine line of his nose, the tender lips, the strong jaw. I sat back and Moonie stirred, jumped from the bed and circled my ankles. Yes, that was who I saw today. All in blues with the bright eyes shining. I wanted more detail. I wanted to touch his cheek, feel his hair, examine the shape of his ears. I wanted to paint him—oh, yes, all of him.

It was dark outside when I realized I didn’t have a vehicle. I called Lauren. He had a cake in the oven and couldn’t leave. Maybe I could catch Harrie. Instead I called Talia’s brother Sam and told him about the truck.

"I’ll take a look at it. It’s probably something simple. It has lots of idiocyncracies that I never even think about. I’ll call you right back." He hung up before I could ask what that meant.

I cleaned my brushes in odorless turpentine, still missing the fumes of the real thing. Wiping them on an old tee shirt, I put them away, and gazed at the painting. Yes, I definitely wanted to see more of that man.

My cell sang its song. "Yes?"

"Sam, here. I’m at Nirvana’s. There was a catch in the accelerator caused by the mat. I’ve checked everything else and it’s running fine as we speak. I’ll come pick you up so you can drive it. You still live at the Coop?"

H

I could smell garlic before I even opened the front door. "Oh, Lauren, it smells fabulous," I called out as I hung my coat on a rack.

"Perfect timing, Little One. I just put the finishing touches on the frosting. Harrie will be here any minute. Come. Sit. Would you like something to drink? Wine? Grape juice? Oh, let me make you a surprise." He smiled and whirled back into the kitchen as I sank unto the white sofa. Carol Channing meowed from behind the sofa and jumped behind my head.

"Hi, Carol, kitty." She flicked her tail across my face and jumped to the cushion next to me. "Oh. Stand offish tonight, eh?" She turned the other way. I ran my hand across her beautiful champagne colored fur.

"Here you go. The Dannah Special," he handed me a tall glass filled with sparkling water and lime juice and …I tasted slowly, trying to figure out what else was in it.

"A splash of fresh pineapple juice. Do you love it, Sweetheart?"

"I love it and I love you, Lauren. Thanks. I can’t wait to hear what you have to tell us."

Harrie came in the back door. "Honey, I’m home," she called out. She and Lauren shared their favorite greeting.

Harrie looked fabulous in a form fitting dress and heels. Lauren, in tight leather pants, a leopard top and spiked heels looking stunning in his own way. I wore jeans and a sweatshirt, paint still under my fingernails. Oh, well. If I had an actual date with Pippin MacGregor, I’d deck myself out too.

The formal dining table was set with sterling silver on an Irish linen table cloth and bone china plates. Lauren placed a large serving dish with lasagna in the center of the table. He insisted that we sit while he served. Next he brought in a bowl of steamed fresh vegetables and fresh baked French bread.

"To new relationships," he beamed, holding his wine glass high.

"To better relationships," Harrie said, following suit.

"To both," I said, tipping my Dannah Special glass to theirs.

They both looked at me suspiciously but said nothing.

"You go," Harrie said to Lauren.

"No, you," he replied.

They batted back and forth repeating. I wasn’t going to go first so I waited while they figured it out.

"Okay," Harrie said. "First, I have to tell you about slim ball Johnathon Jacobs, the one nighter. No, not in my bed, thank you very much." She flipped her hair and took a sip of wine.

"I really went out with him as a favor to Tad who’d asked me if I’d go out to dinner with a business associate. I figured why not. We went to that new place on the bluff with a view of the Bijou. It is very elegant and has wonderful artwork. After dinner I went to the powder room and then wandered around a bit looking at paintings. I was standing in front of a Picaso, no, I’m certain it was real. I had my hands behind my back and I was just studying it, wondering about the art world in general." She flashed a smile at me and then frowned, continuing her story.

"I felt something in my hands. Yes, it was Mr. Jacobs, pushing his privates into my palms. Can you believe it? I whirled around and slapped him."

"Good for you. Asshole," I said.

"I stalked to the front door, wondering what I was going to do to get back down to the city. I’m sure cab service goes up there but I was so flustered. The manager came to my assistance." She gave a bow with her head.

"He apparently had observed the interchange and offered, in a lovely French accent, to personally assist me to my home. I wasn’t too sure I even wanted him to know where I live so I accepted and had him drop me off at Talia’s gate. Pooh was snarling like crazy until Leonardo came out. He’s wearing a uniform now. He opened the gate and greeted me like I lived there. Later, Talia gave me a ride home. Can you believe the audacity of that man?" She bristled in the retelling.

"This could be Down on Men Month," I said.

Lauren whined like a dog.

"But it isn’t. I’m never down on you, Lauren." I reached across and patted his hand. He fluttered his long mascara-ed eyelashes.

"My turn?" Lauren asked.

"Not yet, my dear. But wait. There’s more." Harrie simpered.

"Tad Duncan called the next day to see how it went. I was still so furious that I told him exactly what happened. I’ve never heard anyone so apologetic. He thought it was his fault. I didn’t argue but I did accept the damned date. Blind schmind. Forget dates with men you don’t know. But then I guess I’d forget dating all together."

"I think there’s more to your story. So, do tell more about Tad Duncan. He’s a good looking man. I’ve seen him at the bank. He seems very gracious with customers," I said.

"Very handsome," Lauren agreed.

"He said he’d like to take me out and show me how a gentleman should treat a lady. I was so miffed about the whole thing that I told him he had to call me Harriet. Nobody calls me Harriet anymore besides my mother." She laughed. "So, yes, the upside of my story is that I have a date with Tad tomorrow night. We’re having dinner and dancing at the Fondis Country Club." She cocked her head coquettishly. "Now, my dear, your turn."

Lauren sighed with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Well, you all know Mr. Wonderful, Deputy Marshall-Can’t-Take-My-Eyes-Off-Him Scott. Our first date was very quiet. We met at the Fondis Library and went for a long cold walk, getting to know each other. It was so romantic. We didn’t kiss or anything. Just talked.

"Our next date we went dancing at the Down Under. It’s a gay club on the south side of town. Oh, to feel his hard body next to mine was a dream come true." He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it.

"Our next date is tomorrow. We’re going out to dinner. He has to be discrete because of his job. I understand that. We still haven’t been any more physical than dancing. You’d be surprised how many cops are gay. Anyway, Talia said he was welcome to join us at the Palace on Thanksgiving. He has to work an early shift and then he’ll go on up there. Isn’t that great."

Harrie and Lauren grinned at each other. I smiled and drained the Dannah Special concoction. They both were suddenly staring at me.

"What?"

"You’re next. What story do you have to tell?"

I shrugged.

"You’re a tease," Harrie complained.

"Really, Dannah. What’s happened since we saw each other," Lauren urged.

I told them about the three days at Nirvana’s, about the painting, about meeting Pippin MacGregor, about the lunch. About Deputy Marshall Scott, Lauren’s lover boy, and the police station. I tried not to tell them how I was feeling about Pippin MacGregor.

"You be careful, Dannah," Harrie warned. "You’re going to fall in love."

"Never," I denied vehemently.

"Be full of care, Dannah," Lauren said quietly from across the table.

"Just like you two?"

Dessert was the lightest of cakes with fresh whipped cream and strawberries.

"I’m sorry to be a party pooper and leave, but I need my beauty sleep," I said, hugging both of them.

"Take care, Little One," Lauren said, kissing the top of my head.

"Call me," Harrie said, kissing my cheek.

H

I slept like a bear, deep and long. Dreams verged on nightmares and melted into angels in the sky, hovering and protective. I didn’t dream of Zip and I didn’t dream of Pippin. I wouldn’t have minded those deep blue eyes in my dreams. In the bright light of day, I wondered if I’d ever hear from him again. He saw me crumble at the Police Station and then he saw where I live.

I climbed out of bed and stretched toward the slanted roof. If he didn’t like where I lived, then I didn’t want anything to do with his judgmental handsome self. So there. And I didn’t want to make up anything about him. I just wanted to learn who he really was, not project anything.

I stirred up a pot of old fashioned oatmeal, poured on a splash of nonfat milk and a good glob of honey. Remembering the packets of vitamins Talia had given me, I rummaged in the drawer and pulled one out. A good start to the day.

In my tiny, turnaround bathroom I studied my face in the mirror. I looked more relaxed. It was time to take charge of my life. I had a zillion things to do: face the monstrosity of a painting, call Nirvana to see when I could go over there, try to find Amethyst, paint that profile image of Pippin that haunted me since the first night, and try not to think of him. Yeah, right. Call the Colonel and check on him.

First things first. I straightened up. Exercise, I needed to add that to the list. Maybe get back in Robin’s yoga class if she wants to trade for a painting again. I always feel good after yoga. And I needed to check the garden for any end of the season things I’d overlooked.

The angel from the night came into my mind and then hovered over a canvas. I suddenly saw how to reconstruct the Airplane Angel. Every other thought evaporated. Still in my pajamas I pulled aside the bed and examined the canvases I’d already stretched. None were large enough. That meant pushing everything I owned to the sides of the room and making a workspace on the floor. In the midst of that, I unplugged the cell phone from the charger and clipped it to my backpack, finally putting it where it belonged.

In no time I’d stretched a 36 x 48 canvas and sized it with gesso.

Now I had to wait ‘til it was dry. I unclipped the cell and called Nirvana. She said it was fine to come over. The Goddess was finished and the Womyn’s Centre was going to display her in the lobby of their new building. They’d be loading her out this morning but it was fine for me to be in the small studio room.

I showered with a smile on my face, feeling good about the Airplane Angel and happy for Nirvana. I applied foundation, eye shadow, mascara, blush. Slipped on a dangly pair of earrings, sprayed perfume behind my ears. Just in case. No. I wasn’t going to do that anymore. I put it on to please myself. If someone else happened to be pleased with the results, so be it. I laughed out loud, filled Moonie’s bowl and pulled on a clean pair of jeans, a tank top with a soft, vee-neck, cashmere sweater, a hand me down from Talia. She was much taller but I had bigger breasts so it evened out. I rolled it under at the waist.

H

Sari Thompson waved from the back steps of the Colonel’s house. I walked up the path to greet her.

"How’re you doing, Sari?" I asked, giving her a hug.

"I’m fine…" A look flashed across her face that worried me.

"And the Colonel?"

"It’s not your fault, ya know," she began.

Shit. "What?"

"Well, you know it all started when he took on the care of Moonie. Now I’d say he is moon crazed for that new cat of his. When it’s too cold to go out for a walk, he warms up that old Army jeep and takes the cat for a ride, mind you." She huffed in exasperation.

"And the Colonel? He’s okay? His health is good?"

"Fit as a fiddle and I’m fit to be tied. Cat leaves hair all over the house and…"

I laughed. "Thanks, Sari. You give the Colonel my regards, okay? I’ve got to run. Take care and don’t let that cat get the best of you." I smiled, touched her creased old face and headed back to the alley to walk to the Loft.

The sun shone in a clear blue sky, winter brisk. I walked rapidly, enjoying the cold air in my lungs and the length of my stride. Just because I was short, didn’t mean I couldn’t keep up with long legged folks and sometimes put them in the dust. I wanted to enjoy the good feeling as long as I could. Somehow, I didn’t look forward to the prospect of viewing the Monster painting as it had become in my mind.

Half an hour later, I paused as the Loft came into view. The garage type door on the south wall was open and a crew of men were loading the Chakra Goddess unto a flatbed. Nirvana was running around, pointing and giving directions. I stood back, watching. I’m sure she was worried about the stone slabs breaking. The Goddess body was welded so securely I was sure nothing could damage it.

As the truck pulled out, the Goddess secured with ropes, I walked toward Nirvana.

"What a headache. Loading big pieces makes me a nervous wreck," she said.

"Looks like they managed alright."

"I’m going over to supervise the unloading at the Womyn’s Centre lobby. Wanna come along?" She pressed the button on the door opener and it slowly lowered to the ground.

"I think I’ll stay here and deal with my own demons," I laughed to cover my discomfort.

"Sam came by with a tow truck and took the pick up. He wants to talk to you. Did he leave a message on your cell?" she asked.

"I didn’t check. I’ll deal with the monster within and then give him a ring. Good luck with the Goddess," I said as we hugged.

Nirvana hopped in her late model truck and drove off.

H

I shed my coat and hat and dropped them on a kitchen chair. Nirvana’s workspace looked empty without the Chakra Goddess. Maybe that would inspire her to work on another piece. Hesitantly I walked to the door where the Monster rested.

I fumbled with the door knob and decided I needed a drink of water. Sunshine streamed through the windows in slices of light. I squinted, seeing the darkness against the contrast. I’d like to paint the feeling I had. I turned the faucet at the sink and filled a glass of water and held it to the light. Just that. A glass of water and slices of dark and light. I pulled a sketch pad out of my back pack and quickly drew the impression, writing notes on the side for a reminder.

I tipped the glass and drank until it was empty. Fortified, I turned and walked directly to the door and opened it. Dim light entered the upper windows here. I closed the door behind me and headed for the cot where I knew I’d get the best perspective on the painting.

Sitting on the cot, leaning back against the wall, I sighed and sank my face into my hands.

"Damn, why is this so hard?" I muttered.

I looked up, determined to accept what I had released. I studied the painting for a long time, seeing the beauty of the past, the hope of a relationship, the demise of expectation, the anger, the pain, the hurt and the elevation of my spirit to survive past it all. It was too much. The emotions of those three days of creation rose again and lumped in my throat. Tears ran down my cheeks like streams of ice water.

"It is over. Done," I said, standing.

I tried to dislodge the painting from its place; I climbed a ladder and probed and pulled. Finally I grabbed a hammer and ripped the canvas from the frame, little by little until it almost knocked me down when it collapsed.

I kicked it and stomped it and screamed at it.

Pulling off my cashmere sweater, I tackled the painting, pulling the ends toward each other, wrestling it into a ball, rolling on it to pack it down, end it, get rid of it.

Exhausted, I finally collapsed backward over the mounded canvas and laughed.

H

I walked pensively toward downtown Fondis. Something cathartic happened back at the Loft. I should be jubilant but I just felt quiet. Nothing tugged at me one way or the other. I nodded and smiled at acquaintances as I got into town.

I settled my backpack on a bench in the town square, unclipped my cell, searched the address book and punched ‘dial.’

"Hi, Sam. Dannah here. I’m so sorry about the truck. I feel awful," I began, worried about the borrowed vehicle dying.

"Dannah, girl, don’t worry. I shouldn’t have let you use that old truck in the first place. Can you come over to the shop? I have a proposition to make to you."

"Sure. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. See ya."

Hoisting my backpack, I headed off to Sam’s Auto Repair.

His office was dusty and filled with automobile books, engine belts, miscellaneous parts and a computer.

"Have a seat, Dannah." He pointed to a chair. I pushed aside an auto manual and coat and sat on the edge. "I didn’t think about you having to walk over here."

"I like to walk."

"Well, here’s my idea. You need a vehicle."

"You can’t fix my old truck?" I interrupted.

"It’s not worth it. There’s more wrong than right with that old clunker. So, like I was saying, you need wheels."

I nodded, stunned that I couldn’t get the truck fixed.

"I just finished fixing up a VW bug, not one of the old ones, mind you. A new one. They had a few problems but I’ve corrected them on this one. I can let you have it very reasonably. It was a payment from another client who didn’t have cash so I took the bug. Basically I just have parts and labor in it. So…"

"Sam, you know I don’t have any money. I was going to have to make payments on the transmission."

"That’s where my proposition comes in. I’ll trade you the VW straight across for one of your paintings."

My mouth opened but nothing came out.

"I hope you still have one called Angel Helpers. My wife really liked that when she went to your show up in Denver. She talks about it all the time. If you think it was a fair trade, I’ll give her the painting for Christmas."

"Sam, I hardly know what to say. I do have Angel Helpers still. It’s in a gallery in up in Vail but I’m sure it hasn’t sold. I can get it here in a couple of days." I’d put a very high price on that painting to cover gallery percentages. "It is one of my dream paintings, Sam. I sometimes wake up with pictures in my head and then I paint them. Often they come with the title, like that one. I just saw this family at the dining table with an angel in attendance to each person. So I painted it."

"So, we have a deal?"

"Let me call first to make sure."

I dialed the Vail gallery and they agreed reluctantly to release it before the time. I promised to send two more paintings in its place as a compromise. They’d ship it out tomorrow. I hung up.

"It’s a deal."

Sam walked me out to the back of the shop and showed me a shiny blue VW beetle. "Sam, are you sure this is a fair trade?"

"I’m sure. Here are the keys. If you have any trouble, it’s guaranteed for the first year. Here’s the pink slip and all the repair records," he said, handing me a file folder from the front seat. "You’ll have to go to the court house to register it. Then it’s all yours."

"Sam, you’re the greatest. Thank you," I hugged him. He backed away, seeming embarrassed. Sometimes my enthusiasm does that to people.

H

It’s not always easy to find a comfortable car when you’re short. This one was perfect. I loved it. I took care of the paperwork first thing, still not believing my good fortune. A short car for a short person. And blue, the blue of Pippin MacGregor’s eyes. I certainly would like to see that man.

I drove through the back streets of Fondis, into the suburbs and back again. I couldn’t wait to drive up to Talia’s and see how it did on her roads. The framed canvas at the Coop called me. Finally I drove home.

Half Moon had left paw prints in the gesso. I laughed. It would be a design factor, if it showed at all.

The canvas was too big to fit on my easel, so I hung it on nails on the wall, got out my palette and started to paint. Most of the surface was sky and clouds with an elongated angel on top, stretching out like a Modigliani.

By the time I finished that phase of the painting it was dark. I put on the tea kettle and turned to study the painting. Tomorrow I’d have to get two paintings off to the Vail gallery.

A knock at the door pulled my attention back to the present. I pushed a hand through my tangled locks and opened it.

"Pippin," I said in surprise, knowing the pleasure must show on my face.

"Dannah, I trust it be a good time to visit?"

"Absolutely. I’m just between phases. Come in."

Pippin MacGregor ducked his head and stepped into the Coop. I suppressed a giggle. The roof was lower at this end than where I slept and painted and his hair, bronzed in the dim light, seemed to brush the ceiling.

He handed me cellophane wrapped flowers and I beamed.

"Thank you." I unwrapped them and gasped. "Iris. You can’t get iris in November," I said in astonishment.

"You like them, then?"

"Pippin MacGregor, I love them. Irises are my favorite flowers. But how?" I turned and opened a cupboard to pull out a vase.

"A friend of mine owns a hot house in Fondis. He’s experimenting with all kinds of flowers and how to alter their natural times of production. I asked him to experiment with iris long before I came to the States." Before shrugging off his overcoat, he set a box of pizza on the kitchen table and settled into a chair.

"You did? Why iris? That smells delicious. I’m famished."

"So, you haven’t had dinner yet?"

"No, I was just fixing tea. Perfect timing." I smiled at him and pulled two plates off a shelf.

There wasn’t room on the table for flowers and pizza so I put the beautiful iris on the counter and slid into the other chair.

"Why iris?" He returned to my question. "I had a dream of a beautiful woman walking in a meadow of iris with an angel flying over her."

I stopped cutting a slice of pizza and stared at him. "I had the same dream. The painting is going to Vail tomorrow. How can that be?"

"I don’t know. Mother said to pay attention to my dreams and I always have. They guided me here to Fondis."

"They did? I don’t understand. What do you do? Why are you here? This is too weird a coincidence."

"Me mither didn’t believe in coincidences. She said it was meant to be." His accent thickened.

"Maybe it is," I said, shaking my head. "I’ll show you the painting later."

"Yes, I should explain myself. There are several reasons I am in Fondis. I told you I was between jobs. I was an aerospace engineer working out of London. Then I was offered a job in a new plant opening here in Fondis. I’ve been to the States many times and thought about living here. I was very divided about taking the job. I went on holiday back to Scotland and talked it over with me mum. Da’s been gone a good while now and I try to go back as often as I can."

He was looking off into the distance as if he could see his childhood home. Neither of us ate. Of course he had a job. I knew that deep down but am so skittish. I really must get over that.

"She told me to sleep on. I guess I took it to heart. I had the iris dream that night. The next night I had another dream," he pulled his eyes from memory and looked directly at me, those blue orbs captivating me.

"I dreamed of a woman. I saw her energy if you understand that."

I nodded, understanding and not.

"The shape of her head, the bounce of her hair, the dimple when she smiled. She was part of my answer when I went back to London. I gave my notice and came straight away to the States. That’s why I knew you when I saw you in the parking lot that first night we met." He stopped, waiting for an answer I assumed.

I didn’t know what to say. "I was in your dream?"

"Yes. You were in the field of iris and you were in the second dream. I don’t exactly understand it all but I’d like to get to know you."

"Me too, you." I grinned and busied myself serving pizza and making tea. This was too weird. Deirdre and Nirvana would have plenty of explanations. I had to figure out how to tell him who I was, all the bad things I’d been through. Maybe he’d take his pizza and go.

"The other reason I officially came was to head up the Fondis Pipe &Drum Corp. They’re just a grade 4 now and heard I might be coming out. I agreed. I’m a grade 1 piper."

"You play the bagpipes?"

"I do, lassie. I hope you like the pipes."

"I love them. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a kilt, either." I grinned.

"Come to the Fondis Thanksgiving parade then." He returned my grin.

H

I slept fitfully that night, dreaming of angels rising out of iris flowers and waking to sketch them. I decided to do a card series of angels and flowers. Nirvana knew someone who reproduced art cards and distributed them. He’d urged me to work on a series but I hadn’t been inspired until now.

I’d smile until I fell asleep again, Moonie stretched along my side. I couldn’t stop thinking about how comfortable I felt with Pippin MacGregor. We’d sat next to each other on the bed as there is no sofa. Just talking felt good although I was all too aware of his body touching mine like a streak of fire whenever we moved close. He looked through sketchbooks, always complimentary about my work. He loved the iris angel lady and asked if I would not send her to Vail. He paid full price for her and wrote a check right then. Now I was covered until the end of the year. And I still had several paintings that would be perfect for Vail. I don’t know why I hadn’t sent the Mountain Angel before. An angel hovered over a valley town tucked between the mountains. That and the Angelic Santa would be fine. I slept deeply until dawn.

H

"Dannah, good to see you," Hubert said as I walked into the Pack & Send Shop. "Got some paintings going out?"

I handed him one of the paintings. "I’ll be right back with the other one," I said.

"Don’t worry. Charlie," he yelled over his shoulder, "Get a painting out of Ms. Davidson’s car, will ya? And be careful."

"Maybe I should get it," I said as the lanky teenager with spiked hair headed for the VW.

"Not to worry, little lady. Charlie is an artist himself. I guess I just give him a bad time. This is a good job for him right now. But you wait. He’ll be an up and coming artist with a known name soon enough."

Hubert was right. Charlie handled the painting with utmost care and respect.

"Thanks," I said.

Charlie mumbled something and headed to the back of the shop.

"Got yerself a new car, I see. Good for you." Hubert nodded as he rang up my bill.

"I can write a check for this but don’t cash it today. I’m on my way to the bank."

"No problem." He rubbed his mustache. "Nice work here, Dannah. Glad you’re doing so well. These go to the same gallery in Vail, huh?" he said, scanning the computer screen.

"Thanks, Hubert. I should be receiving a painting back from them." I always had them shipped back here if they didn’t sell. Hubert took good care of them until I could pick them up. "The only problem I’ll have with my new little car is not being able to carry big paintings."

"We’ll come over and pick them up for you, don’t worry," Hubert reassured me.

I hadn’t thought about that option. "Great. See ya soon."

I headed back to the Coop, ready to work on the Airplane Angel. As I got out of the bug, I saw the Colonel marching down the path to the Coop, his chest stuck out like a turkey. I always thought I should salute him.

"’Morning, Colonel," I called out.

"Glad to see you, Dannah. Wondered if that Moon Cat would like to take a walk with us." I saw he had his cat on a leash.

"I don’t know. He was asleep the last time I saw him. Let me see." I opened the door and called Moonie. He stretched, blinking.

"Rise and shine," the Colonel called out. "Time to get a few miles in before lunch, you lazy good for nothin critter."

Half Moon ran to the Colonel to be scratched under the chin. The Colonel produced a leash, snapped it on and the trio headed off down the alley.

"Good. Now I can work uninterrupted," I said, leaving the door open for the winter warm sun to shine in.

I took the painting off the wall and placed it on the floor, unrolled the strips of the Airplane Angel and arranged them in order like a puzzle. The edges were razor cut with no fraying. Carefully I placed them on the larger canvas, each piece an inch apart so the sky shone through, the Modigliani angel overlooking all. I stood back to survey the effect. It felt like Magritte now. The masters of the past helping me like the angel helped the travelers.

I stirred up a batch of glue, water and another new adhesive and carefully brushed the back of each strip and applied it to the canvas, pressing firmly to see that it held without bubbles or glitches on the edge. Time passed as it does when I’m deep in the process of creation.

I sat back on my knees, realizing they hurt. The painting looked exactly as I expected and better than the original. Slowly I stood, rubbing my legs. I had to wait for it to dry before I hung it back on the wall for inspection.

I heard a tune in the distance. I shook my head. I didn’t remember turning on the radio. I couldn’t take my eyes off the work. It gave me ideas for other paintings. Collage technique, oil on oil, maybe strips interwoven, one panel being a different image than the cross panel.

The music was closer now, one of my favorites but I couldn’t place it. I walked to the door, wondering if I’d left the radio on in the car and was running down the battery.

I recognized his dark red hair first, catching beams of glowing sunlight. Then I saw his outfit, the kilts and white cabled socks, a dirk tucked properly to the right side. His cheeks puffed out as he played, walking slowly toward me. There was no way I could stop smiling, nor halt the tears that rose to my eyes. This was one special man.

He paused several yards away and ended the tune. The pipe wheezed out a breath of its own.

"Pippin MacGregor, you’re a wonder," I managed.

"Ya liked it then? I didna know what to play for ye, there are so many tunes but I wanted one ye’d like and might know. Scotland the Brave is always a favorite."

"I loved it. What ever you’d play, I’d love. Thank you." I saw the Colonel returning down the alley, not toward his front door. I turned and closed the door, not wanting Half Moon’s help at this stage of the painting.

"Oh, Pippin, would you mind playing some military tune for the Colonel? He’s just heading up the alley now. I know it would make his day."

Pippin elbowed the bag, put the chanter in his mouth and fiddled with the longer pipes. I watched in fascination as he blew and I recognized the tune. He turned toward the alley.

The Colonel and the cats came to an abrupt stop. The old man shifted a leash to the left hand so it now held two. Then he drew himself more erect if that were possible, and saluted with his right.

H

Pippin was off to practice with the pipe band. The Colonel took both cats up to his house, scolding them like they were wayward privates.

As the sun set, I closed the Coop door, edged around the painting on the floor and stretched out on the bed with my cell phone. I’d found the number of Amethyst Green and dialed.

"Hello, Amethyst," I said hesitantly, not really wanting to go through with this conversation at all.

"Amethyst isn’t here right now. May I take a message?"

"Uh, well, yes, maybe. This is Dannah Davidson and I’m trying to get ahold of her. Do you know when she’ll be back?"

"No. This is her sister Citrine. Not for a while."

"What does that mean? A few hours? A few days?"

"I don’t know. Maybe longer. After she got out of the hospital, she was pretty riled up and just took off."

"Oh. I didn’t know she’d been in the hospital. Why’d she go in? Is she okay now?" I was afraid of the answer.

"She had a scum bag boyfriend beat her up pretty bad. She’s okay physically but she was plenty angry with him. Every time the phone rings, I hope to hear her voice. I was afraid she was going to kill him."

"What was his name?" Like I didn’t know.

"Tip or Hip or something. Can’t remember the last name if I ever heard it. She met him out there at Burning Man. That shoulda given her a clue to start with." She sighed into the phone.

"Zip. Was it Zip?" I persisted.

"Yea, that was it. I remember now. Like a zip code. Goddamn bastard."

Or a zipper which he kept pulling down.

"Citrine, I’m sorry to hear about Amethyst. I was calling to tell her she didn’t have to worry about Zip anymore. He’s dead."

"Dead? You mean that? He’s dead? Well, there must be a god after all." I heard her cigarette cough.

"Yes. That’s what I thought. Look if you hear from Amethyst and she wants to talk, give her my number. Do you have a pencil?"

I hung up, feeling rather depressed. How many other women had Zip hurt? If only he’d taken his meds and stayed straight. Well, if-onlys never got you anywhere.

My cell phone rang.

"Hi, Harrie," I said after checking the caller ID.

"Dannah, darling. How are you? You can tell I’m fabulous, can’t you? But first, you. Are you okay?"

"Yea, I’m okay. So, did Mr. Marvelous ask you out again?"

"Yes, yes, yes. And he likes cats. And he’s coming with me to Talia’s on Thanksgiving. AND I just talked to Lauren and Marshall Scott is his Thanksgiving date."

I’d forgotten about Thanksgiving. I wondered if Pippin MacGregor would like to go with me. I wondered how long they practiced on the bagpipes.

"Are you there, Dannah? Isn’t that wonderful?"

"Um hmm. Yes, Harrie. Or am I to say Harriet also?"

"Whatever you want to call me, I’ll answer," she said and laughed.

"Okay, Hairy Harrie," I teased with an old name we laughed over long ago. "You called at the perfect time. I was a little down in the dumps after my last call." I told her about Citrine and Amethyst. I also told her about Pippin MacGregor and the Colonel. I felt better. I pulled an afghan over me and took a nap.

H

The cell phone rang. I didn’t know what time it was.

"Hello?" I tried to sound awake.

"Dannah, am I calling too late?" Pippin didn’t have to identify himself. I’d recognize his voice anywhere.

"No. I just took a nap. What time is it?"

"After nine. We’ve just finished practice. Would you like some company?"

"You’re bringing the pipe band here? I don’t think they’ll fit." I laughed.

"No. Just me. I already know I fit."

It seemed like an accidental double entendre but we both paused for an awkward moment.

"Yes, I’d like to see you. See you when you get here. Have you had dinner?" I thought I had a box of soup in the cupboard. Shopping hadn’t been a high priority lately.

"No. I’ll pick something up on my way over if that’s alright."

"Great." I clicked off and jumped to me feet, avoiding the painting on the floor as I inched my way into the bathroom. No time for a shower. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on fresh make up. A splash of perfume. Tugging a wide comb through my hair, I glanced in the mirror, thinking it was as good as it was going to get tonight.

I tested the painting. The strips felt dry. Next I’d overlay a varnish that would hold it all together—but that would be tomorrow. I hung the resurrected Airplane Angel on the wall nails and studied it. Yes. It would do.

I straightened the bed covering, cleaned off the counters and the table and put on one of my favorite Celtic CDs. By the time Pippin MacGregor knocked, the Coop was tidy, or as tidy as a tiny space could get when one had lots of art supplies.

"Pippin, come in," I started to say. But it wasn’t Pippin.

"Lauren. Marshall, come in."

"Thanks, Dannah. We won’t stay long." Lauren looked elegant in a sleek black dress with a diamond pendant. He wore a long red woolen coat. Marshall was dressed up too. "We’re off to the Masquerade Ball but Marshall saw one of the cops from his division walking his dog. We thought we’d just drop by here for a bit." He turned to flutter his eyelashes at Marshall who looked back moon-eyed.

"Yes, we’re walking," Marshall answered my unspoken question. "I don’t live far from here and we wanted a chance to talk on our way. It’s such a beautiful night to be out with a beautiful person." He slid his arm around Lauren’s slim waist.

"Sit. Can I offer you something? I think I have grape juice."

"No thanks," they said in unison and smiled at each other.

A knock on the door shifted my obligations as a spontaneous hostess.

"Pippin, come in. I have friends here."

He ducked through the door, placed a bag on the kitchen table and eased toward the area with a higher ceiling.

"You remember Marshall from the other day. He’s out of uniform now."

"Of course. Good to see you again, Marshall. Are you going to come back to the band? I’ve heard you’re a really good drummer. We need someone like you on the bohran."

Marshall flushed. "You’re the new band leader? I had a problem with the last one. I’ll consider coming back now. If it works out with Lauren." He turned toward his date.

"Honey, I didn’t know you played the drums. Ohhh, I love a drummer." Lauren smiled and ran a hand along Marshall’s arm. "Don’t worry, I’ll encourage him. I’m Lauren, by the way." He smiled his beautiful red lips and reached out a gloved hand.

"My pleasure. I’m Pippin MacGregor." They shook hands.

"I think we should be off," Marshall said and assisted Lauren from his seat.

"Thanks, Sweetie, for letting us stop by. I’m really pleased to meet your Pippin." He wiggled his eyebrows at me. "See you on Thanksgiving."

"Have fun tonight." I tried to ignore his remark and hoped Pippin hadn't taken it the wrong way.

It was like musical chairs as everything shifted carefully and the masqueraded couple pulled out their masks and waved adieu.

H

I couldn’t sleep that night. I tossed and turned on the narrow bed, thinking of Pippin MacGregor and our obvious attraction. We hadn’t "done" anything. He hadn’t even kissed me but the heat that rose between us was palpable.

I wanted to start with a clean slate with this man and I wanted to be fair to him. I wanted him to understand me, to know that things had been rough and I was healing. And I was afraid. Afraid of losing him when he did learn the truth. Afraid of how my body might react as we became more intimate.

We sat at my tiny kitchen table eating guacamole and chips followed by burritos and he’d told me stories of Scotland and places he’d traveled. After dinner he told me how bagpipes were cleaned and it was so gross sounding that I laughed. He said he didn’t talk about it during a meal. I was so at ease with him, not anxious or afraid.

I worried about how he expressed anger. That was the truth of a relationship. Not how you could be sweet and lovey dovey. What happened when he was pissed off? I wanted to talk about it before it happened, maybe set some ground rules.

I got up and eased my way through the dark to get a drink of water and climbed back into bed, finally sleeping as a gray dawn lit the windows.

The phone rang a few hours later. I don’t know why I worry that someone will know they woke me up. I always try to sound bright and cheery like I’ve been up for hours. Well, I had, hours of the night.

"Hello," I couldn’t read the caller ID in the dim light.

"Good Morning, Dannah." His voice made my heart ache it sounded so good.

"I was thinking about you." All night long.

"As I was of you," he replied.

"Are you up for taking a walk? I’d like to talk." I was always better when I was walking and I really had to address these issues with him. I wanted to touch him, to hear him speak my name in an intimate way, to…

"Yes. Exactly. I wanted to talk also. Where would you like to walk?"

"Meet me at Lake Fondis in an hour. There’s a parking lot by Bait & Tackle Shop," I said.

"Would you like me to pick you up?"

"No. I’ll just meet you." I didn’t want to explain that he may not want anything to do with me after he’s heard my story.

"I’ll see you in an hour than, Dannah." I could hear disappointment in his voice. There was a lot more disappointment to come, I feared.

I had time to fix oatmeal but I wasn’t hungry. I made a cup of chai and headed for my mini shower. Hot water revived me. I was willing to pretend I’d had a good night’s sleep.

I pulled jeans on over a pair of black undies with lace. I could feel sexy underneath, at least. A black turtleneck with a silver pendant Harrie had given me of some Celtic knotwork. I liked the design of the piece and added a pair of silver earrings.

Towel drying my hair, I wondered how to start the conversation with him. I couldn’t just say I was raped by my ex-husband who I’d been stupid enough to marry in the first place. And stupid enough to let back in my life. I put on my make up carefully and smiled at my image in the mirror. Not bad. A dab of perfume. I pulled an old pair of Doc Martin boots over woolen socks, noting that the day looked cold.

I slipped on my black leather jacket and grabbed a beret. Good. I liked the look. It fit nicely at the waist. I looked hot. But I had cold feet. Well, I’d know what to say when we started walking. I did my best thinking then and I’d just share with him. It sounded easy.

I wrapped a red, wild wooley scarf around my neck and headed for the Blue VW. She needed a name. The Blue Angel. It was a miracle I was driving her. Not that I believe in angels or miracle. I just paint what I see and people like them. Blue Angel. Sounded good. Maybe I’d paint her, this lovely little car and yes, she had a blue angel flying over her. I acknowledged the unseen presence and pulled out into the alley, heading toward Lake Fondis.

The cell rang and I answered, wishing I had the ear piece to talk while I was driving.

"Yes?" I tucked it under my ear to my shoulder and shifted.

"Dannah, this is Hubert. We received the painting from Vail today. It won’t fit in that little bug of yours. Shall I have Charlie drop it off?
"Hi, Hubert. That would be great. Could you have him take it to Sam’s Auto Shop? He’ll need to be surreptitious about it, make sure Sam’s wife isn’t there because it’s a surprise for her."

"Can do."

"Put the cost on my bill, okay?"

"No charge today, Dannah. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Hubert, thank you. Happy Thanksgiving to you too." I clicked off, thinking about the holiday. Two days away. Which meant that I went to see the psychiatrist tomorrow. Might as well get all this out of the way and then I can be thankful it’s over.

I pulled in next to Pippin MacGregor’s rental car, unbuckled and got out. He was standing by a Ponderosa pine gazing at the lake, his hair flying askew in the wind. He turned as I walked up, a beam of sunlight striking his fierce red hair for a brief moment.

I looped my scarf a second time around my neck as the wind picked up. My impulse was to hug him but I refrained, as did he.

"Pippin MacGregor," I said, looking up into his somber face.

"Dannah Davidson," he responded, a twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

I indicated the path heading west with my chin and we turned in unison, walking easily together. I wasn’t quite sure how it happened, his long legs and my short ones leading forward as one. I concentrated on our rhythm, left foot to his left, no…I stumbled and did a skip, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I had to stop this. I didn’t want to pretend anything any more. I just wanted to be me, to be honest, and to work out what didn’t seem to work. It didn’t seem such a hard request.

Glancing up at his handsome profile, I was once again tongue tied. I really didn’t know what to say. I’d let him start. He said he had something he wanted to talk about. As if feeling my gaze, he turned, a question in his eyes.

I looked forward and dropped my gaze to the paved bike path, shivering. The wind rushed through the pine boughs along the lake’s edge, moaning a sad song. My leather jacket may look hot but it’s not. I should have worn my shabby old down jacket. Shoulda woulda coulda …

We kept pace for some time and then I saw a bench facing the lake and headed toward it. I sat, wrapping my arms around myself. He sat close but not touching. Whose bright idea was this, I asked part of my brain that wasn’t paying attention. I was freezing my ass off and I didn’t have a word to say to this guy.

He put his arm along the back of the bench, but still our bodies didn’t touch. I wanted to climb in his lap and cuddle up and weep. Or seduce him. I really had to clear the air so I could follow my impulses. I’d never felt this way about a guy before, never felt like we had to start out up front, without any hidden barriers that would block our way.

We turned toward each other at the same moment, our eyes locked.

"This isn’t working," I said.

"Let’s go someplace warm," he said.

"Yes."

We headed back to the cars, silent.

H

I shivered even after the heat revved up in Pippin’s car and would be glad to get into a warm building. I’d never been to the Fondis Fish House but it was the closest place to the lake. What was I thinking?, trying to look good and not paying attention to the weather. Tiny pellets of snow gradually gave way to larger, more persistent flakes.

Pippin MacGregor, ever the gentleman, opened the door and I entered the small, crowded restaurant. Pippin spoke to a waiter who pointed toward a small booth in the back and we headed in that direction. I slipped into the red naughahyde seat, my body gradually responding to the heat of the room.

"Drinks?" the waiter asked as he slid two glasses of water across the wooden surface.

"Hot chocolate," I said between chattering teeth.

"I’d like the same," Pippin MacGregor said and the waiter was gone into the crowd.

Pippin reached his hands out and I put my icicles into his warm palm.

"Why is this difficult for you? What is it?" Concern creased the edges of his eyes.

"Oh, I don’t know. I thought it would be easy if we walked and talked. I like to walk. I thought it was a good idea. It wasn’t," I explained.

"Maybe walking when there isn’t a blizzard on the rise would be very pleasant, Dannah. What do you want to talk to me about."

I dropped my gaze and then raised my eyes to him. "Me."

"I always want to hear more about you. I take pleasure in getting to know you." His hands shifted on mine, covering and warming me to the heart.

"I’m not so sure you’ll want to know more after what I have to tell you." I sighed.

"Dannah, just start at the beginning. Then it will be easy." He smiled softly.

I did start at the beginning, telling him about my mom and my disappearing dad, about grade school. The waiter delivered two steaming mugs of hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream on top. I slipped my hands out of his and held the mug, sipping the hot liquid through the cool whipped cream.

I continued to talk, told him about high school and art classes and finally about going to art school. And about meeting Zip, who I didn’t even like the first time I met him. But he was persistent and handsome and all my friends at college thought he was hot. Our marriage was brief. His returns predictable.

"When did he come back last?" Pippin’s eyes never left mine.

I told him. Everything. Every detail. How I’d felt, how I’d been responsible for letting him in, how I should have known better, how Talia thought he was bi-polar, and Harrie said that just meant creepy. And I told him about the rape—and Zip’s death. I could no longer look him in the eye and stared hard at a water mark on the table.

The waiter stopped briefly at our table. "Order for two?"

Pippin nodded.

"So, you can see why you might not think I’m acceptable." I forced myself to look up. "I feel a very strong connection with you, Pippin. I like you. But if you go away and don’t want to see me, I’ll understand."

"We’ll do much better if you don’t try to make up my mind for me," his voice was firm but soft.

Startled, I began to protest. He shook his head.

"I have a story to tell also. Then together we will decide where we are right now and where we’d like to go. If that works for you." He was so serious.

"I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be controlling or making up your mind about anything. Tell me your story," I said.

"Only if you’re finished. I think there’s more."

"Yes. I go to the psychiatrist tomorrow. I’ve been depressed. My body was injured and has healed now but I don’t know about my mind. I think it will be okay." I shrugged.

"What are you still afraid of?"

Tears welled, unwanted. I willed them not to fall. "I’m afraid that I’ll freeze up when I want to be intimate with you." I spoke so softly that he leaned forward to hear. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever said but I felt like a vice had been released on my chest. I looked at him through blurry eyes.

"Sweet One, know that I do not readily promise anything to anyone. To you I promise, I will never hurt you or force you to anything you do not desire. That is a promise. Should you still wish to continue our relationship."

"Your turn. Why wouldn’t I want to continue if you can handle who I truly am?"

"You are so much more than even you know, Dannah. My story is short but not simple. I married in my twenties and had a son. Before he was ten, he and his mother were killed in an auto wreck. I withdrew from everything but work and have been a workaholic until I had the iris dream. Piping kept me alive. My dreams finally gave me hope. If you’ll take another step with me on hope…?"

The waiter served two large baskets filled with fish and chips, the house specialty and only item on the menu we never saw.

Pippin and I stared long into each other’s eyes. It was never what it seemed on the surface. We all came with our garbage and grief.

"I’m willing," I said.

"As am I, my Iris of Hope."

We ate with gusto.

H

"Dannah, let me drive you home. We can get your car tomorrow," Pippin said.

"But I have an early appointment with the psychiatrist. I should probably go get my car."

"I’ll drive you in the morning—to your car or to your appointment, if you wish."

I gazed at the falling snow, four inches deep now, and realized how exhausted I was. I’d spent all that time worrying, and now it was all out in the open. He’d been married—and widowed. The tragedies of our lives overwhelmed me.

"Thank you," I said simply, leaning back on the head rest. "I’m liking getting to know you, Pippin MacGregor." I closed my eyes while he drove.

"Gentle, Little One," I heard his brogue from a deep sleep and realized he was lifting me out of the car and carrying me to the Coop. I snuggled against the soft cashmere coat and sighed.

H

"Dannah, what time do you need to get up?"

I opened my eyes in surprise to hear the deep brogue and realized that Pippin MacGregor had spent the night. On the floor, having found a cushion for his head and his overcoat for warmth, lay the man I was learning to trust, curled up with Half Moon. Moonie never liked Zip and I had worried that Zip would kill him. I trusted Moonie more than most people in deciding on the worth of a human being. I smiled.

"Probably seven. I need to be there at nine." I yawned. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty."

"Plenty of time. Come cuddle," I said and scooted over, lifting the covers on the narrow bed. Pippin eased in and I turned on my side as he spooned against me, both of us still clothed. We lay quiet and drifting until Moonie jumped on my shoulder with a meowrl.

"The perfect alarm clock," Pippin murmured in my ear. "Cat time. It is now seven o’clock."

We bumbled and bumped, getting ready. I wasn’t used to having another person in the Coop and he wasn’t used to such a small space I was certain. We laughed a lot and took turns showering.

"I’ll buy breakfast," he said as I opened cupboards to ask if he wanted oatmeal, hoping I had enough to make up two bowls.

"Do you want to get your car or shall I drive you to your appointment?" he asked.

"Listen. Snow plows. If you can drive, we can get my car afterwards. I hate being late. We’d better go if we’re going to eat breakfast first."

"I’ll start the engine and get the car warmed up," Pippin said, opening the door.

I was looking for my car keys in my backpack.

"Good morning, sir," I heard Pippin say.

"That’s Colonel to you, boy. Now just what are your intentions with my girl Dannah?"

"Most honorable, Colonel. It was very snowy and I gave her a ride home and stayed to make sure she had a ride this morning." He paused. "I slept on the floor, Colonel. With the cat."

"Now, then, that’s a man. Good place for you. On the floor. Surprised the cat would put up with you. Mind you, I’ll be keeping an eye on you."

I smiled—and found my keys, shoving them in the right hand pocket of my jeans. I heard the car start.

Things were going to be just fine.

H

Fondis Mental Health Center was located in an old two-story brick building behind the new Justice Center. I’d been there before to teach art to a rehab group. I’d never been there as a patient and it felt weird. I’d only picked at breakfast, being anxious. Pippin asked if I wanted him to go in with me. Certainly not. I was stressed enough that I’d even shared with him all these private details of my life. He said he’d pick me up in an hour.

"Good Morning, Dannah," Sally, the receptionist said. I knew her slightly from my work here previously. "Dr. Redwood will be with you in a moment."

A door opened and a tall, slender woman in a flowing red dress walked toward me. He gray hair was tucked up in a bun, wisps already slipping down her neck. "Ms. Davidson?"

"Dannah, please."

"I’m Dr. Redwood. I’m pleased to meet you." She took my outstretched hand in both of hers.

Blue eyes twinkled between dancing lines on her face as she expressed greetings. I liked her instantly.

Her office was soft and warm, pinks and reds with silver accents, bookshelves overflowing. She didn’t have a standard desk, just a TV tray kind of thing with a laptop. I sank into an overstuffed chair and tucked my feet under me.

"This will be a get acquainted session. I’m sorry I’ll have to record all this on a computer. I hope it won’t be too disconcerting," she said.

I thought of the hawk nosed guy and how distancing it felt when he looked only at the computer. I was committed to being honest. Might as well start now. I told her about my last session.

"So, I’ll let you know how I’m feeling," I said.

"Good. If you do that all the way through, no matter what we’re discussing, it will be very helpful." She smiled and I took a deep breath.

She slid the tray thing into her lap, but her eyes never left mine as she began to ask questions. Occasionally she’d glance down, perhaps to check the next section to fill out but I felt her full, undivided attention. I told her my story, my disparate moods, my inability to know when I was going to feel the blues or ecstatic with unexpected turn of events. I told her about the truck, the slashed painting and I finally told her about Zip. In minute detail.

"We’ve run over by fifteen minutes," she said glancing at her watch. "I allowed for that. The first visit can often be very full, trying to get an overview.

"One more thing?"

She nodded.

I told her about Pippin MacGregor, about my attraction to him, about my fear of sexual intimacy if we progressed that far.

"Dannah, I appreciate how open you’ve been today. I’d like to schedule another appointment in a week. Your current situation may take the whole hour. Sally will put you in the computer." She smiled. "And I will prescribe something that should help you temporarily." She slid the computer table aside and stood, leaning down to give me a brief hug. She smelled good. Her dress was soft silk, not some manmade fabric. I was willing to come back.

H

"When can I see you again?" Pippin asked, leaning over the VW.

"I have to work," I said, through the open window. "I want to put a final coat on the Airplane Angel and then some other images are nagging for expression." I smiled at him. "What time is the parade today?" I’d almost forgotten.

"I’m on my way over to the rehearsal hall now. The parade starts at three. Are you coming?"

"I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll get in a few hours work and then go downtown."

"Would you like to meet me at Finn’s Pub afterward? All of the pipers will be going there. Then you and I can slip out for a quiet meal if you’d like." His blue eyes sparkled.

"I’d like."

H

After inviting Half Moon to visit the Colonel, I once again placed the Airplane Angel on the floor and applied a final coat of varnish. I wouldn’t have time to even start the painting that dominated all other images in my mind. Pippin MacGregor’s profile, back lit by the street lamp that first night in the parking lot. The cell phone rang.

"Hi, Talia," I said.

"You’re coming tomorrow, aren’t you? I haven’t talked to you all week, it seems."

"Yes. I’ll be there. Is it okay if I bring someone?"

"Of course. I heard on the grapevine that you might bring a guest." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Is William here yet?"

"No. And don’t change the subject. Who is the mystery man?"

"His name is Pippin MacGregor. He’s the new pipe band leader. I’m just getting ready to go to the parade. Are you at work? Can you come to the parade? He’ll be the tall, red haired one in kilts." I smiled just thinking about him.

"No, I’m at home. I’m helping Regina cook for tomorrow so I’ll have to miss the parade. Do you think he might play the pipes here tomorrow?"

"I don’t know. I’ll ask him. Now, when does William come in?"

"He called from Alaska this morning. He should fly into Fondis International Airport tomorrow by 9:00 am. I cant’ wait to see him," she said.

"I’ll bet. Do you want me to come early and help? Can I bring anything?"

"No. Regina has it all under control. I’m just pretending to help. This is an important time of year for her. She and Leonardo arrived here on Thanksgiving day. They didn’t know anything about our tradition but they were so happy to leave the situation in Guatemala that it has become a special celebration for all of us."

"I’ve got to run if I’m going to get to the parade on time. See you tomorrow, Talia."

"Bye, Dannah."

I edged toward a box of clothes in the corner and found a bright red turtleneck sweater. I liked wearing red even though I’d always been told redheads shouldn’t wear it. Looking in the bathroom mirror, I brushed on fresh blush and some glossy lipstick.

The day was bright but in the twenties. I knew it would be freezing later so reluctantly I pulled on the shabby old down jacket and slipped on my old Sorrels. Outside a breeze out of the south made me glad of my choice. Form follows function. Be warm rather than pretty. I laughed at myself and headed down the alley to cut across streets to downtown. It was useless to drive, I wouldn’t be able to park close so I might as well walk.

Fondis is well known for its parades and people come from all over the state, especially for the Thanksgiving parade when out of towners flock to stay with relatives. I often had a problem seeing the floats and bands because I was so short. I avoided the crowds already gathering on Main Street and took the back alley to the old Fire Station.

"Dannah, I wondered if you might be along. Come on up, now, half the crew is already on the roof. The others are lining up for parade duty," the fire chief called out from the metal fire escape stairs that ran up the outside of the building. The lower part of the building was the Fondis Fire Museum, with old trucks and lots of photos of historic fires from the past. Parade days some of the firemen would march in the parade or ride on one of the trucks. Others watched from the roof, partially on duty. A skeleton crew stayed at the new fire station on call.

I could hear the bagpipes before I could see and stood at the brick wall, peering down the street.

"Here ya go, Dannah," said Ralph, handing me a pair of binoculars.

I took them even though I knew I’d spot that wavy red hair at a great distance. I focused the lenses and strained to see any sign of activity at the end of the street. Nothing. I lowered the binoculars and watched people shift and settle into a place. Across the street I saw Loren, bundled in a new overcoat and straining to see through the crowd. He was probably looking for Marshall. Hubert and Charlie made an interesting pair, seated in chairs down the street. Children dashed out into the street and were called back by adults.

The Fondis Pipe & Drum Corp came around the corner and there he was: Pippin MacGregor in all his glory. God he looked good in kilts. I raised the binoculars. His cheeks were puffed and he was one with the bagpipe and the other musicians. The sound sent a tingle up my spine. I ran the binoculars down his body, he wore fingerless gloves, a sporran over his private parts. I grinned. I wondered if that was what it was initially intended for. I mean, what is it to wear a skirt without any protection there? His well developed calves wore cabled socks. He was a fine looking man. I was still rather amazed that he seemed truly interested in me. The dream we’d shared nagged at my sense of possibilities.

"Don’t hog the binoculars, Dannah," another fireman said. Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze and handed them over, my eyes staying on Pippin MacGregor.

I watched the band pass and turn off at the town square where I knew they would disassemble.

"Thanks, guys," I said, heading toward the stairs.

"It just started, Dannah. You can’t leave now," someone said.

"I’m going to meet someone," I hedged, not wanting to say too much.

"Chasin’ skirts just like us, huh?" one of them teased.

"I do like a kilt," I admitted and they all laughed.

"Good luck, Dannah."

I scurried down the old fire escape, and headed down the alley where I knew I’d eventually come to the parade end.

H

Pippin grabbed me and swung me around, laughing. He kissed my cheek as he set me down. Our first kiss. We were surrounded by kilted men and women, whooping it up. They all seemed to pause in their celebration to turn and watch us. Suddenly, I felt like an intruder.

"Fine playing," Pippin called out in the sudden silence. "Each of you played truer than any rehearsal. Good work, lads and lassie," his voice rang out.

"Hip, hip, Pippin," someone shouted and soon the chant surrounded him. He grinned.

"To Finn’s Pub, I’d say. First round is on me."

The clamor now exceeded any before and I laughed as the band headed off to the bar on a side street. Pippin grabbed my hand, and started to follow.

"I’ll show you a short cut," I said. He nodded, picked up his pipe case and ritually took it apart, setting each piece in order. I liked how he took care of his parts. That made me laugh aloud. He looked up with a question.

"You were wonderful," I said and led him back down the alley, cutting across a side alley two streets and to the back door of Finn’s Pub.

"I like getting to know the city with you, Dannah," he said.

Robbie O’Leary beamed as we passed the kitchen. "Glad to have ye aboard, Mr. MacGregor. You’re the talk of the town, lad," the owner said.

"Thanks. First round of drinks for the band is on me," he looked down at me, "and my lady and I would like a quiet spot if ye have one." He laughed as if he knew that would be impossible.

We settled in a booth near the back and he ordered a single malt scotch by a name I didn’t know. He looked questioningly at me. I shrugged.

"The same." Why not? I was trying to expand my horizons—and my taste buds. "And a glass of water."

"Make it two."

"You’re very handsome in your kilt," I blurted out before thinking I might be too aggressive with that compliment. Well, it was true and I was trying to shoot for truth in our communication.

"And without it, I’m not?" he teased.

"Stop fishing for compliments, lad," I said, picking up his brogue for a phrase.

Pippin laughed, as did I. The waiter served us two shot glasses and I watched him down his in a gulp. His eyes squeezed closed and then he let out a breath before he smiled.

I sniffed mine and shivered. I took a small sip, the burn raging though my mouth, snaking to my belly. Tears leaked out of my eyes and I coughed. "You like this stuff?" I asked in amazement. A sense of contentment eased out through my body. He watched me, a small grin playing at his lips. It was a good thing I’d decided to try the new meds tonight when I could determine my body’s reaction, if any. I don’t think anything would be compatible with this single malt fire water.

Various members of the band came up to the table to compliment him but he turned each one around, mentioning a special skill that the person had improved. I was impressed with how he handled people.

The waiter came back to take another order. Pippin glanced at me and I shook my head. He handed his credit card to the waiter, telling him to include the first round for the group.

"I don’t think I can finish this," I said, pushing it in his direction. "Are you interested in my leftovers?" I took another long glug of water.

"Thank you, Sweet Dannah," he said, his eyes intense on mine. And then he whisked it to his lips and drank it down. He signed the credit card slip, put the card back in his sporran and lifted an eyebrow. "Ready to slip out the back?"

I nodded.

H

We went to his room at the renovated Fondis Hotel where he put his bagpipe away in a closet and showered while I looked out the window at the dispersing crowds. I stretched out on his bed, smelling him as I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, he was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a plaid cotton shirt, weskit and pleated trousers. His hair was still damp, and thus a darker red.

"I love watching you sleep," he said, and touched my cheek with a finger.

I rolled on my side, curling around him. "I’d rather be awake," I murmured as he rubbed my back.

"Would you like to have dinner downstairs in the dining room?" he asked.

"You are always treating me. Why don’t we go to the Coop and I’ll fix dinner," I said on impulse, then wondered if he’d like my cooking. "Besides, it will be crowded everywhere tonight with post parade revelers."

"So, let’s go shopping and I’ll buy the food and you do the cooking."

"That will still be you treating me."

"No. It will be my sharing the dinner requirements. You don’t know how I long for a home cooked meal. You are more than treating me."

He drove and I gave him directions to the Bijou Grocery, a long time establishment, just hanging on since the arrival of the newer shopping chains. I liked coming here. The produce was fresh, the meat cuts generous.

"Hi, there, Dannah. Go to the parade?" the old man dusting shelves turned and asked.

"It was great. I’d like you to meet Pippin MacGregor, the new band leader. Pippin, this is Mr. Salamone."

"I’ve heard about you, MacGregor. Good words. Welcome to Fondis, young man. Take good care of our girl, here," he said, nodding at me.

They shook hands and then we wandered the isles. I headed for the produce department and found a perfect head of romaine lettuce and put it in the small shopping cart.

"Do you like artichokes?" I asked.

"Never had one. I’d love to try," he answered.

I selected several, squeezing and testing them before I found two that I thought were fresh enough and put them in a plastic bag.

"What kind of meat do you like? Or should I ask first if you eat meat?"

"I eat meat, everything from lamb to beef and me mum makes a great haggis." He grinned.

"I won’t be makin’ ye haggis, Pippin MacGregor," I said in an imitation of his brogue. "But lamb chops sound great. Let’s see what Mr. Salamone has today."

I’d planned on a simple meal but Pippin kept adding things to the cart, more vegetables and fruits, crackers and cheese and a tub of oatmeal.

"Did you see the fresh breads?" Mr. Salamone asked as we were checking out. "Mrs. Salamone baked them fresh this morning. Her French bread is the best." He pointed and Pippin went to fetch the bread and came back with a pound of butter. My small refrigerator was going to be overflowing.

H

I hung the Airplane Angel back on the wall though the varnish was still tacky. Pippin eased down into a kitchen chair and made the salad while I trimmed the artichoke claws with scissors and put them on to cook. I rinsed the four lamb chops, diced garlic and rubbed over the surfaces and ground up some rosemary in the mortar and pestle, sprinkling pieces on top of the chops.

Pippin opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses and I sat in the opposite kitchen chair.

"Here’s to you, Pippin MacGregor," I said, raising my glass.

"Here’s to us, Dannah Davidson." We smiled, clinked our glasses and sipped.

"I wonder if I can seek your help, Dannah," he said somewhat hesitantly.

"Ask. I’ll let you know." I didn’t want to commit before I knew what I was getting into.

"I need to find someplace to live. The hotel is adequate but I start work at the aerospace plant on December first. I’d like to start looking. I read the newspaper but nothing seems to suit." With long fingers, he slowly turned the wineglass.

"That would be fun. Do you want to rent or buy?"

"Buy. I talked to a couple of realtors and they said the prices in Fondis would increase by at least 30 percent in the next year. I need someone who knows the town and the areas and what would be a good investment," he said.

"Sounds like you plan to move on rather than settle into Fondis life," I said, more for my own information than as a housing consultant.

"It depends on many things," he raised his eyes to mine but I couldn’t read the expression.

"First, let’s figure out what area of town you want to live in and then we can narrow it down to what’s available and what kind of a dwelling you’d like. There are very high end houses up there where Talia lives. Oh, my gosh. I didn’t talk to you about Thanksgiving, did I?" I blushed. I’d assumed he’d just go with me but hadn’t actually asked him.

"What about it? I really enjoyed the big celebration today."

"Silly me. Thanksgiving is tomorrow, Pippin. I don’t know if you even have anything like this in Scotland. Anyway, I’m going to Talia’s for dinner and you’re invited too. If you’d like to come along?" I was nervous as he took a swallow of wine before answering.

"May we go together? I could pick you up?"

"You’ll go then? Yes, we will go together. Talia is a wonderful hostess. I don’t know who all will be there. William is flying in from…where was he? Alaska, I think. And Harrie will be there with Tad and Lauren with Marshall. I don’t know if you’ve met everyone or not but we’ll have a great time. Thank you." I relaxed and got up to check the artichokes.

"Thank you, Dannah. You are so welcoming. I am very grateful to you for including me in your celebrations."

I stopped, thinking what it must be like to be in another country, even if they do speak English, and to not be familiar with the customs, the traditions that vary, the need to make friends and…

I reached out and grabbed his hand and squeezed. "You’re welcome."

I lit a candle and set it on the edge of the table and slipped the lamb chops into the toaster oven. Turning to chop the zucchini and onions, I glanced at Pippin. He was watching me, a sweet smile on his face.

"I’m glad you’ll help me look for a home. You know the town, where do you think I’d like to live?"

"Well, right downtown there are some new condos if you want the city type energy. Around here, it’s mostly remodeled Victorian houses. There are some housing tracks out on the north east edge of town that are pretty reasonable but mostly caters to young families. What kind of house do you like?" I asked, wondering where I fit in the picture or if I did at all. I’d like him to have a house around here so I could see him more often but I’d better keep my own wants tucked away. No, that wasn’t being dishonest, just practical.

I served dinner on two of my three dinner plates while Pippin filled our wine glasses. I had to teach him how to eat artichokes and we laughed as he experimented. I served both mayonnaise, my favorite, and a ramekin of melted butter.

"It takes a lot of work for a little taste," he said, studying a leaf.

"Unlike a sip of scotch fire," I said.

He laughed.

"Wait until you get to the heart. It is so delicious."

"The lamb chops remind me of home," he said, cutting into his second chop.

"Good. It’s good to feel at home," I said.

"I do feel at home with you, Dannah." His face and tone of voice had turned suddenly serious. And that made me uneasy. It wasn’t him it was negative images pushing from my past, yelling warnings that had nothing to do with the current situation. But they sat heavy in my brain. I decided not to have any more wine and to remember to take my new medication before I went to bed.

"We could go look at houses on Friday if you don’t have anything else to do." I said, shifting the subject to something more general.

"Yes. Friday." Still he seemed too serious.

"I’ll check the MLS on the internet. We can do some searching before we contact an agent. I don’t know if the library will be open or not on Friday. I usually go down there to check my email," I explained.

"Dannah, I have my laptop in the car," he said, reminding me how different our lifestyles were once again.

"Great. After dessert, you can get it. I’ll show you a site to check and we can begin looking right now."

We smiled at each other, the tension gone. I cleared the plates and served mango sorbet for dessert.

H

The short length of me stretched along the long length of him as we sat side by side on the bed looking at the computer screen in his lap. We’d soon called up the listings for Fondis and he suggested we begin to look at the area around here. I didn’t smile with my lips but my heart was grinning wildly.

"There seem to be a number of houses for sale right now, which is good, I think," I said.

"Competition. Means I might be able to make a lower offer. Yes? I’ve never bought a house before. I’ve moved around so much that it hasn’t seemed practical. I decided I’d do it different here. Consider it as an investment. I kept my flat in London, by the way. Have you ever been there? I’d love to take you there sometime." His arm was around my shoulder and he squeezed gently.

There were so many hinted possibilities of a future together. I was afraid to respond to them, to look at them, to want them as much as I did deep inside.

"I’d love to go to London one day," I said, as generically as I could. I’d love to go with him, to be comfortable traveling with him, to trust him to guide me in a city that big.

"Let me bookmark some of these pages and I’ll print them out when I get back to my room. Then we’ll have a place to start on Friday." He turned off the computer and slid it back into the carrying case. "I should get going. What time shall I pick you up tomorrow?"

"Talia said to be there at two. Come by around one, okay?"

We stayed there, quiet, our bodies still touching but without the distraction of the computer. I was burning with the touch of him next to me and dared not look at him. He’d see everything on my face.

Pippin lifted me into his lap, his hand gently turning my head toward him. I looked into his eyes and saw desire reflected there. He ran a thumb along my cheek and leaned forward, ever so gently kissing me, his lips soft, giving, wanting. I leaned into the hardness of his body, the sweetness of his mouth. How long can a kiss last? It was timeless and I was breathless as was he.

"I’ll see you tomorrow," he said, his voice husky.

I nodded and watched him go out the door. I needed a bigger bed. I wanted him to stay the night. Not on the floor. But with me, truly with me. So far, I wasn’t afraid.

H

I awoke in a panic. I’d forgotten that I had to take my paintings to the gallery on Friday. I’d promised Pippin I’d go with him to look at houses. Maybe he and I could look at houses after that. And I’d forgotten to take my new medication. That man can put me in a dither. I had Thanksgiving morning to myself but my thoughts kept boomeranging back to him.

I put a green clay mask on my face, fixed a cup of tea while it dried and then showered, shampooed my unruly locks and shaved my legs. I felt better. I made a piece of toast, took my vitamins and the prescription. Moonie yowled at the door and I let him out.

I pulled on a pair of black panty hose and slipped into my slinky black woolen dress. The neckline plunged in a "V", the waist was snug and the skirt flared and moved easily when I walked. I loved wearing it and twirled around the living room. I put on my grandmother’s double strand of pearls and a pair of pearl earrings and slipped into my black heels.

I’d been advised by some makeup expert to put on make up first, but then it can smudge on your dress. It’s always a moment of conflict, do it the way someone else told me to or do it my way. I preferred my way. I draped a towel around my shoulders, secured it with a clothespin and put on my make up.

The holiday season is not always the best for me. In fact, it usually sucks. This year would be different. I could feel it in the air. Life was going to be better after all. I glanced at the clock and it was only noon. I’d have to wait another hour for Pippin. Not enough time to do much of anything. I could read. I’d started a mystery novel but forgot what it was about so that wouldn’t distract me enough.

The cell rang.

"Hello?"

"Good Mornin’, Dannah. Am I interrupting?" Pippin asked.

"No, I was just thinking what a long time it would be before you got here." I laughed. Was it really smart to be this honest?

"So, might I come earlier?"

"Indeed."

"Good."

"Hold on a minute," I said when I heard a knock on the door.

I opened it to find Pippin with his cell to his ear. We both laughed.

"You look beautiful, Dannah," he said. The words every woman wants to hear. And believe.

"Thank you. You look very handsome," I looked him up and down, the black trousers, the blue shirt and red tie. And his black cashmere overcoat. He looked delicious.

I pulled on the old down jacket, hoping he wouldn’t notice the poof of down that slipped out of a growing hole on the sleeve. I should mend it. It’s the kind of thing I never get around to.

"Would you like to drive around a bit before we go to your friend’s house?" he asked.

"Perfect. We can just cruise around this neighborhood and look at for sale signs and you can say which ones you like from the outside. Oh, I have to tell you about tomorrow. I need to deliver my paintings before we go house hunting," I think I was blathering.

"I’d love to go with you when you take your paintings to the gallery. May I?" Moonie slipped inside and Pippin took my hand as I closed the door.

I studied the size of his rental car. "Neither of our vehicles is large enough. I’ll have to ask Hubert to pick them up for me. Oh. Yes. You can go over to the gallery with me." I smiled up at him.

"I knew I was waiting to buy a car for a reason. I need one big enough to carry paintings." He smiled but I had that weird feeling of how much his words created a future with me in it and I didn’t trust it yet.

He drove slowly through the neighborhood, slowing at "For Sale" signs. I was feeling moody and realized that a nagging question lingered at the back of my brain.

"Tell me what she was like," I finally spoke.

"Who?" he asked, glancing at me, puzzled.

"Your wife."

"Ah, Jenny. We never thought we’d be with anyone else. We grew up together and so it was natural for us to become a couple. She was tall and blonde. Our son looked just like her." He stopped and I wished I hadn’t asked but I had to know.

"It must have been hard," I didn’t know what to say.

"I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. We had the easy kind of relationship one has with people you’ve known all your life. She often was more like a sister than a wife. Sometimes we’d argue like we were still ten years old." He smiled, wistfully.

"I’m sorry to have asked but…"

"You deserve to know. Ask anything you want, anytime, Dannah. When I find a house and get my things settled, I’ll show you photographs if you like. And Dannah," he pulled the car over and stopped. "I’m not looking for a replacement. I’m looking for a new relationship. I didn’t think I’d ever say that …until I met you."

H

A valet took Pippin’s car to park it and I guided him around to the back entrance and we slipped into the kitchen filled with aromas of roasting turkey, baking ham and other enticing Thanksgiving treats.

Regina looked up and scolded me in rapid Spanish, shooing us out of the kitchen, past a table full of pies. She didn’t give me time to introduce Pippin so we walked down the hall and I heard voices from several rooms.

I slipped off my coat, as did Pippin, and we gave it to the hat check person near the main entrance. Pippin took the plastic numbers that identified our coats and put them in his pants pocket.

The living room was filled with people, some I knew and others I didn’t. An old couple sat by the fireplace talking. Lauren looked fabulous as he clung to Marshall’s arm. In the corner near the grand piano, a harpist in period clothing played background music.

Children were running around and a nanny rounded them up and ushered them into the little theatre for a puppet show.

"Dannah," Harrie called out, hurrying toward us with Tad Duncan in tow. "I want you to meet Tad."

"Tad. I’m Dannah. I think we met before when the bank funded an art project for seniors a few years ago."

"Of course. Pleased to see you again," he said and I liked his voice and was happy for Harrie.

"This is Pippin MacGregor," I said turning to watch his handsome profile as he greeted both Harrie and Tad.

"We’ll have to talk later, Pippin," Tad said. "The bank is willing to set up a matching grant for the pipe band. It’s been in the works for a couple of years and it looks like it will finally come together." Tad took out his business card and gave it to Pippin.

"I look forward to our conversation, Tad." Pippin flashed a smile that melted me even when it was directed elsewhere.

"Harriet, didn’t you promise me shrimp?" Tad looked at my beautiful friend and she guided him toward a table of food.

"Are you hungry? Shall I find us something to drink?" Pippin asked.

"Not hungry. I’ve decided not to drink alcohol until I get used to this new medication," I said.

"You are a wise woman. Would you like sparkling water?"

"With lime."

A waiter passed and Pippin ordered two.

I waved at Hubert and his round wife Rosie across the room. They were engaged in conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Salamone.

The waiter returned with our drinks and I took Pippin’s hand drawing him toward the hallway. I wanted to show him around and pointed out the solarium, the library, William’s study and Talia’s room where I’d stayed. I opened the door and was startled to see Talia standing at the window, shoulders slumped, gazing out across the valley.

"Talia, what is it?" I hurried forward.

She turned abruptly, straightening and putting on a hostess face.

"Everything’s fine. I just haven’t heard from William since midnight. He was supposed to be here by now." We hugged.

"And this must be Pippin MacGregor," she said, gliding forward and shaking his hand. "I am so pleased to meet you."

"As I am you, Talia. Dannah speaks of you in appreciated friendship."

"Regina threw us out of the kitchen." I laughed.

"She wouldn’t even let me in there today. I started the stuffing and then she scooted me out. She and Leonardo will do it all. Bless them. Come along. It’s time for the piano player."

Ned Toppover was already tickling the keys as we returned to the living room. Waiters and waitresses were circulating with hor d’ouevers. More people had arrived. Pippin took my empty glass and put both of them on a passing tray.

I turned and noticed Charlie had just entered, his towering mohawk, a deep purple, the edges, red. Behind him was a timid woman, head down and murmuring to Charlie.

I squeezed Pippin’s arm and we headed toward them. I was certain we could make them feel more comfortable.

"Hi, Charlie. Remember Pippin MacGregor?" I said.

"Charlie, I do hope you’ll join us and play drums in the band," Pippin encouraged.

"I am thinking about it," Charlie mumbled.

I turned to the girl. No. She was a young woman. Up close she was delicately beautiful. When she lifted her chin, I could see a scar on the left side of her cheek.

"Hi, I’m Dannah. This is Pippin," I said, sticking out my hand. She took it reluctantly.

"This is Amethyst," Charlie said. "A friend of mine." She stepped closer to him.

I stared. How many people could have that name? Well, she was uncomfortable enough already. I’d wait and talk to her later.

H

H

Everyone turned at the trumpeted fanfare. I grinned as I saw the jester proudly set the instrument aside and bow. He was dressed in satins of every color. His smile was magic as his eyes twinkled. He winked at me. I giggled as he did forward flips across the carpet. Circling Pippin and me, he suddenly rolled between Pippin’s legs and grabbed my hand and kissed it.

"Me Lady," he said formally.

"Joseph," I whispered, and curtsied.

With his hands above his head like he was ready to make a great pronouncement, Joseph walked several yards away. Our eyes locked. I turned my back and pushed Pippin back several feet. "Be ready," I said. "To catch." Slipping out of my shoes, I bent and set them aside, parting my legs and steadying my hands on my knees.

Joseph skipped and danced and whooped and somersaulted across my back into Pippin’s arms. The audience applauded wildly. Pippin looked somewhat astonished but his grin was true. If he wanted to be around me, he’d have to take my spontaneous moments and friends. I laughed as he sat Joseph down. I bent down to hug Joseph.

"We’ll talk later," he said and turned to lead everyone in to dinner.

"Talia certainly knows how to throw a party," Pippin said, slipping his arm around my waist. "I do hope her William arrives soon. She seems very upset. I hope you’ll tell me later about your tumbling friend."

I slipped into the chair he held back and nodded. Pippin sat to my right.

"Joseph the Jester," I said, nodding toward the head of the table where my long time friend stood on the chair. "One summer I worked at the Fondis Renaissance Faire painting back drops. I stayed on, filling in wherever needed. I met Joseph there and he taught me a few tricks. You’ll see him around Fondis. He’s actually CEO of Chipdom, a micro chip factory over in the industrial area. But he loves jesting and does gigs occasionally."

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Joseph shouted, calming the group. "May I present my Lord and Lady."

Everyone turned to the double doored entry as Talia and William entered, beaming and holding hands. Instead of taking their places at opposite ends of the table they sat together at the opposite end of the table from Joseph. Regina and Leonardo orchestrated the serving of three turkeys and three hams and an abundance array of side dishes. It was a Thanksgiving I’d always remember.

"Everything’s right with the world," I said as Pippin reached for my hand.

H

"Dannah, I’m so sorry to waken ye, my love," Pippin said in my dream. I smiled. He’d said, "My love." I liked that. An angel floated over his shoulder. He touched my face with a finger.

"Dannah," he said again, I slowly I opened an eye, realizing the dream was in real time.

His eyes ached with a pain I didn’t understand.

I eased up on an elbow. "What is it, Pippin?"

"Me mum. I’m flying to Scotland now. I just had a call from my brother. Mum’s in hospital. A heart attack. I leave from Fondis International within two hours. I had to tell ye." Lines creased his forehead, his eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"What can I do?" I asked.

He shook his head, unable to speak.

I sat up, running my fingers through my hair and staring without seeing at my easel where my necklaces hung.

"Pippin, here." I pushed out of bed and took a crystal amulet from the easel. "This is for protection." I slipped it over his head. He grabbed me, holding onto me. I felt his body quiver with repressed tears.

"Come back to me, Pippin MacGregor," I said, pulling away, touching his cheek.

"I’ll be back as soon as possible, my love." He backed away from me and headed toward the door. Moonie rubbed on his ankle and I had to pick up the silly cat so Pippin could leave.

"An angel flies with every airplane," I said. And he was gone.

Gone. A wind blew through my heart. I didn’t know if his cell phone would work from Scotland. I didn’t have his mother’s name or address. I didn’t know how to get ahold of his brother. Climbing back into bed, I held Moonie until he protested. I didn’t get the airline or the flight number or if he changed planes or…I was afraid. Afraid for him, afraid for his mother and afraid for me. Afraid he’d stay in Scotland and I’d never see him again. I tossed and turned until dawn.

H

Charlie delivered my paintings to the gallery. I followed him back to the truck.

"Uh, Charlie, I wanted to talk to you about your friend Amethyst," I said.

"What about her?" He seemed to withdraw.

"What’s her last name?" I persisted. Maybe it was better to talk to him.

"Green," he said and then relaxed a little. "She’s my cousin."

"I’m sorry, Charlie."

He glared at me.

"Look, Charlie, I know about Amethyst. I wanted her to know Zip was dead. You probably read it in the papers recently. Do you think she’d want to talk to me?"

He shrugged. "I’ll tell her." He opened the door to the truck and turned. "Thanks, Dannah."

I went back in the gallery and the owner was already placing my paintings on the wall. I felt hollow.

Nirvana danced up to me. "This is a great day. You look down in the dumps," she said, hugging me.

"I’m okay," I lied.

"Harrie and Talia should be here soon," she bubbled.

"They’re coming now? I thought maybe they’d come to the opening reception tonight."

"There they are," Nirvana pointed and dragged me to the lobby. She grabbed Harrie’s hand, still holding mine. "Now that I have you all together." She laughed. "We’re going to take a little tour of some of the finer art in the city. Who’s driving?"

I frowned. I wasn’t in the mood for a girlie outing. My paintings were here. I’d show up tonight.

"Come, Dannah," Talia said. She put her arm around my shoulder. "Are you alright?" she whispered.

I shook my head.

"This will make you feel better. Let’s go with Nirvana."

We all climbed into Harrie’s SUV and drove over to the Museum of Modern Art. I hadn’t been here for ages. It might be a distraction. I looked at my cell phone. No messages. I wondered where Pippin was now.

We walked up the hundred steps to the entrance.

"Nirvana, who was that handsome guy you were with last night?" Harrie asked.

"Toro Martinez. He’s an artist from Mexico City. We’ve been in touch for a few years, email, etcetera. Yes, I’ve got the hots for him." She grinned.

"Looks like it’s mutual admiration," Harrie said, holding the door open to the museum.

I sighed as I entered the uniquely designed entry. It felt like hallowed ground. I needed to bring Pippin here. Pippin. I hoped he was safe and that his mother would be fine and that I could talk to him. My mind ran in an endless circle of worry as I followed my friends. A curator hurried forward and was talking to them. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Even my friends. I looked at an interesting Mondrian. I’d like to paint an angel in that style.

"Mizz Davidson, we are so honored to have you here. Your representatives have been most helpful," the curator said.

"What?" I took his extended hand.

He looked disconcerted.

"It’s a surprise," Nirvana explained to him but I didn’t know what she was talking about so I shrugged and tried to smile. Everyone was being so nice to be and I was being a twit.

"This way please," he headed down an oddly angled hall and opened a door into a huge gallery. We walked in quietly, almost in reverence. At the far end hung a massive painting of…my jaw dropped.

"Ta dah," announced Nirvana. "Isn’t this fab? I figured you just hadn’t had a chance to get around to re-mounting it. Everyone here loves it," she gushed.

"I…" I stared at my release painting, muted by the crackling of wadding and punching it. From this distance I could see different images and a sense of hope rising from the painting. I was furious and ecstatic at the same time. If that is possible.

"How could you?" I flared at Nirvana.

"Dannah, this is what you’ve always wanted," she stumbled over her words.

"Mademoiselle, we have already had several offers. I hesitate to mention the meager price so far. We must set a minimum and let the bidding war begin," he said.

"This is great, Dannah. Congratulations," Harrie said, hugging my shoulder.

"Dannah?" Talia said but I’d already turned.

"You know, temperamental artists," I heard Nirvana explain to the curator as I dashed out the door, running down corridors and getting lost. I never get lost. What was the matter with me? I stumbled into a women’s room and leaned over the sink, breathing hard. I sank to the floor and sobbed until there were no more tears. My throat wheezed. My butt was cold. I was hopeless.

H

I don’t know how much time passed. I ignored my cell phone. Finally, I washed my face with cold water. I looked horrid, puffy eyes, my skin pale and wan. Who cared? I didn’t. I stumbled out into the empty hallway and began to wander through the maze or corridors, stopping to look at art but not seeing.

I finally found the entrance and saw my friends at the three exits. I wouldn’t be able to slip away quietly and walk. I stopped in the center of the solarium near the fountain. They came toward me, slowly, like I was a rabid dog. And then their arms were around me. We stayed that way a long time before Harrie led me back to her vehicle.

"We’re going to Cerridwen’s," Talia said quietly, holding my hand.

"Dannah, I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be pleased. I don’t know what to say," Nirvana said, leaning her head unto my shoulder. "What do you want me to do about your painting?"

Harrie frowned in the rearview mirror like she didn’t want Nirvana to talk.

"Whatever. You’re in charge of it. I don’t care. Whatever you want to do with it is fine." I closed my eyes.

"You’ll sign something to that effect?" She sat up straight and rummaged in her copious bag.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Not now, Nirvana," Harrie snapped from the driver’s seat.

"Yes. Now. Or never," Nirvana returned the tone of voice.

"It’s fine, Harrie." My voice was lifeless. "Who is Cerridwen? I’ve heard you talk about her before but I can’t remember."

"She’s an old Druid who lives out in the forest on the east side of Fondis," Nirvana said, pushing a piece of paper with writing on it in front of me. I signed it without looking at it. She pushed it over to Talia. "You’re the witness."

Talia frowned but signed.

"Cerridwen is a wise woman," Talia said. "Some call her a medicine woman. Others, a shaman."

"We’ve invited you to go out there with us many times," Harrie said, glancing back at the three of us. "Now we’re just going to take you there." She smiled at me in the mirror.

Sinking my forehead to my palm, I considered but couldn’t come up with a protest. "Why?"

"Dannah, when do you have another appointment with the psychiatrist?" Talia asked.

"Next Tuesday. Why?"

"You need help now, girl," Nirvana said, tucking the paper into her bag and zipping it closed. "Right now. Did you notice you’re pretty out of it?"

"Don’t be so hard on her, Nirvana," Harrie said, turning unto a dirt road.

"Somebody’s got to. And what happened to Lover Boy?"

"He flew out last night," I said. My throat hurt when I talked.

"No abandonment issues going on, huh?" I flinched at Nirvana’s words. That was all that was going on beneath my fears. How many guys had said they’d take care of me and then split when things got intense? I know, logically, that Pippin had to go. I would have wanted him to go, knowing the circumstances. Still my heart clutched with his absence. And my fear of revealing who I really was through the painting was crushing me more. It was too raw, too personal, too un-nerving. I’d planned on throwing it away.

Even with the high tech suspension in Harrie’s SUV, the vehicle bounced over ruts in the road. We turned several times and I was lost. In more ways than one. I slid against Talia and then Nirvana. What a metaphor for life. I had my friends to bounce off of, to stabilize me. I suddenly realized how grateful I was for their presence. That made me cry again—just when I thought I couldn’t shed another tear. I guess my body is pretty good in the water works department.

A wiry old woman with wild white hair stepped from the geodesic dome and haled us.

"Cerridwen," the three others yelled in return. I followed them. So this was Cerridwen. I wondered what kind of airy fairy thing she was going to try to persuade me to believe in. I wasn’t buying. Life was too upside down for me now. I was just here to help my friends out. They wanted to help me so I guess I’d let them. But it wasn’t going to work.

"Come along, now, Dearie," Cerridwen said, grabbing both sides of my jaw with gnarled fingers, strong but caring. I felt a buzz of energy go through me.

She served tea in bone china tea cups and homemade pastries on a silver platter. Any other time I would have been curious about the dome, about how the angles came together and how the space worked and was it comfortable and how did you heat it. I thought those things but didn’t ask. I really didn’t care. I just wanted to go back to the Coop and go to sleep and forget all this malarkey.

However, I followed everyone out to see the goats. A curly haired little goat with the cutest face nibbled at my shoelace. I laughed, bending down to scratch under her chin.

"That’s Baby," Cerridwen said. "A little angora girl whose mama died and I took on the raising of her. She’s very friendly. She’ll sneak into the house if I don’t keep the gate locked."

"She’s so sweet," I said, looking back at the doeling.

"Sweet and spoiled." The old woman cackled. Did someone say she was a witch? She snapped a lead on the goat’s collar, buried beneath beautiful white ringlets. Cerridwen handed me the rope.

"Time to walk out to the circle. The little one can keep you company."

She turned, heading out along a path near the pasture fence line. We all followed, single file. Baby and I brought up the rear. The pine trees felt nurturing. I started to relax as I paused while Baby ate the end of a yucca spike.

I paused, stunned to see massive standing stones in the middle of an open space. It reminded me of something I’d seen in a book about England. A stone circle. Stonehenge. Yes. It looked like that. The four women were already inside, standing in a circle, chanting. Baby and I entered. There was a space for me on the east side. Cerridwen took the lead and secured Baby. Then we all joined hands. I closed my eyes. My hands suddenly were alive with a jolt of energy. I opened my eyes to look at the other women. Their faces were calm, radiant, with eyes closed. They must be feeling it too.

The energy ran up my arms, through my head, down my torso and legs, connecting me to the earth. I felt it rise up again, as if the earth were giving it back, renewed, re-energized, returning a gift. The crown of my head tingled. I was lost in diffuse white light shimmering all around the circle.

Tilting my chin, even with my eyes closed, I saw an angel hovering above. A new angel of peace. Her face was sublime. I basked in her radiance. She looked right at me and I heard her voice. "Be at peace, little one. All is well. All will turn out perfectly." I felt the muscles in my shoulders relax. I felt the tension in my jaw disappear. I opened my eyes and nothing changed. She was still there, casting a radiant light around the circle. Eyes shut, I inhaled a sweetness like roses and jasmine.

I’ve painted angels for years because I see them in dreams. But they’ve never been alive, never spoken. My reality had shifted and I didn’t know what to think.

"Call on me whenever you need me," she said. Gradually her form disappeared into the glowing light.

I opened my eyes again and felt the tears rolling down my cheeks. Tears of peace. I didn’t know they were possible.

"You look radiant," Harrie said, smiling as deliriously as I felt.

"I am," I smiled back at each of them in turn.

"Thank you."

The goat bleated and we all turned, laughing. The curly haired one pulled us back to earth.

H

The Coop was my refuge. I’d snuggled into bed, Moonie curled around my feet, and checked my cell messages. A message from Pippin was garbled and full of static but at least I learned he was safe on ground.

Of course my friends all wanted to rescue me. Nirvana invited me to the Loft. Talia had welcomed me to the Palace. Harrie insisted I come to her house. Wonderful invitations but I needed alone time to assimilate the happenings of the last few days. Reluctantly Harrie had dropped me off at home.

My dreams had been filled with light. I awoke eagerly and set a canvas up on the easel. I roughed in images but had a conflict with perspective. Suddenly I realized that two paintings were trying to get on one canvas. I pulled out my other easel and put another canvas on it.

One painting was from my perspective as I’d stood amongst the standing stones. The circle of women, the radiant angel above. However in my dream state, I saw that each woman had an angel and I began to paint the hovering images.

The other canvas was from my angels perspective, high above looking down on the standing stones, radiating light to one person. Me.

I mixed and blended colors, turned from one painting to another, back and forth, working rapidly, putting in what I saw and felt. Time passed. The sun went down. I only stopped to let Moonie out and discovered snow falling.

My stomach growled. I went to the sink and drank two glasses on water, glugging them down.

I studied both paintings from the little distance allowed by the space. Yes. They were done. I liked them. I felt refreshed.

I sank to a kitchen chair and peeled a tangerine and ate each section slowly, looking at first one painting and then the other.

Moonie came back in and we crawled into bed. I slept immediately. I woke at dawn, the dreamscape pressed hard in my brain. I stumbled into the bathroom to pee and hurried back into the room to look for another canvas.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I painting the figure of a man in a black overcoat, kneeling at a grave. An angel touched his head. A second angel held the hand of the departed woman, both images fading into the distance.

Pippin’s call came as I finished the final stroke and signed it.

"Dannah, she just passed," he said. I could hear the lump in his throat.

"I know. I’m so sorry, Pippin."

"I’ll have to stay longer to help with things."

"I know. Be safe. Come home when you can."

"Dannah, I miss you."

"And I you. More than you can know," I said.

"I want to say more but not now. I have to go."

"Your angel is with you, Pippin."

And he was gone.

The phone rang again. "Hello?"

"Dannah, you didn’t answer your phone all day yesterday. Are you okay?" Harrie asked.

"I’m good and bad but okay," I answered, knowing it was vague but described how I felt.

"Have you had lunch?" Harrie asked.

"No. I haven’t had breakfast," I realized.

"Lauren and I are coming to pick you up. Lauren has a new place to try."

I showered, feeling sad for Pippin. Inside me I carried a sense of ease. I could be there for Pippin in whatever way he needed. I was sorry not to have met his mother.

Sunshine bounced off the snow, sparkling bright. I pulled on a turtleneck sweater and jeans and my old boots and jacket. I was glad to be going out. I grabbed a packet of vitamins and shoved them in my pocket.

Harrie and Lauren soon knocked and came in. The painting of the man at the graveside, head bowed, was on one easel. Another painting was propped up against the wall on my bed. The angel view of the stone circle still sat on the second easel.

I was ready to be out in the sunshine but both of them stood frozen in place, staring at my work. I waited. They said nothing. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. For once it didn’t seem to matter.

"Honey, you’ve made a breakthrough of some kind," Lauren said. "These are stunning."

"Dannah, is this why I didn’t hear from you?" Harrie’s voice tried to cover emotion. "All three of these are moving. Especially the man kneeling. Is it…?"

"Yes. Pippin just called. His mom died. I painted this from my dream. Before she died."

We all hugged before going to Harrie’s vehicle.

H

The Unicorn Café was darling, everything in white with pink trim and gold accents, like the unicorn logo over the counter. We sat at a table looking out on a courtyard that would be delightful in summer.

I had a green chili omelet but couldn’t finish it. We chatted, Harrie telling me about Tad’s invitation to spend Christmas with him in Hawaii. Lauren urged her to go but she held some reservations.

"Why do you hesitate, Harrie?" I asked.

"I’m just sure of the status of our relationship. I really like him but it may not be the perfect match I’d hoped for."

"What’s up, honey?" Lauren probed.

"The Hawaii invitation is to his condo that he still owns with his ex wife. She’ll be coming sometime while we’re there. I just don’t think I want to venture into that potential row. They had a very difficult divorce a few years ago."

"I don’t blame you," I said.

"Come to my house, Harrie. Marshall said he’d help me decorate. We’re having a few other couples over. You know them all. That is, if you decide to stay in Fondis." Lauren hugged Harrie who tried to smile.

"Couples? I don’t want to be around couples," she groaned.

"You know everybody. Not to worry. They’re all gay. And you know what I always say? I don't mind straight people as long as they act gay in public." Lauren giggled. Harrie managed a smile.

Christmas. I hadn’t even thought about Christmas. I hoped Pippin would be home. Whatever would I get him?

"What?" I said suddenly, realizing they were both looking at me.

"You’re drifting, Dannah. Shall I guess who you were thinking about?" Harrie asked.

I grinned, sheepishly. "You know. You talked about Christmas and that made me think of Pippin. I don’t even know if he’ll be back. I haven’t a clue of what to get him."

"That’s the fun of it all," Lauren said, checking her manicure. "Thinking of all the possibilities and then deciding what is the perfect gift." He looked at me and smiled.

"Do you know what you’re going to get Marshall?"

His face became dreamy. "I’m still thinking. Something very special." His smile was suggestive. We all laughed.

Harrie paid for breakfast and we took a ride around the lake before they dropped me off.

H

Several nights passed with no dreams. Nor any word from Pippin during the day. I finished a landscape I’d set aside last summer and suddenly saw little angel beings hovering around the trees. It became a completely different painting.

On Tuesday morning I kept my appointment with the psychiatrist, blurting out everything that had happened in the past week. She wanted to know how the medication was working. I thought it was fine. I had no noticeable side effects and I was feeling more stable. Even if my week didn’t look like it. She said it might take a little while to notice a continued effect. She asked me to keep a Feeling Journal, noting especially what went on when I heard from Pippin or when I thought about him. We went overtime again. I scheduled for the following week.

The next night was Spa Night at Talia’s. Harrie, Lauren and I rode up together. Talia had invited Nirvana but she had a date with Toro Martinez.

Harrie had a new clay facial mask from Australia. Lauren had new nail polish in a shiny hot red with sparkles. I had naked toes and a clean face, ready for the event.

Lauren was my partner and we exchanged mud applications. "Your skin is so smooth, Lauren," I commented, spreading the mixture along his jawline.

"I still have to get electrolysis upon occasional," he explained. "And I do take care of my skin." He shook his head as he began to apply mud to my face. "You need to moisturize more regularly, Dannah," he scolded.

"I know. I get distracted and forget. A week goes by, then a month." I shrugged as my face began to tighten. My cell jingled.

"Hello?" I knew my voice sounded funny as my face became immobilized.

"Dannah, how are you, Sweet One?"

"Fine. Especially now." I’d been soaking my feet in the hot tub and stepped out, walking to a chaise and stretching out. Lauren dried my feet and began a pedicure. I smiled at him and turned my attention back to Pippin.

"There are many details to work out since Mother’s death. She didn’t keep track of things very well. I’ve been helping Matthew, my brother, straighten things out."

"When do you think you’ll come home?" I had to ask. I wanted to hug and kiss him and get more intimate.

"We’ve been talking about that. I don’t know that I’ll be back by Christmas," I could hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Oh." I didn’t know what to say. I’d assumed he’d be back.

"Might you consider coming here?" he asked.

"What? To Scotland?" I was astonished. Lauren looked up and nodded eagerly.

"Think about it, Dannah. I know you’re busy with your artwork. Just say you’ll think on it, lassie." There was a yearning in his voice that made me want to fly into his arms. Literally.

"Where can I call you?" The static increased in the phone line but I managed to write down a number with lipstick on a napkin. The phone cut out.

Talia and Harrie pulled chairs close to me. "Well?" they said in unison.

Lauren trimmed my cuticles.

I told them what he said. "How can I afford to fly to Scotland?"

"Didn’t he say he’d pick up the ticket?" Lauren asked.

"I don’t think so."

"Do you want to go?" asked Harrie, who had decided not to go to Hawaii.

"More than anything. The Colonel would take care of Half Moon I’m sure. I just don’t know where I’ll get the money. I haven’t heard from the gallery so I don’t know if I sold my paintings." I chewed at a fingernail.

"Stop that," Lauren commanded. "You’ll make it hard to do the manicure."

Regina served protein drinks with blended fruits.

"Dannah, I’m sure I have enough miles to give you a free round trip ticket," Talia said.

"Really?" The possibilities shifted. "Really?" I repeated, unnecessarily.

"Really." She laughed. "Do you have luggage?"

"No."

"I’ll loan you a set. Passport? Is your passport up to date?"

"I don’t know. How long are they good for?" I’d gotten one to go with a group of art students to Paris a few years ago.

"Ten years. I’m sure it’s still valid. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes." I kept everything of value stashed in the back of my oil painting box.

"Call him back," said Lauren as he began to massage my feet and calves.

I groaned. "I’m relaxed and excited all at the same time. Do you really think I should go?"

Again Harrie put it back on me. "Do you really want to go?"

I closed my eyes and saw my angel. She smiled and nodded.

"Yes. I do. I’m scared. But I want to go."

"We are your fairy godmothers," Lauren said, and laughed. "We’ll make it happen."

"Go on. Call him," Harrie said.

Talia handed me a phone. "Use the ground line. You might get a clearer connection."

The three of them politely walked over to the snack table that Regina had prepared while I dialed the number from the napkin.

"Pippin MacGregor?"

The voice had a brogue but not my Pippin’s.

"Oh. May I speak to him, please?"

I waited while he called out. "Little brother, it’s for you."

"Dannah, is that you?" Pippin asked, catching his breath.

"Am I interrupting you?"

"Never. This is a much better connection. I’m glad you called back. Thank you."

"Pippin. I’m coming. You did mean it, didn’t you?"

"You’re coming here? Oh, Dannah. Thank you. I’ll pick you at whatever time you fly in. You can’t have arranged a flight in such a short time. Do let me know."

We chatted and talked about the possibilities. He said I could catch a flight to Heathrow. He could meet me there and we could drive or fly to Edinburgh depending on several factors. Whatever. As long as I was with him, I wouldn’t care.

"When is the funeral?" I asked.

"Tomorrow."

"I’ll come as soon as I can."

"I’ll be waiting for you."

I closed my eyes and saw two angels smiling.

I handed the phone back to Talia who dialed immediately, and sat on the edge of the hot tub. I heard her say William’s name. He’d flown out the day after Thanksgiving to a meeting in Germany.

"Hold still," Lauren said as he grabbed my little toe to apply polish. "You can’t go anywhere right now and we have to get you fixed up for your big journey." He bent, concentrating on the polish.

"This is fabulous, Dannah," Harrie said.

"I know." I grinned. "Here I thought you would be taking a big trip this holiday season. Now look, it’s me." I shook my head. "So, what’s up with you and Tad anyway?"

"I saw all too soon that it wasn’t going to work out. Traveling with someone is a good way to get to know who they really are. I thought it was an opportunity. However, first comes his ex’s appearance at the condo and then I began to notice how controlling he was. I can’t deal with that, you know." We laughed. "I want to control my own life. I’ve had enough of men doing it for me."

Talia walked over and sat back in the chair. "William will take care of it. He’ll call back as soon as he has it figured out. He has three days in the Alps without any business. I may fly to see him." She smiled. Talia always said the two of them were on a perpetual honeymoon because he was never around long to be annoying.

Regina touched Talia’s shoulder and spoke rapidly in Spanish. Talia responded and they both laughed.

"As soon as your nails are dry, we’re going to the wardrobe. I have some clothes that Regina can alter so you have a few extra traveling items."

"Talia, thank you for everything." I had tears in my eyes. This was all going to work out. Lauren was doing my fingernails.

H

Two days flew by with my trio of friends tending me in all the details of travel. I’d even connected with Amethyst Green again and she’d agreed to stay at the Coop and take care of Moonie. She seemed relieved to have a place to stay because she was imposing on family. We talked briefly about Zip but I knew we’d have a long talk later. For now we both felt good.

Nirvana took all the paintings from the Coop and had them framed. She just beamed as she handed me my first ever credit card and told me not to worry about money while I was gone. Yeah, right. She was illusive about the amount because things were happening. Whatever that meant.

I’d talked to Pippin each day. He was pretty down after the funeral. I couldn’t wait to see him, to hold him. To tell him about the angel watching over his mother.

I was on the plane, fidgeting with my bag and watching Fondis become smaller and smaller. Sometimes I liked the window seat. Sometimes it scared me. This time I’d taken what was offered and was grateful. I unzipped the passport unit that hung around my neck, a gift from Talia. Inside I found five one hundred dollar bills. I couldn’t believe it was all happening. Tears blurred my vision as I gazed out the window. I closed my eyes and saw my angel. This time I saw the plane with its angel and then each passenger traveling had an angel or two in attendance. It was very crowded. A big painting.

I reached under the seat in front of me and pulled out my art bag, unzipped the front pocket and grabbed my sketch pad and a pencil. Another airplane painting. I smiled and took a deep breath.

Talia’s sister Camille picked me up at JFK and drove me to La Guardia where I’d catch the international flight to Heathrow. I’d met her several times and we chatted as she maneuvered through the dense traffic. We had lunch together and she guided me through the airport until we reached international security. I hugged her goodbye, pulled out my driver’s license and passport and began the next phase of the journey.

H

I slept restlessly, woke and slept. By the time I walked off the plane at Heathrow, I was exhausted and more than a little nervous. I was to meet Pippin at baggage claim but was confused by the crowds of people and endless signs. For a while I just moved with the masses and finally found a restroom. After using the toilet, I washed my face and put on fresh make up. I looked as tired as I felt. I stepped back into the rush of people and felt disoriented. I eased toward a wall, and leaned, closing my eyes. My angel came more often now, calming me, and giving me a sense of guidance. She was there. I was impressed with a direction to walk, an escalator and my luggage. I inhaled and exhaled and thanked her. I’d head off with a confidence I didn’t think I could readily claim. I’d just leave it up to her.

I opened my eyes as an old woman shuffled toward me, her eyes bright and looking directly at me.

"Ye seem a bit confounded, girlie," she said, her arthritic old finger gently pushing aside a tear on my cheek.

"I feel a little better now," I said.

"I was told to help ye find that baggage claim. Come along now," she said, grabbing my hand and leading me in the direction I’d understood was correct. I smiled. My angel sent this helper.

I searched the crowd around the carousel. Pippin was not in sight. I began to look for my bags and turned to thank the old woman. She was gone.

I wondered when my bags would shoot out when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Pippin grinning down at me. I flung my arms around him and we held each other for a long time. He kissed me gently on the cheek. I reached up, touching his face. He’d lost weight. Our eyes locked with unspoken need.

"Thank ye for comin’, Dannah," he said, his brogue more pronounced with emotion.

I pulled his face to mine and kissed him with all the pent up longing and desire I’d felt since he’d left. We were no longer in a crowded space but in our own glowing little world. His hands tightened around my waist. At last we pulled apart and I turned to see my bags, alone circling the carousel. The crowds had disappeared. He lifted them easily and we headed toward the exit.

H

I was giddy with the newness of it all—and the closeness of him. I suddenly understood how uneasy he must feel driving at home. I cringed, thinking other cars would crash into us. They were all driving on the wrong side of the road and my brain wasn’t accepting it. I was sitting in the passenger seat—which would have been the driver’s seat at home. I ducked my head several times, unnecessarily.

I was awed by the countryside as we headed north. I was here, with Pippin where everyone had an accent. The trees were beautiful even at this time of year. I was glad I wasn’t driving on the narrow roads. Of course he was comfortable with it. My mind jumped all over the place.

He reached out and squeezed my hand. "You’ll get used to it." He seemed to read my mind.

"I’m so excited to be with you. It all flowed together so easily that I knew it was meant to be," I said. I couldn’t stop looking at his profile and then back out the window. I was on sensory overload.

He pulled off into a little town. "Let’s have a meal," he said. "I want to feast my eyes on your beautiful face. I can’t do that driving."

I smiled and blushed. An inner peace washed over me, a feeling of completeness. I glanced up at him. Was it possible to fall in love with someone without ever having sex with him?

We walked up a narrow sidewalk to an inn, old fashioned and looking like it could have been built anytime in the last few hundred years. Inside was dark but a sprightly old woman greeted us and led us to a table in a side room. Pippin ordered something for us both. I wasn’t catching her accent easily. My eyes roamed the dark paneled room, the paintings of a fox hunt and a still life, a small fire burned in a blackened stone setting.

We looked at each other across the table, our eyes locked. Words would not come. I’d been babbling but was content just to be with him. I reached toward him as his hands opened to mine. We held tight until an old man served a pot of tea and two tea cups. He grinned, missing several teeth and mumbled something excitedly.

When he left, Pippin reached for my hand again. I stood and went to him. He pulled me into his lap. I latched my arms around his neck. His arms surrounded my waist. Still we shared no words but the feelings were so strong. We’d promised honesty to each other but I feared telling him I was certain I’d fallen in love with him. I’d read an article that quoted several experts about how to scare off a man. Telling the truth was one of them—and saying you were in love was another.

The old man and woman returned, arms around each other, beaming. They began talking over each other.

"You know what day it is, lad?" the old man prodded Pippin who shook his head.

"Of course, ye’ll remember," the old woman said. "’Tis the first full moon in December. It is a long tradition at the Garner Inn that the first lovers to abide here will bring us luck and prosperity throughout the year."

She beamed. "That be ye."

"Remember two years ago when naught came the day and we had the worst year ever?" the old man spoke.

"Obviously ye are our first lovers of the day. Welcome and thanks be to ye. Now, Pops will serve you up," she said. They turned and she patted the old man on the bottom, both of them chuckling.

"Dannah, we bring good luck when we’re together," Pippin said, his voice thick with emotion. He lifted my chin and kissed me gently. My body tingled as I kissed him back. Tenderly. For now. I wanted much more from him.

Pops served large bowls of steaming lamb stew and a basket of scones. I moved to my chair and we ate and talked of general things, our eyes occasionally lusting. I sipped my tea, thinking it was bitter and steeped too long. I asked for a glass of water. It was served without ice.

"You know I have no idea where we are, Pippin," I confessed.

"Neither do I." He laughed. "Not to worry, I’m familiar with the general area. We won’t be lost, Love. I thought we’d take our time driving north. That perhaps you’d like to see the countryside. Maybe visit a castle?"

"A real castle? There’s one in Fondis but I’ve never been there. Yes. I’d love that. How is Scotland different from England?"

He shook his head. "You’ll see. Perhaps it is something you have to feel. There used to be terrible border wars. Some of the Scots still feel that way," he said.

"What way?"

He leaned forward. "Superior to the Brits." He grinned.

H

A dense fog blanketed the countryside when we returned to the road. I was glad Pippin said he knew the area. We were much more comfortable with each other now. I told him about my experience with Cerridwen and the stone circle. I told him about my angel and the inner harmony that had shifted through my body and remained whenever I tuned in. I didn’t talk about the angel painting of him with his departing mother. Not yet.

He nodded, not questioning what might seem impossible.

"I didn’t know there was a stone circle in Fondis. How amazing. You’ll take me there one day, perhaps?"

"Yes. I’ve only read about such things. But it was the feeling of magic that shifted my perspective. I think that is what allowed me to come here to be with you. And I painted the scene, from two perspectives." I told him about the paintings and that Nirvana was framing them and knew who would hang them.

"It sounds as if your art career is doing very well," he said. "I trust I am not taking you away from anything important." His glance held a frown of concern.

"You are taking me toward something very important," I said, not really knowing what I meant.

As night fell, the fog thickened. I had a hard time seeing the road. Even if Pippin knew the area, it wouldn’t help much if he couldn’t see it. I l

"There’s a place to stay just up the road," he said, once more seeming to read my thoughts. Soon he steered off into what appeared to be a forest with no road. I could see nothing as the car turned along the twisting road. Eventually I saw a light and let out a sigh of relief.

H

A bitter wind bit at my cheeks as I stepped out of the car. I couldn’t remember where I’d put my hat and gloves. Everyone had been so busy going over details before I left. I was just happy to be on my way. Harrie insisted that she could pack better than anyone so I knew there would be some organizational sense to where things were. However it would be from Harrie’s point of view. When I packed, I did it by colors. Everything green with everything else green and so on. It made sense to me but Harrie insisted her way was more efficient. I was in such a dither it didn’t matter then.

Or now—I thought as my knees buckled and I leaned against the car. Pippin was suddenly at my side, his arm around my waist supporting me. The entry light looked blurry.

"I think I have jet lag," I mumbled.

"Exhaustion," he agreed and helped me through the massive door. I slumped into a nicely upholstered chair. "Will you be alright, little one?" Pippin asked, bending over and stroking my cheek.

"I’m fine." I closed my eyes and heard him walk to the front desk.

"Just you and the misses?" I heard someone ask. That sounded nice. I didn’t hear how Pippin answered as sleep filled my ears. I was vaguely aware of my Scottish man carrying me to a room and sinking into a down feather bed before I started dreaming again.

I was walking in a field of heather with Pippin at my side. We looked down on Loch Ness and watched the supposed monster raise her long neck with soulful eyes. I smiled seeing the angel above her and knew she was safe from crazy people who wanted to disprove her or hurt her.

I stretched, semi awake and my foot touched another. Suddenly alert, I sat up. I’d planned to reach for my sketch pad that I always slept with. To capture the Loch Ness Angel. I was in total darkness. A chill flashed over me thinking I was in bed with Zip. No. I was in England. With Pippin. That curled my lips. And I was in bed with him?

"How are you doin’, lassie?" his sleepy brogue asked. His weight shifted on the bed.

I reached out my hand and touched his sternum, his skin hot to my touch as I followed the bristle of soft hair down his strong stomach.

"Fine," I managed. "I don’t remember how I got here or…"

"You haven’t been compromised, Dannah. You were so tired. I looked in your baggage for a nightgown but gave up. There were lovely lacy things but they looked like evening dresses."

I smiled into the darkness. Lauren insisted that I take several sexy negligees. Most nights I slept naked. If it’s cold, I pull on an old tee shirt. My hands rubbed the soft flannel nightshirt I wore now.

"How…?"

"I wanted you to be comfortable. So I put my pajama top on you. I don’t usually sleep in anything. But I pack pajamas in case I have to walk out in the hall to the lu, which is just down the hallway by the way," he explained.

So he slept naked too. And I’d touched his bare chest. I sat up straighter, uneasy. I knew he felt me pull away.

"I’ll light a candle," he said and I felt his weight leave the bed.

I saw his profile brighten as he lit a match and the candle flickered to life. Where was my sketch pad? I had to capture the shadow and light on his face. The strong nose, the lips, the eyes cast down, focused on the wick flickering and then burning steady. The image would imprint in my brain but I wanted to draw him. In the morning I’d figure that out.

I also noticed that he wore pajama bottoms as he walked back to bed. He stood there looking at me. The crystal necklace I’d given him caught the light.

"May I join you?" he asked formally.

That made me laugh. "Of course."

He climbed back in and his feet were icicles as my toes reached for him.

"Are you upset with me?" he asked.

"I’m not sure. Should I be?"

"I did undress you, lass, and God knows, I couldn’t help but see your beautiful body. You were so cold and disoriented that I held you until you warmed," he sounded so contrite.

"Thank you, Pippin." I reached to touch his face, my fingers running over the stubble.

"But you are hesitant and afraid. Talk of it, please, Dannah. I want you to feel safe with me."

"You seem to know me better than I do myself at times." I sighed. "I am hesitant and afraid. I’m hesitant about disappointing you. I’m afraid," I paused and reached for him again, touching a powerful shoulder, running my hand down his muscled arm. "I’m afraid…we won’t fit." How could I say it.

"Fit?"

"You are so big. And I am not."

"I promise never to hurt you, Dannah. You must promise to tell me what you want and what you don’t."

"I trust you, Pippin. You must know I want you. It’s just…"

"If you trust me and you want me half as much as I do you, we will work it out, Love," he voice was soft near my ear now.

"And I’m worried because we haven’t had a fight yet. I don’t know how we’ll be then when we’re in disagreement."

"You will know when I am angry but I do not hurt others then. I will tell you what angers me and why. And I want the same from you. Can we start there?"

I nodded, relaxing and then pulled back suddenly. "Did you say we were married to those people downstairs?"

"No. I let them draw their own conclusions. I didn’t want to leave you alone tonight, lass. From now on, you shall have your own room."

"And if I don’t want it?" I smiled at him.

"Ye shall have what ye want," his brogue deep and husky, he kissed my ear, nibbling the lobe.

A shot of fire roused my body. I groaned as I sank into him, tasting him, returning kisses to his neck, along his jaw until our mouths seared together.

H

A weak winter sun shone as we drove the next morning. We were both contentedly quiet.

I caught my breath as we rounded a curve and I saw a castle in the distance. "Oh, Pippin MacGregor, this is magical," I cried.

"Indeed, lass. I forget and take it all for granted upon occasion. I’ll see my homeland anew through your eyes. Thank you."

"Thank you," I whispered, my eyes feasting the view as my hands dug out my sketch pad.

"This is Warwick Castle. I thought we’d spend some time here. Yes?"

"Oh, yes."

"This is called the heart of England. The castle is an outstanding architectural structure out of medieval history," he said.

"I love my tour guide," I said and laughed. And then realized what I’d said. I cast my eyes to the right. He didn’t seem to notice. Or didn’t show any facial reaction if he did.

"We’ll go to the car park and then walk to the castle," he said. I was getting used to the unusual vocabulary.

We walked down a long dimly lit hallway that stretched on and on and then entered the Great Hall, a massive room with red and white tiles and a long center table that fed a crowd of people for a feast. Suits of armor lined the walls. I spun around, not quite believing that I was actually walking here. Sunlight sliced into the hall through three massive archways.

"Can you imagine life how it was then?" I turned to Pippin.

"Actually I can," his face was serious, his eyes, distant. "It was a hard time then. It was a challenge just to stay alive. People didn’t live very long."

"You sound as if it were real to you." I turned my body to watch him.

"I was here many lifetimes ago, a reckless young knight. I died at twenty." He pulled his eyes out of the past and looked at me. "That’s not when I knew you, though. Are you hungry? We can walk into town."

"Hungry, yes. Wanting to hear more about your past, yes. Let’s walk for now." Between Talia, Harrie, Lauren and Nirvana I’d been exposed to plenty of talk about past lives. I just wasn’t sure if I believed all of it. But then I hadn’t believed in real angels until the ceremony in the standing stones at Cerridwen’s.

We strolled along narrow streets, past shops of every kind.

"There was a Great Fire in 1694," Pippin said. "Much of the town was destroyed then. What we see around us is mostly 17^th and 18^th century architecture. They rebuilt many of the destroyed buildings and remodeled others."

"I can feel the history here," I said. "I’m glad you can remember it all and share it with me."

"Father insisted we know our history. We visited England, Wales and Ireland as part of our education. Of course, he gave us a Scottish slant on the wiles of others and the Sassenach’s intention to destroy us." He smiled lightly.

"Warwick itself was founded here on the banks of the River Avon in 914 AD by Ethelfleda," he continued.

"A woman? Good for her," I said.

"Undoubtedly a wise woman with much foresight. The location was selected to defend against the Danish invaders. The original site was built on a small hill, therefore controlling the whole river valley and the river crossing on the road to London."

"Wow." I didn’t think I’d be able to explain that much American history to Pippin if we were at home. I was impressed.

We’d left Warwick High Street and walked along Swan Street.

"Enough history. Let’s eat," he said, pointing to a door.

I smiled when I looked at the restaurant name, Art Kitchen. The perfect place to eat.

"I thought you’d like it for the name. You’ll love it for the cuisine. Thai specialties and Spanish Tapas," Pippin said. "A fusion of east meets west." We followed a hostess to a table for two. I ordered drunken noodles with shrimp, Pippin, a spring roll. We shared our food.

"Eating Thai food in England with a Scotsman is something I never thought I’d do," I said. We laughed. Pippin ordered freshly made coconut ice cream for dessert.

"We could spend days here if I were to show you all the museums and parks and churches. However, I thought you might like to go down to Stratford-upon-Avon this afternoon."

"No way. Is it close?"

"Very. We’ll take the train for a change of pace if that would suit you," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"That would suit, just fine."

We walked hand in hand for a short ten minutes to the Warwick Train Station. Pippin bought tickets and we boarded the next train that arrived a half hour later. I loved riding on trains, watching the scenery fly by.

"Do you have a favorite Shakespearean passage?" Pippin asked.

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest, It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes,’" I quoted.

"Excellent."

"Much better than ‘Out, out, damned spot,’" I said. "And yours?" I prompted.

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Dannah is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief That thou her maid art far more fair than she." He leaned across and kissed my cheek. The old woman across from us smiled.

"Romeo and Juliet, adapted to your beauty," he murmured into my ear.

"May our fate have a more joyful ending."

"It will," he kissed me lightly.

We exited the train and began to walk.

"I find it hard to believe I’m walking where Shakespeare once walked," I said.

"He was born in 1564 just up the way here on Henley Street," Pippin pointed as we headed in that direction. "His mother was Mary Arden and his father John was a glover and wool dealer who also served in the office of bailiff of the borough in 1568."

"You are amazing with dates. I’m sure I’ll forget them all right away," I said.

"He married a pregnant Anne Hathaway when he was 18. I don’t know if it was his child. She was seven years older. Marriage did not sit well with him and he escaped to London to become an actor. The rest is history. Thirty seven plays in all, historical romances, light fantastical comedies and a few tragedies. It is said he was as good a business man as he was an actor and writer. He accrued quite a fortune over the years and eventually returned here to Stratford-upon-Avon where he died at the age of 52. We'll go over to his gravesite at Holy Trinity Church."

"I wonder if he took care of his child with all that money he had," I pondered. "I might have to find a biography on him. I’ve heard his work was written by Bacon. Do you believe any of that?"

"It’s hard to tell. There will always be doubters and believers. When I am here in Stratford, I find it easy to believe."

So did I.

We walked and toured what seemed to be all of Shakespeare’s local life. My feet ached and I was suddenly very tired.

"Pippin, I need to rest," I hated sounding like a wimp.

"Of course. I do get overly enthusiastic. Thank you for telling me, Love. Let’s step in here and sit for a bit."

We entered a small eatery. I ordered lemonade and Pippin had a draft.

"I wonder how long jet lag lasts," I said, leaning against his shoulder.

"It depends. Here, let me rub your feet," he turned in the booth. I lifted a foot to his lap and he took off my walking shoe and my sock.

I protested. "I’m sure my feet need a washing. You could have left the sock on."

"You have beautiful feet," he murmured, his thumbs rubbing circles that made me forget my complaint.

"And you have strong hands," I sighed.

"I learned early in life to rub feet," he said.

I raised an eyebrow in question.

"Seeing as I was the youngest, I spent a lot of time with me mum. The others would be out and about and I’d be left to tag along. She worked very hard and her feet would bother her. She’d rubbed my feet as long as I can remember. By the time I was two, I can remember rubbing her feet." His eyes had shifted to a distant memory.

"When I came home to see her in hospital, it was one of the first things she asked me to do. She was so frail that barely stroked her tired, old feet."

We were quiet for a bit. I closed my eyes as he rubbed my calves and ankles. If I had jet lag, this was certainly the best way to mend it. Suddenly I opened my eyes.

"I suppose you’ve rubbed many women’s feet over the years," I prompted, an unfamiliar jealous quiver shooting through me.

"Actually, no. Just two. Mother and you."

"Oh." I told that inner voice of doubt to shut up. I closed my eyes again and drifted into a sweet sleep. I vaguely heard Pippin talking to the waiter and the on his cell.

"Wake up, Love, we’re going to take a little ride," he said, touching my cheek gently.

I nodded and opened my eyes slowly. I’d forgotten where I was, just that I was with Pippin. He slipped his arm around my waist and guided me out into the street as a horse and carriage pulled up. The driver jumped down and opened the carriage door. Pippin helped me in and stepped up to sit beside me.

"Are we in a past life?" I asked, snuggling against him.

"It might seem like it. No. Not now. We’re here together in modern times. You need to sleep. We’re going to spend the night here."

"Umm. Good." He smelled good. I’ve never felt comfortable being weak around a man. And I felt weak now. Weak and silly—and in love. I was vulnerable and in that vulnerability I knew I was safe—for the first time in my life.

H

We spent the night at The White Swan on Rother Street, eating a room service dinner. I slept deeply and remembered no dreams. After a long shower the next morning I felt refreshed, even as I pulled on yesterday’s clothes and wished for my luggage and make up. We caught the train back to Warwick and walked to the car park.

I felt easier in the car driving on the other side of the road as Pippin drove northeast through a fine drizzle. I dozed on and off.

"Dannah, Love," Pippin said, touching my hand.

I stirred and opened my eyes slowly.

"I thought ye might like to see Hadrian’s Wall," he said, pulling the car to the side of the road.

I stretched and sat up. "I’ve heard of Hadrian’s Wall. Yes, of course I want to see it."

"I’d thought we might walk along it for a stretch but you need to recuperate from jet lag, I think. We’ll do it another day."

"No. Actually a short walk is probably just what I need to wake me up. I hate to miss anything. It is so beautiful here."

We sauntered slowly toward the ancient structure, walking hand in hand.

"A bit of history?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling at me.

"Aye, a bit of history," I mimicked an accent. "As long as I don’t have to take a test." I laughed.

"We passed Wallsend on the River Tyne, the eastern most portion of the wall. It is named after the Roman emperor Hadrian. The wall is in England but remember what I said about all those border wars? There are still some Scots would claim it down to here."

"So, we’re still in England?"

"Yes. The Romans set out to conquer the known world. This was their northern most conquest. In 122 AD, the emperor Hadrian ordered the wall built to establish the Roman border and to separate the Romans from the barbarians, the ancient people of our land called the Picts, a fierce tribe who took umbrage at the advance of the invaders."

I loved hearing his voice. We stood at the wall built all that time ago and I shivered, thinking of its history. I reached out and touched the stone and pulled my hand back quickly.

"What?"

"There was so much anger here, rage," I said, knowing not from his history lesson but from some sense that pushed through my fingers. I gazed long at the wall’s progression along the landscape. "I’m sure there’s much more history but that’s enough for now."

We walked back to the car.

"Originally I’d planned to take ye into Edinburgh but I think we’ll take the back roads to Mum’s house. We can explore another day, eh?"

"Yes. I’m excited and nervous to see your home, Pippin," I admitted. I was getting much better at this honesty stuff.

We drove along narrow roads amidst winter heather and I sketched, making notes on color and angles of sunlight. I was quite nervous about meeting his family.

H

We passed through little villages and drove for hours across rolling hills and through deep forests. Pippin pulled over near a massive yew tree and parked. He pointed down toward the valley below.

"See, far off there, is home. I’d like to go to Mum’s grave first, if you don’t mind," he said.

"I’d like that. Thank you."

Instead of following the road downward he pulled off on a narrow dirt road. The car bumped along following the erratic lane until we came upon a small graveyard with an old iron fence around it. We got out and walked up to the gate. Pippin led the way along a path that wound over the top of a hill. I paused and let him go forward, recognizing the trees, the gravestone and Pippin as he bent to honor his mother. At last he stood and I walked forward to join him.

He slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me to him.

"Pippin, I saw you here, just as you were now," I said. "I painted it."

"I’d like to see it, Dannah." He paused. "I told her about you," he said. He was staring at the gravestone, the still mounded earth.

"She’d always said I’d meet my true mate. She thought of Jenny as my childhood playmate and never as a true wife. When I first met you, I called her. I described you," he looked down at me, his eyes a deep blue.

Running a hand over my hair slowly, he said, "I told her about your leaping hair, your beautiful face, your probing eyes. How tiny you were. How I could not stop thinking of you. I told her all that and more. She asked if I’d told you. I said I could not. I feared ye would reject me."

"You’re telling me now. Thank you," I whispered, a catch in my throat. "And I’m not rejecting you, Pippin MacGregor."

He pulled me closer, wrapping his overcoat around me.

"When I came home and found her so ill, I just sat with her and talked. She’d have her eyes closed but I knew she heard me. I told her about everything and how much I missed you already."

With my hand on his chest, I could hear his heart thumping.

"She made me promise to tell you, to ask you, to not waste another moment of my life."

I looked up at him and waited. The bond between us made my heart ache with want of him, with commitment to and from him. I’d been afraid he would not return my feelings. I held my breath, waiting.

"Dannah Davidson, now here, in front of me mither, I tell you now that I love you beyond reason, beyond knowledge, from a place deep in my heart. I love you as I remember you in a past life, and I love you this very moment for everything you are, for everything you’ve gone through. I love you."

Tears welled in my eyes. I pressed my lips together, not wanting to cry. "I love you, Pippin MacGregor. Like I never thought possible, with a feeling I’ve never had before in this life. I love you with an openness I didn’t think was possible. I love that I can tell you I love you," I choked it all out in a rambling way.

He lifted me off the ground in a bear hug. The sparks and embers glowing as my heart flamed. When our lips met there was nothing but total buzzing love flying in twinkling lights around us.

"Dannah," he said, his eyes probing mine, "Will ye be my wife?"

"Forever," I said.

He kissed the tears running down my cheeks. Then, holding me with one arm, he reached into a pocket in his overcoat and pulled out a small velvet box.

"Ye don’t know how much I waited for you to say that, Love." He opened the box and slipped out the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen. "Will you wear this as a small token of my love for you?"

My answer was the same. "Forever."

H

Chapter XLIX

Back in the car, Pippin started the engine but we sat, looking down at his childhood home.

"Pippin, are you sure?" I asked.

"About what, lass?"

"That we should marry without ever having made love?" I looked at the ring on my left hand.

"We are making love whenever we’re together," he said, making me gulp back tears once again. "When you are ready is the right time. I don’t love you because I lust after you. Perhaps it is the other way around. I love you, thus I lust after you." He shot me a devilish grin and I relaxed.

"I don’t want you to regret anything," I said.

"Nor I you. Do you not believe we have already conquered obstacles and will find the way to succeed no matter what the future holds?"

In the depths of his blue eyes I saw trust and love and knew that what he spoke was true.

"Yes," I said simply.

I looked through the windshield again toward his home. "Who will be there when we arrive?" I asked, nervous again, but more confident in our relationship.

"Probably William, my oldest brother. And my sister Rachel, she’s just older than me. Rob may or may not be here. He’s the middle child and troublesome as one. Just ignore him if he makes you feel uncomfortable. Thaddeus teaches at Oxford and probably isn’t here." Pippin said.

"I thought there were seven of you," I said, counting on my fingers and wondering.

"Yes. Girl twins just before Rob. Gladiola and Rosalyn. They died when I was very young. Mum always left a place at the dinner table for them after they were gone. They took away some of her spark when they passed," he said and turned toward me. "Do you think you’re ready to take on the rest of the MacGregor’s?"

"I’m not certain," I confessed.

"Nay worry. William will like ye fine. And you’ll get on with Rachel. She can’t wait to meet you. Let’s hope Rob isn’t here."

I wondered what he meant but figured if there were two I’d like that would be more than I had expected.

H

The house looked an elegant old dwelling as we drove through stone gates. A woman stood on the porch, waving.

"That’s Rachel," Pippin said.

I smiled and tried to calm my butterflies.

Soon she was hugging us both and chattering about ordering up tea and how glad she was we’d come home.

We walked up stone steps to the portico. Pippin opened the towering door and I followed Rachel inside, blinking at the change in light and the majesty of an ancient homestead.

"This way," Rachel instructed and I followed her into a formal parlour. I sat on the edge of a settee next to Pippin.

"Oh, tell me everything," gushed Rachel. "In just a minute. Here’s Maggie with the tea. Thank you." She smiled graciously and Maggie set a tea tray on the table between us.

"First, Rachel, you begin. Is William here? And Robbie? I assume Thaddeus went back to university," Pippin said.

"William is expected back soon. As Mum wanted, he will take over things here." She turned to me. "A bit old fashioned our parents were. So, first born gets the family home and the land. Youngest born here went off and made his own fortune. Rob is still trying to horn in on anyone’s pockets he can get into. Yes, Pippin, he’s here but out riding at the moment." Then she smiled and in her I recognized the similarity she shared with her brother.

We sipped tea and I told her about our historic drive and visiting Warwick Castle, Stratford-upon-Avon and Hadrian’s Wall. She threw in added tidbits of information and I could tell I was going to be learning a lot more history from this family.

"What a lovely ring, Dannah," she said. "Is it new?"

"You don’t miss a thing, big sister," Pippin said.

"Yes. I said yes to Pippin." I turned and his eyes held mine.

"Lovebirds." She giggled. "I thought you’d still like to be in your own room, Pippin, so I fixed it up for two."

He sighed and turned toward her. "Thanks, Rachel. I’ll get the bags and take them upstairs. Would you like to give Dannah a quick tour?"

"I thought you’d never ask. I’m so excited to meet you, sister to be. We’ll have such fun."

I agreed. I liked her immediately and hoped she’d come visit us in Fondis.

I lost track of the number of rooms in the house as I followed her around, listening, on overload, to family history. Upstairs she took me to Pippin’s room.

"If you need anything, just ask. We probably have it or can get it," she said.

"Thanks, Rachel, for making me feel so welcome." I gave her a hug that she returned like an old friend.

"Pippin says you’re an artist. You’re welcome to browse throughout the rest of Mum’s house and look at the art work. Mostly it’s dreary old ancestors, I’m afraid, so it shan’t take you long." She laughed and slipped out the door.

H

I wandered slowly around Pippin’s childhood room, adapted over the years to reveal the scope of his interests. One wall held a bookcase, filled from floor to ceiling. History and science, computers and literature, kite making books and poetry, to name a few. It looked like a great reference library where I might find anything.

I paused at the roll top desk, my eyes flickering over an array of items. I didn’t want to be intrusive but I wanted to examine every little thing. I took a deep breath when I saw the photo of Pippin, Jenny and (son,) who looked so much like his father it made my heart ache.

"Yes, I knew you’d see that, Dannah."

Jumping at his words, I spun around like a child guilty of trespassing. I hadn’t heard him come in.

"I did think of putting it away, but I couldn’t. It is my past. I knew it might make you uncomfortable." He walked to my side and slipped his arm around my shoulders. "I’m sorry if it does so."

"He looked so much like you," I said.

"Aye. So everyone said. I saw him as his own person so didn’t notice so much. I will always miss him."

I put my arm around his waist and we turned toward each other, hugging.

"Did you see what’s in the corner over here?" He pulled me to a draped object and unfurled it. "Just for you, Dannah darling." He grinned, very pleased with himself.

My mouth fell as I gazed at a beautiful hand finished easel and a box of oil paints. "Pippin—I don’t know what to say."

"I hope it will suffice. My old friend Danny is wonderful with woods. I told him what I wanted. Rachel helped find the oil paints."

"You’re wonderful. Thank you so much. I’ve been sketching like crazy but all these ideas pour through my head, drift through my dreams, all wanting canvas and color. Thank you, thank you, thank you." I reached for his face and he leaned down to kiss me.

"Are you feeling comfortable? Will you be fine alone? I’d like to go down to the stables and look for William. You may come along if you would prefer," he said, a finger twining around one of my wild curls.

"Go see William. I’m fine. I’ll get my bags organized and maybe even paint."

His lips touch mine again, lingering, our tongues promising more for the evening.

I pulled out my sketchbook and flipped through pages. Yes. I would paint first. Unpacking would happen later.

I was intend on painting my dream image of Ethelfleda, the formidable founder of Warwick, as I’d seen her in a dream, standing on a hillside with her angel guarding her from above.

First I wanted to absorb this home of Pippin’s that represented the core of him in some fashion I would never truly comprehend. I sank unto the edge of the bed, thinking of him as a little boy waking up in this room, of how the light would shine on his fine red hair. I smiled and leaned into his pillows, looking at the design of the ceiling and wondering at his fantasies.

Back in the car, Pippin started the engine but we sat, looking down at his childhood home.

"Pippin, are you sure?" I asked.

"About what, lass?"

"That we should marry without ever having made love?" I looked at the ring on my left hand.

"We are making love whenever we’re together," he said, making me gulp back tears once again. "When you are ready is the right time. I don’t love you because I lust after you. Perhaps it is the other way around. I love you, thus I lust after you." He shot me a devilish grin and I relaxed.

"I don’t want you to regret anything," I said.

"Nor I you. Do you not believe we have already conquered obstacles and will find the way to succeed no matter what the future holds?"

In the depths of his blue eyes I saw trust and love and knew that what he spoke was true.

"Yes," I said simply.

I looked through the windshield again toward his home. "Who will be there when we arrive?" I asked, nervous again, but more confident in our relationship.

"Probably William, my oldest brother. And my sister Rachel, she’s just older than me. Rob may or may not be here. He’s the middle child and troublesome as one. Just ignore him if he makes you feel uncomfortable. Thaddeus teaches at Oxford and probably isn’t here." Pippin said.

"I thought there were seven of you," I said, counting on my fingers and wondering.

"Yes. Girl twins just before Rob. Gladiola and Rosalyn. They died when I was very young. Mum always left a place at the dinner table for them after they were gone. They took away some of her spark when they passed," he said and turned toward me. "Do you think you’re ready to take on the rest of the MacGregor’s?"

"I’m not certain," I confessed.

"Nay worry. William will like ye fine. And you’ll get on with Rachel. She can’t wait to meet you. Let’s hope Rob isn’t here."

I wondered what he meant but figured if there were two I’d like that would be more than I had expected.

H

The house looked an elegant old dwelling as we drove through stone gates. A woman stood on the porch, waving.

"That’s Rachel," Pippin said.

I smiled and tried to calm my butterflies.

Soon she was hugging us both and chattering about ordering up tea and how glad she was we’d come home.

We walked up stone steps to the portico. Pippin opened the towering door and I followed Rachel inside, blinking at the change in light and the majesty of an ancient homestead.

"This way," Rachel instructed and I followed her into a formal parlour. I sat on the edge of a settee next to Pippin.

"Oh, tell me everything," gushed Rachel. "In just a minute. Here’s Maggie with the tea. Thank you." She smiled graciously and Maggie set a tea tray on the table between us.

"First, Rachel, you begin. Is William here? And Robbie? I assume Thaddeus went back to university," Pippin said.

"William is expected back soon. As Mum wanted, he will take over things here." She turned to me. "A bit old fashioned our parents were. So, first born gets the family home and the land. Youngest born here went off and made his own fortune. Rob is still trying to horn in on anyone’s pockets he can get into. Yes, Pippin, he’s here but out riding at the moment." Then she smiled and in her I recognized the similarity she shared with her brother.

We sipped tea and I told her about our historic drive and visiting Warwick Castle, Stratford-upon-Avon and Hadrian’s Wall. She threw in added tidbits of information and I could tell I was going to be learning a lot more history from this family.

"What a lovely ring, Dannah," she said. "Is it new?"

"You don’t miss a thing, big sister," Pippin said.

"Yes. I said yes to Pippin." I turned and his eyes held mine.

"Lovebirds." She giggled. "I thought you’d still like to be in your own room, Pippin, so I fixed it up for two."

He sighed and turned toward her. "Thanks, Rachel. I’ll get the bags and take them upstairs. Would you like to give Dannah a quick tour?"

"I thought you’d never ask. I’m so excited to meet you, sister to be. We’ll have such fun."

I agreed. I liked her immediately and hoped she’d come visit us in Fondis.

I lost track of the number of rooms in the house as I followed her around, listening, on overload, to family history. Upstairs she took me to Pippin’s room.

"If you need anything, just ask. We probably have it or can get it," she said.

"Thanks, Rachel, for making me feel so welcome." I gave her a hug that she returned like an old friend.

"Pippin says you’re an artist. You’re welcome to browse throughout the rest of Mum’s house and look at the art work. Mostly it’s dreary old ancestors, I’m afraid, so it shan’t take you long." She laughed and slipped out the door.

H

We passed through little villages and drove for hours across rolling hills and through deep forests. Pippin pulled over near a massive yew tree and parked. He pointed down toward the valley below.

"See, far off there, is home. I’d like to go to Mum’s grave first, if you don’t mind," he said.

"I’d like that. Thank you."

Instead of following the road downward he pulled off on a narrow dirt road. The car bumped along following the erratic lane until we came upon a small graveyard with an old iron fence around it. We got out and walked up to the gate. Pippin led the way along a path that wound over the top of a hill. I paused and let him go forward, recognizing the trees, the gravestone and Pippin as he bent to honor his mother. At last he stood and I walked forward to join him.

He slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me to him.

"Pippin, I saw you here, just as you were now," I said. "I painted it."

"I’d like to see it, Dannah." He paused. "I told her about you," he said. He was staring at the gravestone, the still mounded earth.

"She’d always said I’d meet my true mate. She thought of Jenny as my childhood playmate and never as a true wife. When I first met you, I called her. I described you," he looked down at me, his eyes a deep blue.

Running a hand over my hair slowly, he said, "I told her about your leaping hair, your beautiful face, your probing eyes. How tiny you were. How I could not stop thinking of you. I told her all that and more. She asked if I’d told you. I said I could not. I feared ye would reject me."

"You’re telling me now. Thank you," I whispered, a catch in my throat. "And I’m not rejecting you, Pippin MacGregor."

He pulled me closer, wrapping his overcoat around me.

"When I came home and found her so ill, I just sat with her and talked. She’d have her eyes closed but I knew she heard me. I told her about everything and how much I missed you already."

With my hand on his chest, I could hear his heart thumping.

"She made me promise to tell you, to ask you, to not waste another moment of my life."

I looked up at him and waited. The bond between us made my heart ache with want of him, with commitment to and from him. I’d been afraid he would not return my feelings. I held my breath, waiting.

"Dannah Davidson, now here, in front of me mither, I tell you now that I love you beyond reason, beyond knowledge, from a place deep in my heart. I love you as I remember you in a past life, and I love you this very moment for everything you are, for everything you’ve gone through. I love you."

Tears welled in my eyes. I pressed my lips together, not wanting to cry. "I love you, Pippin MacGregor. Like I never thought possible, with a feeling I’ve never had before in this life. I love you with an openness I didn’t think was possible. I love that I can tell you I love you," I choked it all out in a rambling way.

He lifted me off the ground in a bear hug. The sparks and embers glowing as my heart flamed. When our lips met there was nothing but total buzzing love flying in twinkling lights around us.

"Dannah," he said, his eyes probing mine, "Will ye be my wife?"

"Forever," I said.

He kissed the tears running down my cheeks. Then, holding me with one arm, he reached into a pocket in his overcoat and pulled out a small velvet box.

"Ye don’t know how much I waited for you to say that, Love." He opened the box and slipped out the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen. "Will you wear this as a small token of my love for you?"

My answer was the same. "Forever."

H

We spent the night at The White Swan on Rother Street, eating a room service dinner. I slept deeply and remembered no dreams. After a long shower the next morning I felt refreshed, even as I pulled on yesterday’s clothes and wished for my luggage and make up. We caught the train back to Warwick and walked to the car park.

I felt easier in the car driving on the other side of the road as Pippin drove northeast through a fine drizzle. I dozed on and off.

"Dannah, Love," Pippin said, touching my hand.

I stirred and opened my eyes slowly.

"I thought ye might like to see Hadrian’s Wall," he said, pulling the car to the side of the road.

I stretched and sat up. "I’ve heard of Hadrian’s Wall. Yes, of course I want to see it."

"I’d thought we might walk along it for a stretch but you need to recuperate from jet lag, I think. We’ll do it another day."

"No. Actually a short walk is probably just what I need to wake me up. I hate to miss anything. It is so beautiful here."

We sauntered slowly toward the ancient structure, walking hand in hand.

"A bit of history?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling at me.

"Aye, a bit of history," I mimicked an accent. "As long as I don’t have to take a test." I laughed.

"We passed Wallsend on the River Tyne, the eastern most portion of the wall. It is named after the Roman emperor Hadrian. The wall is in England but remember what I said about all those border wars? There are still some Scots would claim it down to here."

"So, we’re still in England?"

"Yes. The Romans set out to conquer the known world. This was their northern most conquest. In 122 AD, the emperor Hadrian ordered the wall built to establish the Roman border and to separate the Romans from the barbarians, the ancient people of our land called the Picts, a fierce tribe who took umbrage at the advance of the invaders."

I loved hearing his voice. We stood at the wall built all that time ago and I shivered, thinking of its history. I reached out and touched the stone and pulled my hand back quickly.

"What?"

"There was so much anger here, rage," I said, knowing not from his history lesson but from some sense that pushed through my fingers. I gazed long at the wall’s progression along the landscape. "I’m sure there’s much more history but that’s enough for now."

We walked back to the car.

"Originally I’d planned to take ye into Edinburgh but I think we’ll take the back roads to Mum’s house. We can explore another day, eh?"

"Yes. I’m excited and nervous to see your home, Pippin," I admitted. I was getting much better at this honesty stuff.

We drove along narrow roads amidst winter heather and I sketched, making notes on color and angles of sunlight. I was quite nervous about meeting his family.

H

A weak winter sun shone as we drove the next morning. We were both contentedly quiet.

I caught my breath as we rounded a curve and I saw a castle in the distance. "Oh, Pippin MacGregor, this is magical," I cried.

"Indeed, lass. I forget and take it all for granted upon occasion. I’ll see my homeland anew through your eyes. Thank you."

"Thank you," I whispered, my eyes feasting the view as my hands dug out my sketch pad.

"This is Warwick Castle. I thought we’d spend some time here. Yes?"

"Oh, yes."

"This is called the heart of England. The castle is an outstanding architectural structure out of medieval history," he said.

"I love my tour guide," I said and laughed. And then realized what I’d said. I cast my eyes to the right. He didn’t seem to notice. Or didn’t show any facial reaction if he did.

"We’ll go to the car park and then walk to the castle," he said. I was getting used to the unusual vocabulary.

We walked down a long dimly lit hallway that stretched on and on and then entered the Great Hall, a massive room with red and white tiles and a long center table that feed a crowd of people for a feast. Suits of armor lined the walls. I spun around, not quite believing that I was actually walking here. Sunlight sliced into the hall through three massive archways.

"Can you imagine life how it was then?" I turned to Pippin.

"Actually I can," his face was serious, his eyes, distant. "It was a hard time then. It was a challenge just to stay alive. People didn’t live very long."

"You sound as if it were real to you." I turned my body to watch him.

"I was here many lifetimes ago, a reckless young knight. I died at twenty." He pulled his eyes out of the past and looked at me. "That’s not when I knew you, though. Are you hungry? We can walk into town."

"Hungry, yes. Wanting to hear more about your past, yes. Let’s walk for now." Between Talia, Harrie, Lauren and Nirvana I’d been exposed to plenty of talk about past lives. I just wasn’t sure if I believed all of it. But then I hadn’t believed in real angels until the ceremony in the standing stones at Cerridwen’s.

We strolled along narrow streets, past shops of every kind.

"There was a Great Fire in 1694," Pippin said. "Much of the town was destroyed then. What we see around us is mostly 17^th and 18^th century architecture. They rebuilt many of the destroyed buildings and remodeled others."

"I can feel the history here," I said. "I’m glad you can remember it all."

"Father insisted we know our history. We visited England, Wales and Ireland as part of our education. Of course, he gave us a Scottish slant on the wiles of others and the Sassenach’s intention to destroy us." He smiled lightly.

"Warwick itself was founded here on the banks of the River Avon in 914 AD by Ethelfleda," he continued.

"A woman? Good for her," I said.

"Undoubtedly a wise woman with much foresight. The location was selected to defend against the Danish invaders. The original site was built on a small hill, therefore controlling the whole river valley and the river crossing on the road to London."

"Wow." I didn’t think I’d be able to explain that much American history to Pippin if we were at home. I was impressed.

We’d left Warwick High Street and walked along Swan Street.

"Enough history. Let’s eat," he said, pointing to a door.

I smiled when I looked at the restaurant name, Art Kitchen. The perfect place to eat.

"I thought you’d like it for the name. You’ll love it for the cuisine. Thai specialties and Spanish Tapas," Pippin said. "A fusion of east meets west." We followed a hostess to a table for two. I ordered drunken noodles with shrimp, Pippin, a spring roll. We shared our food.

"Eating Thai food in England with a Scotsman is something I never thought I’d do," I said. We laughed. Pippin ordered freshly made coconut ice cream for dessert.

"We could spend days here if I were to show you all the museums and parks and churches. However, I thought you might like to go down to Stratford-upon-Avon this afternoon."

"No way. Is that close?"

"Very. We’ll take the train for a change of pace if that would suit you," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"That would suit, just fine."

We walked hand in hand for a short ten minutes to the Warwick Train Station. Pippin bought tickets and we boarded the next train that arrived a half hour later. I loved riding on trains, watching the scenery fly by.

"Do you have a favorite Shakespearean passage?" Pippin asked.

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest, It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes,’" I quoted.

"Excellent."

"Much better than ‘Out, out, damned spot,’" I said. "And yours?" I prompted.

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Dannah is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief That thou her maid art far more fair than she." He leaned across and kissed my cheek. The old woman across from us smiled.

"Romeo and Juliet," he murmured into my ear.

"May our fate have a more joyful ending."

"It will," he kissed me lightly.

We exited the train and began to walk.

"I find it hard to believe I’m walking where Shakespeare once walked," I said.

"He was born in 1564 just up the way here on Henley Street," Pippin pointed as we headed in that direction. "His mother was Mary Arden and his father John was a glover and wool dealer who also served in the office of bailiff of the borough in 1568."

"You are amazing with dates. I’m sure I’ll forget them all right away," I said.

"He married a pregnant Anne Hathaway when he was 18. I don’t know if it was his child. She was seven years older. Marriage did not sit well with him and he escaped to London to become an actor. The rest is history. Thirty seven plays in all, historical romances, light fantastical comedy and a few tragedies. It is said he was as good a business man as he was an actor and writer. He accrued quite a fortune over the years and eventually returned here to Stratford-upon-Avon where he died at the age of 52. We'll go over to his gravesite at Holy Trinity Church."

"I wonder if he took care of his child with all that money he had," I pondered. "I might have to find a biography on him. I’ve heard his work was written by Bacon. Do you believe any of that?"

"It’s hard to tell. There will always be doubters and believers. When I am here in Stratford, I find it easy to believe."

So did I.

We walked and toured what seemed to be all of Shakespeare’s life. My feet ached and I was suddenly very tired.

"Pippin, I need to rest," I hated sounding like a wimp.

"Of course. I do get over enthusiastic. Thank you for telling me, Love. Let’s step in here and sit for a bit."

We entered a small eatery. I ordered lemonade and Pippin had a draft.

"I wonder how long jet lag lasts," I said, leaning against his shoulder.

"It depends. Here, let me rub your feet," he turned in the booth. I lifted a foot to his lap and he took off my walking shoe and my sock.

I protested. "I’m sure my feet need a washing. You could have left the sock on."

"You have beautiful feet," he murmured, his thumbs rubbing circles that made me forget my complaint.

"And you have strong hands," I sighed.