I could find in your bathroom. What are you doing?”
“I’m laughing hysterically all alone in the kitchen. There’s coffee. You want some?”
A puzzled smile on his face, John set the tweezers on the counter. “You sit. I’ll get it. What’s so funny?”
Meaghan started giggling again. “Don’t go in the basement for a while.”
John sat down with a mug of coffee. “Why? The witches?”
“Um . . . no, just one witch. And—”
“Is that safe? With the elf?”
“Gretchen zapped it with something and it’s asleep. And Natalie’s got company.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Company who is not a witch?” He smiled. “Is it Brian?”
Meaghan grimaced. Brian still hadn’t relented in his determination that he was done with Natalie. After several months of crying and moping, Natalie had apparently reached the same conclusion. “No, not Brian.”
John squinted, thinking. “She isn’t with a Fahrayan, is she?”
“No.” Meaghan got up and refilled her mug. “You want toast?”
“Okay. Are you going to make me guess?”
Meaghan sighed. “Owen. She’s with Owen.”
He scowled. “The leprechaun? ”
John’s aversion to leprechauns was well known. One crew had tried shaking him down years before for protection money from his honey business, and a different crew had tried to start a loan sharking operation in the Fahrayan refugee camp right after they’d arrived in Eldrich.
“I thought you liked Owen,” Meaghan said. Owen was thoroughly Americanized, and from what little information Meaghan had been able to dig up, appeared to be a legitimate businessman. At least at the moment.
“I do, I suppose. He’s all right for one of them . But as a companion for Natalie?” He swallowed some coffee. “No. It’s all wrong.”
“Why?”
“He’s too—”
“Short? As I recall, when we met, you were only eight inches tall without that magic amulet of yours.”
John scowled. “Yes, but that was different. I was taller . . . looking.”
Meaghan snorted with laughter. “That’s the argument you’re going with?”
John tried not to smile. “I give up. He’s a leprechaun, but other than that, I guess he’s all right.”
Meaghan brought him a plate of toast. “Even the dirt Sid had on him wasn’t that bad.”
John gave her a blank look.
“You know,” Meaghan said. “That supposedly horrible thing he did that got him booted out by the other leprechauns and that Sid acted all scandalized about?”
“What did he do?”
“Stole some magic sword. He gave it back. Everybody got their shorts in a bunch over it, but no harm done, as far as I can tell. Even Sid had to admit it really wasn’t that big a deal and, if Owen hadn’t been a leprechaun, everyone would be over it by now. I think the bigger problem is he’s defying stereotypes. The other leprechauns hate him.”
John’s look brightened. “Why didn’t you say that first? If they hate him, he must be okay.”
Meaghan took his hand. “I missed you. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “I’m sorry if I am pushing.”
“I think I’m ready to tell you what’s going on. I should have a long time ago, but I thought I had to be strong. And I was scared. And you’re not pushing. Not at all.”
John’s smiled at her, but his eyes looked worried. “Okay. I have wondered if I have been too eager.”
Meaghan shook her head. “That’s not the problem. It’s not you. It’s me.”
John’s eyes widened and he squeezed her hand tighter.
The look on his face couldn’t have been any clearer. He might as well have a comic strip thought bubble hanging over his head. She laughed. “Will you relax? I’m not breaking up with you.”
He sighed. “Good. I have heard that said and it’s never good for the one hearing it.”
“Yeah, except I’m not using it as an excuse. You’ve been wonderful. Patient.” She felt the tears begin to prickle. I must be getting better. I
“I’m laughing hysterically all alone in the kitchen. There’s coffee. You want some?”
A puzzled smile on his face, John set the tweezers on the counter. “You sit. I’ll get it. What’s so funny?”
Meaghan started giggling again. “Don’t go in the basement for a while.”
John sat down with a mug of coffee. “Why? The witches?”
“Um . . . no, just one witch. And—”
“Is that safe? With the elf?”
“Gretchen zapped it with something and it’s asleep. And Natalie’s got company.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Company who is not a witch?” He smiled. “Is it Brian?”
Meaghan grimaced. Brian still hadn’t relented in his determination that he was done with Natalie. After several months of crying and moping, Natalie had apparently reached the same conclusion. “No, not Brian.”
John squinted, thinking. “She isn’t with a Fahrayan, is she?”
“No.” Meaghan got up and refilled her mug. “You want toast?”
“Okay. Are you going to make me guess?”
Meaghan sighed. “Owen. She’s with Owen.”
He scowled. “The leprechaun? ”
John’s aversion to leprechauns was well known. One crew had tried shaking him down years before for protection money from his honey business, and a different crew had tried to start a loan sharking operation in the Fahrayan refugee camp right after they’d arrived in Eldrich.
“I thought you liked Owen,” Meaghan said. Owen was thoroughly Americanized, and from what little information Meaghan had been able to dig up, appeared to be a legitimate businessman. At least at the moment.
“I do, I suppose. He’s all right for one of them . But as a companion for Natalie?” He swallowed some coffee. “No. It’s all wrong.”
“Why?”
“He’s too—”
“Short? As I recall, when we met, you were only eight inches tall without that magic amulet of yours.”
John scowled. “Yes, but that was different. I was taller . . . looking.”
Meaghan snorted with laughter. “That’s the argument you’re going with?”
John tried not to smile. “I give up. He’s a leprechaun, but other than that, I guess he’s all right.”
Meaghan brought him a plate of toast. “Even the dirt Sid had on him wasn’t that bad.”
John gave her a blank look.
“You know,” Meaghan said. “That supposedly horrible thing he did that got him booted out by the other leprechauns and that Sid acted all scandalized about?”
“What did he do?”
“Stole some magic sword. He gave it back. Everybody got their shorts in a bunch over it, but no harm done, as far as I can tell. Even Sid had to admit it really wasn’t that big a deal and, if Owen hadn’t been a leprechaun, everyone would be over it by now. I think the bigger problem is he’s defying stereotypes. The other leprechauns hate him.”
John’s look brightened. “Why didn’t you say that first? If they hate him, he must be okay.”
Meaghan took his hand. “I missed you. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “I’m sorry if I am pushing.”
“I think I’m ready to tell you what’s going on. I should have a long time ago, but I thought I had to be strong. And I was scared. And you’re not pushing. Not at all.”
John’s smiled at her, but his eyes looked worried. “Okay. I have wondered if I have been too eager.”
Meaghan shook her head. “That’s not the problem. It’s not you. It’s me.”
John’s eyes widened and he squeezed her hand tighter.
The look on his face couldn’t have been any clearer. He might as well have a comic strip thought bubble hanging over his head. She laughed. “Will you relax? I’m not breaking up with you.”
He sighed. “Good. I have heard that said and it’s never good for the one hearing it.”
“Yeah, except I’m not using it as an excuse. You’ve been wonderful. Patient.” She felt the tears begin to prickle. I must be getting better. I
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