by Jane Stain
Their first slow dance was every bit as great as Emily had imagined it would be. When the fast music started up again, it was as if she were waking from a dream, but her prince was right there in front of her still. She smiled and led him back to the table.
Everyone whistled and clapped for them.
“Nice slow dance.”
The two of them bowed and smiled.
And then Emily took her phone out of her tiny little club purse and held it up to Dall, gesturing toward the restroom sign.
Dall nodded and started a conversation with Dylan.
Once Emily got close to the restroom sign, she was relieved to see a dark back hallway that had more doors than just for the restrooms. Acting tipsy, she opened the first door she came to. Oh, it was an office. Too risky. No telling what hours the business end of the place might keep. The next door was the men’s room, and she skipped that. Ew. Then the ladies’. Maybe. The fifth door was obviously an exit out into the back alley. Good. But she wanted to see what was behind door number 4.
Jackpot.
Door number 4 was a storage room, and she rushed inside and closed the door behind her. Using her phone as a flashlight, she worked her way around a huge fake Christmas tree into the far corner of the room. And there, she gleefully marked her first totally homemade destination in the Time Management app. She named it Brittany’s Club.
She was on her way out of the closet when its door opened. Fast as she could, she ran back behind the Christmas tree, where she stood panting, praying she wouldn’t be seen.
Whoever it was, they were persistent. They worked their way into the room and started parting the branches near her. And then they whispered, “Emily?” Whew. It was Dall.
Emily let out the breath she had been holding, and then she whispered, “I’m back here.”
Dall made his way to her, and they kissed for a while in the dark. Then he said softly, “Well lass, do you have it?”
Emily giggled a little. “Yep. Mission accomplished. We can go back out there now and dance some more.”
“Well, I was thinking we would go and visit with your parents, lass, and try to get even closer to them.”
“But what about Vange and Brittany and all them? And we have to be at festival in the morning. We can’t just…” But then it dawned on Emily. She nearly spoke out loud what they could do, but then she remembered the druids could hear.
Holding her phone so that Dall could see too, she kept the location the same but set the time as 8 am on Monday. She figured people who ran a club would sleep in way past that time, so the place should be empty. She looked at his face in the light of the phone, and he nodded, so she pushed the ‘go’ button.
When the world stopped swirling, it was still pretty dark in the storage room. But now the faintest bit of sunlight came in under the door, so they could see without the phone. Emily put it in her purse, and they stood and listened for a minute, but didn’t hear anything.
“Back door’s right there,” Emily whispered, pointing through the storage room door.
Dall nodded, and they tip toed to the storage room door. He put her behind him, and then he slowly opened it. The door creaked. They both winced and held still for a moment, listening for movement or voices.
9 MacGregors
Emily didn’t hear anything. She looked at Dall to see if he did.
He shook his head no, and then cautiously opened the storage room door into the dance club’s back hallway and slowly peeked out into the dim sunlight coming under the back door.
Creak. Creak creak creak creak creak.
On hearing this noise, Emily tried to pull Dall back into the storage room.
But his feet didn’t budge. With grace and control, her husband slowly leaned back while also closing the door so that it fastened silently. And then he turned to her and put his finger in front of his mouth. He took control. He was in charge.
She loved it. She felt cared for, and she felt some of the weight of the world lift off of her shoulders. He was sharing that weight. She carried some responsibility for the two of them, but he carried his share. It seemed like this was how it should be, because after all, she now carried his name.
They stood there a few minutes, and then repeated the whole scenario again, except this time he trusted her to keep quiet. They just waited, and they heard it again.
Creak. creak creak creak creak creak.
But this time, Emily realized what was making the creaking noise, and she sighed and relaxed. Then she whispered to Dall in Gaelic, “It’s a child upstairs, running around, probably inside his … home.” She didn’t know a Gaelic word for apartment, and she doubted there was one.
Dall listened for a moment, and then he sighed and relaxed, too, nodding yes. Whew, he agreed with her assessment. There was no danger in the creaking sound.
She whispered, “I don’t hear anything down here in the club, do you?”
He listened for another moment, and then he whispered, “Nay, lass. However, let us keep quiet on account of the lack of noise being no guarantee there is no one around.”
She nodded yes to show she agreed with his assessment.
He hugged her with the arm he had around her, and then he quietly opened the storage room door again. This time, they didn’t jump when they heard the creaking noise. They just calmly headed for where the sunlight came streaming in under the back door to the dance club.
It was one of those doors with a push-bar across the middle of it.
“This is going to be noisy,” Emily whispered.
Dall acknowledged her with a nod, and then he pushed on the bar and opened the back door into the alley behind the dance club.
The two of them rushed out and made sure the door closed behind them, hopefully before anyone who happened to be inside heard and came to investigate. When they turned around to proceed down the alley, they saw a young man coming at them with a knife.
Emily felt Dall shove her behind him and saw him step up to meet the young man, grabbing first the wrist of the hand that held the knife, and second the other wrist, before the other hand could grab another knife from the young man’s boot.
The young man kicked at Dall then, saying amid a bunch of expletives, “You shouldn’t have come into my alley. Now we’re going to have to mess you up.” He kept struggling viciously, but he couldn’t get his wrists free of Dall’s hold.
Emily looked around to see who ‘we’ was, but she didn’t see anyone else.
All the while, the kid shouted expletives and grunted.
“Dall, I don’t see anyone else but this young man,” Emily reassured Dall in English, to make sure the young man understood she was on the ball and not intimidated by him.
Dall’s attention was understandably 100% on the young man.
The youth kept kicking at Dall.
Dall kept dodging, which made his kilt sway all over the place.
Still using filthy language, the young man said, “What kind of man are you, huh, wearing a dress?” The young gangster laughed at that, even though Dall had a firm hold on his wrists.
“I am a MacGregor,” Dall said matter-of-factly in his thick highlands accent, “And this is no dress but my plaid, which I am proud to wear.”
“Whoa,” said the young man, “You talk just like those Outlander people on the TV.” He sounded impressed, but he didn’t stop trying to kick Dall and make him let go of his wrists. Or swearing.
Dall didn’t let go, and he calmly kept dodging the youth’s kicks.
“Yeah,” Emily said, admiring the way Dall’s kilt swayed, oh, and the way he was calmly handling the situation with only the necessary amount of violence, “those Outlander people are from Scotland, like Dall is. And I’m Emily, his wife, so I’m a MacGregor too. Look, we can’t stay here all day, uh, talking. We’re on our way to visit my parents, and we need to get going.”
Dall and the gangster were still dancing around each other.
The kid looked almost comical, the way h
e was caught and trying to attack.
Emily was amused, but she knew the longer they stuck around, the better the chance some of the other members of the gang would show up. Probably with guns.
With every other word a swear word, the gangster said, “Huh, you don’t talk funny like your man, here. You’re an American, aren’t you.”
It was like he used profanity as punctuation.
“Yes, I am,” Emily agreed, wanting to smile and even to laugh, but starting to get anxious.
The gangster made an ‘ew’ face. “Why don’t you get him some American clothes, then, instead of him going around dressed so weird?”
“I like his kilts,” Emily said, looking up and down the alley, a little bit nervously, she had to admit. “We met at the faire when it was here. I like that sort of stuff.”
It might have been Emily’s imagination, but it seemed like Dall was making his kilt sway a little more now, shaking his hips as he dodged the young man’s kicks.
Which was funny, because the young man was getting tired and not kicking as often or as hard. He was laughing a little now, too. “Ha ha. I should’ve known you were from that faire. I have a cousin who is into that [expletive].”
Dall must have realized the young man’s clan would come to his aid soon, too, because Dall cut to the chase. “Lad, we mean you no harm, but we cannot stay here all the day. So give me your word you will not attack us, and I will let you go and we will be on our way.”
“Dall—”
“Emily, this is between me and this man here. Stay out of it, lass.”
At hearing her name, the young man seemed to perk up, but she must be seeing things. Where would he have heard of her?
The gangster relaxed, though. He quit kicking and lowered his arms. “OK, if you guys just pass right on through, I’ll forget you were in my alley.”
Emily jumped on that, but she wanted to make sure he meant it. Her teacher-training said that if she could get him to help them in some way, then he would be invested in letting them go without a fight. “Thanks. Which way to the closest place to eat that would be open?”
The gangster was young, but his street smarts were all there. He backed away from Dall before he jerked his thumb down one side of the alley and told them, “There’s one of those espresso places across the street at the end of the alley down that way. They have rolls and [expletive].”
Keeping his eyes on the young man, Dall held out his hand for Emily.
Looking all around in case anyone was coming, she walked up to him and took it.
“I thank you, lad,” Dall said, and then he turned his back on the young man and led Emily down the alley at a brisk pace, but at a dignified walk rather than a scared run.
They almost made it out of the alley without hearing any more of it.
But then behind them, the young man called out, “Hey, what were you doing in that club when it was closed, anyway?”
By silent assent, they ignored him and walked a little faster, listening in case he came running up behind them.
Emily had to hold Dall back from crossing the street without making sure a car wasn’t coming.
There was a line inside the espresso bar. For once, Emily was glad. She felt safer with other people around. Sure, the gang might go into a crowded place and make trouble, but it didn’t seem nearly as likely as getting attacked in a dark alley. She didn’t even wonder why none of these people had gone into the alley to see what all the yelling was about.
“I want to buy something,” she said to Dall in Gaelic while she scanned the bakery counter, “just to pay the owner back for having this place of safety here for us.”
He nodded yes and also spoke in Gaelic. “I’ll watch to see if he or any of his clan show up, but I do think we are safe now, lass.” Dall was taking a seat next to the door, where it looked like he could see out the window across the street to the alleyway.
Emily bought them each a latte and a cinnamon roll and put them down on Dall’s table, where they were duly consumed. Shame to waste good food, right? Meanwhile, wasting no more time, Emily called a cab.
“Whew,” she said to Dall, “a car will be here in ten minutes to take us to my parents’ house.”
“Will they be at home, lass? Remember, it is Monday now, and you did say they both had duties outside the home during the week.”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. They’ll be at work. I’ll call my mom and ask them to meet us for a long lunch out. They’ll love it.”
She did just that.
Even though in her time it had only been two weeks since they last saw each other, her mom sounded elated to get the call. She enthusiastically agreed to grab Emily’s dad and meet them for lunch.
But Emily’s call-waiting had beeped repeatedly while she was on the phone with her mom, and now that she checked it, she saw that Vange had been the one calling. She showed Dall and then called her best friend.
“What the heck is going on, Em?” Vange asked over the phone in a huff. She sounded angry, but also like she was crying. Yep, she sniffled a little. Vange always did that when she cried.
Emily leaned in toward Dall and put the phone between them so he could hear too before she asked Vange, “What do you mean? What’s wrong, Vange?”
Vange said, “My cousin Emilio just called to ask if I know you and Dall, that’s what.” Her friend was full-on sobbing now.
It tore at Emily’s heart.
“What did you tell him?” Emily asked. She was trying to sound soothing and businesslike at the same time. She wasn’t sure it was working. She had never been so upset while acting before. She hated that she had to act.
“I told him that you and I have been best friends since fourth grade, of course.” Vange’s voice kept getting higher and higher, until she was practically squeaking, she was so choked up. “What should I have told him, because I’m obviously not included in your plans if you just ran into him in an alley, Emily.”
Oh no. This was getting dangerously close to having to discuss time travel with Vange, and Emily had promised not to discuss it with anyone except Siobhan. More importantly, so had Dall, and as Dall’s wife, Emily had the feeling she could get him in trouble with his masters, if even she was the one who disobeyed them, not him.
But this was Vange. It hurt Emily, the sound of her best friend feeling left out and ignored. “We’re coming into town to see my parents, Vange, and of course we want to see you too. It was a spur of the moment decision. Oh, and the cab’s here to pick us up. Please hold on, OK? Don’t go anywhere.”
“OK.” Vange still sounded hurt, but at least she hadn’t ended the call. That was good, right?
“Alright,’ Emily said, “we’re in the cab now, headed over to see you. What do you want to do?”
Emily was glad she’d had coffee. It was starting to be a long time since she slept, and it looked like it would be a long time more.
“Nice try, Em. How could you come all that way without calling me to make plans first? I thought I was your best friend.” Vange had a handle on her crying now and was getting angry instead, but Emily knew her friend was really hurt. She had a right to be.
Emily couldn’t tell her best friend the truth, and it was killing her. She decided to play the married card and blame Dall. Hoping he’d understand, she said, “I wanted to, but Dall came up with the idea to see them on the spur of the moment, and then he kept me busy so I couldn’t call.”
Vange giggled, which was a good sign. But it sounded a little forced. And then Vange asked the question Emily was hoping wouldn’t occur to her. “What were you doing back in that town where we were Saturday night, though, let alone in that alley, Em?” She sounded suspicious, but willing to hear a reasonable explanation.
And then Emily thought of one. “Dall lost his ID out in back of that club Saturday night, when he followed some of the guys out there who wanted to smoke.”
“Oh no.” Oh good. Vange sounded relieved and like she believed Emily’s excuse. But
not as warm as she usually did.
Emily knew that was because she was just finding out now, after the fact. They used to tell each other everything right away.
“Yeah, that sporran thingy isn’t very secure, is it. Did he find it?” Vange said, sounding sad but trying to hide that she was.
It was on the tip of Emily’s tongue to say, “No. Your cousin didn’t give him a chance to look.” But she realized just in time that saying that would make Vange call her cousin again. And Emilio might say something about her and Dall coming out of the club… Nope. Best to just… “Yeah. Yeah, he found it.”
Dall didn’t have any ID, but that was beside the point. How was he ever going to get a driver license, though? The licensing office wanted a birth certificate or a passport or some form of ID in order to give out ID...
“Oh, that’s good.” Vange was trying to sound like the whole thing was cleared up, but she still sounded sad.
Which hurt Emily almost as much as when her friend had been mad at her, but not quite.
“Yeah,” Emily said, “so where do you want to meet us, Vange? We’re meeting my parents at noon for a long lunch and then we have to head back, but we’ll get into town about ten, so what’ll it be?”
The three of them walked around the mall. It was sort of crowded for a Monday, but then again, it was summer. All the high school girls were out of school, so of course they were shopping. The senior citizens were in the mall for the air conditioning. Middle-aged people who worked other shifts were too, but they were mostly in workout clothes, hoofing it around the walkways as fast as they could.
Dall, highlander fighter Dall who was always ready for a fight, was tripping over people, he was so busy gawking at all the glass-enclosed shops and the shiny waxed floors and the fountains and the glass ceiling and the food court and … pretty much everything.
Vange laughed at him. “Don’t they have malls in Scotland?”
“Nay, no, not in the small towns where I hail from, lass.”
Emily was proud of her husband for thinking so well on his feet, and glad to see her friend’s spunky side showing, but it only lasted a moment.