Key of Valor
Page 13
She could only nod.
“There’s more, but let’s just toss in the sexual chemistry for now. Add all that up, it seems like some fairly solid common ground.”
“I don’t know what to say to you half the time, or how to say it.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t think about it so hard.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go look at the kitchen. If we don’t get out of here soon, there’s not going to be anything left in that chicken bucket but crumbs.”
SHE was grateful he’d let the subject drop. She just couldn’t separate her thoughts and feelings, her concerns and her needs into separate areas. Not right now.
She was grateful, too, that the time she’d spent at Flynn’s had involved fried chicken and relaxation without focusing on the key.
She had nothing to offer yet, and there was too much information, too many questions, circling around in her mind to line up in an intelligent conversation.
They would need to have a meeting soon, all of them, but she wanted a little time to sort through everything first.
Both Malory and Dana had come up with theories quickly. Those theories had been refined and re-angled and changed over the four weeks, but they’d formed a foundation.
And, Zoe thought, she had nothing.
So she would spend the evening going over the clue, all of their notes, taking herself back, step by step, through the first two quests. Somewhere in there were answers.
Once Simon and Moe were settled down and the house blessedly quiet, she sat at her kitchen table. Notes, files, books were arranged in piles. She’d decided she’d gone over her coffee quota for the day, so she brewed a pot of tea.
Sipping the first cup, she read over the clue again and wrote down on a fresh page of her notebook what she thought might be important words.
Beauty, truth, courage
Loss, sorrow
Forest
Path
Journey
Blood and death
Ghosts
Faith
Fear
Goddess
Valiant
She was probably missing some, but the list gave her a start. Beauty for Malory, truth for Dana. Courage for herself.
Loss and sorrow. Hers, or did it refer to the daughters? If she took it personally for this round, what was her loss, what was her sorrow? Most recently, she’d lost her job, Zoe mused and jotted that down. But that had turned out to be an opportunity.
Forests? They were plentiful, but some meant more to her than others. There were woods at Warrior’s Peak. There were woods back home, where she’d grown up. There were woods along the river by Brad’s house. But if forest was symbolic, it could mean not seeing it for the trees. Not seeing the overall scope of something because you were too busy worrying about the individual details.
She did that sometimes, that was true. But, God, there were so many details, and who was going to worry about them if she didn’t?
She had a parent-teacher meeting coming up. Simon needed new shoes and a new winter coat. The washing machine was starting to make grinding noises, and she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning out her gutters.
She needed to buy the towels for the salon and spring for a new washer and dryer over there. Which meant the one at home would have to grind for a while.
She rested her head on her fisted hand, closed her eyes for just a minute.
She would get it all done; that was her job. But one of these days, she was going to stretch out in the shade for an entire afternoon with nothing but a book and a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade.
The hammock swung, gentle as a cradle, and the book lay, neglected and unread, on her belly. The taste of tart lemonade was still on her tongue.
Her eyes were closed behind shaded glasses, and she could feel the breeze blowing sweetly over her face.
She didn’t know the last time she’d been so relaxed. Mind and body totally at rest. There was nothing to do but bask in the quiet and peace.
She drifted along with a sigh of perfect contentment.
And was standing in the trailer, sweating in the vicious heat. It was like living in a can, she thought as she swept shorn hair into a pile on the floor.
She could hear her brother and younger sister arguing, their voices spilling through the stingy windows. High and tight and angry. Everyone always seemed so angry here.
It made her head pound, viciously.
Moving to the door, she shoved it open to shout out to them.
Be quiet! For God’s sake, be quiet for five damn minutes and give me some peace.
And found herself wandering in a forest, with winter snow thick under her feet. Wind screamed through the pines, whipped the branches toward a sky the color of stone.
She was cold, and lost and afraid.
As she began to trudge, hunched into herself against the blizzard, she wrapped an arm under her swollen belly to anchor the baby.
He was so heavy, and she was so tired.
She wanted to stop, to rest. What was the point, what was the use? She would never find her way out.
Pain vised her belly, doubled her over in shock. She felt a gush between her legs, and stared down in horror at the blood spilling onto the snow.
Terrified, she opened her mouth to scream, and found herself back in the hammock, in the shade, tasting lemonade again.
Choose.
She bolted up from her own kitchen table, shivering while Moe stood beside her snarling at thin air.
Chapter Four
IT was trickier than Zoe had expected to talk Simon into spending the day with one of his school friends instead of coming with her to work at Indulgence.
He liked hanging out with the guys. He wanted to play with Moe. He could help with stuff. He wouldn’t get in the way.
In the end she fell back on the most successful parental ploy of all. Bribery. They would stop by the video store on the way and rent two games and a movie.
When it turned out that Moe was welcome to join the play date and romp in the backyard with young Chuck’s yellow lab, Simon wasn’t only satisfied, he was in heaven.
It alleviated a big chunk of the guilt, and the worry, and gave Zoe the opportunity to explore her first theory.
If the journey in the clue was hers, and the forest a kind of symbol, maybe it referred to her life in the Valley. The paths she’d taken in the place she’d made her home.
She’d been drawn here, to this pretty little valley town, and had known it was her place the moment she’d driven through it nearly four years earlier.
She’d had to work, to struggle, to sacrifice to find the joy and the fulfillment. She’d had to choose her paths, her directions, her destinations.
“There’s more, but let’s just toss in the sexual chemistry for now. Add all that up, it seems like some fairly solid common ground.”
“I don’t know what to say to you half the time, or how to say it.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t think about it so hard.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go look at the kitchen. If we don’t get out of here soon, there’s not going to be anything left in that chicken bucket but crumbs.”
SHE was grateful he’d let the subject drop. She just couldn’t separate her thoughts and feelings, her concerns and her needs into separate areas. Not right now.
She was grateful, too, that the time she’d spent at Flynn’s had involved fried chicken and relaxation without focusing on the key.
She had nothing to offer yet, and there was too much information, too many questions, circling around in her mind to line up in an intelligent conversation.
They would need to have a meeting soon, all of them, but she wanted a little time to sort through everything first.
Both Malory and Dana had come up with theories quickly. Those theories had been refined and re-angled and changed over the four weeks, but they’d formed a foundation.
And, Zoe thought, she had nothing.
So she would spend the evening going over the clue, all of their notes, taking herself back, step by step, through the first two quests. Somewhere in there were answers.
Once Simon and Moe were settled down and the house blessedly quiet, she sat at her kitchen table. Notes, files, books were arranged in piles. She’d decided she’d gone over her coffee quota for the day, so she brewed a pot of tea.
Sipping the first cup, she read over the clue again and wrote down on a fresh page of her notebook what she thought might be important words.
Beauty, truth, courage
Loss, sorrow
Forest
Path
Journey
Blood and death
Ghosts
Faith
Fear
Goddess
Valiant
She was probably missing some, but the list gave her a start. Beauty for Malory, truth for Dana. Courage for herself.
Loss and sorrow. Hers, or did it refer to the daughters? If she took it personally for this round, what was her loss, what was her sorrow? Most recently, she’d lost her job, Zoe mused and jotted that down. But that had turned out to be an opportunity.
Forests? They were plentiful, but some meant more to her than others. There were woods at Warrior’s Peak. There were woods back home, where she’d grown up. There were woods along the river by Brad’s house. But if forest was symbolic, it could mean not seeing it for the trees. Not seeing the overall scope of something because you were too busy worrying about the individual details.
She did that sometimes, that was true. But, God, there were so many details, and who was going to worry about them if she didn’t?
She had a parent-teacher meeting coming up. Simon needed new shoes and a new winter coat. The washing machine was starting to make grinding noises, and she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning out her gutters.
She needed to buy the towels for the salon and spring for a new washer and dryer over there. Which meant the one at home would have to grind for a while.
She rested her head on her fisted hand, closed her eyes for just a minute.
She would get it all done; that was her job. But one of these days, she was going to stretch out in the shade for an entire afternoon with nothing but a book and a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade.
The hammock swung, gentle as a cradle, and the book lay, neglected and unread, on her belly. The taste of tart lemonade was still on her tongue.
Her eyes were closed behind shaded glasses, and she could feel the breeze blowing sweetly over her face.
She didn’t know the last time she’d been so relaxed. Mind and body totally at rest. There was nothing to do but bask in the quiet and peace.
She drifted along with a sigh of perfect contentment.
And was standing in the trailer, sweating in the vicious heat. It was like living in a can, she thought as she swept shorn hair into a pile on the floor.
She could hear her brother and younger sister arguing, their voices spilling through the stingy windows. High and tight and angry. Everyone always seemed so angry here.
It made her head pound, viciously.
Moving to the door, she shoved it open to shout out to them.
Be quiet! For God’s sake, be quiet for five damn minutes and give me some peace.
And found herself wandering in a forest, with winter snow thick under her feet. Wind screamed through the pines, whipped the branches toward a sky the color of stone.
She was cold, and lost and afraid.
As she began to trudge, hunched into herself against the blizzard, she wrapped an arm under her swollen belly to anchor the baby.
He was so heavy, and she was so tired.
She wanted to stop, to rest. What was the point, what was the use? She would never find her way out.
Pain vised her belly, doubled her over in shock. She felt a gush between her legs, and stared down in horror at the blood spilling onto the snow.
Terrified, she opened her mouth to scream, and found herself back in the hammock, in the shade, tasting lemonade again.
Choose.
She bolted up from her own kitchen table, shivering while Moe stood beside her snarling at thin air.
Chapter Four
IT was trickier than Zoe had expected to talk Simon into spending the day with one of his school friends instead of coming with her to work at Indulgence.
He liked hanging out with the guys. He wanted to play with Moe. He could help with stuff. He wouldn’t get in the way.
In the end she fell back on the most successful parental ploy of all. Bribery. They would stop by the video store on the way and rent two games and a movie.
When it turned out that Moe was welcome to join the play date and romp in the backyard with young Chuck’s yellow lab, Simon wasn’t only satisfied, he was in heaven.
It alleviated a big chunk of the guilt, and the worry, and gave Zoe the opportunity to explore her first theory.
If the journey in the clue was hers, and the forest a kind of symbol, maybe it referred to her life in the Valley. The paths she’d taken in the place she’d made her home.
She’d been drawn here, to this pretty little valley town, and had known it was her place the moment she’d driven through it nearly four years earlier.
She’d had to work, to struggle, to sacrifice to find the joy and the fulfillment. She’d had to choose her paths, her directions, her destinations.
