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I could see her point. "You want to stay?"
"Maybe just a few hours a day. "
"I should still be helping. I don't mind work. "
"Once the festival is over, I'll give you a list. " Her face took on a wary expression.
"What?"
"There are a few more meetings you have to chair. "
I groaned. "Isn't the council bad enough?"
She smiled. "Nothing as bad as them, though Hoyt left a message. "
"I suppose they thought up a bunch of new business. "
"Of course. But he also wanted to make sure you were planning on going to the legion with them after the next meeting. "
"Me?"
Joyce smiled. "Yep. "
"Huh. "
"Yeah. You've been anointed, girl. Congrats. "
All the way back to my office, I floated. Although I wasn't happy to discover there was more work to being the mayor than I'd thought, it did explain a lot about my dad's obsession. Still I was thrilled that the council had accepted me as one of them so quickly. Those old coots weren't easy to get along with. I doubted they ever would be, even after several pitchers of Bud Light.
My office and the waiting area were still empty. Yahoo. Joyce arrived momentarily.
"Anything else come up this morning?" I asked.
Joyce shook her head, already preoccupied with the mound of paper in her in-box.
"Hold my calls," I said.
Once behind my desk, I stared at my blotter. I should get to work, help out Joyce, but instead my mind went directly to the nights I'd spent with Mal. I relived every touch, every word. Would I be reliving it for the rest of my life?
I turned to my computer, but instead of answering e-mail, I spent the next ten minutes finding a translation site for Gaelic.
"A ghra," I murmured, typing it into the translator.
My love, my dear.
I frowned. He'd said that meant "pixie. "
I leaned forward, thinking hard on the other words he'd murmured.
"A stor. "
My darling.
He'd never actually told me what that one meant; however -
"A chroi," I said as I typed.
My heart, my heart's beloved.
