The Event

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The Event Page 5

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson


  Her eyes glistened with tears, and she wiped them away. "God, look at me. I'm an emotional wreck. This damn wedding is making me a blubber head."

  "Um, don't blame the wedding. You've always been a blubber head."

  We laughed, and she tugged at her long ponytail. "Truth."

  Mr. Green Suit popped in behind her, smiling.

  I tried to ignore him, but he did some funky hopping dance thing like a square dancer, and I just couldn't.

  Mel twisted around, and then back to me. "Who's there? Mr. Green Suit?"

  I nodded.

  "In my house? Seriously? Can you make him go away?"

  "What do you want me to do, wiggle my nose, and he'll just disappear?"

  "If it works."

  "Tick tock. Tick tock," Mr. Green Suit said.

  Good grief. "What's with the tick-tock crap? Am I on a deadline or something?"

  He tapped his wrist like he'd actually had a watch on it.

  I jumped up, and pain seared through my abdomen. I clutched my waist, breathed in deeply and waited for the pain to pass.

  Mel was up in a second. "You need to sit." She helped me back to the floor and flipped around, her index finger wiggling at Mr. Green Suit like she could see him. "You need to leave. Can't you see she's in pain? I don't know what the hell you're doing, but you're not going to do it at my house. You're not invited here."

  Mr. Green Suit raised his eyebrow at me. "She's feisty, isn't she?"

  I bit my lip. I knew if I said anything she'd want to know what he'd said and then she'd get all angry Mel at him. I didn't want Angry Mel taking her pre-wedding stress out on the leprechaun because I didn't know what kind of retribution that could cause. I held her arm. "It's okay. It's time I figure out what's going on anyway."

  Mr. Green Suit tapped his wrist again.

  "Please do. I do not want this thing at my wedding." She stared at an empty space in her family room. "Even if I can't see him."

  I moved over to the couch because talking to a leprechaun from the floor just didn't seem right. "So, what about my other two wishes?"

  His head tilted. "There are no wishes. Just a simple question."

  "Really? Because folklore says I should have three wishes, so what do you say to that?"

  He chuckled. "You do understand that folklore is just a fancy word for myth, right?"

  I crossed my arms over my chest. "Says the leprechaun standing in my best friend's family room."

  He nodded. "Point taken. However, folklore, as it's defined, is stories and beliefs passed from generation to generation and usually by word of mouth. Much like the game telephone, folklore, over time, has changed the duties of my kind."

  When he put it that way, it kind of made sense. At least in an, I can't believe I'm talking to a leprechaun, but I am, kind of way. "Okay, so you only want to grant me the one wish." I nodded. "Why?"

  "As I said, it is not a wish. It is a question. What if I told you I could bring your mother back? Would you want that?"

  "Okay, so, technically it's two questions." That was petty, but I didn't care. He was a touch on the snooty side and brought the same out of me. "But there's got to be a catch, so spill it."

  He shook his head. "No catch, just possibilities."

  "What's he saying?" Mel asked.

  "Not a whole heck of a lot." I reiterated the brief back and forth.

  "He's playing you."

  "That's what I'm thinking."

  "I'm not playing you, nor am I planning to trick you. If you'll notice, I haven't even offered to bring your mother back."

  Dang. He was right. He'd only proposed a what if, not promised anything. "Okay, you're right. You didn't actually offer, I just assumed."

  "And we all know what assuming does." He smirked, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

  "Well, Mr. Obvious, of course, I want my mother back. If you knew anything about me or what's going on, you'd know that already. So, what's the point of this?"

  "Let me make sure I'm clear. You're saying that if I could bring your mother, Fran Richter, back, you would want me to, correct?"

  I didn't trust him. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying I want my mother back, but not if that means you're going to do something sneaky or trick me somehow."

  "And if my intentions are honest?"

  I sat on the edge of the couch. "How am I supposed to know that? I mean, I don't even believe in you, so how am I supposed to trust you?"

  "That is a risk you must be willing to take."

  "Yeah, well, the Universe has screwed me before, so…"

  "You need time to think about it. I understand." He pointed to his wrist again. "But your time is running out." He smiled and then disappeared.

  I glanced at Mel. "I hate him."

  She finished tying a pink ribbon around the last bag. "What's going on? I don't get it."

  "You and me both." I filled her in on the rest of the conversation.

  She nodded. "Oh my gosh, he's here to test you. See how bad you want her back. He's offering your mom, and when you tell him yes you want her, he's going to make you do something, and if you do, you'll get her back." She leaned back on her hands and straightened her legs in front of her. "The Universe wants back in your good graces, and they're using a leprechaun to grab you because they know you're not all that into ghosts right now."

  And that right there was exactly what best friends were for. "I think you're right. He's a plant. The Universe wants to see what my mother is worth to me."

  "That's what I'm thinking. Like hey, we'll give you Fran back if you do things our way."

  My eyes darted to the corners of the room. "Well, he's gone now, so I think they got the message."

  Mel climbed onto the couch and pulled her legs to her chest. "Are you sure that's the message you want to give?"

  "It's the real message, so, yeah."

  She pushed a runaway hair from my face. "But what if Fran really can come back, and you're not agreeing stops that from happening?"

  I sighed. "Then that's total B.S. Seriously, how should my decisions impact my mother's, eh…future or whatever it is? Really, that's a crap ton of not fair, don't you think?"

  "When has any of this ever been fair?"

  I dropped my head onto the back of the couch. "I hate this. I don't want to do things their way. Their way almost got me killed."

  "Okay, I'm going to say this, and I know you're not going to like it, but I don't care. You're not allowed to be mad at the bride weeks before her wedding anyway."

  "Really? Because no one ever gets mad at the bride before the wedding?"

  "Whatever, you're just not allowed. Hear me out, okay?"

  I nodded.

  "The truth is, you didn't die that day. Don't you think the Universe might have had something to do with that?"

  Ugh. Why did she have to go there? I'd focused so hard on not going there for the past two months, and there she goes, right to it. "That's not the point."

  She nodded while she spoke. "It is absolutely the point, and it's a huge point. They wanted you to learn something, and once you figure out what that is, I think you'll feel differently about all of this."

  "What could they possibly have wanted me to learn? That my mother could be pulled from me at any given moment? Okay, check. Learned that the day she was diagnosed with cancer. Or, wait. Maybe they wanted me to learn that I could be taken at any given moment? Yeah, check on that one, too." A vein on the bridge of my nose pulsed.

  "Maybe they wanted you to learn to make smarter choices?"

  I stared at her.

  "Like maybe not rushing off to confront a killer, or at least learning how to use a gun or defend yourself if you do?"

  Huh. If that was the case, it worked.

  "Maybe they wanted you to see you're stronger than you think, and with a little less spontaneity and with some extra help, you've got this killer catching thing down."

  I lowered my eyes. "Maybe, but what if—"

  She held
up her hand. "I don't think there needs to be a but here. I think you need to find Mr. Green Suit guy and put it all out there. My guess is he's not a real leprechaun, but a means of communication the Universe thought you'd listen to, maybe negotiate with."

  "Yeah, because I'm the kind of woman that'll hang with folklore characters."

  "Because you're the kind of woman that knows anything is possible."

  I leaned my head on her shoulder. "I'm supposed to be the smart one in this friendship. You're the pretty one."

  "Actually, I'm both." She kissed the top of my head. "But, you're beautiful to me."

  "Which means I'm not the smart one then?"

  "Maybe, just not in this case."

  "Nice try."

  We both laughed.

  "So, what do you think?"

  "I think you're probably right, but I'm going to sit on it for a bit."

  She stood. "Works for me. We've got a boatload of wedding crap to do now anyway, so let's get ‘er done."

  I toppled over, face down on the couch cushion. "But I'm not smart enough to do wedding stuff."

  She extended her hand. "Don't worry; I'll teach you everything I know."

  Three hours later we'd called everyone on the invite list to apologize for the late invitations and asked who would be attending. Mel's mother insisted on the calls, having figured out the reason behind Mel sending the invites out so late. And she thought she was the smart one.

  "I never realized your family is so Asian," I said as I disconnected the last call.

  "Wow, put that on Twitter and see what kind of response you get."

  I laughed. "You know what I mean; they speak Filipino and everything."

  "Uh, that's because most of them were born in the Philippines."

  "I need a shovel to dig an even deeper hole to crawl in to, don't I?"

  She waved her hand. "Only big enough for the two of us. I've grown up with these people, and I can barely understand a word they say. And I speak the language."

  "You know I struggle with accents, and they speak so fast, I feel like I'm on the phone with my cable provider's call center, but it's in Asia."

  "I know. I tell them to slow down all the time."

  "Now I know why you get the way you do when you're angry," I said and winked at her.

  "When you meet them at the wedding, you'll see it's easier to understand them face to face. They're great people. Especially my cousin Boy Boy. He's a trip."

  "You have a cousin named Boy Boy?"

  She nodded. "Actually, his name is Arvin, but nobody calls him that. We all call him Boy Boy."

  "I'm not sure which is worse."

  "Trust me, Arvin is worse. Everyone has these stupid names. It's like a thing there. My other cousin is Pinky, and my aunt is La La."

  "Do you have one?"

  She ignored me.

  "Come on, what is it?"

  "Oh no. No way am I telling you. I'll never live it down."

  I blanched. "As if I'd make fun of your culture. I can't believe you'd think that of me."

  "You would totally make fun of my culture. Heck, I make fun of it."

  "What if I promise not to say a thing?"

  "Nope."

  "Please?"

  "Stop it," Mel said. "I'm not falling for it."

  "Come on, pretty please? With sugar on top? And you know I've given sugar up, so that's gotta mean something."

  "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

  "Never."

  She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but this stays between us, okay?"

  I nodded.

  "Not that it's not going to come out at the wedding anyway. Gawd. I should elope."

  "Tell me, dammit!"

  "Bum Bum. My name is Bum Bum okay? Now, can we just drop it?"

  I busted out laughing. "Oh my God, do you know how many jokes I can make with that, Bum Bum?"

  She grabbed a pillow off the loveseat and threw it at me. "Knock it off, Panther. Remember, I know secrets about you."

  There was that. "Fine." I choked out the fine because I was laughing.

  She twisted her ponytail around her hand. "I'm glad they're coming. I'm just so not interested in having a big wedding."

  "Remember, more guests means more gifts."

  "More gifts means more clutter or trips to return stuff."

  "Yeah, there is that." I piddled with my list of names. "What're we doing next?"

  "I think that's it for now. You need to go home anyway. Have a chat with the pointy-eared dude and go from there."

  I whined. "Oh, fine."

  We hugged, and I told her I'd catch up with her after my convo with Mr. Green Suit.

  * * *

  Scott Price waited for me outside the studio, but he wasn't alone.

  "Yeah, I heard you can't keep a secret," I said to Price as I hugged him.

  Aaron laughed. "Police first, friends second in this kind of thing."

  "Em hmm."

  We threw our stuff on the chairs, and I excused myself to wrap my midsection. I didn't want to do that in front of my best friend's fiancé.

  Aaron handed me a box when I returned. "Merry Christmas."

  "It's almost March."

  "Okay, then consider it a wedding party gift. Just open it."

  I opened the black box and cringed when I saw the ugly amulet looking thing. "What is this?"

  "It's a punch knife. Attaches to your belt and pulls out like this." He removed it from the box and showed me how it worked. "So, the point is to do your best to keep your distance from an attacker, and most importantly, stay upright. If you've got the ability, you can pull this out and use it in their gut or wherever you can reach."

  The thought of that made my stomach hurt.

  "Here, we're going to show you, and then you can practice on us."

  "With the knife?"

  Price laughed. "You can practice with it on Banner, but not me."

  "I'm marrying her best friend. She's not allowed to stab me before the wedding."

  Price raised an eyebrow. "Well, I did initially want to go out with your cutie fiancé, so maybe we ought to make this as realistic as possible?"

  Aaron flipped him off. "Mel's too much for you, Price. Trust me."

  "Good grief. Mel's too much for either of you. Aaron just got lucky." I waved my hand toward the mat. "Either of you going to show me how to kick some ass or what?"

  They did. It took them ten minutes to get serious, but when they finally did, I watched like a hawk, guessing their next moves and paying attention to foot placement. When it was my turn, we used a coaster for a knife, which didn't have the same effect I would have liked, but it did the job for training purposes.

  I went through different drills with both of them, and though it was awkward at first with Aaron, it ended up being a good thing. He was polite, asking me if he could touch me—about one hundred times—and I finally told him to stop treating me like a stranger and do what he needed to do.

  A punch knife was an effective tool for self-defense, and I understood why Aaron and Price both wanted me to have it, but I wasn't sure it would work for me. "The problem with this thing," I held it up as I spoke. "is that it has to be hooked to a belt. I don't typically wear belts."

  Price showed me how to attach it to the waistband of my clothing, but I wasn't sure it would stay there.

  "Every time I've seen you, you're in jeans," Aaron said. "or workout clothes. What would you wear that it might not attach to?"

  "Leggings, a skirt, a sundress."

  He laughed.

  "What?"

  "I've never once seen you in a sundress."

  He had a point. "Well, you definitely will now."

  Price chuckled. "You can attach it to a lanyard and pull it from there if you're wearing something else."

  "Yeah." I wiggled the knife in front of his face. "Because this is such a fabulous jewelry accessory."

  "An accessory that could save your life," Aaron said.

  "Good
point. I'll get a lanyard just in case."

  We spent another hour working on tripping, pushing, choke holds and my regular punching and kicking exercises. I wasn't at one hundred percent, but I did better than I thought I would and was surprised my ribs hurt less than last time.

  "You look like you're feeling better," Price said. "Let's not overdo it, though." He grabbed a bottled water from the ‘fridge by the front desk and handed it to me. "Here, drink this."

  I guzzled it down.

  "We'll pick this up next week as planned, okay?" He smiled at Aaron. "You're welcome back too unless you've got wedding stuff going on. Like addressing envelopes or something."

  I giggled.

  Aaron rolled his eyes. "I'll see if I can make it. Now that I've seen what you're doing to my friend and how she's handling it, I feel better about her working with you." He paused. "At least, for now."

  Price nodded. "Good to know."

  "I'm outta here," I said. "I've got some things to take care of that don't include punch knives or kicking, so…" I held up the knife to Aaron. "Thanks for this. How much do I owe you?"

  "We're good."

  "Okay then." I didn't bother unwrapping my abs and just grabbed my bag, said goodbye and left.

  Instead of driving home, I headed to Fowler Park, a county parks and recreation facility with a walking path through the woods. I needed to get out in the fresh air—fresh pollen saturated air because spring in Georgia was like that—and have a heart to heart with myself.

  Whether I wanted to or not.

  I unwrapped my ribcage in the park's parking lot and stuffed the wrap into my bag. The park was all but empty, which I figured would be the case, so, I knew I'd be able to walk in peace. I hit the path and thought about bumping my pace to a slow jog, but I hadn't even walked like this since the incident, and I didn't want to push myself more than I already had. Feeling better was a great motivator to cut myself some slack. My eyes itched from the pollen, and my sinuses did whatever it was sinuses do when pollen attacked. I chided myself for not starting my allergy pills already.

  "Okay, Universe. If what Mel said is true, then fine. I'm willing to talk."

  Mr. Green Suit popped up in front of me, smiling from ear to ear.

  I nodded. "Yeah, I figured you'd show up." I walked past him, and he set in beside me. "So, I guess leprechauns aren't real then, huh?"

  "Folklore and myths all have a basis in reality, but as I said, they're much like that game, telephone. Over time they take on a life of their own."

 

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