Miranda: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  “Sorry…” I told her. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I desperately needed coffee, and this thing apparently wasn’t built for stealth.”

  “It’s okay, me too,” she said. “Is it ready then?”

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “Finally. You’d think since it only holds two or three cups it’d work a little faster.”

  I filled the mug I was already holding and then set it to the side in front of the microwave as I said, “There you go.”

  Knowing she would want to doctor the brew as usual, I pushed a cellophane-wrapped packet of sugar and creamer over next to it. Then I grabbed a fresh cup from the small tray and tossed its packet of the same on top of the first. After inspecting the inside of the empty mug out of habit and finding it clean, I poured some coffee for myself.

  Felicity let go of me then stepped over to her cup. She immediately began tearing open the thin plastic wrapper on the drink condiments, biting the sealed edge to get it started then ripping it lengthwise with her nails.

  “I should have just had you bring it to me in bed then,” she announced with a slight chuckle.

  I cocked an eyebrow as I looked at her and said, “That’s just one of your regular ‘dominant Irish Princess’ moods talking, I hope?”

  “Aye. It is.”

  “Good. That I can do.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a pained softness to her voice. “I’m not her. I’m me…”

  “I’m sorry hon. I didn’t mean… I just guess I’m a little gun-shy after…”

  “I know,” she said as my voice trailed off. Her tone was still hushed but now carried with it a note of sympathy. “It’s okay. I understand. I probably shouldn’t be bringing that sort of thing up right now anyway.”

  “Don’t worry about it. As long as it’s you, I’m all good with it.”

  I gave her shoulder a squeeze then turned and leaned back against the counter and watched as she emptied both powdered creamers and then all four packets of sugar into her cup. Once she finished mixing the concoction she quickly drew the plastic stirrer between her lips and then tossed it onto the counter.

  “So, how did you sleep?” she asked before taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Okay, I guess,” I replied with a shrug. “Not great by any stretch. But then I wasn’t expecting to come home just to end up staying in another hotel, so my whole system is a little off I think.”

  “Aye, I can imagine.” She shook her head as she continued, “But Ben was pretty insistent that we not stay at the house, and when you agreed… Well, I just wasn’t up to arguing.”

  “I think that’s a first for you, isn’t it?” I quipped.

  “Very funny,” she admonished, but her good humor was betrayed by a slight grin.

  I smiled. “Just making an observation. After all, you have to admit that you’re pretty stubborn.”

  “True.”

  “And, you were wound pretty tight last night too.”

  “At first, but I think I finally just crashed once you were here.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Been down that road.”

  “Well, in my defense I did make him take the dogs home with him, so they wouldn’t be left alone,” she countered.

  “Yes, you did do that,” I agreed. “I wonder how that’s working out?”

  “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “I’m not actually worried about them. I’m wondering about him.”

  “He’ll live,” she chuckled and then paused before lowering her voice to a more soothing timbre. “I know this wasn’t a very good homecoming, Rowan…”

  I sighed. “It’s not like it’s anything all that new, sweetheart…”

  “Well, I know it’s not exactly a silver lining, but you have to admit, this really is a nice suite we’re in.”

  “Yeah…it is…” I looked around and then added with more than a hint of sarcasm, “It has a really nice price tag too, which is coming out of our pockets.”

  “It’s not like we can’t afford it then.”

  “I know, but that’s not the point.”

  “Aye, I realize that, but at least we’re here together.”

  “True.” I smiled then leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before settling back against the counter once again. “So, what about you? How did you sleep in this nice suite?”

  “Honestly, not all that well.”

  I took a swig of my java then nodded. “Yeah, I thought that might be the case. I couldn’t help but notice you were tossing and turning most of the night.”

  After a thick pause she almost whispered, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

  “Yeah…not surprised…” I let out a sigh and then sipped my coffee for a moment. I wasn’t sure how to get around talking about what had happened, but I really didn’t want to go there. Finally, I offered a generic reply, “Don’t worry. Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” she mumbled.

  “I know…but soon.”

  She gave me a questioning look. “How will you be able to…”

  I had a fairly good notion I knew what she was about to ask, so I headed her off. “I wonder how long Ben is going to want us to stay away from the house?”

  Felicity cocked her head and stared at me, obviously nonplussed by my overt and unapologetic shift of subject. I could tell by her expression that she was trying to decide how to proceed with the conversation. I just hoped she didn’t try to push it back onto her original track.

  Finally, she said, “Well…if it’s going to be for very long I’ll be needing to go by the house for a few more things then. I didn’t pack much last night…or should I say, this morning.”

  “Same here,” I agreed.

  “And we’ll need to get someone to look after the cats,” she added. “A day or two is fine, but no longer than that.”

  “Yeah, true. We could probably get RJ to do that.”

  “Aye, maybe.”

  I shrugged and said, “Well, if we end up having to extend our stay, I guess we could just pretend it’s a vacation.”

  “We could,” Felicity said, nodding. “And since you mention it…”

  Even as she started to speak I remembered our conversation just prior to my leaving for Carswell. With everything that had happened in the past forty-eight hours, it had completely slipped my mind. Until now, that is.

  “Yeah… Yeah… I know,” I replied, shaking my head. “Vacation… I promised we’d get away and go to Ireland, didn’t I?”

  “You did…” she said. “And I’m holding you to it…”

  It was my own fault. I had managed to shove us directly into this topic with my offhand remark, and unfortunately, it required a response that wasn’t as far removed from the current situation as I would have liked. Having no choice, however, I started to appeal. “Felicity, honey, we will, I promise…but I’m not sure it would be a good idea for…”

  “Hold on then,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “Let me finish. I’ll be needing some time to clear my schedule, so it’s not like we can leave just yet anyway. But…I did go ahead and reserve our airline tickets for mid July.”

  I sighed and nodded. “Okay… Good. That’ll work. I’ve got to line up some time off myself. That should give me plenty of time.”

  “Aye. I thought as much,” she said with a nod.

  “How long am I taking off?”

  “Four weeks.”

  “Yeah…I think I can probably arrange that. I’ll just have to farm some stuff out.”

  “Me too,” she said. “Oh, and I also talked to Austin. He insists we stay with him for at least part of the trip.”

  “I’m good with that. But, are you really sure you want me hanging out in pubs with your brother?” I gibed.

  She shook her head and snorted. “Like it matters. I can drink the both of you under the table and you know it.”

  “You have a point.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Okay,” I said, f
eeling relieved that we’d managed to veer off the morbid path I’d inadvertently started us down. “So I guess if we’re staying here for a bit, we can just call this a pre-vacation warm-up.”

  Felicity leaned to one side in order to look around and past me. “Aye, well there’s a refrigerator behind you. If we’re going to pretend, then I’m thinking some Guinness is in order. And maybe a bottle of Black Bush, and a few other things as well.”

  “We can do that,” I said then drained my cup and turned toward the coffeemaker. “Need some more?” I asked as I took the small carafe in hand and glanced back at her over my shoulder.

  “Is there any more sugar?”

  I twisted my head back around and looked on the tray where the glasses and mugs were arranged but came up empty.

  Looking back at her, I shook my head. “Afraid not.”

  “We’ll have to fix that too,” she announced as she held her cup toward me. “Just a little then.”

  I slowly added some of the hot java to her mug and then emptied the remaining contents of the carafe into my own. Once I’d placed the vessel back onto the base and switched it off, we continued to stand in the kitchenette-like alcove. An awkward quiet welled up between us to fill the room. The vacation talk had apparently played itself out, and that didn’t bode well for keeping the subject off last night’s events.

  I wasn’t absolutely certain what my wife was thinking about, but I had a good idea. And I was crystal clear on what was occupying my own brain. Unfortunately, it was a sure bet we were both back on the same page, which is exactly where I didn’t want to be. The problem was, I couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t just be another obviously heavy-handed attempt at a verbal diversion.

  Felicity cleared her throat then took a sip of her coffee, all the while keeping her jade green eyes fixed firmly on my face over the rim of the cup. A few seconds stretched into several and then eventually folded themselves into a minute plus. Finally, she spoke.

  “How’s your head?” she asked.

  Apparently, my assumption was correct, and we were going back to square one. She was just going to take a different approach.

  I looked at her and shrugged. “Fine.”

  “No headache?”

  “Nope.”

  “And nothing else either?”

  I kept my mouth shut and simply shook my head.

  She regarded me quietly for a moment, waiting for me to expand on the answer. When I didn’t, she pressed forward. “So first you changed the subject, now you’re playing mute,” she began. “Would you mind telling me what we are going to do with this gorilla in the corner? Do we just keep ignoring it then?”

  “I take it you mean the voices…” I grumbled. “Or, lack thereof, I guess.”

  She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Aye, Rowan, for a start. Although we both know there’s more you’re not saying.”

  I exhaled heavily myself and then turned up my mug and drained what was left of my now lukewarm coffee. After setting the empty cup aside, I shrugged and said, “I don’t think we’ve really ignored it. We just haven’t fed it, so to speak.”

  “Cac capaill,” she spat. “Be honest, Row… You’re avoiding it like the damn plague and you know it.”

  I shrugged. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “A little?” she yelped.

  “All right… Fine… More than a little,” I admitted as I pushed off from the counter and walked out into the bedroom area. I knew I couldn’t escape, but I didn’t want to fight with her, and that’s probably where this was heading.

  She was right behind me. “And you call me stubborn,” she snapped. “What’s going on? Why are you avoiding this?”

  “Because I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, I think maybe it’s time you did.”

  “What for?”

  “Because, obviously it’s bothering you.”

  I turned around and looked at her. “Well hell yes, it’s bothering me. Is it not supposed to?”

  She stared back and chewed her lower lip for a moment then shrugged and said, “And?”

  “And what?” I asked.

  She bobbed her head and pressed, “What else then?”

  “And it bothers me. What more do you want me to say?”

  “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

  “Nothing.”

  “I know better.”

  “Well, it’s not something for you to worry about,” I told her.

  “Cac capaill. No. I’m not letting you do this. I want you to tell me,” she demanded.

  “Not happening.”

  “All right then, if you won’t tell me what you’re hiding, then tell me why not hearing the voices bothers you so much.”

  “Because I’m sick of being screwed with by Miranda.”

  “What else?”

  “What do you mean, what else?”

  “I mean that’s not all. What else?”

  “Come on, Felicity,” I barked. “I’m pretty sure you already know the answer to that.”

  “Aye, I do. But you need to say it.”

  I shook my head at her. “What the hell for?

  “So that you can face it.”

  “Good Gods, honey… Have you been taking psychiatrist lessons from Helen or something?”

  “Would you rather talk to her about this? I’m sure she would fit you in today.”

  “I’m not in a hurry to talk to anyone about it,” I snapped and then announced, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a shower.”

  I made a move to step past her in my bid to seek temporary refuge in the bathroom. However, my wife wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She mirrored my movement and placed her hand against my chest to stop me.

  “You aren’t walking away from me, Rowan,” she said.

  “I’m not talking about this anymore,” I replied, my voice tense.

  I began to move again, but she still wouldn’t give up. However, instead of simply continuing the argument, she let out a low shriek then launched herself forward and pushed me. Caught completely off-guard, I tried in vain to retreat as her palms struck hard against my chest, but there was no place for me to go. The bed was immediately behind me, and between my clumsy footing and the force she applied, I stumbled. I attempted to sidestep in order to regain my balance, but Felicity angled in and hooked her leg behind mine while continuing to drive forward. I collapsed backward onto the bed, with her on top of me.

  In a flash, my fiery, redheaded wife had scrambled upward and was sitting on my stomach with her knees pressing down across my arms right at the elbow. Her hands were gripping tight around my wrists and she was pitched forward, holding me down with everything her petite frame had to give.

  Her face was just inches from mine when she snarled, “Damn your eyes, Rowan Linden Gant! Damn your eyes!”

  “Dammit, Felicity!” I barked as I struggled. “What the hell?!”

  “You’re not doing this. You’re going to talk to me,” she hissed, clamping her thighs tight on my ribcage to keep me from wriggling free.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” I snipped.

  She blasted back with a quick retort. “That’s not what this is about. Talk to me, damnú ort!”

  I knew I could probably escape her hold, but it would involve someone getting hurt, and that someone wasn’t me. I was also well aware that this was still my wife on top of me, not Miranda using her body, and the last thing I wanted was to injure her. Given the leverage she had, I eventually just gave in and conceded the battle. Felicity, however, didn’t release her hold on me, even after I relaxed.

  I sighed and simply lay there looking up into her imploring eyes. Finally, I said, “I don’t want to talk about this because I’m afraid. There. I said it.”

  “Aye…” she whispered. “I know. And that’s why you have to talk about it. Tell me why.”

  She definitely wasn’t going to give up, but then, I knew better than to believe she would. I’d told h
er the truth because lying to her would get me nowhere. But, I also hadn’t told her all of it, and she obviously knew that. How much of it I could continue to keep a secret remained to be seen.

  The hollowness of fear started pooling in my chest as my emotions took over.

  “She’s blinded me, honey… I can’t feel anything…”

  “I know…”

  “Felicity… If I can’t…” I stammered and then stopped as my throat tightened, causing me to choke on the words. Gathering myself, I started again. “If I can’t feel her coming then I might not be able to stop her. And if I can’t… If I can’t stop her then I could lose you.”

  “You won’t,” she murmured. “I promise.”

  “You can’t…”

  “Sshhhh…” she hushed. “You won’t.”

  I wanted nothing more than to believe her words, but what I had kept secret wouldn’t let me. I finally felt her vise-like grip on my ribcage begin to relax as she laid forward and slowly pressed herself against me. Apparently, I’d satisfied enough of her demand for the moment.

  Once again I’d told only part of the truth, keeping hidden from her that which was already too painful for me. The image of her wasting away in that cold vision was something I felt I simply could not allow her to know.

  When she released my arms I slid them around her and held tight. I’m certain we would have stayed in that position for the rest of the day had the room phone not begun to ring less than five minutes later.

  “Do we have to answer it then?” Felicity asked.

  “No,” I said, hugging her close.

  The peal of the phone stopped after the fourth ring. Half a minute later, my cell phone began to rattle and warble out the William Tell Overture as it vibrated across the surface of the desk on the other side of the room.

  My wife issued a resigned sigh. “It must be Ben…”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s his ring tone.”

  “You’d best answer it then.”

  “I know…” I sighed. “I know.”

  We disentangled ourselves, and I slowly sat up on the edge of the bed. My cell had already sent the call to voicemail and fallen into silence. Before I could stand up, however, the room phone began to ring once again. I shifted left then reached across Felicity’s legs and snatched the handset from the cradle.