by Julia Mills
Suddenly swamped with guilt at having a good time while her mom was laying just a few rooms away, hooked up to machines that fed her, breathed for her, and kept her heart beating, Mimi’s head fell forward, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. Refusing to cry one more time that day, she took a deep breath and lifted her head just as Lillie confidently stated, “You need to laugh, to have fun, to have a life. It’s what your mom wants.” Pulling a chair closer, the nurse sat down and laid her hand over Mimi’s, only going on when the younger woman looked her in the eye. “You know you’re never gonna hear the end of it when she wakes up. She’s gonna scold your butt good about wasting all your time taking care of her.”
Pushing away the grief filling her heart, Mimi agreed with a shaky grin, “You know that’s right.” She chuckled, the sound weak even to her own ears as she added, “And then she’ll ask when I’m gonna settle down and give her grandbabies.”
“Good. Now that that’s settled,” Lillie stood up and pointed, “eat your dinner before it gets cold. I’ll go check on your mom.” Looking at her watch, the nurse smiled. “She’ll be wanting me to read to her. We’re just about to find out who dunnit.” She shook her head. “I swore she would never get me hooked on murder mysteries, that I was a die-hard romance reader, but dammit, if she hasn’t gone and made me like ‘em.”
Kissing Mimi on the head one more time, the nurse exited the room, leaving the younger woman alone with dinner and her thoughts. As they always did in the few quiet moments she got, memories of happier times came flooding back.
She could feel the wind on her face, hear the whoosh of the breeze as her dad pushed her higher and higher on her favorite swing at their neighborhood park. The sweetness of the grapes she’d hidden in her jacket pocket, the smell of the wildflowers, the image of her mom spreading out the blanket for their picnic…every detail of that perfect day came rushing back. There were so many, but this one took precedence, would always be the most special, forever in her heart, for it was the last one.
From one heartbeat to the next, the sun was replaced with darkness, the smiles bled into tears, and flashing lights filled their once happy home as a knock echoed through the stillness of the night. The words replayed in her a mind, a haunting account of the night Mimi’s perfect little world came to a screeching halt.
“Mrs. Havers?” The policeman’s voice was low and foreboding.
“Yes?” Robin answered, the fear in her voice palpable.
“I regret to inform you that at nine-forty-five this evening there was a two-car collision on the I-95 offramp resulting in…”
Drowned out by her mother’s wails of disbelief and heartbreaking sobs of sorrow, Mimi couldn’t hear the rest, just knew, in the deep recesses of her six-year old mind, could feel it in every beat of her heart – that Daddy was gone. The next few days were a whirlwind. People came in and out of their house, bringing food and flowers, hugging her, telling her everything would be all right.
But it was all a lie… Absolutely nothing was ever the same again…
Shaking her head, refusing to relive what came next and her stomach revolting at the idea of eating another bite after her trip down Memory Lane, Mimi opened the paper Lillian had left on the table. Reading the smaller headline just under the fold on the front page, she groaned, “Oh great, a total lunar eclipse. All the crazies will be out. Whoopee for me.”
When she was in medical school, pursuing her chosen profession as a psychiatrist, Mimi would’ve never thought the day would come when she believed in old wives’ tales and things like the phases of the moon or the barometric pressure affecting people’s behavior. However, since she’d accepted her position at the State Prison, her skepticism had been disproven time and time again by first-hand experience, making her take notice to any changes in the atmosphere.
“Maybe I should call out of work this weekend,” she mused, flipping the large pages of newsprint until she found the comics and laid the paper beside her plate.
Picking up her fork, knowing she needed to eat something or she’d be laying right next to her mom and no help to anyone, Mimi took a bite, grinning at the puns and jokes as she ate the wonderful meal Lillian had prepared. Shocking herself by finishing every bite, Mimi put her dishes in the dishwasher, left the kitchen, and made her way quickly down the hall. Entering her room, she changed clothes, picked up the case files she’d brought home from the office off the table in the foyer, and walked to her mother’s room.
Standing in the doorway, listening as Lillie finished another chapter of JD Robb’s latest mystery thriller, Mimi steeled her nerves and plastered on a smile before commenting, “I could listen to you read for hours, Lillie. Your voice is so soothing and calming.”
“These old pipes?” The retired nurse chuckled, closing the book and standing up. “They’ve had a lot of practice over the years.” Leaning down, she kissed Robin on the cheek before whispering, “Sleep well, but not for too long. It’s ‘bout time for you to wake up. Enough of this lollygagging around.” Standing up straight, she added, “I’ll see you in the morning.” Then turning toward Mimi, the nurse walked toward the door, patted the younger woman’s arm and with a wink, lovingly ordered, “You get some rest, young lady. You can’t save the whole world in a single day.”
Nodding, Mimi snickered, “I’m only gonna read up on my new admits for tomorrow. I won’t be long.”
“See that you’re not,” Lillie called over her shoulder, disappearing into her room at the opposite end of the hall.
Taking a seat in the antique wooden rocking chair that had been beside her mother’s bed for as long as Mimi could remember, she thread her fingers through Robin’s. Taking in her mother’s gaunt, unmoving digits, the skin so thin and sallow it resembled wax paper, Mimi ignored all her training, not wanting to analyze the truth of the situation, and prayed for the day Robin would open her eyes. The young psychiatrist thought about how those same hands had felt her forehead for fevers, made absolutely scrumptious peanut butter and honey sandwiches, and had been able to braid Mimi’s long, caramel locks while answering the phone, cooking breakfast, and getting herself ready for work.
Laying her cheek on their joined hands, Mimi whispered, “Please, please wake up, or squeeze my hand or…hell, twitch your finger. Just don’t leave me alone. I couldn’t bear it.”
After almost thirty minutes, Mimi sat up and wiped her tears. Scooting back, she pulled the empty TV table sitting in the corner in front of her chair and opened her first file. Hours later with her aching eyes seeing double and a throbbing headache, she kissed her mother goodnight, shuffled to her room, and tumbled into bed.
Falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, Mimi’s dreams came quickly, featuring one of her favorite fairy tales…
Wearing a long, pink dress, dancing with the most handsome man at the ball, who was dressed as if he’d walked straight off an Arthurian movie set, Mimi laughed and chatted without a care in the world.
The scene was all so very magical. Swirling red carpeted staircases cascaded down the far walls, joining in the center to create the perfect entryway onto the gleaming white marble floor, the focal point of the party. Flowers of every color and description with matching ribbons adorned the marble columns, standing like soldiers on either side of the ballroom with food and drink laden tables between them, while candlelight shimmered off the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling like diamonds in the sky, adding to the opulence and perfection of the dream.
Spinning around the room, dancing to the music of a stringed quartet, the heat of her companion’s arm around her waist fed the smoldering fire burning deep within her soul. Goose bumps dotted her skin as a cool breeze skittered over her bare shoulders and the scent of fresh flowers filled her senses.
Following Prince Charming’s lead, Mimi slowed her steps, standing perfectly still beside the stone railing of a balcony overlooking a beautiful garden. Gazing into the deep blue of his eyes, struck speechless by the electricity of their attr
action, Mimi was helpless but to sigh as he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her passionately while the music took on a seductive swing behind them.
Kissing across her jaw, making his way to her ear, her Prince whispered, “Myanna, my love, you take my breath away. Make me the happiest man in the world and run away with me. Say you’ll be mine forever more.”
“Oh, Banning,” she sighed, her fingers winding through the long waves of his sandy-blonde hair. “I want nothing more than to live in your arms forever.”
Unfortunately, whatever Prince Charming said next was drowned out by the most irritatingly loud, squawking sound. Rolling over, slapping the wood of her bedside table, the palm of Mimi’s hand finally found the alarm clock, giving the blasted thing an extra swat for disturbing her fantasy.
“It cannot be morning already,” she groaned, her head still under the mauve flowered comforter she’d had forever and a day.
“Oh yes, it is,” Lillian sing-songed as she passed Mimi’s open door. “And if you don’t get up and get dressed, your breakfast will be cold.”
Shoving down the covers and sitting up as she threw her feet over the side of her bed, Mimi rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slid on her slippers. Padding to the bathroom, visions of her dreams from the previous night danced through her mind.
Turning on the water for her shower, the young psychiatrist snickered, “Not only am I making wishes to dragons and throwing coins into fountains,” she looked in the mirror, surprised to see herself smiling and laughingly added, “I’m also dreaming of being a princess with my very own Prince Charming.” Shaking her head, she laughed aloud, “Old Professor Donnelly would say, ‘Physician heal thyself’. To which I would remind him, ‘A patient has to want to get better’.”
Leaning forward, her nose nearly touching the glass of the mirror, Mimi looked herself in the eye and winked, “And this patient, Dr. Donnelly, has decided her dream world beats the hell outta reality.”
Chapter Three
Over and over, he replayed every detail of his plan, nearly going out of his mind at the snail’s pace of the ticking clock in his head. The last three days felt like a lifetime and the hours leading up to nightfall an eternity. Waiting for the earth to eclipse the moon and trigger the magic that would change him from a mere statue to a living, breathing human relentlessly tugged at the raveling threads of Banning’s diminishing sanity.
Ready to enact his plan, needing to save the beautiful woman’s mother, needing to be her knight in shining armor, the Guardsman once again reviewed how he would prevail where modern medicine had failed. He had a renewed purpose. Meaning had blessedly returned to his sad, lonely life. The dragon finally understood the true objective of his existence…to preserve life, to protect any and all that he could.
Memories, like a kaleidoscope, whirled through Banning’s thoughts. He saw his father sitting on the banks of the cool, clear water of the river behind their house. He watched the man he looked up to, his very own hero, as the water flowed in front of them, splashing on the rocks, flowing through the trees, dragging the hook at the end of the pole in his hand along with it.
His voice, low and commanding, spoke to the very heart and soul of his only son, the heir to the throne of their Clan, as he instructed the young dragon in the ways of their kin.
“Your battles will be many. You will see your brethren fall. At times, it will feel as if the Universe is asking too much of you.” Ailbe propped his fishing pole into the soft ground and turned toward his son. “The day will come, Banning, my boy, much sooner than you realize, when you will take up your blade and defend not only our kin, but every other of the Universe’s creations. We were created in Her image, named the Mighty Winged Warriors, and tasked with the preservation of all, especially the humans, for they have not the magic nor the abilities we possess.”
“But, Athair, I want to fight evil.” The young dragon jumped to his feet. “Leave the protection of others to those not willing to give their lives in battle.”
Shaking his head, Ailbe sighed, “Son, have you heard nothing?” The Dragon King stood, a seven-foot giant to his young son, and picking up the child, looked directly into his soul. “Protection is our primary focus. Without it, evil will overrun the lands, taint what is bright and beautiful, destroy the inherit good in all of God’s creatures and ultimately, annihilate the very Earth that has been given to us with all the love of our one true parent.”
“I see,” Banning whispered, nodding to his father. “To protect and defend life is more important than destroying evil, yes?”
Smiling brightly, his father emphatically agreed, “Yes, our Ancestors have taught us that every action, be it right or be it wrong, has an opposite and equal reaction. It is the ying and yang of life. Light cannot exist without darkness. Good would fail to be recognized without its evil counterpart. Without our females, we males, as well as all living beings, would become extinct. Do you understand, my son?”
“Yes,” Banning acknowledged, pushing against his father’s chest to be let down. Jumping up and down the moment his feet touched the ground, the young dragon beamed, “It is our purpose as dragons to feed the light of the world, defend its very existence, and if during that time we are forced into battle, then will be the time to defeat the forces of darkness.”
“Precisely, my brilliant son.” His father’s smile was a beacon of hope and love. “You will be a great leader of our people, Banning. A true inspiration for all.”
“If I had only remembered your words, Father. If only I had taken heed of your teachings.” The Guardsman sighed.
Holding his breath as his lips tingled and his muscles shuddered, the Guardsman’s eyes turned upward just in time to see the spectacular blue and green sphere creep across the moon’s surface, obscuring its awesome glow. Magic popped and cracked in the air around him, the witch’s mysticism springing to life. Gradually, inch by wretched inch, the bronze bled away, revealing the vibrant Guardsman within.
With each painstaking second his anticipation grew, his heart beat faster, and his dragon stretched his mighty wings. A reddish hue fell over the land, Goddess Helene’s silver orb was hidden behind the Earth, the Blood Moon hung low in the sky, and Banning was once again human.
Stretching his stiff muscles, filling his lungs with fresh, clean air, and bathing his senses in the smells of his surroundings, Banning thanked the Universe for the gift he’d been given. Looking at his surroundings, the Guardsman grinned, thankful the park closed at nine and the guards sat in their cubicles at the gates.
“I can only imagine their faces if they saw what I really was,” the dragon chuckled, the emotion and the action feeling foreign after nearly two-hundred years of self-loathing and recrimination.
He thought of the few occasions he’d been caught returning to his perch before the dawn, dread dogging his every step at the prospect of another long wait for a single night of freedom. Smiling at a fifty-year-old memory, the time he’d been accused of stealing the very statue he was about to become, Banning shrugged. He would never forget the look of shock on the constable’s face when he returned with an entire armed force of police to find the city’s beloved dragon in place, guarding their fountain with the handcuffs from ‘the thief’s’ wrists laying on the concrete.
“I guess it hasn’t been all bad.”
The thought of calling forth his dragon and taking to the skies crossed his mind more than once, but was quickly rejected every time. “I must conserve all my strength and magic for her mother.”
Following the trail of the young woman’s scent, the voice of his dragon chanting Mate through the connection they shared, Banning refused to acknowledge what he knew in his heart and soul to be true.
“I cannot…I will not let myself be distracted by flights of fancy. She is a truly good person who, through no fault of her own, is about to lose her last living relative.” He spoke aloud as he dashed into a back alley, keeping to the shadows as he voiced his thoughts. “It is just as Fat
her said. Her light is being extinguished by the darkness and it’s my job, nay, my duty, to do everything in my power to help her.”
“Mate,” the dragon repeated.
“That is not important, old friend. I gave up on that dream long ago.”
Passing the large plate-glass window of a men’s haberdashery, the sight of Banning’s reflection caused him to stop midstride. Turning toward the image, he couldn’t help but stare. Having not seen his own face but in the clear water of a river three days before being cursed, the Guardsman was shocked to see that exact same man staring back at him. It had never occurred to him that he would not age, that he was completely frozen in time, even still wearing the garments and cloak he’d worn on that fateful day all those years ago.
Looking farther into the shop, he saw mannequins dressed in the fashion of the day and snickered at the long pants, pearly white buttons, and silk wrapped around their necks. “How do they function in such things?” Shaking his head, he added, “It never ceases to amaze me what humans put themselves through to impress and attract a mate.”
Turning to leave, the Guardsman had barely made it a step before confusion coupled with a healthy dose of doubt stopped his forward motion. “What will she think of me, dressed as I am? Will she wonder of my sanity? Will she scream in fright?” His steps sped up, the need to complete his mission before sunrise powering his quickening stride as he added, “With any luck, if she should wake, I will use magic to make her think I am but a dream.”
Again, his dragon growled, this time with more force. “Mate.”
“Yes, I know,” Banning grumbled as he resumed his trek. “But our mission is not to impress or woe her, only to save her mother. Our fate was sealed centuries ago, old friend. We must give our mate what she needs most and pray that over time she finds a man worthy of her.”
“Mate,” the dragon’s rumble was ominous as he blew smoke from his snout and pushed his heavy body against the confines of Banning’s mind.