Long Night; Part 8

YAY!  

Since I was in too much of a cleaning-whirlwind yestreday to post, I've decided to make it up to you by double-dipping today!

Here's the next installment in the LONG NIGHT business.

I've been wanting to post this one for, um, months.  Not that it;s great, just... I like it and have liked it since the day I wrote it.  It was one of the first LONG NIGHT vignettes that I wrote.

Did you catch that the last one didn't end with  'long night' line?  Whoops.  A few of them don't, but I liked the common thread and tried to keep it going through most of them.

This is CALEB, who we don't see too often, but I heart him.  Of course, I also know secrets about him, shhhhh!

But he's a sweetie!

So enjoy part 8!!

***********************

Caleb hadn’t told Jonah and Velvet about Gideon yet.  The invite to this family dinner had come addressed to both of them.  As had the marriage announcement. 

When Velvet had called to gossip with Caleb about Grey’s sudden marriage he hadn’t the heart to tell her about Gideon.  Why ruin her soaring high spirits with his own tale of woe?

He’d cried his eyes out to his best friend, then he’d finally sat down with Nolan and cried on his shoulder too.  Now it was just fact.  He was single.  Again.  For the first time in years.  Alone.

And he was going to show up at Jonah and Velvet’s sans partner, and he wasn’t going to lie about it anymore.  Nolan had made him promise as much.

“But, Nole, I don’t want to be a drama queen at this party for Grey and the new bride!”  He’d argued reasonably.

Nolan had shaken his head firmly.  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.  You did the right thing.  You’ll be among family.  No more pretending.”

Ugh.  But he really didn’t want to have to explain to another person why he and the man he’d been about to propose to were finished.  And he knew his adorable sister-in-law would be tenacious.  Wouldn’t rest until she knew everything.

The worst part of it was the family had all been crazy about Gideon.  He’d fit right in.  Like it was meant to be.  Because Caleb had dated some real jerks, guys that made both his brothers’ respective hackles rise, guys that Velvet and Zahra had slammed and roundly dismissed as ‘not good enough’ for him.  Losers.  Always losers with killer bodies, but still, not marriage material.  Hell, not always even live-together material.

But with Gideon it had been different. 

Why the fuck had he cheated?  Caleb had racked his brain up and down, over and over, and tried to figure out what in hell he’d done wrong, what he lacked that had made the love of his life turn to another man.  A younger man.  Christ, that kid was closer to Grey’s age than to his own.

Whatever.

Caleb strode purposefully up to Jonah’s door and took a deep breath before ringing the bell.  He would live through this.  He’d survive it, and endure it, and he’d put on a smile and meet the newest addition to the Delaney clan. 

He forced himself to remain calm at the fact that his 24 year old nephew had just up and married someone, who, if gossip and rumor were to be believed, he hardly knew at all, when he, Caleb, couldn’t seem to pin down a marriageable man after more than a decade of serious effort.  Whatever.  Maybe he’d up and elope with the next guy he fucked.  Maybe that was the secret.

He was being hasty.  He’d see how Grey and this girl behaved together tonight and reserve his judgment till then.

“Uncle Caleb!”  His eldest niece opened the door with a false smile, which he hoped wasn’t because of him, and gave him a perfunctory hug and kiss on the cheeks.

“Hey gorgeous—you helping play hostess this evening?”  Avalon had moved to the campus but was still home often enough to still be considered ‘in residence’ at the Delaney mansion. 

“Guess so.”  She said as he moved into the foyer.  “Where’s Gideon?”

“He’s not coming.”  Caleb answered resolutely.  It was beginning.  “Where’s that dashing fiancé of yours?”  He dodged preemptively.

Caleb heard chatter and laughter from the direction of the living room and the kitchen both.  He’d spied Zahra’s van when he pulled up because he’d parked beside it, but hadn’t taken special note of any of the other cars.  He supposed he was running a tad behind.  It was taking him forever to get dressed and ready lately.  Everything he owned felt old and frumpy and unflattering.  And his hair was just plain rebellious since the break up.  He imagined it was sulking about Gideon’s absence. 

“He’s driving Aunt Grace over, so he should be here soon.”

“Oh good.”  Caleb loved Grace like an older sister.  “Holden?”

Avalon shook her head.  Holden Sinclair was a real sonofabitch.  Caleb doubted the man had ever gone more than a month without some form of infidelity to his gorgeous, brilliant, queen of a wife.  Everyone in Cedar Falls wondered why such an intelligent, self-assured woman stayed with a husband like that. 

Caleb was beginning to empathize with her.  There had been too many nights since he’d found Gideon in their bed with that young man, too many nights when he had considered accepting the convincing apology, considered calling him, considered relenting and finding a way to ‘work through it’.  He was beginning to understand how Grace could have stayed with Holden all these years.  Love does funny things to the best of us, he supposed.

And of course people close enough to the situation knew that while Grace Sinclair’s husband wasn’t exactly unwelcome at Jonah and Velvet Delaney’s, he wasn’t precisely welcomed with open arms either.  They were her friends first, his only by default.  Hell, Jonah had been somewhat leery when Avalon and Ben had started getting close. Even though they all knew and loved Ben like their own, Jonah was terribly worried that his father’s tendencies might have rubbed off of the boy.  It had taken him a while to finally relax and trust that the kid was perfectly decent and upright and definitely worthy of his daughter.

Caleb smiled thinking about it.  Everybody else had seen immediately that the old adage about girls and their fathers had come true with Avalon; she’d gone out and chosen herself a boy that was so much like Jonah it was almost hilarious.  He might look like Grace and Holden Sinclair, but Ben may as well have been raised by Jonah Delaney, so alike was he in demeanor and temperament.  He was kind and gentle and considerate and polite, he was helpful and affable and on the quiet side, he was smart and even-tempered and mature beyond his years. 

All growing up the boy had followed ‘Uncle’ Jonah around whenever the families got together for vacations or outings, while Grey was always sneaking off and causing mischief.  Ben had stuck with boyscouts years after Grey had quit, and Jonah had stayed on as a troop leader.  Ben volunteered at the hospital, just like Jonah had done at that age, he was an after-school tutor like Jonah had been, and he was, from all accounts, a bit of a romantic sap too.  His proposal to Avalon was something right out of a romance novel, or a girl’s diary it was so damned perfect.

And his rigid sense of decency, of gentlemanly conduct and honor, seemed to be taken right from the Jonah Delaney handbook.  There was no way that young man would ever fool around behind Ava’s back.   And Jonah was gaining one hell of a great son-in-law.

“You pick your colors yet?”  Caleb asked, slipping out of his winter coat and moving to the hall closet.  “At poker night Ben said something about lavender and lilac?”

Avalon made a ferocious growl and Caleb jumped a bit at the vehemence of it.  “Hey, straight boys don’t know colors, I assumed he was talking out of his ass.”  He soothed.

“Lavender and lilac are Mum’s fantasy.  Because of my eyes. If I hear her utter those colors again I’m going to lose it.” 

Caleb chuckled at her truculent tone of voice.  “Next time she tries to force purple on you—“  He lowered his voice conspiratorially as he hung his coat, “You just ask her how she felt about her mother always forcing her to wear velvet all the time.”

His niece’s eyes got wide.  “Whaaaat?”

Caleb laughed.  “Oh god yes.  That crazy old bat insisted that girl wear velvet at every event and special occasion—haven’t you noticed that your mother doesn’t own a single piece of velvet clothing?  Or drapes?  Or anything?”

Avalon’s face broke out into a wide grin.  “You’re kidding.”

“Swear to God.  She told me all about it one time when my dad was trying to get me to try out for football.”

“Leave it to Mum to talk about clothes when you’re having an identity crisis.”  Avalon commented wryly.

“Honey, there is almost never an inappropriate time to make fashion analogies with me.”

She laughed appreciatively.  “The old bat is here, by the way, so watch your tongue.” Avalon cautioned and began to move toward the living room.  “And she’s in rare form tonight too.”

Aw shit.  Velvet’s mother was a frigid old c-bag, and she made her distaste for his open lifestyle known every single time he was in her presence.  Caleb tried not to take her animosity personally.  Rumor was her husband had died in the arms of a whore, but the seedier truth of it, he’d learned from this ancient fag who ran the hair salon downtown, was that he’d died in the arms of a male lover—and he’d been deep into some pretty kinky shit too, from what he’d heard.

Caleb was about to comment on the delightful news of her wretched grandmother’s presence, when his youngest niece hopped into the foyer, looking mischievous and adorable.  “Uncle Caleb!”  She shrieked on sight, and ran full force into him with her arms spread wide. 

Caleb laughed with delight and lifted her high above his head.  She was light as a feather.  She’d be a peanut like Viola, he predicted.  “Princess Lola the all-magical!”  He declared with grandeur, spinning her as he lowered her back to her feet.

She bounced with delight, her exotic little face stretched in an over-wide grin, her eyes scrunched and giddy.  Nolan’s kids were absolutely gorgeous.  With that buttery-chocolaty skin, the rich, jet-black hair and the striking Indian aesthetic?  His girls were going to be knock-outs like their mother, only more mainstream friendly because of their white father, and Ajay was going to absolutely break hearts.  He’d probably be as handsome as his father, only he’d be more mysterious and alluring because he was bi-racial.  The younger two had Zahra’s hypnotizing midnight-black eyes, but Keer had somehow managed to get her dad’s blue-gray stormclouds, which stood out in her face in such a captivating way the girl almost took your breath away.

“Guess what?  I’m getting a baby unicorn for my birthday!”  Lola asked and answered before he’d so much as drawn a breath to respond.

“Oh my goodness, for real?”

The little munchkin nodded regally.  “Because I’m a princess and princesses need unicorns.”  She explained reasonably.

Caleb caught Avalon’s eyes and they shared a smile.  Lola was the cutest little thing alive.  “Well, yeah, obviously.  I figured it was only a matter of time.”  He responded seriously.

“Show Uncle Caleb your shoes.”  Prompted Avalon with an indulgent smile.

Lola was wearing a long peasant-style skirt in Bollywood colors, probably because it made her feel like a princess to have long skirts on.  He doubted very much that Zahra had had any say in the choosing of this crazy outfit.  The girl’s top was some kid-show graphic tee with sparkly stylized cartoon horses on it, with a long sleeved shirt underneath that had stars and hearts and rainbows all over it.  In her thick raven hair she wore a headband with rhinestones, which, he imagined, was close enough to a tiara to pass.  The peasant skirt looked like a pride parade had gotten hold of a band of gypsies—it was richly colored in Bollywood yellows and magentas and fuchsias and lime greens and turquoise and was threaded through with silver and even had little bells and reflective thingies sewn onto it.  Who the hell had bought her this skirt?  ‘Loud’ was putting it mildly.

She did her best elegant twirl as she spun, and Caleb saw Jonah arrive in the archway just in time to witness her display.  His older brother paused, an amused little smile on his lips, politely waiting for Lola to do her thing before he’d come greet his little brother.

Lola lifted her skirt to her knees and held one foot out to Caleb, saying ‘ta-da!’ as she revealed a pair of glittering ruby-red slippers.

Caleb made an exaggerated gasp and put his hand to his heart.  “Those are spectacular!” he enthused.  “Every princess needs a pair of those.” 

“Wonderful.”  Said a dry, sarcastic voice from the other side of the Foyer.  “Rainbows and ruby slippers.  I guess she’s well on her way to joining your community.”

Caleb clenched his teeth and stretched his lips into the best smile he could manage.  In the center of the foyer little Lola put her foot back down, and though she didn’t understand the comment she reacted to the obviously disparaging tone of it by frowning and furrowing her precious little brow.

“Oh hello again Celia, It’s been far too long.”  Caleb said pleasantly, turning toward his brother’s frosty mother in law.

She laughed shortly.  “I heard from Adele Ward that your roommate left you for a younger model.  I guess men are all the same, no matter which side their bread is buttered on.”

Caleb’s false smile became one of open-mouthed astonishment.  Wow.  There was so much offensive about that greeting that he couldn’t even begin to process it just then. 

There was a moment of awkward silence in the foyer.  Even Lola was quiet for once in her little life.  Then several voices overlapped one another.  Jonah began to say something curt to his mother in law while Lola wondered aloud about why it mattered which side of the bread butter had to go on, and Avalon moved quickly and with an easy grace that comes from years of practice, to steer her grandmother back toward the kitchen.

“Lola, sweetie, can you run and tell mummy Uncle Caleb needs to know where she bought you that skirt?”

Lola nodded, though she still looked puzzled and maybe a little unhappy—who could blame her when there was a scary old crone in the house?

Lola wandered off with a lot less bounce in her step and Caleb turned to Jonah.

“Yeah.”  He said to the question in his brother’s face.  He put his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

“No.”

Caleb nodded.  “Yup.  Few weeks ago.  Just before New Year’s.  Walked in on him in bed with someone else.”

Jonah took a sharp breath in and looked miserable.  “I’m so sorry.”  He said quietly, folding one arm across his chest and reaching up with the other to adjust his glasses.  “God.”

Caleb swallowed and looked at the beautiful stone floor between them.  “Kicked him out of the townhouse.”

“Good for you.”

“Yeah.”

“God.”

“Mm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

Caleb shrugged.  How do you explain to your big brother that everytime a relationship doesn’t work out it feels like a failure next to Jonah’s incredible marriage to Velvet, or Nolan and Zahra’s?  How do you call your family and explain that the life you thought you were living, the life you believed you were building, was nothing more than a lie?  A mistake?  A waste of years of your life.

“I’m glad you ended it—if he was doing that, then you know he doesn’t deserve you—“  Jonah seemed to choke up.

Caleb nodded and pulled his mouth to the side.  He loved his brothers more than anything in the world.  “Still hurts like a bitch.”

Jonah grunted and finally moved forward to embrace him.  They clasped in a firm hug, Jonah patted him solidly on the back, and then kissed his cheek almost forcefully.  “You’ll find the right one.  I promise.”

Caleb had told Jonah that he wanted to settle down with Gideon, get married, start a family.  He felt like he’d lost more than a lover.  He felt like he’d been robbed of an entire future.  And he could tell Jonah guessed as much.

“Sorry about Celia.”  Jonah added sourly as they pulled apart.

“Yeah.  Wonderful.”  Caleb responded sardonically.  “This is going to a long goddamn night, huh?”

Long Night; Part 4

I love Maggie.  

As a writer, this is dangerous.  Because I like her so much, I tend to want everything to work out for her, and the scenes with Maggie tend toward almost saccharine sometimes.  I'm doing my very best to avoid that.  

But I just love her to bits.

Enjoy this next vignette about the long night, starring Magdalena!  Woot.

**************

Maggie was not particularly in the mood for another Delaney family dinner.  This one larger than the last.  She had a lot on her mind.  It had been one of the longest weeks of her life.  She had a new name, a new bank account, a new home, a new car, a new family, and a husband.  And tomorrow she was getting married…again. 

She’d asked Grey if he would be available to make the sacrament with her.  He’d gotten very quiet but he’d nodded, asked what time he should be at the chapel, what he should wear, and if he needed to bring anything.  He seemed resigned to the Catholic ceremony that he obviously viewed as redundant.  Well, he had been the one to offer it up as a possibility in the first place.  “We can be married by a priest as well if you’d like Sir.”  He’d said to her father at that painfully awkward wedding day brunch. 

Now it was time to actually do it, and to his credit he hadn’t put up a fuss.  But he’d been pretty taciturn and moody since that discussion.

And now they were arriving at the sliding glass door in the rear of the Delaney mansion once again, looking into the brightly illuminated perfect kitchen, granite surfaces covered with various platters and bowls and dishes for the evening’s festivities, and he’d hardly spoken a word to her in hours.  She was so nervous she’d nearly turned back three or four times on the walk over.

She consoled herself by focusing on the fact that he didn’t seem to have a large family and that this event would likely be very manageable.  Mrs. Delaney would be there, making sure conversations stayed pleasant and flowing.  Mr. Delaney would be there, and his was such a supportive presence.  Plus Grey’s twin sisters had been very pleasant and chatty last time, so they would probably be helpful.  And Ben Sinclair.  Maggie had never met a sweeter young man in her life—(Grey didn’t count because he’d turned out to be quite an ass, proving his sweetness false in the end) he was affable and warm and so very kind.  She’d be glad to see him again.

But Avalon didn’t seem to like her much at all and she was an intimidating sort of girl.  Maggie felt especially shabby and poor beside her polished elegance and refined sensibilities.  And then Grey’s grandmother would be in attendance.  Maggie’d never met Mrs. Calder, nor had Grey said much about her, but the woman had a reputation around Cedar Falls for being miserly, cruel, cold, and very sharp tongued.

And another set of butterflies was dancing in her belly because her boss would be in attendance.  She’d never seen Nolan Delaney in a social context before, and even though he was probably the finest man she’d ever met, she was becoming ridiculously self-conscious around him and dreading seeing him in this family setting.  He’d been somewhat aloof to her at the shop this past week.  She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, because he was as friendly as ever, smiled just as easily as he had before her honeymoon, but something was definitely more distant about him.  And it made her so nervous she thought she might vomit.  And she’d be meeting his family too. 

Grey slid the door open and a rainbow colored blur darted out from the breakfast nook and straight into his front with a delighted squeal of a greeting.

“Ooof!”  Grey grunted at the impact and the blank surprise of being ambushed on entry.  Then his face split into a genuine grin and Maggie was surprised at how her heart flipped in response to the sight of it.  He hadn’t been smiling much lately.

“Hey munchkin!”  He said, stooping down and lifting the colorfully garbed little creature from where it was wrapped around his leg, and tossing it into the cold winter night above his head.

It giggled exuberantly.  “Greyyyyyyyyy!”

Maggie remembered Lola Delaney.  She was the only member of Nolan’s family that she’d had the privilege of meeting so far, since he often picked her up from kindergarten and took her with him to work while his wife ferried the other children from school to soccer or instrument practice or other such activities.

“Hi Lola.”  Maggie said after Grey had finished tickling her breathless.  “Aren’t you cold out here without your coat?”

“Hi Maggie!”  Lola grinned.  “How come you’re here at my Uncle Jonah’s?”

Grey took the hint about the coat and carried Lola through the door and set her down on the kitchen floor once more.  Maggie followed and slid the door closed behind them.

“Can I take your coat?”  He asked Maggie as he shrugged out of his own.  The kitchen was quite warm, especially compared to the brisk air outside, and she was glad to doff the peacoat she’d borrowed from Viola.  She still hadn’t gone out to purchase a new one of her own.  She could only take so many new things at a time.  This week was: new last name; maybe next week would be new clothes.

But once she’d shed the coat she began to wish she’d at least gone out and picked up a few nicer garments.  The plain black dress she was wearing suddenly felt very frumpy as she stood in the glorious Delaney kitchen.  She’d bought it for her great-aunt Flora’s funeral the previous winter so it was conservative and simple and not especially flattering; and if it felt shabby in the kitchen she imagined it would feel like a trash bag when she stepped into that breathtaking dining room of theirs.

“Are you here to see Daddy?”  Lola pressed, then spun in place to show off the pretty billowing of her floor length peasant style skirt. 

Maggie laughed.  “Maybe I’m here to see you!”  She deflected, her eyes catching the stack of coloring books and the box of crayons over on the table in the breakfast nook.  “What are you coloring?  Can I see?”

Lola brightened and bounced off toward the nook with glee.  “I have four different ones.”  She explained.  “There’s one that’s princesses—it has every princess and all the dresses and some of the princes too.”  Maggie trailed after the girl and tilted her head to follow along as Lola flipped through a coloring book of Disney princesses.

“I’ll go hang these up.”  Grey said, uninterested in the coloring books, and evidently uninterested in sticking by her side this evening. 

Maggie nodded.  She’d have to learn to fend for herself in Delaney country sometime or other.  Afterall, she was Maggie Delaney now, wasn’t she?  She had every right to be here, standing in this kitchen, interacting with her boss’ daughter, unaccompanied by an escort.

Why did she still feel like such an imposter?

“Plus I have this one, there’s almost no room left in this one ‘uhcause I had it since I was little.”

Maggie repressed the urge to laugh.  If this girl got any littler she might just disappear.  She was a peanut.

“You’ve done a great job with that one.”  Maggie told her earnestly, looking at the wild scribbles on every page.

Lola tossed it away from herself and grabbed up the next one.  “This one is all the gods and goddesses.”  She informed Maggie.  “Nobody else in my kindergarten even has this one.  This is from India.”

“Wow.”  Maggie breathed, looking at all the magical creatures and figures on the pages.

“Yeah.  My Daddajee and Didima are from India.”  The girl turned her midnight black eyes up to Maggie and seemed to be waiting for her response.

Maggie wasn’t quite sure what the girl had just said, but she’d have guessed maybe she was referring to her grandparents.  “Wow.”  Maggie repeated, allowing her awe to color her tone.  “I’ve never been to India, have you?”

Lola looked pleased that Maggie was suitably impressed.  “No, not yet, but Dadajee and Didi tell me all the stories.  My Mummy has been lots of times and my Uncle Sanjay too.”

Maggie smiled.  “Has your Daddy been?”  It was wild to see this side of Nolan Delaney’s life.

Lola nodded vigorously.  “They went for a wedding present.  We’re all gunna go soon I think.”

Maggie raised her eyebrows and murmured about how exciting that sounded.  Then Lola moved on to show off her ‘most favoritest’ coloring book, this one featuring unicorns and mermaids and other very little-girl targeted illustrations.  She informed Maggie that her Daddy had promised her a unicorn for her birthday.

Her lips twisted into a small smile remembering the day her own father had explained to her that Unicorns had been too foolish to get on Noah’s Ark before the flood.  She’d cried for hours before reconciling the loss of such a marvelous creature.  Then she’d asked her Papa for a pony instead.  He’d agreed to think about it.

The kitchen door swung inward and Maggie saw the little girl scowl before turning herself to see a very elegant older woman breeze into the room.

She smiled at the woman, though she felt rattled to her bones at the prospect of meeting Grey’s grandmother without him at her side.  The woman wore a heart-stopping diamond necklace and dizzying diamond teardrops at her ears, as well as a diamond tennis bracelet and several more gaudy rings than were strictly necessary.  Her suit was of unmistakable quality, though Maggie didn’t know the first thing about brands and wouldn’t have been able to tell if it was Chanel or Yves St. Laurent or what.  It was knit and looked almost as if it might be armored—steel gray with ice blue threading.  She was slim and rigid, not too tall, but she looked formidable despite her slight frame.

The woman did not return the smile.  She raised an imperious eyebrow as she glanced over Maggie from head to toe.  Then she called over Maggie’s shoulder to Lola.

“That mother of yours is looking for you child.  Best get yourself out of the way and see what it is she wants.”

Maggie’s eyes widened.  The woman’s voice was just as chilly as her outward appearance would suggest, and there didn’t seem to be a drip of friendliness or warmth in her words.  Not even when speaking to a five year old.  Maggie swallowed hard as she felt Lola rising from her seat to obey the less than polite dismissal.

“She’s not in the way over here.”  Maggie assured the woman.

“Don’t be absurd, children ought not to be underfoot in the kitchen while food is being prepared.”

Maggie couldn’t imagine disagreeing with that sentiment more.  Her happiest memories of her mother were all set in their little family kitchen or in the kitchen at the restaurant.  Helping her mother prepare meals or bake desserts was part of the fabric of her understanding of family, of hearth and home.

Lola sidled up to Maggie’s leg, hesitant and unsure.

“Why don’t you go see what your Mummy wants and then maybe you can come back and color, ok?”  Maggie said in a kind, friendly voice.

Lola looked disappointed but she nodded and then scooted toward the kitchen door, swinging in a wide arc to keep as far away from the older woman as possible.

“Do you also nanny?”  The woman asked Maggie.

Maggie wished her brain didn’t feel so sluggish.  Also nanny?  “No, but I have a lot of young cousins.”  She answered with a smile.

The woman made a small snort.  “I could have guessed that much.”

Maggie felt her cheeks flush.  She opened her mouth to make a more formal introduction when the woman waved a dismissive hand and gestured to the various platters laid out on the kitchen island.

“I’m not sure which ones she wants to go out first, my guess is the pâté, so grab up a tray and get out there—we’re only waiting on the queer uncle, so I imagine it’s time to start.”   She turned on her expensive heel and pushed the kitchen door open, but paused.

“I’m so relieved you speak English, that will make everything easier.”  But she didn’t sound relieved, she sounded condescending and harassed.

Then she was gone.  Maggie stared at the gently swinging door and wondered what in heaven had just happened.  Her eyes fell to the covered trays on the counter.  She hoped she could figure out which one was the pâté.  She’d never even seen pâté before.  She thought maybe it was soft, though she couldn’t pull on any solid piece of learning to back that notion up. 

She lifted a few lids and settled on one that looked like grayish mousse on slices of baguette, garnished with what looked to be chives and maybe fig.  She lifted it with a sigh.  How on earth was Mrs. Delaney even related to that aging icicle?

She had a feeling it was going to be a very long evening.

A Very Long Night: part 1

Hey folks.  

Since I've decided to try and keep progressing with the maggie\grey storyline in order as much as possible, things will often get more linear than maybe they have been in the past.  I'll probably still jump wayyy back in time because of all the stuff that went down back in the day that is still shrouded in mystery, and I'll jump around to different storylines of course, like a soap, but mostly we're trudging forward on the path to avalon's wedding and the thrilling aftermath because there's alot in store for our beloved residents of Cedar Falls, USA (wink wink to Danielle:)

So.  Another family dinner, you say?  yeah.  sorry.  Velvet likes to throw parties.  

This is the first little snippet from the big Delaney meet & greet for Maggie.  I'm trying to keep them short and -well, not sweet, but scrumptious?  

Shrug.  Sigh.  Whatevs.

Enjoy.

"This is going to be a long night"

*******************

Zahra’s husband was tense.  He was doing his best to behave as if nothing was bothering him, but she knew him better than that.  He was never short with the children, not even when he was agitated, but tonight he was, well, not short precisely, but, distracted?

“Then also can I please have a baby unicorn?”  It was the third outlandish and impossible item Lola had asked to be added to her ever-lengthening birthday wish list.

And he’d nodded absently.  “Sure thing baby.”

Zahra narrowed her brows as her daughter squealed with glee in the back seat. 

“What?!”  Shrieked Keer, scandalized.  “Daddy, she can’t have a baby unicorn!” Their eldest protested hotly.

“Yes I can!”  Countered Lola’s piping little voice.  “Daddy said!”

“Daddy, can I have a Pegasus?”  Ajay queried, sensing this to be a good opportunity to ask for mythical beasts.

“We’ll see.”  Nolan responded calmly.

Zahra heard Keer groan exasperatedly in the back.  “No Ajay, you can’t even have one because there’s no such thing!”  She was in a very literal phase at the moment and had little tolerance for all things magical or fanciful.

“If Lola gets to have a unicorn then I can too have a Pegasus.”  Ajay reasoned, and Zahra could imagine the glower he was giving his older sister.

“Yeah, you can have one.”  Agreed Lola generously.

“They don’t exist!”  exclaimed Keer, ready to explode.

“Nolan?”  Zahra asked him quietly, under the bickering in the backseat.

“Hm?  He responded vaguely, hitting the blinker and turning into the posh residential neighborhood of Cedar Crest.

“You ok?”

“Sure.  ‘Course.”

“Daddy, don’t they exist?!?!”  Ajay demanded from the back.

“Of course they do.”  His father replied dispassionately.

“Mom!”  Keer countered.

Zahra sighed.  “I’m not sure we have room in the house for a Pegasus, or a unicorn for that matter.”  She replied diplomatically.  This answer caused Lola to wail, Ajay to grumble and Keer to tisk with a great deal of attitude.  “They’re really much happier when they get to roam free, guys.”  She told them gently.  “Besides, what ever do they eat?”

“Skittles.”  Lola responded readily.  “And stardust too I think.”

“I think Pegasus eats dragonflies.  And carrots.”  Ajay said thoughtfully.

“They don’t eat anything because they AREN’T REAL!”  Keer shouted.

“Keer, watch the volume please.”  Her father said, not hearing what she’d said, only seeming to register the tone and size of it.

“This is ridiculous.”  She spat.

Zahra rolled her eyes and allowed them to bicker further about skittles and myth while she watched her husband’s profile.  He was scowling at the road in front of them. 

They were on their way to his brother’s for a big family dinner.  They were going to be introduced to Grey’s new bride. 

News of the elopement had surprised Zahra.  “I thought they broke up?”  She’d asked her husband that evening a week or so ago when he’d come home and told her about their nephew’s out-of-the-blue marriage to one of his employees. 

“They did.”  He’d answered, sounding irritable and uptight.  “I’ll have to be at the shop more this week—Velvet arranged a honeymoon for them I guess, and she needs the week off.”

Zahra had stared at him curiously.  “You’re not happy about this.”

“No.”  He’d answered as he’d slipped off his shoes and begun unbuttoning his shirt.

“How come?”  She’d moved to him and begun to knead at some of the tension bunching his shoulders.

“Nnnnnn.  That’s good.” He’d moaned.  “Because she’s a nice girl and he’s an asshole.” 

She’d smacked him lightly on the back.  “That’s your nephew!”

“Yeah, that’s how I know he’s no good for her.”

Zahra had kissed him where his collar met his skin and felt him sigh.  “Who are we to judge where love strikes?”  She’d asked gently.

“It wasn’t love that struck Zee, it was his—something else.”  He’s spun under her hands to face her and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead while pulling her body to his.  “I’m pretty certain she’s pregnant.”

“Oh.”  Zahra’d responded.  “Well.”

“Yeah.”

“Do people still do that anymore?  Get married because of that?”

“She comes from a pretty strict Catholic upbringing, from what I can tell.”  He’d responded, sounding drained and leaden.  He’d been in a sour mood all that night.  His face and body coiled and stretched just a bit too thin, his conversation vague, his mind preoccupied, his stormy eyes dustant and unreadable.  Not at all unlike this evening.

“Plus, besides, Daddy already said I was a princess and a princess neeeeeeds a unicorn or else!”  Lola’s tiny voice had a great deal of power behind it, and the decibel and pitch of it was cutting right into Zahra’s skull.

“Ok, listen up guys.”  Zahra said in her all-business tone, turning around in her seat and fixing them each with a warning stare one by one.  Three pairs of eyes looked up at her expectantly.  Nolan was turning the van into the driveway.  “I want you all on your very best behavior.”  They all nodded solemnly.  “I mean it.”  She cautioned.  “No more bickering, no more arguing, no more yelling or annoying eachother—or anyone else either.  Got that?”

They cast sideways glances at one another and eventually all three nodded or mumbled agreement. 

“We’re meeting a new member of the family tonight, like Daddy told you, and you all know about first impressions.”

“I met her already!”  Gloated Lola jubilantly.

“That’s true, but you still need to be on your best behavior.” Her mother explained.

“She’s nice.”  The girl assessed with finality.  “And pretty.”  She added.

Zahra raised her eyebrows.  “Have I got everyone’s word?”  She asked them all.

A chorus of yeses sounded from the back as she turned to her husband.  He was staring blankly at the big house, patiently waiting until she’d finished her riot act.

“You ready?”  she asked him.

A muscle jumped in his jaw.  “Yup.”

Zahra bit down a snappish comment and recognized that it was going to be a very long evening.

Zahra Delaney

How's Sunday treating you?

I've been sitting on this one for a little while so that I could post THE DINNER. I'm really excited about sharing this one.

This is Nolan's wife Zahra. You can see her in one of the author's favorite vignettes here and here a little, and more naughtily here... but this is the first time we're hearing her voice.

This vignette is pretty much 'present' day Cedar Falls.

I really really hope you enjoy it as much as do!

**********************

“But don’t you think I COULD be a princess next time?” 

Zahra Delaney sighed.  Her youngest child was stubborn, and as romantic as her father.  “It doesn’t work like that.”  She said with unending patience. 

“Daddy said I might.”  She countered, tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes.

Zahra had to make a great effort to keep her face neutral.  She had an urge to smile and an equal urge to roll her eyes.  But she kept her expression bland and patient.  “Lola bunny”  She said “Daddy likes to spin tales for you.”

The glare she received from her daughter made her chuckle.

“Don’t Laugh!” Scolded Lola in a fit of pride.  “He said!”  She insisted doggedly.  “He said I might be a magical princess in a far-off kingdom with birds and riches and as many puppies as I want—“

“Riches?”  Interrupted her mother gently.  “What are riches?”

Lola looked blank.  “They’re pretty.”  She said defensively.

“Yes but what are they?”  Zahra pressed, unable to totally suppress the curving of her lips.

“Horses?” Lola tried.

Zahra turned the supermarket cart down the cereal aisle, shaking her head with amusement.  “Riches means money and jewels and fine silks and art.”  She explained.

“Treasure!”  Exclaimed her daughter, a pirate-y gleam flashing in her midnight dark eyes.

“Mmmmhmmm.”  She answered, trying to decide between two boxes.  “Whose turn is it?”  She asked her daughter.

“Mine.”  Lola lied boldly.

Zahra looked askance at the girl.  “Why is it always your turn when we come to the market?” 

Lola’s face turned impish, and Zahra was overwhelmed with how much like her father the diminutive little girl could look.  It was the same look the girl’s older brother used to make on a daily basis.  Zahra put her eyes on the cereal boxes in her hands and she tried to see the flashy cartoon mascots, tried to focus on the catchy names, but for a moment all she could see was her son.  The mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he would try to pull a fast one, the charming grin that he’d flash to get his way, and that impish twist to his lips when he knew he was putting his toe over the line. 

She was aware of Lola’s piping voice but she wasn’t registering any of what the girl was saying.  She tried, she really did, but for the life of her she couldn’t make herself hear Lola, not really.  Because it was another voice she heard, a man’s, telling her once again that her son was dead.

“Mamma!”  It was the forceful poke in her ribs that brought Zahra rushing back to the reality of the present. 

“Don’t you do that.”  She scolded, agitated and still half distracted and ashamed of both.

Lola looked at her with wide, hurt eyes and crossed her arms in front of her. 

“I’m sorry bunny, what did you say?”

“Nothing.”  She pouted.

Zahra pulled her lips into a tight ‘oh’, counted to five, and then asked again, more patiently.  “I got distracted.  Tell me what you were saying?”

“Just that maybe I should get a treat for helping you at the market all the time.”

Zahra felt the heaviness that had so quickly and relentlessly stolen across her chest begin to dissipate in part.  She smiled at her daughter, grateful for the girl’s ability to ground her and buoy her all at once.  “A trip to the market isn’t reward enough?”  She teased, “You seek riches?”

Lola grinned and Zahra’s heart skipped a beat at the resemblance, but she needed to stay present, didn’t want to allow herself to succumb to the pull of that other place.  She was here.  Now.  She didn’t want to disappear.

It had been more than three years.  She very infrequently went to that ‘place’ any more.  But his birthday was coming up and so he’d been on her mind more than usual. And she couldn’t remember whose turn it was for cereal because he was missing from the rotation.  She never used to have any trouble with it. 

“…Because I’m a secret princess?”

Damn.  She’d slipped again.  She nodded, aware that with that nod she’d likely reinforced some silly nonsense of Nolan’s and given the girl the idea that maybe she’d been reincarnated in this life as a little American girl but that she’d been a powerful princess in one of her previous lives.  “Pick your favorite.”  She said, and swallowed.  With a shaking sigh she put both the boxes from her hands into the carriage as well, Keer’s favorite and Ajay’s favorite both, and it did not go unnoticed by her youngest.

“Why?”  She asked, a little in awe.  Rules were rules.  One cereal a week.  Favorites rotated. 

Zahra shrugged.  “Why not?”

Lola’s little eyebrows shot up.  “Can I pick two?”

Zahra laughed deeply.  “Tell you what,”  She said, when she was able to, “You can pick one for you and pick one out for Daddy too.”

Lola bounced up and down and ran off down the aisle, tasked with a quest, and Zahra reprimanded herself for being so dangerously reckless.  What if Lola had slipped away while she was daydreaming?  What if she’d wandered off and been taken because her mother was indulging in memories that ought to stay buried and undisturbed?  She shivered and watched the little girl’s contemplations in the region of the shredded wheat.  “Your father isn’t an old man!” Zahra called, with a laugh, “He won’t touch that stuff!”

Lola giggled.  “Daa-Daa-Jee has that at his house.”  She reasoned, wrinkling her nose.

“Exactly.”  Zahra nodded.  “And your grandfather is old.”  The two shared a laugh at Zahra’s father’s expense.

Lola washed over consternated.  “I guess I don’t know what cereal is his favorite.”  This realization seemed to distress her daughter.  Lola liked to think herself something of an expert on Nolan Delaney.

Zahra made a sympathetic face and then smiled.  “How would you know?  We never get to have our favorites, do we?  It’s always for you kids!”

Lola’s mouth fell open.  “You like cereal?”  The very concept seemed to be absurd or fantastical to the girl.

Zahra laughed quietly.  “Before you kids were born your father and I ate cereal every day.”  She exaggerated, taking on the same tone of voice she’d use to retell fairy tales and creation stories.  “In fact, my idea of a perfect night was curling up next to your Daddy on the couch, each with a bowl of cereal, and watching a movie.”

Lola looked as if she wasn’t quite sure she could believe this, it sounded so made-up.  “What was your favorite then?”  she quizzed.

Zahra thought about having her guess, but it was getting late enough already and if she wanted to finish up and get home to start dinner she’d need to hurry them along as it was.  She back-tracked up the aisle and reached for a box.  “This was definitely one of them.”  She said nostalgically.  “I ate this all the time when I was pregnant with your sister.”

“Really?”  Lola squeeled.  “I like that one too!” 

Zahra knew this, and would usually sneak a bowl whenever Lola chose this cereal for her ‘favorite’. 

“What did you eat when you were having me?”  She piped exuberantly.  One of Lola’s main interests was herself—how she’d been born, what she’d been like as a baby, the amusing things she’d done in her toddling years that she couldn’t remember. 

“Mangoes.”  Zahra replied without hesitation, to which Lola responded with a gleeful trill.  And then “And spinach.”  That was a lie. 

Lola pulled a disgusted face.  “No!”

Zahra nodded.  “Absolutely.”  She kept her face serious and her voice perfectly earnest.  “Palak Paneer, Aloo Palak, Green Poori, even raw spinach salad—“

“Yuck!”  Lola was thoroughly repulsed by the notion.

“That’s why I don’t understand why you won’t eat it now.”  Explained Zahra, “Because you couldn’t get enough of it when you were growing inside me.” 

She hadn’t eaten an exceptional amount of the stuff while she was pregnant, she’d craved certain spinach dishes once or twice, but nothing out of the ordinary.  But Lola was a frustratingly picky eater, and her abhorrence of spinach was making her mother’s menu planning unduly difficult.

“I must have been crazy.”  Reasoned Lola, her face still scrunched with disgust.

“I think you’re crazy now, bun.”

Lola stuck her tongue out and Zahra raised her eyebrows high and pursed her lips to keep from smiling.  She was incorrigible.  “I’ll cut out that tongue if I ever catch it.”  She cautioned her.

Lola laughed brightly and did a pretty twirl.  “Help me pick one for Daddy.”

Zahra sighed and took a moment to acknowledge how warm and peaceful her heart was feeling once again.  As soon as she could capture that little wisp she’d give her a grateful squeeze.  She was a perfect blessing.  She moved to put the cereal box back and hesitated, the box in limbo between carriage and shelf.  “What the hell?”  She asked herself and then tossed it into the cart.  They’d have an inordinate glut of breakfast cereal for the next couple weeks.  There were worse things, she supposed.  She’d go but some extra bananas and oranges to feel better about the poor dietary decision.  And she’d need more milk. 

“Good afternoon Mrs. Delaney.” 

Zahra turned toward the pleasant greeting, a ready smile, and froze.  “Raisin Bran.”  She called to her daughter, her voice tight.  “Hello Doctor Sloan.”  She said rather rigidly.  “What brings you to Cedar Falls?”  Zahra wondered if she were still lost in some sick daydream.  She glanced over to where Lola was trying to reach a box of raisin bran from a shelf much taller than herself.

“I’m moving my practice.”  The woman responded casually, and Zahra’s heart clenched. 

“They’re opening a clinic?—“

“No, no, no.”  Assured Dr. Sloane quickly.  “No, it’ll be primarily Ob\Gyn.”

Zahra nodded and swallowed the thick lump forming in her throat.  The two women stared at each other for a moment. 

“Do you have family here?”  Zahra managed to ask, working hard to overcome the awkwardness, the panic, the ice-cold flood of despair and guilt coursing through her veins at the sight of this woman.

“I grew up here, yeah, My Parents are still here and my sister.  I haven’t been back in ages though, they usually come to the city to visit me!” As the Doctor answered she moved deftly toward Lola and lifted down the box into outstretched hands.  Zahra knew her daughter well enough to know the girl would be sorely disappointed with the assistance. But she shot her a warning glance and the little girl understood its meaning.  “Thank you.”  She said, and while her mother could hear the begrudging obstinance in it she doubted the doctor perceived it.

“No problem” the green-eyed beauty told the little sprite with a pleasant smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know any Sloans, I don’t think.  I didn’t know you were from around here.”  It wasn’t the doctor’s fault Zahra never wanted to see her again, she didn’t deserve to be given the cold shoulder.

“Oh Sloan’s my married name—well, divorced now, but I kept the name since it’s on all my medical degrees and what not!”  She laughed and Zahra forced a smile.

“Mamma?”

Zahra looked down into her daughter’s deep, dark eyes.  “Lola this is my friend Dr. Sloan.”  She said, answering the girl’s unasked question.  “She used to be my doctor.”

Lola extended her hand in the confident, comfortable way she’d learned from her father and Dr. Sloan laughed, a little surprised and probably a little impressed. 

“Hello Lola, It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  Her tone was friendly, but not condescending.

“Nice to meet your quaintance.”  Replied Lola seriously.  “What kind of doctor are you?”

Dr. Sloan’s eyes met Zahra’s.  “She’s a doctor like your Uncle Sam—she helps mothers and babies.”  Zahra explained, her heart beating uncomfortably in her breast.

Lola’s face lit up.  “That’s what I want to be!”  She declared passionately.  Zahra clucked her tongue.  Lola must have expressed her desire to be almost every profession at one point or another.

“Really?”  Dr. Sloan asked, again surprised and impressed.

Lola nodded vigorously.  “And Also though, did you know that I might be a princess?”

“Is that so?”

“Mmmhmm, yup, and also, too, I already was one.”

“For Halloween?”

Lola rolled her eyes.  “No, for REAL.”

“Oh, pardon me.”  Said the Doctor, appropriately contrite.  “You were one?”

“In another life!”

Doctor Sloan’s eyes glazed over for a beat and then she looked like she could have slapped her forehead.  She blushed a little.  Zahra wished WASPS didn’t always feel so damned guilty about their cultural ignorance.  “Of course.”  Replied Doctor Sloan earnestly.  “I wonder what I might have been.” She indulged.

Zahra shuddered as she pictured where the doctor might end up in her next life.  Or maybe all the safe deliveries helped balance the other procedures?  She couldn’t be sure, she was no theologian.

“Do you like animals?”  Lola queried.

“I love animals.”  Replied the doctor readily.  “I have two cats.”

Lola looked more than a little envious.  “Then I think you were a Vet!”

Zahra sighed.  That, she supposed, seemed a perfectly logical combination, didn’t it? “Lola, bunny, will you run down the end and grab us some oatmeal?”

Lola did three twirls, a little hop, and a frilly hand flourish before dashing off toward the oatmeal with a ‘zoom’ noise.  The girl always perked up tenfold and became showy when she met new people.

“She’s beautiful Mrs. Delaney.”  Dr. Sloan murmured, also following the girl’s skipping progress.

“Zahra, please.” 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I was really just glad to see a familiar face.”  The doctor said soberly.  “It was insensitive, maybe?  I apologize.” 

Zahra looked at the attractive doctor, who was even younger than herself, and she smiled sadly.  “Please don’t apologize Doctor.  You helped me.”  Her tongue felt clumsy.  She wanted to express herself better but she wasn’t feeling especially articulate.  “But my husband, no one, knows—“

“I was your Gynecologist for a brief time Zahra, nothing more needs to be said.”  She smiled a small, friendly smile and her eyes were sympathetic.  “And please; Cassidy.”  She said, putting a hand to her chest.

“Is this the right kind?”  Lola asked, and even before turning Zahra could tell from the girl’s tone that it would not be the right kind.    Knew it would have artificial strawberries and maple sugar and chocolate or some other kid-friendly flavor enhancers. 

“When will you be set up?  In practice?”  Zahra asked, thinking maybe she’d switch.  If she were to be completely honest about it, she preferred a female OB\GYN and only went to Sam Bennett because he was a close family friend. 

“Oh probably two more weeks and I’ll be ready to go.”  She said, her smile widening.  “I’ve leased space pretty near the town center.”

Zahra groaned inwardly.  She wanted to be in direct competition with Sam.  She glanced down at Lola who was tapping her costume-ruby-slippered foot in a display of dramatic impatience.  “No Bun, you know better.”  She said gently and pointed back down the aisle.

“And where are you living?” She asked the Doctor.

“I got a townhouse in the old factory district.”  She replied.

Zahra grinned.  “My brother in law lives there.”  That was where Nolan had been living when they’d met and fallen in love.  When she’d curled up on the couch with cereal and her lover and watched old movies. 

They were quiet for a moment and Zahra realized she should ask the doctor over for dinner or lunch sometime.  She almost did, out of compulsory politeness.  But then the image of the last time they’d met flashed in her memory.  The grief, the anxiety, the guilt and the shame.  And that reminded her of why she’d done what she’d done, why she’d sought out a Doctor like Dr. Sloan; and a series of images flipped through her mind like an out-of-control movie reel gone haywire.

Cole’s beautiful, mischievous face, his laugh that could make a stone statue smile. Then his face as it appeared on the operating table, with all that vitality drained and absent.  Nolan.  Nolan destroying himself.  Broken and lost and estranged.  The funeral.  The flowers.  The baby—Lola had been so tiny still, and Ajay, and Keer, confused and needing, and adrift.  And the crying and the grief and the bitter arguments and her own face in the mirror, the dark circles, the un-brushed hair, the despair.  Then the morning she saw the pink plus symbol--

And she couldn’t have the woman over for dinner.

Their life was so much better now.  They were a family again.  They were happy and healthier and moving on, and functioning, and loving every single day.  Grateful and generous with each other, and good, and she knew she couldn’t do anything to jeopardize it in the slightest.  Because she’d seen how terribly, horribly fragile it all could be, and she wasn’t about to lose the new balance they’d struck.

“Good Luck with everything Doctor.”  Zahra said, a little more abruptly than she’d intended.  “I hope you settle in nicely.”  She added, trying to smooth over the obvious brush-off.  “I hope to see you soon.”  It wasn’t true.  She hoped the woman might disappear and never again remind her of that awful, awful time in her life.

The Doctor tilted her head just slightly to the side and blinked, her friendly smile slipping fractionally.  Then she composed her features into a perfectly genial expression, nodded, and it was understood between them.  No hard feelings, but it would be too painful, probably, to be anything more than strictly professional.  It was too bad, Zahra thought, because Dr. Sloan, Cassidy, seemed like she might be a good friend.

“It was great seeing you again Mrs. Delaney.”  The woman said amiably.  “Be gentle with yourself.”  She added softly, looking deep into Zahra’s eyes with an understanding and compassion that stole her breath.  Then “Goodbye Lola!”  She Called.  “It was great to meet you.”

Lola waved rapidly as she scooted once more toward her mother’s carriage, carrying an appropriately mundane cylinder of oatmeal.  “Bye Dr. Kittens!”  She responded and then erupted in a peal of self amused giggles.

Zahra flushed but Dr. Sloan looked completely delighted.  “I like kittens a lot more than I like my ex-husband!”  She said with a wry tone of voice before departing the cereal aisle without adding anything to the plastic basket she carried.

Zahra’s knees felt a little wobbly and her stomach was twisting uncomfortably.  She ran down the list of what remained to be gathered and knew she’d never be able to do it, not feeling the way she did right then. 

“What do you say we have cereal for dinner tonight?”  She asked Lola brightly.

“Reallyyyyyyy?!”

Zahra nodded.  She’d made the executive decision.  Setting her carriage toward the milk she decided she’d try to tackle the market again tomorrow.  “And watch a movie.”