by Laura Kirwan
Meaghan nodded. She pulled out the notebooks. “Take the table. I’ll use the window seat.”
Meaghan moved to the window seat. She organized the journals by date, opened the earliest one, and started reading.
Chapter 23
Meaghan read all day. Russ brought up sandwiches around noon, and tea and snacks throughout the day. Melanie worked quietly at the table, organizing files and writing up an index.
After having to get up for the second time to fetch a tissue to blow her nose, Meaghan brought the box back from the bathroom with her. Every couple of pages, she read something that made her tear up.
Like the entry from October 20, 1980:
Back from Arizona. Meg wouldn’t see me or even talk to me on the phone. Liz won’t talk to me either. We had to do it all through her lawyer. But at this point I’ll take what I can get. I wish I could tell Meg and Russ about my life, about the reality of the world we live in. But after how Liz reacted, I know I can’t. Not yet.
Russ was the only one happy I was there. He accepted all my bullshit without question, even if I could tell he didn’t believe it. But Liz only gave me an hour with him, and I could only see him with a court-appointed babysitter there to make sure I didn’t say or do anything crazy. So bullshit it had to be.
Russ knows I’m hiding something. I don’t know what Meg suspects. She’s a smart girl, too smart for her own good in some ways, and sensitive. I do know she hates me. For good reason and I don’t know how to fix it, and if she hates me now, what’s it going to be like if she gets stuck with this whole mess? If the trait is genetic—I only hope I can find somebody else to take the job or I can somehow mend the distance between us enough so I have time to prepare her. Nobody should have to walk into something like this cold. If only I’d met Vivian sooner, if Lou had found me sooner, maybe I wouldn’t have scared my family away.
Melanie had been right. The world of her childhood wasn’t what she thought it was. The names and details of the species Matthew had worked with were a jumble—she’d have to go back and do some indexing of her own, and she still hadn’t found anything about the war her mother and Natalie had mentioned. But what did come through, with aching clarity, was her father’s loneliness. With the exception of Vivian, Natalie’s mother, Matthew had, as he called it in his letter to Meaghan, “lone wolfed” it. While he grieved for his lost family.
No wonder he was so eager to step in and raise Jamie.
But that was still years away. The Matthew who wrote these early journals was barely sober, lonely, and full of self-loathing and regret. How had she never seen that in him? Because she refused to look, she realized. She buried her pain—her standard coping mechanism—and cut herself off from her childhood. She moved on. She’d have left Russ behind too, after Mom died, if he hadn’t fought to keep her from slipping away.
He’d done the same thing with Matthew. After Meaghan had given up on their father, Russ kept in touch by letter. Somehow, after Matthew’s visit, fourteen-year-old Russ had gotten himself a post office box and been clever enough to hide the letters from their mother. Russ hadn’t waited to restore contact until after Elizabeth died. There was nothing to restore because he’d never really lost contact in the first place.
Around four o’clock, she finished reading the journals from the seventies and early eighties, and decided she’d had enough for the day. Her head hurt and her eyes burned from all the crying.
But the fear was gone. Melanie was right. Meaghan was handling the shock of Monday remarkably well. For all her fear that she’d never measure up to her father, she realized now that she owned deep inside herself a clear-eyed strength that even he lacked. He had questioned things he’d experienced in a way Meaghan hadn’t. He struggled for years to let go of long-held beliefs despite being surrounded by evidence to the contrary.
Meaghan had yelled at her brother, cried a lot, and dog paddled in denial for a few days. The most self-destructive things she had done in the past week were drinking a few extra glasses of wine with dinner and watching too much bad TV.
She had always been pragmatic and unsentimental, but even she was surprised at the ease with which she’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Or maybe going through the looking glass was the better analogy. Everything—with a few striking size, color, and anatomical variances—looked about the same as it had before.
Some fantasy world.
“Melanie,” Meaghan said. “I’m tapped. No more reading for me today. Let’s go get a glass of wine. Or whatever you like to drink. You staying for dinner?”
Melanie set down her pen and surveyed the now tidy piles of paper surrounding her. “Wine is good. Bourbon is better. And dinner would be wonderful. Your brother is one of the best cooks in all the worlds.”
“You know you can’t live in Arizona as long as I did without developing a taste for good margaritas. What’s the Troon stance on tequila?”
“Olé,” Melanie said with a wink.
“Let’s see if Chef Russ has the ingredients.” Meaghan stood, stretching and yawning. “My brain hurts.”
She paused a moment, staring at Melanie. Meaghan was about to mix up a blender full of ‘ritas for a blue-skinned hermaphrodite from another dimension. Or was it a different planet? She wasn’t sure which. And it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. “I really am taking this well.”
Melanie nodded. “Yes. You are. Let’s see if Russ can make us some nachos to go with those drinks. And we need salt. I can’t abide a margarita without salt.”
Russ—assuming that Melanie would be joining them for dinner, along with Sid, Wally, and Natalie, who was their last gossip stop of the day—had already begun his dinner preparations.
“I also invited Jamie and Patrice and the kids if that’s okay. I thought we could do burgers on the grill. It’s really nice out there.” He gave Meaghan a cautious look. “You okay with so much company?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “Sounds fun. I could use some fun.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. “How did you get a post office box at fourteen?”
Russ laughed. “Crap. There goes another family secret.”
She stepped back. “Where’s Dad?”
Russ’s eyes widened in surprise. Meaghan always called their father by his first name. “On the front porch, I think.”
“I’ll go check on him, then I promised Melanie a genuine Arizona margarita if you’ve got the stuff.”
Russ nodded. “Might have to improvise a little, but it’s doable.”
“She wants nachos too,” Meaghan called over her shoulder as she walked down the hall.
On the porch, she found Matthew dozing in one of the wicker chairs. She sat on the settee and looked at him, really looked for once. A wave of tenderness broke over her and she felt her eyes fill again. He was so frail. But, she hoped, no longer alone. She couldn’t bear the thought that he still carried that loneliness within him.
Meaghan knew about lonely. She’d lived the last ten years there. It occurred to her, watching her father sleep, that the man who had written the journals she had just read had been several years younger than she was now.
Please, let him recognize me, she thought. After a few moments, his eyes fluttered open.
“Meg?” he said, still groggy. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”
She smiled. At last. “I live here. With you and Russ. I’m doing your old job.”
He looked cautious. “Which job is that?”
“City solicitor. And,” she added, hoping she wasn’t going to trigger any odd behavior, “the other job.”
Matthew’s eyes widened. “Russ?” he shouted. “Would you come out here?”
“I’ll get him,” she said, but Russ must have been waiting right inside the screen door because he was there before she could stand up.
“Russ, does Meg know about . . . you know?” He whispered the last two words.
“She knows, Dad. She saw Jamie change. She’s been read
ing your journals. I gave her the boxes of files you put together for her.”
“And she’s still here?” Matthew asked out of the side of his mouth.
“Yes, Daddy. I’m still here. No more secrets.”
Matthew sighed. “Well, that’s a goddamn relief. How long you been here?”
“Almost two weeks.”
“Where you been hiding?” he asked. “Or have I been . . . fuzzy?”
Russ reached down and squeezed his shoulder. “Fuzzy, Dad.” He gave Meaghan a meaningful glance, and then turned and went back into the house. This must be one of those almost lucid spells Russ had mentioned.
Matthew looked up at Meaghan and smiled. “So you live here? That’s great. Both my kids home at last.”
Meaghan leaned forward and took his hand. “Yes, Dad. Home at last.”
“Did Russ say you’d seen Jamie change? Did you see him fly? Helluva thing. You should see them when you’re their size.” He shook his head. “Fairies,” he spat. “People are so damn stupid. How they got fairies out of those brutal unwashed bastards is beyond me.”
“Jamie said the same thing.”
“He back to normal? Why’d he take the stone off?”
“Emily Proctor ripped it off his neck during our first meeting and ran down to her office with it. But I got it back and we got it on him. He’s fine now. He’s coming over for dinner.”
“The little shit’s a prince, you know,” Matthew said with a proud smile.
“I know, Dad,” Meaghan said.
Matthew yawned. “That was a good nap.” He stared at her, a furrow in his heavy brow. “I wish we had more time, but I’ll probably get fuzzy again. Don’t let that bitch Emily push you around. She scared of you?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good girl. Keep her that way.” He yawned again. “Don’t think I’m done sleeping.” His eyes fluttered shut and then he opened them with effort. “Wake me up for dinner. Keep Vivian close. She’ll take good care of you like she took care of me.”
And he was asleep again. Meaghan wondered who he’d be when he woke up.
Chapter 24
The margaritas were a hit even if they weren’t quite what Meaghan was used to. They had to replace her favorite prickly pear syrup with some of John’s honey, which, she had to admit, made them even better. She, Russ, and Melanie had a nice mellow glow by the time the rest of the dinner guests arrived.
When Jamie walked in laden with a diaper bag and a giant tossed salad, Meaghan couldn’t resist giving him a hug.
“What’s that for?” he asked, grinning.
“I’ve been looking at some old pictures. Looks like we’re family.”
Jamie grimaced. “You didn’t see the really old ones, did you? With the hair?”
Meaghan chuckled. “The hair and the dirt. You weren’t kidding about that. Don’t regrow the dreadlocks, okay?”
“No worries there. I get cranky if it’s touching my collar.”
A small girl ran into the kitchen. She was wearing a purple-and-orange striped polo shirt, a blue-and-yellow flowered skirt, and red cowboy boots. Her curly red hair spilled off her head in a tangled cascade to her shoulders. She stopped short when she saw Meaghan.
“I don’t know you,” she said to Meaghan. “Are you a stranger?”
“I don’t think so. I’m Meaghan. I live here. I’m Russ’s big sister.”
The child perked up. “I’m a big sister too.”
“Are you Liddy?” Meaghan asked. “Are you Ben’s big sister?”
Liddy looked cautious again. “How do you know me?”
“I work with your daddy.”
She thought about it a moment. “Like Natalie?”
“Like Natalie.”
“Well, that’s okay then,” Liddy said. She did a twirl. “Do you like my outfit? I picked it out all by myself.”
Meaghan smiled at her. “I’m sure you did. Very nice.”
Liddy nodded. “Daddy, is Melanie here?” she asked Jamie.
“What do you say to Meaghan for complimenting you?”
Liddy sighed dramatically. “Thank you, Meaghan.”
“You’re welcome, Liddy.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “So gracious.”
“Melanie’s in the living room,” Meaghan said.
Liddy ran down the hall.
“She loves Melanie,” Jamie said. He set the salad bowl on the counter. “So I hear you’ve met the Troon.”
Meaghan nodded. “It’s been an interesting day. You and Natalie will be relieved to know that I’m finally coping.”
“Good,” he said, eyeing her like she might explode. “And how’s that going?”
“Better than I expected. I want to meet your other kid. Do you and Patrice want a margarita?”
Jamie nodded. “God, yes.”
More margaritas emerged from the blender. The burgers were great. Matthew appeared lucid, although he continued to act with happy surprise every time he saw Meaghan, and kept calling Natalie “Vivian.” The kids crawled all over him and Meaghan heard him call the baby “Russ” on several occasions. Still, he seemed to be content and enjoying himself.
And, boy, did he love Jamie. Matthew beamed with pride at the sight of him. Meaghan felt the last dregs of her resentment melt away. It was clear to her that Matthew hadn’t been lonely for a long time, and much of that was due to Jamie. Despite her sadness for all the lost time, the jealousy was gone, replaced with gratitude that her father hadn’t spent that time alone.
Over dinner, Meaghan tried to get to know Jamie and Patrice better. The dynamic was becoming familiar to her. It was a slightly different take on the oddness she’d felt when asking Melanie to stay for dinner. Then she’d been struck about how normal the conversation sounded despite Melanie’s obvious physical differences.
Sitting in the backyard with Jamie and Patrice asking about their children looked like a normal conversation, but the things being discussed shoved the whole thing off the deep end. Like trying to find a tactful way to ask the young parents if their children were completely human.
Patrice divined right away what Meaghan was trying to ask. “When I got pregnant with Liddy, we checked it out. We did a lot of ultrasounds with a local doc who’s clued in. To make sure, we had an amnio done. Completely normal human DNA.”
Jamie jumped in. “Natalie assured us the amulet makes me human. It doesn’t only change my appearance. But . . . well. Better to make sure.”
Meaghan nodded. She spared them having to explain what they would have done if Liddy had wings or extra vocal cords. Or if she were only a few inches tall.
“So,” she asked Patrice, “what does your family think of all this?”
Patrice shrugged. “Don’t have any other family as far as I know. I was raised in the foster care system. Down in Harrisburg.”
Meaghan blushed, embarrassed. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Patrice shook her head. “Don’t be. I did okay. I don’t have any foster care horror stories. I had good placements. I got bumped around enough that I didn’t really settle in with any one family, but I liked most of them. I still send Christmas cards to a few. And it’s certainly made all this easier. I’m not sure how we’d explain Jamie to the in-laws if he had any.”
“Just a normal all-American guy,” Jamie said, with a big cheesy grin.
Patrice smacked him gently on the cheek. “Smart ass. It’s what made us so close so fast. We both understood what it was to feel different. To not have a so-called normal childhood.”
Fascinated, Meaghan pressed tactfully for details.
Jamie had told Patrice only days after they met about his “condition,” as he called it. “I knew the moment I met her she was the one,” Jamie said. “I almost dropped to one knee and proposed right there.”
“You did look kind of dazed,” Patrice said. “Like Cupid hit you with a shovel instead of an arrow.”
“So how do you have that conversation?” Meaghan asked. “�
�Hey baby, wanna see my wings?’”
Patrice snorted with laughter. “He wasn’t that smooth.”
“He didn’t just rip the amulet off, did he?”
Patrice shook her head. “No. Natalie was there to help him.”
“Natalie?” Meaghan asked.
“Yeah,” Jamie said. “She followed me to college and law school. The amulet needs the occasional tune-up. The closer she is, the easier it is to sense if something’s going wrong. ”
“We met in Philly. I was finishing up my nursing degree. He was in law school. I thought Natalie was an ex who didn’t want to let go. It was kind of a relief to discover she was actually his magical babysitter.”
“That’s relief?” Meaghan asked and laughed.
“Well, it took me a little while to get there.”
“Before things went any further,” Jamie broke in, “I thought she should meet little Jamie—”
Patrice raised an eyebrow.
“Not that little Jamie,” he muttered, blushing.
Meaghan thought of him naked and blushed too. Little was really the wrong word. “Moving on,” she said.
Patrice laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that bordered on salacious.
“But,” Meaghan said, eager to change the subject. “How did that work? You were totally nuts when it happened last week.”
“Part of that was the city hall effect,” Jamie said. “Magnifying the magic. And I didn’t have time to prepare. My control is much better if I have time to center myself first. And Natalie built a magical . . . cage, I guess, before I changed so I couldn’t take off and so she could get the amulet back on.”
“Without a Taser?” Meaghan asked.
“Without a Taser. Thank God. I felt wrong for a couple of days after that.”
Meaghan had much less success chatting up Natalie. She wanted to talk to Natalie about the Order and the other force she’d sensed, but Natalie didn’t give her the chance. She dodged Meaghan whenever she got within speaking distance.
Natalie didn’t seem to welcome the news that Meaghan had started working through Matthew’s journals and files. Every time Matthew called her Vivian, she started and looked guilty for a moment. And Meaghan caught Natalie and Russ exchanging a couple of meaningful glances.