Thursday, May 15, 2014

“Yeah, it only took a century of marriage for your father to get it through his head that I truly was your mate.”

   (Small Fry Chapter 3) 


“So this is the last of your Dad’s stuff, huh?”  He picked up the baby album, to peruse through.  “It’s hard to think of your father being a baby.  Whenever I think of Hunter Wisetail, I remember this disapproving, old Lokoti Werewolf, constantly looking over my shoulder.  It was like he was just waiting for me to screw up.”

“He wasn’t that bad!” I rolled my eyes.  “Besides, you and Dad ended up getting along.”

“Yeah, it only took a century of marriage for your father to get it through his head that I truly was your mate.”  He complained.  “In the end we didn’t get along, we simply stopped fighting aloud.  Trust me, our glares said it all.”

This made me recall something about my parent’s passing, in particular what was communicated between my father and husband.

“Declan,” I began, “just before Mum and Dad left for the space time continuum, what did he say telepathically to you?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘do you really have to ask?’ or something as such.”  I remembered.

“Oh yeah, he tried to make me swear that I’d always put your safety first.”  He said bitterly.  “And my response to such a stupid question was, did he really have to ask?  He was about to leave behind his mortal existence and evolve as a sparkling cloud of energy and light, to the space time continuum.  But he still didn’t trust me with his beloved, only daughter.”

I cupped his face to pull him in for a kiss. “Yes, but I’m your beloved B now.” 

“Damn straight,” he murmured, just before our lips pressed together.  “You always have been and always will be, no matter how hard your father tried to split us up.”

“He didn’t try to split us up!”

“He married you to another man.”

“Oh yeah, there was that.”  I conceded.  “But that was before Dad knew of my feelings for you.”

“He suspected MY feelings and he still pushed you onto Grant.”  He let go to busy himself, by picking up the box.  “I’m gonna go put this stuff up into the attic.”

“No, I will.”  I hopped off the bench to take it from him.  “While I’m up there, I wanna check on something.”

“OK then,” he watched me walk away.  “Hey, have you actually eaten breakfast yet?”

“No.” I called over my shoulder.

“I’m gonna fix you some toasted tomato and cheese sandwiches then.”

“OK!”  I sung back.

 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Post a Comment