by Amira Rain
"Hello."
Smiling in return, I had a seat next to her on the couch and took her free hand in one of my own.
"Hi, Grandma. How are you?"
Ignoring my question, she looked from me to the TV, then back to me again. "They're about to give away the grand prize...ten thousand dollars. Wouldn't that be something else? To win ten thousand dollars just for answering a couple of trivia questions?"
I agreed that it would be something else, and she turned back to the TV just in time to see one of three contestants get showered with confetti while the host handed her a comically large check made out to Grand Prize Winner.
My grandma murmured a few things regarding the smarts and good luck of the winner before suddenly turning her gaze back to me. "You look an awful lot like my granddaughter. Her name's Madison."
During her three years at the care home, my grandma had not recognized me as actually being her granddaughter probably a hundred times. It should have been an easy thing for me to experience by this point. It seemed like at the very least, I should have been completely used to it. But, despite this, every single time, it hurt just as badly as the first time she hadn't recognized me. It was still very bit as simultaneously sad and upsetting.
However, I'd learned to hide my sadness. It did no good to let my grandma see tears. They seemed to further confuse her and make her anxious, which in turn, saddened and upset me even further, which in turn, upset her even further.
It was best to just gently remind her who I was and then move on, multiple times, if need be. I'd learned to compartmentalize my sadness into a mental box labeled Later.
In the present, I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, hoping she might suddenly remember who I was, as she sometimes did. "I am Madison, Grandma. I'm Madison. I'm your granddaughter.”
Looking very uncertain, yet somehow apologetic at the same time, as if her uncertainty embarrassed her, she went back to looking at the TV. "Sometimes, even the commercials they have on nowadays are entertaining, aren't they?"
Resolutely blinking back just a bit of moisture trying to well in my eyes, I agreed, joining her in watching the commercial that was currently on. It was for a laundry detergent guaranteed to "turn your laundry life around with just one bottle!"
Nodding almost imperceptibly, my grandma murmured that she liked the sound of that. "Anything to make my wash day easier."
She hadn't done her own laundry in at least three years, since coming to live at the care home.
At the start of the third commercial, she suddenly turned her focus back to me. "I like that woman Eloise."
Smiling, I glanced from the kitchen back to my grandma. "I know. That's why I've always wanted to keep you here. She takes such good care of you, doesn't she?
My grandma frowned, knitting her gray brows. "Who does?"
"Eloise. The woman who owns this home. She's your friend, and she helps take care of you."
My grandma gave her head a little shake, expression apologetic again. "I'm sorry, I...I'm not sure I know who you mean."
"That's okay. That's fine. We can just go back to watching TV if you want."
She was already back to watching TV even before I'd finished speaking.
Although within just a few seconds, she turned her focus to me again. "Eloise is going to be making grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch today, with homemade tomato soup. She puts a pinch of basil in mine, because she knows I like it that way."
I smiled. "That's very nice of her. That sounds delicious."
"Madison?"
My grandma was suddenly peering at me, her green eyes lighting with recognition.
"Oh, Madison, I thought you'd come today. Oh, I'm so happy to see you. And, here...here, look. I made you something."
Just about cracking my heart in two, she handed me the pipe-cleaner-and-tissue-paper flower. Its thoroughly crumpled petals, which were pasted onto a small cardboard disc, were white, pink, and yellow.
"I remembered how much you love pink and yellow, so I did a little of each."
I still liked pink and yellow, though they had been my very favorite colors when I'd been a little girl. But she'd remembered that. The disease ravaging her mind and robbing her of her memories sure was an odd one, not to mention an incredibly cruel one.
Once again fighting tears, I admired the precious flower briefly before looking up at her with a smile, using every last ounce of my will to do it.
"It's beautiful, Grandma. Thank you so much."
She smiled in return, squeezing my hand. "You're very welcome. Now, do you think your folks will also be by today? I might make flowers for them, too, if I have time. I'll do a red one for Daphne, and maybe a plain daisy for Dave."
She wasn't remembering that my parents, Daphne and Dave, had been gone for about two years, which was maybe a blessing. I couldn't imagine having to recall that your daughter and son-in-law had been killed by murderous sorcerers making an attempt to take over the world. It was something that I, of sound mind and body, didn't like to recall.
I'd never had the stomach to gently correct my grandma by telling her that my parents were gone, and this day was no exception. It was fine, though, because something on TV had caught her attention almost as soon as she'd said their names.
With the agents waiting for me outside, I knew I didn't have a ton of time to say my goodbye, even though the man with the wire-rimmed glasses told me to take all the time I needed. I was sure he hadn't meant hours. Not to mention that I had no desire to drag things out anyway. I'd already come too close to full-blown tears for comfort.
However, I liked just sitting with my grandma and holding her hand, so I did just that for a minute or so before giving her hand a light squeeze.
"Grandma, I wanted to tell you that I'm moving to Chicago to start a new job, but I'll be back to visit you as often as I can."
I was sure that wouldn't be at my usual visiting rate of two or three times a week, sometimes more, but I was going to try to make it back to see her at least a few times a month. At least.
After I'd said what I had about my "new job" and visiting, she turned her gaze from the TV to me, looking utterly baffled. "Are you the new helper here?"
I soon told her I loved her and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then left the living room with my tissue paper flower before I could upset her with tears that were becoming harder and harder to hold back.
Eloise followed me down the hallway, not speaking until we'd reached the front door.
"We'll take good care of her, Madison."
I nodded, blinking back tears that I'd somehow managed to not let fall.
"I know. Thank you. I'll be back to visit as often as I can, and I'll call all the time, too."
Eloise said she knew I would, and wished me good luck in Chicago.
"Not that you'll need it. I'm sure you'll do a fine job as a Gifted. Although I'd be lying if I said I won't worry about you in that city, what with all the danger, and with you not having any family or anything there. Are they at least allowing you to bring the baby's father along with you?"
The last time I'd visited, I'd very briefly confided in Eloise that I was pregnant, but I hadn't said anything about my baby's father. And that was because that whole thing was kind of a long story. Though actually, at the same time, it was really a very short one.
CHAPTER TWO
My boss, Nadine, had pulled me out to some dive bar in town one Thursday evening after work. We'd both been a little troubled all day, because it had been the first day of a new session at the gymnastics center, and only maybe half as many kids as the previous session had shown up. Twice, I'd caught Nadine searching different things about Texas on her laptop.
At the end of the day, she'd said we needed a few beers and a few tunes from an old jukebox at a certain bar in town to unwind. I was sure that was true, although I had a sneaking feeling that Nadine wanted to visit this particular bar before splitting for Texas.
She'd once told me it had been her
and her first husband's favorite spot over three decades earlier. At any rate, I'd agreed to go, have a beer, and keep her company. I did, however, insist that Nadine and I drive separately in our own cars, so that I could go home if she wasn't ready to yet. She wasn't a big drinker at all, but she was a very big fan of having fun and socializing, and when she went to a bar, she usually liked to spend several hours there.
At the bar, I'd ended up having two beers, and by that time, the old songs on the dust-covered jukebox had sounded pretty good to me. I'd watched, actually enjoying myself a little bit, while Nadine danced with a few former high school classmates she'd run into.
Then, I'd run into one of my former high school classmates, a young woman named Christy. She joined me at my little table, and Nadine soon waved to me, twirling out the door with her own former classmates. Shortly after, when I'd returned to Christy at the table after a quick trip to the restroom, Nadine called, saying that her group was going to a different bar, and she just wanted to make sure it was okay she'd left. I'd said it was absolutely fine, because I planned to head home after chatting a little longer with Christy, anyway.
Not a minute or two after I'd ended the call with Nadine, a group of tall, well-muscled men entered the bar, men I was sure I would have remembered if I'd ever seen them in Quincy before.
After trailing off in the telling of some memory of our high school years, Christy had grabbed my sleeve, eyes wide.
"Oh my God. I think those men who just came in are dragon shifters. My sister said that some of the different dragon shifter groups from all around the Midwest have been flying close to Quincy lately, on different surveillance missions to watch the Angels or something like that.
“Some of the different groups have even stopped off for drinks a few times in the towns near here...but as far as everyone knows, none of the groups had ever stopped off in Quincy. Until now, anyway. These men who just walked in must be dragon shifters. There are no men left in Quincy that look like that; I know that much."
I had to agree with that, and frankly, I wasn't sure if there had ever been any men in Quincy who'd looked like the men who'd just entered the bar. Now that they were out of the dimly-lit entrance and up to the brighter-lit bar, I could see this group of men a little better, well enough to see that they were all incredibly handsome.
One of them, a man in his early to mid-thirties, maybe, was especially handsome. Several inches over six feet tall, with dark hair and a sculpted chest that seemed to have been made for modeling fitted t-shirts, he was mesmerizing. Though I couldn't even tell what was most mesmerizing to me, his physicality or his face. With a high forehead, fairly wide, deep-set eyes, full lips, and a strong, square jaw, his face was just as much a work of art as his body.
Wherever in the Midwest this group of dragon shifters was from, this man seemed to be their leader. He was at least the drink-buyer for all of them, ordering a round of what looked like whiskey shot. The way he'd led the group into the bar, and even the way he was currently standing there, lazily yet with some sort of supreme confidence, told me that he was indeed the leader. If he and his friends were wolf shifters, I would have said he was the alpha, but I had no idea what the equivalent for dragon shifters was. Dragon overlord, I thought with a giggle in my just-slightly-buzzy state.
Christy seemed to know exactly which of the dragon shifters I was stealing peeks at, and she gave my arm a little tap.
"You want the alpha guy, don't you? That's fine with me, I guess. You're prettier, so you probably have a better chance of getting with him anyway."
"But I'm not-"
"No, you're prettier, and you're hotter. I'm not too clueless or proud to admit it."
Although I supposed it would have been the kind and polite thing for me to protest about what she'd said, especially since I wasn't quite sure that it was true, because Christy was pretty attractive herself, I'd actually been about to say But I'm not interested in any kind of a bar hookup, and That's not why I'm here.
But before I could try again to express those sentiments, Christy bounced up from her seat and began straightening her denim miniskirt.
"I'll go for one of the alpha guy's friends. And you don't even need to come up to the bar. I'll get the drinks coming over here in just a second, then alpha guy will probably come over and talk. The rest is up to you. Maybe pull down that V-neck a little bit while you're waiting."
I definitely wasn't going to do that. If a man didn't want me with my breasts not hanging out of the long-sleeved pale gray t-shirt I was wearing, then that was his problem.
Not that I wanted the "alpha guy" up at the bar to want me, anyway. Like I'd been trying to tell Christy, I really wasn't interested in any kind of a bar hookup.
It was too late, though. Christy was already gone, sashaying her way up to the bar with her long blonde curls bouncing. It wasn't as if I could immediately leave the bar, either, because I was still just slightly buzzy from my two beers. I knew I was maybe fifteen or twenty minutes away from being completely safe to drive home. I'd planned on getting to that state by nibbling a handful of pretzels and sipping some water while I chatted with Christy a while longer.
Now I crunched a few pretzels nervously while she hopped up onto a bar stool and began talking to Alpha Guy and one of his friends. Alpha Guy glanced in my direction, and I looked away and began pulling my jacket on, trying to give a signal that I was soon leaving and wasn't interested in having another drink.
Again, it was too late, though. Alpha Guy said something to the bartender; the bartender soon served Christy two beers; she grabbed them, gave Alpha Guy and his friend a smile, and then began heading back over to me.
When she reached the table, she set the two beers down, smiling again.
"These are from them, and they said they'll be right over to hang out with us."
I sighed, grabbing my shoulder bag from the chair next to me.
"Well, you can hang out with them both, because I'm taking off. I'm just really not into meeting men at bars."
Right then, I saw Alpha Guy eying me again. He really was unbelievably handsome, weakening my resolve to leave, but I was still determined to do so. Outside the bar, there was something called a "Quincy cruise night" going on, and it was a monthly event in the spring and summer where classic car enthusiasts got together to socialize, display their vintage cars, and slowly drive them up and down the cordoned-off block reserved for the event.
I decided I'd go stroll around for a little while until I was completely sober, and maybe I'd get something to eat from one of a half-dozen or so food trucks parked along the road. I’d only had a small salad and half a sandwich for a quick dinner at the gym earlier, so I was kind of hungry.
Sitting down beside me, Christy frowned.
"Well, are you sure? It's not every day that dragon shifters-"
"Yes, I'm sure." I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I appreciate you talking to them and everything, but I'm really going to take off. It was great to visit with you, though, and we'll have to do it again sometime soon."
After giving her a quick smile, I just about flew out of the bar. The Alpha Guy and his friend had been served more whiskey shots, and they were already making their way over to the table, shot glasses in hand.
Once outside, I paused to inhale a lungful of cool evening air. Up and down the street, classic cars were parked in gleaming rows, and across the street in a little park, food trucks sat adjacent to a few picnic tables.
A little further away at the edge of the park a local oldies cover band was playing on a stage. Several couples were dancing by two rows of empty chairs in front of the stage, but most of the people at the event were milling around their cars, talking and laughing beneath rows of round, white paper lanterns that had been strung across the street.
From what I could see, it looked like at least three or four hundred people were at the event, maybe even more, which was a surprisingly great turnout for a city with a recent greatly-decreased populati
on like Quincy. Although maybe it shouldn't have been that surprising, considering that it seemed to be primarily young people and young families who'd left the area for greener pastures farther away from Angel activity, and the "cruise night" events had always tended to attract an older crowd, anyway.
Heading toward the food trucks, I set off at a stroll, smelling a heavenly cinnamon scent that told me elephant ears were near; but I hadn't even made it halfway across the street before I heard a deep male voice telling me to wait up. This voice, rich and clear in tone, was just as heavenly as the scent of frying pastry, and somehow I just knew who it belonged to.
I was right. Turning in the direction of the voice, I saw Alpha Guy striding toward me in the glow from all the lanterns.
When he reached me, he opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it, a little nervous for some reason, with my heart thudding in my ears.
