Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 93

She gazed at me. "Not that I wish to become involved, but is everything well with you and Noctorno?"

It was not.

Oh no.

Definitely not.

One could say, tragically accurately, I had not been dealing with things well.

But last night I made things worse.

Starting the morning some days ago after his father's phone call, Noc had decided that he was going to ignore what occurred. He'd swept away the distant mood he'd treated me to the evening before and again became Noc.

This was, until he came home that evening and I attempted to broach the subject.

"Told you last night, not in the mood to talk about it," he'd replied brusquely.

"Will there be a time you'll be in the mood?" I'd inquired hesitantly.

"I am, I'll let you know," he'd stated conclusively.

And the subject, according to Noc, was done.

I will admit, my approach was weak and I'd allowed him to dismiss the discussion mostly because he again became aloof and I didn't like it. Indeed, it frightened me enough I knew it would take some time for me to gather the courage to try again.

Therefore I gave it that time (again weak, gads!) That time included the weekend.

A weekend where Noc worked on the Sat.u.r.day, but it was the first he'd done so in a way I felt he was doing it to avoid me.

But after a morning driving lesson on Sunday (where he allowed Josette to go on actual streets and where I had the hair-raising-but eventually I'd settled into it-experience of driving on a freeway), he'd relaxed. This meant I felt my Noc with me again as we spent the afternoon and evening drinking and munching on a variety of food in a bar with Glover while watching some sport on television.

I told myself as the days pa.s.sed that I was allowing Noc time to cope in his head with whatever had gone on with his father, so when I approached him again he'd be more conducive to such.

But mostly I was bolstering my courage.

This I'd decided was bolstered enough last night, a now-unusual evening when Noc came home from work before six.

It started out well considering I'd perused his cupboards and had managed to arrange (quite artfully, to my way of thinking) some crackers and slices of cheese on a plate for him to nibble on with the beer I'd opened for him when he got home.

I did this, for nearly every evening he arrived home and declared he was hungry. Although I couldn't cook a splendid meal for him, I could do something to a.s.suage his hunger.

Noc had put a slice of cheese on a cracker, doing this with his arm around my shoulders, holding me tucked to his side, and declaring through a smile, "Next thing I know, I'm gonna be coming home to beef Wellington."

I couldn't stop the face I made, one likely of revulsion mixed with terror, which made Noc emit a deep bark of laughter before he kissed me quickly and pulled away, putting the cracker and cheese into his mouth.

As he munched, I decided to broach the subject later, when he had a full stomach and thus would be in good humor for a variety of reasons.

He was indeed in good humor.

I made note of that and decided henceforth to be certain there were a variety of nibbles in the house I could arrange artfully on a plate for him to be treated to when he came home.

Alas, his good humor vanished the moment I mentioned his father's call.

"You need to let up on that, babe," he'd stated tersely, drawing away from me where we were snuggled on the couch, Noc sitting with feet up on the coffee table, me nestled into his side with my legs curled beside me on the seat.

His terse tone brooked no further discourse.

Even so, I knew I could not be weak. I could not give up. Not on Noc.

No more excuses.

"There are things, darling, that I think we should discuss and they aren't entirely what occurred during that call with your father. However, I sense that there was something there-"

"Franka," he started, taking his feet from the table, and the frigid way he said my name not only made me snap my mouth shut, it made my insides freeze. "You've made an art of sticking your nose in s.h.i.+t and I see you've decided to stick it in this. What I've been sayin' that you've not been hearing is that this is not somewhere you can go."

I didn't wish to persevere.

But I had to.

"I thought you said what was yours was mine."

"And what I'm sayin' now is that I don't even want this, so I'm sure as f.u.c.k not givin' it to you."

That didn't make sense.

"Noc-"

"Let it go, Frannie."

"But-"

His face transformed to granite, and having that hard look aimed at me, my throat closed.

"I'm warning you. Let...it...go."

And with that, he left me on his couch and prowled to the bedroom, his closing of the door behind him telling me I was not invited to follow.

I did not follow.

I sat still on the couch, staring at the door, hearing his words.

I'm warning you.

Warning me of what?

Let it go.

The coward in me wanted to do that.

But I knew I shouldn't.

Some time later, when I'd gathered the courage to join him in the bedroom, I found it dark, and as far as I could tell, Noc was asleep.

I joined him in bed and didn't wake him.

But I did curl into his back which was turned to my side of the bed.

He did not s.h.i.+ft to further accommodate my cuddle.

It was the first night we did not end the day making love.

And it was the first night I did not sleep within Noc's embrace.

Thus it was not a surprise I was awake hours later when he woke, doing so without the aid of his alarm.

He did not turn into me.

He got out of bed, doing it cautiously as I feigned sleep, and he went to the bathroom, prepared for work, and left the bedroom-and the house-leaving me abed undisturbed.

And thus we had the first morning when we started a day without making love.

However, after I'd dragged myself from his bed, I'd found a note propped on the coffeemaker that read: Sugarlips, Coffee's good to go. All you have to do is flip the switch.

Just call Valentine to come get you when you're ready.

See you tonight.

Love you, babe.

-Noc- Although the note started and ended in ways that were heartening, he'd made his point very clear.

His warning was understood.

It was now my decision to heed it or proceed as planned, even if, in truth, I had no plan.

"Franka!" Valentine snapped and again brought me back to reality.

"My apologies, I not only have much on my mind, I slept little last night," I attempted to excuse my rudeness.

"Are you prepared to take on this a.s.signment?" she asked.

"Will I have your oversight?" I asked in return.

"Of course," she answered.

"Then yes, I'm ready," I told her.

She studied me another moment before stating, "You didn't answer my question about Noc."

"All is well," I lied.

She knew I lied, I could see it in the shrewd look in her eyes, but I held her gaze, my chin lifted, my meaning clear.

She had her business that wasn't mine, even if I wanted to be there for her to a.s.sist in any way I could.

I had mine.

She gave in. "We'll work the spell tomorrow."

I inclined my head.

She tipped hers to the door. "I suggest you watch this maintenance man and ascertain the best way we can make an approach without detection. We need to be close to cast a love spell and he should be alone. He doesn't simply get stars in his eyes, seek out our client and sweep her off her feet. My work is much more subtle than that. Therefore, yours will be too."

I nodded and stood.

Having been dismissed, and glad for it, I made my way from her magic room to head to the room below where my crystal ball was waiting for me.

I'd nearly made the door when she called, "Franka."

I turned to her.

Her gaze locked to mine.

"All will be well," she said quietly.

I hoped she was correct, but the first time since Noc entered the sitting room I was in at the Winter Palace months ago, I felt my hopes would be dashed.

I said not a word and swept from the room.

I went to my crystal ball, but when I got there, I did not call up this "maintenance man" (whatever that was).

I stared at it thinking other thoughts.

Dismal thoughts.

Fearful thoughts.

Insecure thoughts.

Doing all this finding myself entirely unable to stop it or the growing emotion that rose up inside me, making me feel useless and unworthy of the man who loved me enough to steer me beyond a lifetime of pain when I could not offer the same.

Therefore, when ten digits appeared in my crystal ball, I was startled.

I knew not what they meant or even how they appeared.

I had not called for them (whatever they were).

However, they didn't go away.