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“You’re not,” she says. “Any idiot can see that, so talk. Tell Moira all about yuir troubles.”
Her accent fades in and out and I wonder if she’s Scottish or just affecting it for some reason. When it’s in, it’s good, but I’ve never heard anyone with an accent who doesn’t have it all the time.
Of course, paying attention to that is nothing more than me avoiding. I don’t want to think about my problems, and I can’t tell her the truth, at least not all of it. It’s too crazy to share with anyone.
Dugald finally shows up and he wants me to train, which on the surface is great. I want to understand and be able to control the power I felt in the Fae lands almost as much as I want to get back to Duncan. Except I’m here and there’s so much I’m needed for. My dad looms large in my thoughts and, as he does, tears swell in my eyes.
“Oh honey, talk to me,” Moira says, putting her arm around my shoulders and pulling me into her.
I can’t keep this in. It’s a black pressure in my head building and building. I push aside thoughts of Duncan and the MacGregors, but if I don’t let some of this go soon, I’m sure it will explode.
“It’s my dad,” I say.
That’s a safe subject, no matter how much it hurts, and it’s foremost on my mind right now.
“Ach,” Moira says. “What’s he done?”
I shake my head and can’t hold back my tears.
“Not done, doing,” I sob. “Alzheimer’s.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”
She holds me and the tears I’ve held at bay for so long rip free as if the levy broke.
“He still knows me but he’s weird about my mom,” I say.
“That poor lass,” she says. “I can’t imagine losing my love like that.”
“To make matters worse the bills are piling up. They need help and I can’t do anything about it and all I really want is to go—” I cut myself off before I finish the sentence. It shocks me enough to stop the tears. I’d almost said back in time. It almost slipped out and that I can’t allow. She’ll think I’m bonkers.
“Go to?” she pries but I shake my head.
“Nothing,” I say, scrambling in my head to find a way to steer the conversation back to safe ground. “Spring break is what I mean. I wanted to travel for break, maybe go to Fort Lauderdale.”
“And you can’t because he needs you?”
“That and money,” I say. “How can I go spending a bunch of money like that when I know they’re struggling?”
“You’ve a heart of gold. I get it. This world, it can be tough, but it’s also beautiful.”
“What do you mean? What’s beautiful about any of this?” I ask, waving my coffee around and almost spilling some.
“Modern medicine for one. A daughter who puts her family first, for another. That’s a beautiful thing too. This world ain’t all bad, look around and see the beauty, even themagicof it.”
Magic. The word grabs my attention. It’s something about the way she says it, or the way it sounds when she does. The moment replays in my head and even in memory it seems to echo and vibrate. In the same way a fine crystal rings when struck by a knife. As if the universe itself is vibrating in response.
Moira places her hand over mine on the table. Her touch is soft, warm, and welcome. It’s grounding, an anchor to the world around me and not the one of the Fae and the past. Tying me to the now, and for the first time since I returned from Scotland, I feel like I’m here. Fully, my attention not split.
“You really see magic in this world?”
“Of course I do,” she says, patting my hand. “All you have to do is look. As a child, the world was full of wonder and excitement. You need to recapture that view of the world around you. Be a kid. This world is great.”
“It doesn’t seem so great,” I murmur.
The pressure of all the things going wrong in my life weighs heavily on my thoughts. That stack of bills at my parents’ house. The classes I’m probably failing. My dad being sick. And as if that isn’t enough for any one person, there is Duncan and the MacGregors.
The familiar ache forms in my chest thinking of Duncan. It’s not only that I miss him, but I was happy there, with him. Mostly. There were problems, sure. Am I romanticizing it? Maybe I am, I don’t know. It was only two months ago. Well, two months and some four hundred years or so.
