Riding Home 13

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CHAPTER 13
Merry was quite direct in the car, as she woke from her daze.

“You, dear cousin, set me up”

“Me? How could I do such a thing? Look upon my innocent little girl face, as I bat my eyelashes, etc, aye?”

Eric was making some very odd sounds, which Merry ignored. I changed tack.

“I just thought, with what you said, about the soul, and I knew he was single, and, well…look, I did not tell him you were coming, aye? So, what did you think, if that’s not a stupid question?”

She drove in silence for a while, clearly weighing her words carefully.

“I was impressed by his sermon. I would normally expect a message drawn from one source alone, but he took two parables and wove their message together. Thus, he showed how the Book is consistent, how our Lord’s thoughts are true in their meaning and true to themselves. And he has very nice eyes”

“So you noticed?”

“Oh dear me yes. Annie, is your supermarket open on a Sunday?”

“I did the run yesterday, remember?”

My mind clicked into gear, as Merry’s tells went hyper.

“What have you done, girl?”

“I have not borne false witness, Annie. Just, perhaps, sort of, anticipated things a little.”

Her voice went very, very small. “I invited him to the dinner we will be having this evening”

Shit. “Merry, love, you know I cannot handle roast meats, except for chicken, aye?”

“That was sort of what I promised Simon…so we need to buy the birds”

“How many are YOU cooking for, woman?”

She looked across at me, nearly taking out a cyclist, and I turned her head forward quickly.

“Annie, surely you are not sending away your friends so soon? I was hoping to talk to Ginny a little”

“Why?”

She took a slow breath. “Who else can give me more insight into the pain that my dear cousin has suffered? Who else must I personally thank for your continued existence?”

“Well, he’s sitting behind you just now, Merry”

She smiled, as I pointed out the turning for the supermarket. “Him, I will thank each morning and night in my prayers, and by standing with him at your wedding, my darling. Virginia I need to meet properly”

Eric laughed. “You do realise she is barking mad, don’t you?”

“No, Eric, no she isn’t. She just has a mind full of life and a soul full of His holy inspiration, so full that it bursts out and gives light to the dark corners of others’ lives”

There was a pause. “Though she could use less profanity”

How do people do that? You think you know them, you have them neatly pigeon-holed, and then the wind shifts, or the light, and the sheer depth of their personality drops a hint.

“Annie, this is a practice meal, as Simon is talking about a Christmas gift to the disadvantaged this year. I will be here, I intend to offer my services.”

I could almost feel Eric’s nod. “We have done something similar, Merry. It seems to be Simon’s thing, food, music, some group or other that needs some love. Annie, I assume we are in line for this year, then?”

“If he asks us, love. Down this one and left at the roundabout, Merry”

We did as quick a round as we could, and I made damned sure I left the headgear in the car. Dress and heels, fine, but net-cardboard-feather thing, no. I like hats. I like cotton cycle caps, and waterproof leather Aussie things, and fleecy ear-hugging delights, but you can take your froth and frippery and---charge HOW MUCH?

I picked up a Savoy cabbage as well, to make a ‘cabbage pie’ for Ginny, which I intended to fill with a spicy tofu mixture, and some red peppers to roast, and of course some frozen yoghurt. Back to the car, Merry insisting on paying, and so to the house. She disappeared, and I found her upstairs in her room staring at her luggage, which was laid out on the bed. She was clearly fretting about what to wear. I looked into her case and pulled out a white blouse and a pair of slacks, and spotted a simple pair of loafers.

“Comfort, and cooking, Merry. No heels on my floors, aye? And the girls are in cycle kit, but not too smelly…look, put the slacks on and he will be able to see what a lovely arse you have”

I watched her face go through a series of changes.

“You are really, really out of practice on this, aren’t you?”

She ducked her head. “Never have been in practice, have I?”

“Look, Merry, this is not a make-or-break thing with a life partner, aye? This is just getting to know someone better, someone you might like. Take small steps, love. And by the way, I shall ring the Woods again. See if Darren wants dinner with Shan”

The smile was back as I redirected her focus. “He is very fond of her, isn’t he?”

“And she of him. We just need to steer love’s young path so neither gets hurt, aye? Slacks and blouse, girl, I’m off to the phone.”

The doorbell rang at six, and there he was, no odd collar, no robes, just a man pushing forty in jeans and a lavender cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up to show rather toned forearms. The twinkle was there still, the smile as genuine as ever.

“She’s in the kitchen, Simon”

He grinned. “Awfully presumptuous there, Annie!”

I led him in. “No presumption at all, Simon, just leaving the theology to those who done got religion, aye?”

The smile was softer. “You done got it yourself, my dear. You just won’t admit it”

“Nope, not here, no beardy man in my world view. Well, not since I shaved it off…forget I said that”

The smile was, if anything, even softer. “Annie, with the press coverage, and dear Stephanie, and the grief over Melanie, how could I not have known? I assumed you treated it as common knowledge. And you know that Eric has spoken to me, am I right? Anyway, you are the young lady who has an appointment with me in September, yes?”

“Simon, I know that, I just need to get…something out of the way.”

“Annie, you should read more. Your gender can still be reassigned without invasive surgery”

“Yes, but I want to–“

“You want to be right for your husband, yes, I know. But hear me: I do not care. I mean, I DO care, for your sake, what I meant was that it matters not to me the state you are in when you stand before me in September. I fully intend to marry you. Er, you and Eric, that is”

I hugged him. Of course I had known, had realised that he knew. I was keeping no secret of my past, just not shouting it from the rooftops, but every so often I had little moments of painful memory. Get a grip.

“Simon, the kitchen is through here”

She was bent over in front of the oven, and yes, she does have a lovely bottom despite being so thin. Simon noticed. I left him to it.

The living room was nicely filled, a bean bag holding one young couple in that relaxed embrace that says they no longer care what people say, and the sofa an older pair in a much more casual collision of limbs that tells everyone who sees it that they never did care. Eric was in one of the armchairs, so I slithered onto his lap and kissed him.

“Dog has now seen rabbit’s arse, love. She was bent over in front of the oven”

“How long till dinner?”

“About a quarter hour, aye? Shall we get our serfs untangled?”

“Indeed. Kids, table to set, canoodle later”

I slipped off to have a quiet word with Chantelle as Darren raided the cutlery drawer and Eric found a decent cloth.

“You OK with another man in the house, love?”

“He’s not in his vicar suit, is he?”

“No, just shirt and slacks”

“Thass OK, then, I got you lot an’ Daz with me, yeah?”

Every so often Shan lets out some little snippet that reminds me not only that there was a lot more to her ordeal than she has ever told, but that it can never truly be over. That remark made my stomach twitch in disgust. I hugged her.

“Always with you, love, always. Now, go and sort out the mess he’s made of the settings, aye?”

A short while later, Simon started carrying in the plates and platters, and we were presented with a crispy-skinned roast chicken and a steaming cabbage pie surrounded by stuffed and baked peppers, together with an assortment of vegetables and a flushed cousin. Shan had opted for the cabbage, along with Ginny and Merry, so we had the choice of opener of the way to sort. Eric had the answer.

“Look, I am not really host today, and Simon is a guest, but if there is any carving to be done…is there a doctor in the house?”

Kate smiled, and to Shan’s uncontrollable giggles proceeded to pretend to take the pulse of the bird.

“Hmm. Still warm. Time of death…oh, some time before six fifteen. I shall perform the autopsy now. For the benefit of the tape, I am making an incision along the left side of the sternum–oh, Shan, you’ll spill your drink. Who wants a leg?”

Merry’s smiles were directed one way.

It was a very, very good evening. The girls left first, but it was ten thirty before our vicar made his move. Well, I assume he made some sort of move, as it took twenty minutes for them to say goodnight at the front door. We didn’t stare when she came back to the living room.

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Comments

Thanks again Steph,

ALISON

'a good story,as always.Annie has come a long way.

ALISON

You Rotten Tear-Jerking Writer, You

joannebarbarella's picture

Are you trying to take 'Drea's Kween of Kleenex crown away from her? 'Cos you're succeeding. I cried almost all the way through this chapter....happy tears.

Yeah, I know, sentimental ol' softy,

Joanne

Riding Home 13

That Merry is something else. :)

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Is there a doctor in the house?


“Look, I am not really host today, and Simon is a guest, but if there is any carving to be done…is there a doctor in the house?”

Kate smiled, and to Shan’s uncontrollable giggles proceeded to pretend to take the pulse of the bird.

“Hmm. Still warm. Time of death…oh, some time before six fifteen. I shall perform the autopsy now. For the benefit of the tape, I am making an incision along the left side of the sternum—oh, Shan, you’ll spill your drink. Who wants a leg?”

And not only to Shan's uncontrollable giggles, but mine also!

I loved what you did there with the autopsy analogy. Please provide us with more giggles like that.

Jessica

ah it's fun

kristina l s's picture

I love it when I read stuff and know that there's no way I could write that quite like that. 'Virginia I need to meet properly', I mean simple but... no, not at all. Later, 'well I assume he made some sort of move' hah, just brilliant. What the hell is a savoy cabbage anyway?

'he's not in his vicar suit is he'.... jay zuss!! curtseys, scribble on hon. Brutal and beautiful in the space of a par. Good thing I'm a little flexible or whiplash might be a real pain in the butt... or somewhere. Where's the dencorub?

Kris

setting up Mary

he sounds perfect for her. Darn it, where can I find a matchmaker like Annie?

Dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

Dunno

But if you find one, point them in my direction will you?

Lovely...

...how the corner is turned out of darkness.

The normal, everyday quality of your characters love brings a smile to my face. What was once only a distant dream, hoped for in the smallest corner of Annie's thoughts, has become a tangible reality. Hope has been fulfilled, at least in part, and the promise of the future can be felt.

As always, love the story hon =)