Feather Light

Chapter 21

We've all read those stories, when the guy leaves and the girl falls apart. I always wondered about that, because in real life most of us don't have the option of becoming catatonic after a breakup. Life goes on. Whether we like it or not, unless you do something pretty drastic, life continues. You still need to eat and work and bathe. I got so annoyed when I read about the heroines who couldn't get out of bed from heart break, or simply sat and stared over a cliff, or who stopped eating and speaking. What about your job? I thought. Did you stop going to the toilet as well? Did you get bedsores?

Needless to say, I wasn't that kind of girl. After my self-indulgent night of staring out to sea in the rain, I woke up in my bed with a rash from the sand and a blocked nose from the rain. Not very romantic or tragic, mostly just phlegmy and itchy.

I showered, found a tube of pawpaw ointment, took some cold and flu tablets and felt surprisingly normal. When I considered going down to find something to eat, I wondered briefly if I would run into Noah and if I was strong enough for that yet. My heart wasn't sure, but my stomach growled at me that it needed food and to suck it up.

Downstairs, I found Leigh in the kitchen. "Good morning!" He greeted me with his usual enthusiasm, thankfully making no mention of my beach antics the night before. "There's bacon and eggs up, and I made smoothies. I'm taking the day off and there's an Arnold Schwarzenegger marathon on TV, no excuses; nothing makes the world seem like a better place that watching things explode"

"Leigh, thanks, but I'm not even sure if I should stay for breakfast at this point." I extended my wings a little to drape them over the chair as I sat. The muscles, sore from disuse and the night's exertions, suddenly flared in pain and I gasped quietly.

Leigh's head shot up and before I could stop him, he strode over and began inspecting the damaged wing. When he was satisfied, he gave me a look of pure concern. "Look, I know this is... difficult. But I don't want you to run out the door yet, okay? I'd still like to monitor your wing for a few more days. The last thing I want is for you to leave and then everything falls apart."

Everything already did, I thought. I didn't agree to his request, but I did have a question. "Have you seen Noah yet?" I needed to at least know where he was and try to save myself an awkward encounter.

Leigh shook his head. "Pop went upstairs to check on him." He brought me a plate and glass from the bench and put them firmly on the table. "Eat. Now."

I felt like a teenager again. "Don't tell me what to do, you're not my real mom."

Leigh smiled at me and I found that I really did want to eat. Not only that, I didn't want to leave. I reflected that the worst part of breaking up with Noah might be not just losing him, but his family too.

I was cleaning my plate with my finger - Leigh's eggs were that good - when Pop walked in. "How is he?" asked Leigh.

"Not here," said Pop, sitting heavily.

The words hit both Leigh and I like a slap in the face. "What? What do you mean, where is he?" Leigh's eyebrows were low in confusion and worry.

"I don't know. But the bed hasn't been slept in and from what I can tell, he hasn't been home at all. I've searched the house in case he fell asleep somewhere else, the studio maybe, but he isn't here."

I swallowed. "So, what does that mean?"

Pop drummed his fingers on the table. "I honestly don't know. If he flew too far to make it back before light, he might just have to find somewhere remote to roost for the day. We can probably expect to see him tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest."