by Tefft, Cyndi
“We should go. It’s not good for you to be here.”
I shook my head vehemently and pulled myself together. “No. I won’t let her spoil this for me.” The lights in the lobby dimmed briefly, then came back up. “Come on. That means it’s going to start again so we need to go sit down.” I could feel his resistance but I was determined to enjoy the rest of the symphony in spite of my mother and Nick.
The second movement of the composition was a tribute to Mars, the Roman god of war, and the percussion instruments on stage had doubled in number. The cymbals crashed over me like waves breaking on the sea as I listened, unable to move. Emotions raged within me as the music pounded and pulsed in a symphonic battle. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the movement of the air, which swirled around and through me as the violins built momentum in a frenzied cadence. The timpani rolled like thunder through my blood, the horns blasting staccato in a defiant march to the finish. I felt battered and bruised with my heart tossed against the rocks when the piece ended, and could hardly muster the energy to stand and clap with the rest of the audience. Aiden frowned down at me, concerned.
“We’re going,” he said. “I’ll make the cast myself if I need to, but we are not staying here any longer. I won’t allow anything to cause you pain if it’s in my power to stop it.”
“Just one more thing,” I pleaded. “I want you to see the city lights at night. Then we can go. Just come with me on the drive home. That’s all I ask.”
He stared at me for a long time without answering, his brow furrowed. “Fine, then. I’ll do as you ask, but this is the last time. I haven’t much time with you, Lindsey and I don’t want to spend it like this.” His eyes searched mine for any sign of distress. Finding nothing but a tired peace, he sighed and kissed me lightly on the forehead.
An instant later, we were back in the car with my family. Soft classical music was playing on the radio and Mom sat in the front seat with her eyes closed, swaying slightly to the music. “Mmmm, isn’t it heavenly?” she said. “Lindsey, you should marry a man who can play an instrument so he can serenade you.” I rolled my eyes, realizing that she was likely recounting her encounter at the bar with Nick.
Dad glowered at her. “What kind of ridiculous criteria is that for a husband?” He craned his neck to see me in the rear-view mirror. “All that matters is that he loves you, respects you, is honest and trustworthy, and wants nothing more than your happiness. And if he is all of those things, you’ll know he’ll never leave you, no matter what.” He glanced over at my mom with a sigh, shaking his head. My heart reached out to him since I could tell he was talking to her as much as to me and she didn’t even get it.
“Gary, you’re such a romantic. What are the chances she’s going to find someone who meets all of your lofty criteria?” She waved her hand at him in dismissal.
To my surprise, Dad and Aiden frowned at her with identical expressions and responded together sternly, “She will.” Mom sighed in exasperation and looked out the car window, obviously done with the conversation. Aiden put his arm around me possessively, his face set like stone.
“You guyyyyys!” my younger self whined from the backseat. “It’s not like I’m interviewing anyone for a husband right now so you don’t need to fight about it. Geez!” She settled back in a huff with her arms crossed.
Hoping to dispel some of the tension, I pointed out the downtown buildings all-aglow.
“Look, Aiden! Isn’t it beautiful? I’ve always loved the city at night, with the twinkling lights and the reflection of the moonlight on the water. It’s as if the stars came down from the sky and landed on all the buildings.”
“Aye, it is lovely. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”
Suddenly a loud strain of pop music burst out from the front seat and Mom reached into her purse for her phone.
“Hello? Hey, Suzanne. Yep, we just got back from the symphony. It was fabulous. What? Oh yeah, I’ll be at the PTA meeting on Wednesday. Is there anything I should bring? Okay, I can pick up some cookies from the store. It’s not like I’m gonna be baking them myself! All right, talk to you later.”
Aiden watched her, confused, and I tried to explain. “It’s called a cell phone,” I said. “You can talk with people on it, if they have a phone, too.”
“It’s not attached to anything. I saw it! How could she have been talking to someone? And where is this Suzanne woman anyway? She’s not in the car!”
“Truthfully, I don’t know how it really works,” I admitted. “It has to do with signals passed between the two phones. And it doesn’t really matter where the other person is because the signals travel all over the world. We could call someone in Scotland and it would sound like they were sitting in the car with us.”
Dad pulled the car into the drive, pushing the garage door opener on the dash. Aiden made his trademark grunt as he watched the door magically open for us, shaking his head but not saying anything.
“You’ve had enough for one day, I think,” I said. Closing my eyes, I cast the image of my girlhood bedroom. The garage melted away, replaced by a bed with ruffled pillows and a pink comforter covered in white daisies. Lacy curtains hung in the octagonal bay window. Music posters plastered the walls and a whimsical purple lantern hung from the ceiling right above a large beanbag chair of the same color. It was familiar and comfortable and I sighed contentedly, grateful for the change in pace. For the first time all day, we were blissfully alone with no memories to follow, no agenda, just the two of us. He surveyed the room, smiling at the girlish decoration.
“I like it. It looks like you. It has your spirit.”
“Best of all,” I said, “there’s a trundle bed so you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” I pulled the extra bed out from underneath my own with a triumphant flair. He lifted one eyebrow at the twin size mattress.
“Now if only I were a young maiden and could fit on that wee bed, eh?” He lay down on the bed in demonstration, his feet sticking off the edge by a good twelve inches. I threw one of my ruffled pillows at him, which he caught and tucked behind his head. “Nah, it’s not so bad. I can roll over on one side. But I’m going to change back into my kilt, if you don’t mind.”
The shimmer of his change rolled through me and I did the same, choosing a pink nightgown rather than the grungy t-shirt I usually wore to bed. I crawled onto the higher bed and lay on my stomach, my fingertips trailing over the edge and playing with his hair.
“So what did you think of Seattle? Did you have any fun at all?” I asked. He stared up at the ceiling and chuckled softly.
“Aye, for certain. But truthfully lass, I wouldn’t be surprised if you climbed the walls like a spider and hung from the ceiling like a bat, for all I’ve seen today. I cannot even describe what it’s like to go forward three hundred years in the future and to see how things have changed. I don’t understand it, but thank you for showing me your home.” He kissed my fingertips and I sighed, thankful to have shared my memories with him, but also very glad the day was over.
Chapter 12
A heavy mist shrouded Eilean Donan Castle and the cool evening air pinched my cheeks. Energy bubbled up from my core and I ran with that same effortless strength that I’d had upon first awakening into this mysterious place. I focused my mind on the movement of my muscles under my skin.
“Come on, let’s go!” I shouted over my shoulder to Aiden, who had fallen behind. His labored breathing grew faint as I sped away from him. The greenery surrounding me was sparse but welcoming, and I had no fear of tripping or falling. It was as if the ground itself was rising up to meet me with each step. The air rushed around me and through me as I ran. My lungs pulled in the nourishing substance like water to parched lips. My mind emptied of all thoughts and I concentrated on this extraordinary sensation of being one with the elements.
I win!
A thrill ran through me that I’d reached the church before Aiden. The moonlight reflected brightly on the mirrored surface of t
he water and I marveled at its beauty. The air began to vibrate and swirl around me in an embrace, caressing and holding me where I stood. It moved through me, filling each cell in my body with a wholeness I’d never known before. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, feeling God’s presence and recognizing it like a long-lost friend.
Music emanated from the presence within me, powerful and delicate like an angelic symphony. My soul soared at the sound. I swayed in place as the song built majestically to a crescendo, my heart full of unspeakable joy and peace. I turned to share my happiness with Aiden and found him standing far-off, one hand held up in a silent farewell.
“No,” I whispered. “No, I don’t want to leave him. Please don’t make me, God,” I said, my chest constricting with loss. The power slowly seeped out from me, the notes diminishing and fading into silence. I stood looking out over the water for a long time, aware of the remnants of His presence still with me, calling me home.
Chapter 13
I woke to the familiar scent of the rosebush outside my bedroom window, the morning breeze blowing lightly across my face. A stray curl tickled my cheek and I brushed it away with a yawn. I grumbled sleepily, not wanting to wake up, knowing Mom would be down any second to yell at me to get ready for school. I furrowed my brow in protest and clamped my eyes shut, burying my face in the pillow.
“Don’t wanna. Lemme alone. Rhf grn strk…” I argued blearily. A hand stroked my cheek and I slowly roused as whispers of fluid French wished me a good morning. Confused, I peeked open one eye and saw Aiden’s gentle face smiling down at me. His presence was a balm to my spirit and I sighed contentedly, reaching out to touch him. He took my hand and pressed it to his cheek, then turned and kissed my palm. A tingle ran across my shoulders.
“You’re always awake before me,” I observed.
“You’re a good sleeper. You will not wake until you’re ready, and you don’t notice the sound of me moving around the room.” Embarrassed, I dropped my gaze, feeling like a sloth. “I love to watch you sleep in the morn,” he continued. “You look so bonnie and your face is very expressive when you dream. I wish I could see what you’re dreaming about, though.” I seldom remembered my dreams, and something niggled at the edge of my mind, but I dismissed it. I shrugged and sat up, stretching, and then shot him a sly smile.
“Well, they’ve got to be all about you, but you probably wouldn’t approve of them anyway because I’m sure they are entirely inappropriate. Well, at least the best ones are.” He threw his head back with a full belly laugh. The sound echoed joyfully around the room and I joined in. He knelt on the trundle bed mattress beneath me and pulled me into his arms.
“Ah, my love. I’m certain I’ve already seen those dreams because I’ve had them myself. And you’re right, those are the best ones.” He kissed me full on the lips as if to prove his point, but I didn’t need any convincing. I loved the feel of his mouth on mine, his strong arms around me, and my heartbeat skipped erratically in response to his touch. An image sprang to mind and I started to giggle.
“Sorry, it’s just that I had this vision of my mom coming down the hall to check on me, and here I am kissing you in my bedroom. I had a sudden compulsion to hide you in the closet so she wouldn’t find out.” He chuckled and sat down on the bed below me, his hand still holding mine.
“I was going to cast you some breakfast,” he said, “but I wasn’t sure what you might like. We’ve already established you’re not fond of parritch.”
“You noticed, huh? Actually, I’d like to cook breakfast for you,” I said.
“Aye, I’d love that. Shall we go to the kitchen, then?”
“No, not here. I want to take you to my favorite place in the whole world, our family cabin on the lake in Idaho. I’ll make you eggs and potatoes in a cast iron skillet on the old wood stove.”
“Mmmm, a cabin on the lake sounds lovely. I’ve had eggs before but never potatoes. What are they like?”
“You’ve never had potatoes? Oh, I’m so glad I didn’t live with you in the 1700s. Potatoes are my favorite food! French fries, tater tots, baby reds, mashed potatoes, baked… Oh my gosh…” Just thinking about it made me salivate.
“All right, all right, I’ll give them a try if you like them so much. Maybe I’ll like them as much as parritch.” He gave me a teasing wink.
“Come on, now I’m hungry,” I said and made the cast.
The kitchen of our family cabin materialized out of thin air as my girlish bedroom faded away. Aiden was still in his kilt, but I’d changed out of my pink nightgown into a yellow sundress and sandals when I’d cast the change. The fresh country air filled my lungs and I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes in bliss.
An antique wood stove and an old red refrigerator dominated the small kitchen. The fridge had three cooling boxes with latching handles and made a loud humming sound that filled the room. The walls consisted of rounded hand hewn logs, painstakingly fitted together. Gingham curtains framed the windows and the lake sparkled in the sunlight through the trees outside. I reveled in the ability to imagine the cabin and miraculously be there moments later.
“Dang, that’s cool. It used to take us seven hours to drive here from Seattle. That’s like the distance from Scotland to London, England, I think.”
Aiden looked at me like I was crazy.
“No, lassie. You can’t go from anywhere in Scotland to London in seven hours. It takes much longer than that.” I shrugged and reached under the sink to grab some kindling for the wood stove.
“Actually, I was just talking about driving. I’ll bet you can fly there in a couple hours.” He made a derisive cough in his throat and rolled his eyes.
“Right, let’s just sprout some wings now and go for a wee flight. Aye, two hours seems about right.” He licked a finger and stuck it out in front of him as if checking the direction of the wind, his tone dripping with sarcasm and I had to laugh.
“No, smart alec, we don’t turn into birds but it’s just about as cool. Do you remember seeing the planes in the sky when we were in Seattle? They were really high up and looked like big metal tubes with wings like birds.” He nodded with a frown. “I honestly don’t know how it works,” I said, “but you can fit hundreds of people on a plane and it can fly at like 600 miles per hour.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You don’t mean to tell me that there were people in the belly of that metal bird in the sky.” He’d seen a lot of crazy things yesterday but I could tell he thought I was pulling his leg.
“Yep, I do. Maybe sometime I’ll cast the memory of flying from Seattle to Portland so you can see it for yourself. But for right now, I promised you some potatoes.” I opened the cover on the firebox of the stove and layered in the kindling and newspaper like my dad taught me.
“Would you like to use my flint?” he offered, reaching into his sporran.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a lighter.” I pulled out the adjustable butane lighter and pressed the button, a flame instantly leaping to life at the tip.
“That’s a right handy wee contraption you have there!” he said, visibly impressed. “Mind if I have a look around?”
“Sure, go ahead. I’m going to be here a while. Breakfast probably won’t be ready for another fifteen or twenty minutes. Be sure to go upstairs,” I pointed over my shoulder with the peeler in my hand, “to see the loft. There are several beds up there, since the cabin sleeps about eight people. So you won’t have to sleep on the floor. Your feet won’t even hang off the edge on some of them.” I winked at him and he grinned before wandering off to explore.
The centerpiece of the living room was a large rock fireplace built by hand with rocks drug from the lake. A couple of armchairs sat on either side with homemade footstools that looked like mushrooms. I smiled as I remembered making those with my dad when I was about eight, stretching the red naugahyde leather over the foam caps and stapling it to the squatty wood logs with Dad’s staple gun. He’d been very careful to show me how to do it so I wouldn’t g
et hurt and I was so proud of myself for having made the little rustic cushions.
“Made from genuine naugha cows,” he used to boast and it wasn’t until I was much older that I learned there’s no such thing as a naugha cow. I shook my head at his goofy sense of humor. Two old mismatched couches faced the center of the room, behind them a heavy pine dining table where we often sat to play games. A painted wooden toilet seat cover attached to the wall held a small table lamp made to look like a woman’s leg in a fishnet stocking. The room was corny and welcoming, comfortable and rustic, and I absolutely loved it.
The butter started to sizzle in the skillet and I breathed in the delicious scent. Aiden appeared, his hand on my waist, and peered into the pan. “Mmmm, smells good.” He kissed me on the cheek and gave me a squeeze, then headed up the stairs like I’d told him to. The loft was one big bedroom with a pointed ceiling and a picture window looking out over the water. A king sized bed sat under the window, flanked on either side by a double bed and two twin beds tucked under the eaves.
I added sausage and potatoes to the skillet and grated the cheese, humming to myself. I barely heard Aiden come up behind me, his footsteps were so light coming down the stairs. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and pressed his face into my hair.
“Breakfast is not the only thing that smells delicious,” he purred softly in my ear. I smiled dreamily and pressed my bottom against him, wiggling it against his sporran. “Hey now, careful. That’ll get you into trouble,” he warned, his voice a deep rumble.
I grinned up at him, my eyes daring him to prove it. “Don’t be making threats you aren’t willing to carry out,” I countered. I squeaked in surprise as he whipped me around and kissed me hard, his body pressed tight against me. His hand slid down my back and grabbed my butt, and I caught my breath in surprise at his aggressiveness. I wiggled my eyebrows at him suggestively, checking to see if he was really serious this time. His face told me that he might just be. My heart leapt in my chest as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with everything I had. The smell of the scorching butter reached my nose and I jerked away from him.