Love Talker's Daughter

Chapter Four

Morgan looked in the mirror and sighed. It looked like someone had used flesh colored marshmallows to build her eyelids, and mostly red marbles for her eyes. Add in the shiny red nose, and tangled hair, and she looked like something from a fright-night show.

She shuffled over to the shower and adjusted the temperature to just under 'scald yourself', and stepped under the strong spray. For once, she was thankful she had nowhere to go, no one to impress. Tipping her face up, she let the hot water pound on her skin, washing away all traces of her tears.

Her breakdown had been almost a month in coming. She shook her head and wet strands of hair slapped across her cheeks. A month. Was that all it had been since her since her parents' death? Since she'd been left alone in the world?

It seemed hard to believe so much time had passed. And yet, some days it felt like an eternity since that beautiful spring day when she'd seen her mother and father last. When her world shattered around her.

Morgan had left for school, her parents waving at her as she backed down the driveway. Everyone was happy. Everything perfect. Then tragedy struck. The phone call. The surreal drive home. The crushing reality that her parents we killed in a car accident.

Her father had always said he'd die if her mother died. Morgan assumed he was being romantic, trying to tell her mother, how much he loved her, but now she knew he truly meant what he’d said. He died at the same time as her mother, without a wound to account for his death. Even the doctors were mystified as to cause of death, although the finally ruled it as a result of an accident. But Morgan believed it was something more. Something related to the stories he’d told her over the years.

She’d always believed them to be bedtime tales to help her relax and have sweet dreams. Not in a million years did she think fairies existed. Or that another world adjoined theirs. She was too logical for fairy tales. But she could find no rational explanation for him dying from no injury. Nor could she explain why he had seemed so much older than his years.

There were no explanations. No one to answer all the questions she never asked. Questions she thought she had all the time in the world to puzzle over. With no living relatives, Morgan would have to rely on the memory of her father’s tales and her own research to learn the truth. But where to start? The internet? The library? Or, maybe she should head to the Ren Faire and look for the guy she’d seen in the woods yesterday. He probably had to do some kind of research for his role. Morgan smiled at the thought of him teaching her about fairies.

“Yeah, right.” She laughed, the sound echoing around her like tinkling bells.

For a moment yesterday, she'd entertained the idea of getting to know him. He seemed friendly and non-threatening. And his looks were drop dead gorgeous―almost too gorgeous. Yeah, he was totally out of her league, but that wasn’t what had sent her running. No, it was his endearment, spoken in the same accent as her father’s. She’d never thought to hear those words again, and while his voice wasn’t as deep as her father’s, it was close enough to drive home how much she missed him.

When her fingers puckered, Morgan turned off the water and stepped out into the fog filled room. She wrapped a towel around her hair and grabbed the last one from the shelf to dry off. A small, black cat twined itself around her ankles, and she reached down and ran a hand over his head.

“Guess it’s time to do laundry, huh Merlin.” He meowed his agreement. “Well, let’s get dressed and throw a load in before we do anything else.”

Merlin scampered into Morgan’s room and leapt onto the bed. He circled around, then curled up, and started grooming himself. Morgan pulled on a yellow t-shirt and pair of jeans, and then ran a comb through her hair. She dabbed some chapstick on her lips, shoved her feet into a pair of flip flops, and headed for the door, laundry basket in tow.

“Come on, Merlin. Let’s see if your mouse friend is in the laundry room today.”

She shuddered at the thought of the little gray mouse she’d seen the last two times she’d done laundry. Merlin would pounce at the tiny creature and it would scamper off to parts unknown, its shrill cries fading into the walls.

As she passed the living room, she paused and looked at the trio of paintings hanging on the wall. 'Fairy Prince on the Hunt'. The series had been painted by her father when she was a small child, and they'd always been her favorite.

The paintings had always seemed magical to her. She never knew if it was because the dark haired boy called to something in her heart, or if it was the tiny fairies that hovered over the flowers, or the slender women you could see blended into the trunks of the trees.

Pulled by an unseen force, Morgan stopped in front of one a picture of the boy dressed in brown leathers, a bow and quiver of arrows slung over his back. She bit back a gasp of surprise. He resembled a younger version of the stranger she'd seen in the woods yesterday. In fact, they looked so much alike, Morgan wondered if the man had posed for her father as a child.

Shaking her head at her runaway imagination, she headed to the laundry room and started a load of wash. Thankfully, the room was mouse free today. With the water filling the washer, she headed into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of juice. She wandered to the big, picture window that overlooked the back yard. The sun shone bright, promising another beautiful day. The leaves fluttered on the trees, and she felt a tug in her stomach, as if something pulled her to the woods. She rinsed her glass, picked up her recorder, and headed outside.

Morgan tipped her head back, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine on her face, even though she knew it would spread more freckles across her pale skin. A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying the fragrances of honeysuckle and roses. She breathed deeply, savoring the early scents of summer.

The air cooled under the shade of the trees. Dappled sunlight danced on the ground, while birds twittered and squirrels chirped. Twigs snapped underfoot as Morgan made her way to the enormous tree stump. A large branch of the old oak had fallen during a summer storm five years ago, miraculously not damaging any of the others trees around it. Worried the tree might fall and damage their house, her father had cut it down, leaving behind what he liked to call ‘natural seating.’

She settled on top of the stump and set the recorder to her lips, letting the music come to her, as it always did. Unlike the mournful laments she played yesterday, this song held a promise of joy. Lost in the music, she turned her thoughts to the handsome stranger.

He looked so much like the boy in the painting. It was funny she hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but her mind had been focused on other things. She pushed her thoughts away from her loss, and focused on the past. On the times when she sat in this very spot while her father played the pipe for her. But, not just her. No, she could see a pair of boys sitting with her.

The memory was fuzzy, but the more she thought about it, the clearer it became. Soon, she could picture them as clearly as she could her father’s paintings. One had been dark, the other fair. Oddly, she didn't know either of their names. She'd either forgotten them over time, or had never known them at all.

Her body relaxed as she started a new tune. For the first time in months, she could think of her father and not break down in tears. The pain was still there, but it was overshadowed by the warmth of his love. Not wanting to lose this feeling, she let her imagination run wild, envisioning another visit from her handsome stranger.

In her imaginings they talked, his wonderful accent sending chills up and down her spine. Then, they danced. He was light on his feet, and twirled her around with ease. After a series of spins, he dipped her low, then claimed her lips for a kiss. And what a kiss it was. Her face heated at the very thought.

As the last note of her song died off, her dream world faded away, and she opened her eyes to find the man she'd been thinking of standing in front of her.