Fortunately, that thought, combined with my nose, caused the burgeoning wave of anxiety to die out before it ever managed to fully take hold. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was drifting through the house, locked in a battle with the smell of frying bacon as they both fought to overtake one another. That was all it took to remind me the month long nightmare was over.
My stomach rumbled, expressing its displeasure regarding the fact that I still hadn’t eaten since the previous morning. Given that I hadn’t even managed to keep that particular meal down long enough to digest, the growling was not at all unexpected. It wasn’t that I hadn’t had an opportunity to eat; I just hadn’t been especially interested in food, until now that is.
Throwing back the covers, I rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed. I rubbed my eyes then fumbled around on the nightstand for my glasses. Once I had them seated on my face, I stood and trudged into the bathroom before heading out to the kitchen.
“What are you doing up, then?” Felicity asked when I finally came around the corner a few minutes later. The background Celtic lilt in her voice was a welcome sound in my ears.
“Am I not supposed to be?” I asked.
“I was trying not to wake you,” she replied, walking over then slipping her arms in around my waist and laying her head against my shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around her and hugged tightly. “Pinch me so I know I’m not just dreaming this.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You aren’t.”
“That’s good. I don’t think I could handle it if I was.”
“How did you sleep?” she asked.
“Good,” I said, pausing a moment before adding, “I think.”
She pulled back and looked into my face. “You think?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I don’t remember much after… Well, much after sitting down on the couch last night to be honest.”
“That’s because you fell asleep while we were talking.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.”
“So, if I fell asleep on the couch then how did I end up…”
“In the bedroom? I managed to get you up and guide you in there. You know, you actually follow orders very well when you’re asleep.”
I let out a half chuckle. “Yeah. I bet you enjoyed that.”
“It was amusing.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Aye, well it’s probably a good thing you don’t,” she said with a small grin. “Like I said, you follow orders very well.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m joking.”
“Yeah, so you say.”
She grinned again.
“I really am sorry. I finally get you home, and then I pass out on you. Not exactly a homecoming to remember I don’t suppose.”
“It’s okay. You needed the rest.”
“Bacon’s burning,” I told her.
“Ooops!” she said, slipping out of the embrace and hurrying over to the stove.
I stepped over and pulled a mug from the cabinet then filled it with coffee. After a swig I leaned against the counter and offered, “I still shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you.”
“Aye, it was obvious you needed it, Row. You were snoring loud enough to wake the dead.”
“Trust me, they don’t need my help for that.” I took another swallow of coffee then topped off my mug and slid hers across the counter so she could reach it.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile.
“So, what about you?” I asked. “You’re the one we need to be worried about here. How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
There was something in the way she answered that told me otherwise.
“I’m not convinced.”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she focused on placing the finished bacon on a paper towel covered plate and then laying fresh strips into the skillet. When she was finished with that task, she simply continued staring at the pan, occasionally nudging the sizzling meat with a pair of tongs.
“Felicity?” I pressed.
She let out a sigh then looked up at me. “Aye, I’m fine. I really am.”
“Honey, you’re sounding less convincing every time you say it.”
Her shoulders drooped, and she gave her head a barely perceptible shake. “I know.”
“So… Would you like to tell me the truth?”
“I’m not sure what that is, Rowan.”
“Well, what do you think it is?”
“That’s the problem. I’m not even sure what to think, either.”
I silently digested the comment for a short span then asked, “Is it because I did the binding on you?”
“No,” she shook her head to punctuate the reply.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure about that at least. I’ll admit I’m not happy you did it, but I do understand why. The truth is I don’t have the right to be angry with you over that. If you recall, I once did the same thing to you for the very same reasons.”
“That didn’t give me license to do it though.”
“No, it didn’t. But, I would be a hypocrite if I held it against you.”
“Okay… Then, is it something else I did?”
“No. I think it’s probably more the things that I did.”
I shook my head as I said, “You didn’t do those things. Miranda did. You had nothing to do with it. If anyone is to blame for that, it’s me. This never would have happened if I hadn’t done that binding.”
“A binding shouldn’t have caused that, Rowan. Unless you were intentionally binding her to me, which I would find hard to believe.”
“I agree. And, no, I certainly wouldn’t have done it intentionally. But, it still happened, so that means I fucked it up somehow.”
“How?”
“I have no idea. But I must have, otherwise we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation.”
She took a moment to flip over the bacon strips and nudge them about the pan again. Finally, she looked up and said, “It’s not just the things I did, Rowan. It’s everything.”
“Everything covers a lot of area, honey.”
“Aye, it does,” she agreed. “What I mean is, everything that’s happened. The arrest… The time in the hospital… The fact that I suddenly have a half-sister-cousin or whatever who just happens to be a twisted killer. Who, by the way, is the product of my father screwing around on my mother with my aunt, which isn’t something a daughter really needs to find out about her dad. How do I reconcile that?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But, we find a way, and we do it together. And, if we can’t do it alone, we have Helen to help out.”
“I’m… I’m just a little overwhelmed right now.”
“I pretty much got that,” I soothed.
“Aye,” she sighed. “Maybe I should just get us all booked on one of those stupid tabloid talk shows.”
“They’d never go for it,” I told her, trying to interject a bit of humor. “You aren’t nearly strange enough for them.”
“You don’t think so?” she quipped, her voice suddenly taking on a demanding edge. “How about if after we tell them all that, we clue them in that I’m a repressed, closeted dominatrix Witch whose husband has only just discovered after almost fifteen years of marriage that she’d really like to put a dog collar around his neck and explore a few sexual fetishes with him in the bedroom? Do you think maybe that would pique their interest?”
I could tell by the look on her face that she had run directly into a wall of regret the moment the last word flew from her mouth. I paused, trying to think of what I should say. My delay in responding didn’t seem to help the matter because she hung her head and stared at the floor.
“You have me there,” I finally returned. “I think that just might get their attention.”
“This isn’t a joke, Rowan,” she said.
“I know it isn’t,” I replied softly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you.”