Fallen Elements (16 page)

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Authors: Heather McVea

Tags: #baltimore, #lesbian paranormal romance, #witch and love, #elemental fantasy romance, #urban adult fantasy

BOOK: Fallen Elements
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“Leah invited me to the O’s game next
Saturday, and I was responding to her text.” Ryan was focusing on
her phone, and highlighted the
Home Slyce
contact before
hitting the call button. Her eyes down, she didn’t see the frown on
Jenny’s face before the woman stood and left the bedroom.

After ordering their customary large
pepperoni and bell pepper pizza, Ryan pulled on her jeans and
t-shirt. Wandering into the living room, Ryan smiled at one of the
few features in the house she liked. A fireplace sat on the far
wall of the room. Its hearth was a light granite and the mantel
face was tarnished steel plates that ran from the floor to the
ceiling.

“The pizza should be here in about forty five
minutes.” Ryan sat down on the brown leather sofa, and reached for
the television remote.

“Fine.” Jenny was sitting at the brushed
steel dining room table. Her tone was curt, prompting Ryan to mute
the television.

“Everything okay?” Ryan leaned forward.

Jenny shrugged. “Your birthday is next
Saturday. I had thought we would spend the day together.”

Ryan grimaced. She hadn’t forgotten her
twenty seventh birthday was rapidly approaching, but she had
forgotten it was the Saturday of the game. “I totally forgot.”

Jenny huffed, but still hadn’t looked up at
Ryan. “How can you forget your own birthday?”

Ryan laid the remote down on the sofa, and
walked over to sit with Jenny at the dining room table. “I meant I
forgot it was
that
Saturday.” Ryan thought the decent thing
to do would be to text Leah and tell her she couldn’t make it after
all, but spending the day with Leah trumped Ryan’s urge to appease
Jenny.

“I’m sure Nicole has something planned.”
Jenny stated, her eyes focused on her work.

Seeing an opportunity to lighten the mood,
Ryan smiled. “Is that it? Nic has a party planned and you were
supposed to get me there?”

Jenny looked up. “Seriously? That would have
involved your roommate and me saying more than three words to each
other.”

Ryan leaned back in the chair, the narrow
slats digging into her shoulder blades. “I guess you wouldn’t tell
me anyway.”

“Nothing to tell.” Jenny thumbed through a
stack of papers, marking every other page with a red ballpoint
pen.

“Why are you mad?” Ryan opted for the direct
route. She and Jenny had always been good at being honest with each
other. They had decided it was the only way their open relationship
would ever work.

“I just didn’t realize you and Leah were
friendly enough to spend your birthday together.” Jenny slid
several papers between the ends of her black Swingline stapler, and
forcibly slammed her palm down, securing the staple.

Ryan looked cautiously at Jenny, the woman’s
irritation obvious. “Like I said, I forgot Saturday was my
birthday.”

“And you know her how again?” Jenny dropped
the ballpoint pen on the table.

“She knew my family.” Ryan was hesitant to
share anymore. She didn’t fully understand Leah’s history with the
Myers, and she didn’t want to get into a game of twenty questions
with Jenny.

Nodding, Jenny picked her pen back up and
tucked it into the corner of her mouth. “So she was friends with
your mother?”

Ryan nodded, not sure where the conversation
was going.

“She’s got to be what - forty five - forty
six?” Jenny looked at Ryan expectantly.

“Something like that. You know it’s
considered rude to ask a woman her age.” Ryan grinned, wanting
desperately to end the exchange.

Jenny pursed her lips. “Right.” She turned
her attention back to her work. “Be careful, Ryan. You may have a
cougar on your hands.”

Ryan didn’t like feeling as if Jenny were
attempting to goad her into an argument, and she certainly wasn’t
interested in having one about Leah. “The game isn’t until the
afternoon. Let’s do breakfast or brunch.”

The corner of Jenny’s mouth turned up. “I’ll
check my calendar.”

 

 

 

Chapter 8

“You’re home sooner than I expected.” Nicole
was sitting at the dining room table, the glow of her laptop screen
the only light in the dimly lit space.

“Yeah, I’m tired, and thought I’d make an
early night of it.” Ryan hung her leather bag from one of the hooks
near the door.

“Jenny called.” Nicole didn’t look up from
the laptop, but the amused smirk on her face told Ryan she
suspected all was not well.

“And you actually answered?” Ryan attempted
to distract her roommate.

“I evidently have a masochistic streak.”
Nicole closed the laptop and turned her attention to Ryan. “She
sounded tense. I mean more so than the usual stick up her ass
warrants.”

Ryan walked into the kitchen and got a
bottled water from the refrigerator. “I take it back, Jenny and you
are getting married, not you and Greg.”

Nicole was standing in the entrance to the
kitchen. “I’m not telling you I would never vacation on your side
of the street, but not with that one.”

“What did she say, Nic?” Ryan took a drink of
her water as she leaned against the counter.

“She said to tell you she is available for
breakfast Saturday, and to give her a call.” Nicole took the
bottled water from Ryan, taking a long drink.

“Cool.” Ryan didn’t want to get into the
details with Nicole, and she wasn’t sure she was going to take
Jenny up on her delayed acceptance of what had actually been Ryan’s
invitation.

Nicole nodded, a suspicious expression on her
face. “So what are you doing for your birthday? I thought Greg,
you, and I could pop out for dinner and drinks in Fells Point.”

Ryan walked past Nicole, reclaiming her water
before she left the kitchen. “Leah’s asked me to an Orioles’ game
and I figured I may as well go, but we can do a late dinner.”

Nicole followed Ryan to the foot of the
stairs. “Leah? That seems promising.”

Ryan rested her hand on the banister. “What’s
promising?”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Never mind, be that
way. Clearly you’re in a mood.”

Ryan blew Nicole an exaggerated kiss and
bounded up the stairs to her bedroom. Kicking off her shoes, Ryan
laid down on her bed. She didn’t want to spend the next hour
thinking about Leah, so she reached for the leather bound diary
laying on her nightstand.

***
10 March 1628

The fear that had all but left me, thanks to
Margery’s constant reassurances that my child was well, has once
again settled heavily upon my shoulders and wears at my heart.

These past three days there has been a
perpetual sourness in my stomach that, in spite of her best
efforts, Margery and her medicines have not been able to abate. I
know something is wrong even though Margery assures me it is not
uncommon to experience these sorts of ailments throughout a
pregnancy.

The treatments seem to make it worse, and my
stomach has begun to sour in anticipation when Margery arrives. She
feels terrible for me, and stays as long as she can in an effort to
reassure me. I am sad for her as her mother has taken ill, and I do
not wish to keep her any longer than is necessary.

Just this morning I encouraged Margery to
leave, and spend the morning with Goody Sebille. Margery’s face
grew pale, and I could see there was something more to her story.
After several minutes she finally confided in me that she fears the
town will not honor the original conditions of her family’s
contract, and she and her younger sister Abigail may be homeless
should her mother pass.

The very thought of Margery being turned out
angered me, and I assured her I would speak to Isaac. I cannot
imagine this is what the court intends as the Sebille family was
among the earliest settlers of our grand colony. Their passage
secured by the very contract Margery now fears will be voided upon
her mother’s death.

***
12 March 1628

I am feeling better today, and managed to
get enough time with Isaac to discuss Margery’s situation. I was
surprised that my husband was aware of the contract dispute, and
had not thought to tell me. Though, if I am honest with myself,
since Isaac took his position in the Governor’s office, he has been
more occupied with his responsibilities to the community at large,
than to our family.

I do not resent this absence as I know he is
a very important man, but I do wish the carefree days of our past
were once again upon us. Isaac takes his obligations very
seriously. The irony being his commitment to the colony, and being
a positive public servant, are but a few of many things I love and
admire about him.

Never one to disappoint, Isaac did agree to
discuss the Sebilles’ situation with the court, and provide
character testimony as to how very valuable the services the family
provides the community are.

***
14 March 1628

Margery arrived today with her younger
sister Abigail. I am sorry to say that having felt better for the
past two days, the sourness in my stomach returned shortly after
the two women arrived. I should consider it good timing as both
Margery and Abigail are fine midwives, and immediately took to the
kitchen and prepared a tea for me made from foraged berries and
herbs.


How do you keep them fresh throughout the
winter?” I asked the sisters as I drank eagerly of the sweet
tea.

Abigail, who I understand is considered
rather beautiful, having already turned down two marriage proposals
at barely the age of sixteen, explained that the family keeps a
small cellar, and the roots are preserved in the dryness of the
space. I inhaled the aroma of the tea deeply, and the warmth of the
liquid did seem to settle my stomach.

I told Margery that I had spoken with Isaac
regarding the matter of their housing contract. This brought dire
news as Margery and Abigail both began to weep. It seems Goody
Sebille had taken a turn for the worse the night before, and
neither daughter held out hope the woman would survive the
week.

I thought myself terrible for not
immediately asking after the woman, and insisted the sisters leave
to spend time with their mother. Truly dedicated, neither would go
until they had attended to my stomach ailment, and ensured I was
comfortably in bed.

It was shortly after finishing the tea that
the sourness in my stomach was replaced by a series of cramps that
brought me to my knees. Abigail and Margery quickly assisted in
getting me to bed, and I feared the worst.


Am I losing the baby?!” I cried out as
Margery laid a blanket over me while Abigail arranged my pillows so
that my head was slightly elevated.


Shh, your child is fine.” Abigail took a
small damp cloth from her sister, and gently stroked my forehead,
beads of sweat gathering as the pain from the cramping rushed
through me.

As soon as the cloth touched my skin, a
coolness spread outward from it. The flush of my cheeks and the
heat that coursed through my body was lessened, and I felt as if I
could breathe again. I do not know what she did as the coolness of
the cloth seemed disproportional to me.

I admit though to being frightened, but at
the same time elated that my skin no longer burned and the cramping
in my stomach had diminished.


Do you want Abigail to stay with you?”
Margery had asked, the concern and compassion evident in her
voice.

Needing nothing more than rest at that
point, I thanked the two women, and insisted they leave and tend to
their mother. Margery hesitated, and it was Abigail that finally
spoke up and said she would return to check on me later that
afternoon as Margery made her calls to three other pregnant women
in the town.

With that reassurance, and after pouring me
another cup of tea, the two sisters left. I drank the tea, and
within a few minutes it squelched the sourness in my stomach, and I
was able to sleep.

***
16 March 1628

The situation with Goody Sebille has become
dire. According to Isaac, prior to taking ill she had drafted a
letter to the court in which she called portions of her family’s
contract due immediately. Now, I do not understand the intricacies
of business matters, but Isaac assures me this is very unusual, and
the primary reason the court was attempting to terminate the
family’s contract.

I could not imagine Margery was aware of
this circumstance as she would no doubt think it unfair of her
mother to put undue burden on the town. Nonetheless, Isaac promises
me mother and daughters signed the letter to the court, and he has
no interest in intervening.

When pressed about what conditions the
family had sought to have paid in full, Isaac became
uncharacteristically agitated, and swiftly told me it was none of
my never mind. So shocked by his assertion, I was rendered
speechless, and before I could find my voice again, my husband had
retired to his study for the evening.

***

Pickles Pub was located less than fifty yards
from the entrance to Camden Yards. The pub was a popular place for
locals to gather to watch their favorite sports teams, or for fans
of the Orioles to meet up before a game.

“It’s called an Orange Crush.” Ryan raised
her voice over the noise of the crowded bar. “You get it, orange
crush - Orioles?”

Leah laughed. “I get it.” She took a drink of
the vodka laden beverage. The tartness of the orange Crush soda and
lime were cut by the triple sec. “It’s good.”

Ryan was admiring Leah’s gray vintage t-shirt
that had the Orioles’ bird logo stamped across the front. “I like
your shirt.”

Leah smiled and looked down. “Thanks! Yours
is cool, too.” Ryan was wearing an orange, V-neck t-shirt with
block letters that read
Keep Calm We Got Adam Jones
.

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