Son and Throne - Diana Knightley Page 0,107

a long neck beer out of a bucket of ice, popped the cap, and chugged some. “If the food was better I’d go back in a second.”

We all held up our drinks and cheered.

Fraoch said, “Slainte!”

I teased Fraoch, while I pried open an oyster, “And you haven’t even gotten started on the eating yet. I mean this is great, right? But what’s the next course? That’s what you should be asking yourself, Fraoch, not just ‘this is great’ but also, ‘what’s next?’” I slid an oyster onto a saltine cracker with a bit of cocktail sauce, and fed it to Fraoch.

Zach said, “Next is my famous shrimp and grits: Locally caught shrimp, sautéed with andouille sausage, peppers, and onions, in a Tasso gravy over Blue Dog Farms stone-ground grits, finished with homemade green tomato and Datil pepper chutney. You know, the best fucking shrimp and grits around.”

Emma had her hands full feeding Isla so Zach fed her some steamed oysters. She looked down at Isla. “Oysters and shrimp and grits, this was the meal that used to get Magnus all misty-eyed.”

We all sighed fondly at the memory.

Fraoch said, “I daena ken what half the words mean, but it sounds delicious.”

Zach said, “For dessert, Key lime pie.”

I said, “Scurvy protection covered in whipped cream, perfect.”

We ate so much food. With the kids we walked out on the boardwalk between the main course and the desert. Then we got extra whipped cream because I goaded the boys into begging for it. Then Beaty put the boys to bed. Emma put Isla to bed. Then us adults all sat around the kitchen island again and talked and laughed.

Zach told Fraoch about the refrigerator and the microwave and some other things that were happening, but then Fraoch leaned his head toward mine. I asked, “You tired? Cause I’m exhausted.”

“Aye,” he said.

I led him upstairs to our room.

I went to the bathroom and when I came out he was pressing the mattress testing the softness. He had his borrowed clothes in a pile on the floor and I added to my list: take Fraoch clothes shopping.

I changed into a T-shirt and we climbed into bed under the pile of soft covers. Though it was hot outside they were necessary because it was cool inside, the perfect temperature, always a little colder than necessary.

I pulled the covers up to his chin. “What do you think so far?”

In answer he asked, “What is the wind?”

“It’s called the air conditioning. You can push a button for hotter or for colder.”

He nodded and seemed to be thinking about something. “The lights, they are similar tae the ones Quentin...?”

“Yes, those were portable, these plug into the wall and draw their electricity through wires.” I leaned up and showed him the cord, but he didn’t really try to see it, he just continued staring at the ceiling.

“What is this?”

A ceiling fan slowly spun. “It’s for cooling off the room, though it’s plenty cold enough. It’s just extra.” I snuggled into the sheets. “That’s half of what’s so great about this time, everything is extra. Food, temperature, beds. Doesn’t the bedding feel great? Isn’t the smell fabulous?” I curled up against his chest.

I looked up at his face. “I know it’s really hard to—”

“Am I tae help guard the walls this night? I forgot tae ask Master Quentin, and he dinna tell me.”

“No, I mean, you won’t need... not tonight. I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. Tonight he’s letting you rest.”

Seventy-three - Hayley

We made love right before dawn. This was the time of the morning he usually went to guard duty so he was awake. He shifted beside me and I slowly woke as he touched and felt and pulled me close. It was lovely in our warm comfortable bed. After we were finished we slept a little more until the bagpipes sounded.

He asked, “What is...?”

I groaned loudly. “Beaty, she gets up too early to play the pipes. You want to come see?”

“Aye.”

We dressed and rushed down to the front porch. All I could think of to say was, “Jesus Christ.“ Beaty was in shorts, knee-high rainbow socks, wind blowing through her neon-green hair because she was rollerskating around the circular drive while playing Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes on the bagpipes. Ben and Archie were on tricycles riding around her making vroom vroom noises as if they were very important to the whole show.

Beaty swirled in reverse, a wide arc that Ben and Archie crossed in front of, yet

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