Thanks to all my reviewers! I was a little nervous I'd scare some of you off with that last chapter, so it was great to hear from you. pixievix, I'm delighted you like the fairytale land thing; this is more my cuppa tea than other parts I was writing, so I'm enjoying it quite a bit too. :D And yes, Kat, Lizzie is acting human again...but I guess we'll see how long that lasts! ::evil snicker:: And, mel, I hope this update was soon enough...and that you still think it's creative and unique. Thanks!
And now on to chapter six....
Chapter 6: Pendulum
They walked all day at the same swift, steady pace, only stopping shortly before sundown in a small clearing that Sunday deemed "adequate." By then, Lizzie's entire body ached, her feet and hips points of sharp pain, and she found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.
Just as she was about to lower herself to the grass near where Wednesday and white brother Friday were clearing the ground for a fire, she heard Saturday give a cheerful halloo. "I have just the task for you!" The energy in his voice made her cringe, and she looked up, expecting to see him charging across the clearing toward her. And he was, arms filled with what looked like several more of the waterskin she'd been drinking out of all day. But instead of meeting her gaze, his eyes were fixed on someone behind her.
"Here, Sir Gordo," he chirped, walking right past her, "one of our simpler tasks for a new traveler like yourself! Just a short distance into those woods over there," Lizzie turned to see Saturday pointing across the clearing, "Sunday spotted a stream with his spectacles. Fill these up for us, there's a good man!" And then the waterskins were in Gordo's arms, Saturday giving a brilliant smile before tromping back the way he came. He paused a mere moment to bow to Lizzie, saying, "Resting, I see, my dear lady! Splendid! Travel is hard work, my mum always used to say!" A few of the other brothers nodded in agreement, then promptly returned to their tasks.
Lizzie turned back to Gordo, not surprised to see his mouth hanging open as he stared at Saturday's receding back. After a long moment, he blinked dazed eyes and looked to Lizzie, mouth curving in a way more tired than wry.
"I guess sexism is still a problem in these here parts," he drawled.
Lizzie met his smile and tottered over, her knees shaky now that she'd been standing still. "Nice to know some things never change, I guess. But come on, let's fill these things." She plucked a few skins from the top of his pile.
"You're coming with me?" His voice was noticeably brighter as he turned in the direction Saturday had indicated.
"Heh. What are friends for? Besides, if there's cold water, I am there."
"Thirsty, McGuire?"
She snorted, shuffling along behind him. "That too. No, I was thinking more along the lines of tossing my whole aching body in. You'll probably have to drag me out."
"Oooh." Gordo waggled his eyebrows over his shoulder at her. "You really think so?"
Lizzie felt her own eyebrows crawling up her forehead. He must be tired. Not that he didn't ever say things like that—he was a guy, a teenage guy—but usually he reserved the innuendos for when other guys were around...and never had he aimed them at her.
Apparently, something along the same lines had occurred to Gordo. He dropped back to walk alongside her, offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I must be a lot more exhausted than I thought."
She laughed it off, butting her shoulder against his lightly. "No kidding, my friend—look who you were teasin' about! Only me!" She slid a glance his way, expecting a laugh. Instead he wore that incredulous glower she remembered so well from middle school.
"What?" he scoffed. "You don't think guys think of you that way?"
Lizzie blinked. "What way?" Did she miss the conversation detour sign?
"Well, you know...." Gordo frowned, flustered. "Like, l-like that." He tried to give an emphatic gesture without dropping the waterskins.
It took Lizzie a moment to interpret, then she laughed. "Wow. We really don't talk about this much, do we?" Gordo rolled his eyes, muttered something. "What?"
"What?" He looked startled. "Oh, uh, I just said," he licked his lips, "I just, uh, said, 'well, it's the season!'" Lizzie stared at him, confused. "Spring," he clarified, "you know, season of the birds and the bees, love, all that fun, er, stuff. Spring," he repeated, clearing his throat.
"Oh." Ooookay. "I guess, yeah. But to answer your question...." She thought about it. "...Yeah, I guess I kinda thought guys thought of me that way. But, well, I just figured that was a guy thing—how guys just think of, like, all girls that way. Not that I was special or anything."
He shook his head. "First of all, most guys don't think of all girls that way, Lizzie. I mean, some of them do, definitely, but the rest of us just think about, well, the hot girls."
Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "'The hot girls'?" she repeated. "Gee, that makes me feel better. Some of you have equal-opportunity imaginations, while the rest of you only fantasize about the hot girls."
"Gimme a break, Liz!" Gordo tossed his head back. "It's not as simple as it sounds, okay? Some guys think one kind of girl is hot, while other guys go for another kind of girl. I'm just saying that if guys think about you like, well, that, it's because they think you're hot, okay? I meant it as a compliment, that you shouldn't be surprised that there are lots of guys who think you're beautiful. Oy!" he muttered, "no wonder we never talk about this!"
Lizzie watched as he stepped up his pace a little, pulling ahead of her. In the remaining daylight, it almost looked like he was blushing. She crooked her arm clumsily around the waterskins to press a hand to her own warm cheek. Yeah, there were probably very good reasons for why they didn't discuss the whole boy-girl thing—the incredible awkwardness they were feeling perhaps one of them—but she couldn't help smiling.
"Gordo," she called, trying to quicken her steps. He cast a brief glance at her. "Thank you. And I'm sorry." He nodded but didn't slow down. "And, uh, if you want, feel free to tell any of those guys they can ask me out."
He gave a short laugh, stopping altogether until Lizzie caught up with him. Then, slinging one arm around her shoulder despite the waterskins, he said, "Ha! Like I'm gonna let anyone who thinks you're hot ask you out!"
She elbowed him in the side. "Gordo!" she protested. "Who else do you think is gonna ask me out?!"
Gordo appeared to mull this over, wrinkling his forehead and folding his mouth into an exaggerated frown. "Uhhh. No one. No one will ask you out—except your friends, of course, but only because they pity your utter datelessness." He cackled. "I should tell your dad this. I think a payment of, oh, say, a half a million dollars should cover all the heartburn and late nights I've saved him...not to mention ammunition for that shotgun of his."
Lizzie glared. "And I think your half a million dollars would be best put to use taking me out for the rest of our lives, since, after all, I won't have anyone else to do it."
But Gordo only smiled, squeezed her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan to me." He released her to gesture ahead of him. "But for now, princess-lady, your bath awaits." Lizzie looked up and there, glimmering through the trees, was a small brook. "Doesn't look quite deep enough to swim around in," Gordo said, "but you can probably soak your feet at least. Just keep 'em downstream while I'm filling these things."
But Lizzie barely heard, wide eyes fixed on all that lovely water. The closer they came, the dirtier her skin felt, covered in sweat and dust kicked up by the tramp through the forest. The brook was too shallow to swim in, but perhaps she could at least wash her face. As they passed the last of the trees on its bank, she turned a sweet smile on Gordo, placed the waterskins she'd taken back on his pile, and fairly flew the last few feet.
The brook ran swift, burbling over a rocky bed, the water clear with a pale brown tint—probably from tannic plants further upstream. Not that she knew much about forest streams, but this one seemed pretty decent. Hitching her skirts above her ankles, she struggled out of one maroon slipper and dipped her toes into the water. It was blessedly cold and she immediately knelt on the edge of the stream, tucking her dress close along her legs before bending to splash water on her face. Gordo had by then settled a short distance away, and she could hear him grousing under his breath as he wrestled to fill one of the waterskins.
Slowly, one by one, his pile of empty skins was replaced with an uneven lump of fat, full ones. In the growing dark they looked almost like animals, drowsing and sated from some feast. Lizzie, knee-deep in the brook and rather drowsy and content herself, couldn't help the giggle that escaped at the sight.
"What's up, McGuire?" Gordo asked from where he lay, wrist over his eyes, boots off, trousers rolled, also knee-deep in the water.
"Nothing, Gordo. I'm just really tired, that's all."
He grunted. "Probably means we should head back to the clearing, huh? Before we fall asleep right here." But he didn't move.
Neither did she. "Yeah. Probably." Silence again fell between them, and Lizzie found herself listening to the gurgle of the water, the rising chirp and buzz of the night insects. Daylight had completely faded by now, but the moon was a bright sliver overhead, and it cast everything in a pale greenish glow.
"Hey, Gordo," she whispered. He hummed. "There's only one moon. D'you think that's weird, seeing as this is a bubble universe and all?"
His wrist slid off his face, eyes blinking up at the sky. "I don't know, Liz. Maybe." He eased up to his elbows, smiled a little. "But for all we know, that moon's not really a chunk of rock in orbit, after all. Maybe it's really some lost god or goddess or the home of really ugly trolls or something. I honestly couldn't even guess."
Lizzie snickered, kicking her feet in the water. "It's sorta fun, you know, being here, where you're just as clueless about this place as I am."
Gordo sighed, sitting up the rest of the way. "Eh, there's a lot of stuff I'm clueless about back home," he muttered, then groaned as he pulled his feet out of the water.
Lizzie too eased out of the brook, standing quickly to twitch her skirts around her legs before the breeze could find them. "Still," she said, eyes fixed on the ground as she tried to dry her feet in the grass, "you know a lot more than me, and, I don't know, it's nice to be able to figure this out with you." She glanced up to meet his eyes briefly, feeling awkward though she couldn't quite understand why. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you know more than me—really. I mean, that's why I can always talk to you about stuff. But this is a nice change, you know?"
Her eyes had fallen away from his as she pulled her slippers on, and when she looked up again he was frowning, his gaze on her yet somehow distant. She watched, wondering if he'd really even heard her, but then his eyes focused again, hard under his drawn brows. He exhaled loudly, opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, orange brother Tuesday came barreling out of the forest.
"There you are, Lady Lizzie!" he called, a great smile blooming on his face. "My brothers and I were worried where you'd run off to! Dinner's almost ready, you know, and you did promise to be our mum while we traveled!" Actually, as far as Lizzie remembered, she hadn't promised any such thing, but Tuesday seemed determined to bring his mum along somehow.
"Ah, yes." She gave a little curtsy. "Well, G—Sir Gordo and I were just resting after we filled the waterskins."
Tuesday looked chagrined. "Oh, of course! Of course, you're probably exhausted, trotting along with us all day." He leaned down and swept all the full waterskins into his arms. "Let us get you back to the fire, where you can eat and then go right to sleep. Don't worry about playing mum tonight, Lady Lizzie!"
"Thanks," Lizzie said, allowing him to usher her in front of him. The whole way back to the campsite, he pointed out branches and rocks and patches of "precipitous moss," his face so concerned that, had his arms not already been full of waterskins, she was certain he would have tried to carry her. She could just imagine the dry smirk she'd find on Gordo's face should that happen.
Fighting back a snicker, she turned to share the joke as soon as they reached the clearing, but Gordo didn't look at all amenable. He was still scowling, shoulders rigid, the muscles around his jaw bunched tight. He looked...angry.
She mumbled thanks as red brother Thursday handed her some cheese, this time accompanied by hot flatbread, and nodded as Saturday cheerfully explained that they should reach the evil sorcerer's castle by midday tomorrow. But the rest of the brothers' conversation faded away. Why was Gordo angry? Had she said something? She thought back over her words....
All she'd said was she was glad he was there with her. And that she was glad she could always talk to him.
Was that it? Was he upset because she hadn't been talking to him lately? Her eyes narrowed. Geez, here they were in some freaking bubble universe and he couldn't forget about that fight, even for a little bit? She'd been complimenting him, for heaven's sake, and now he was angry because she didn't want to talk to him? Her skin flushed hot. Like he'd even been talking to her about the important stuff lately! UCLA summer program, anyone?
And did he think sulking would get her to talk to him about it? About anything? No, if he wanted to talk about something, he'd have to come right out and say it. No sly, subtle schemes to worm a confession out of her! And if he was going to be childish and let their fight stand in the way of working together to get home...well, she'd have to be the adult. She wouldn't get angry at the drop of a hat. She wouldn't go off pouting and refusing to talk to him.
Swallowing the last bite of dinner, she shot a glare at Gordo across the fire. He wasn't looking at her, frowning into the flames as the brothers chatted around him. He wasn't even participating in the conversation! Here were these great people offering them help and Gordo wouldn't even talk to them! Rolling her eyes, she turned away from him and bent toward Thursday.
As soon as the brother explained the sleeping arrangements, Lizzie removed herself a short distance from the circle around the fire. Folding the maroon skirt to lie under her head, she curled up, turned her mind and her face resolutely from Gordo, and was asleep almost instantly.
*********#######*********
By the time the sun and the brothers' low, cheerful murmurs woke her, Lizzie was more than ready to wake up. Her sleep had been anything but restful. All night she'd swung between surfacing into awareness at every pang of her sore body and spiraling dizzy into the dark depths of sleep, where odd, jarring dreams reigned. Blinking away the faint dregs of angry dwarves and red swiss cheese walls that flickered on her eyelids, she squinted into the morning light and eased herself up. Every muscle twinged protest.
"Oof," she groaned, wincing as her neck gave a particularly obnoxious crack. There was no way she would be able to walk today. At all.
"You look as bad as I feel, McGuire," came Gordo's voice from her left. She looked over to see him sitting a short distance away, contorting his shoulders into strange angles, shadowed smudges under his eyes. She had a moment to register he was probably right, then the anger and irritation from the night before flooded in.
What, now he was going to act as though nothing was wrong? As though he hadn't been throwing a little tantrum last night? Right. And they said girls were moody. He was a freaking pendulum! And as far as she was concerned, he could go right on swinging. She wasn't about to forget his behavior so soon!
"Dirk," she muttered low, scowling as she heaved her aching joints up and stumbled over to where some of the brothers were preparing breakfast.
"Lady Lizzie," Saturday greeted, "I trust you slept well." She was saved the trouble of replying as he handed her a piece of flatbread wrapped around some dark blue berries. "Here is your breakfast, my lady, and you can thank Thursday for the berries. He's quite the naturalist, you know."
Lizzie glanced over to see Thursday blushing nearly as red as his tunic. "Thank you," she smiled.
"Oh, no trouble, no trouble," he stammered. "Nanny was always showing me around her garden when I was young. I guess plants just stick in my head." He ducked his head shyly. "If you'd like," he mumbled, "you can walk with me today. I'd love to teach you about any plants we pass. A-and since you're a new traveler, maybe you don't know much about plants."
Lizzie's smile widened. Considering she had no idea how long they'd be here, plant lessons were very appealing—as was the idea that perhaps she and Thursday might travel at a slightly slower pace than the other brothers. Not to mention it would provide her a perfect excuse to avoid Gordo. "You're right, Thursday," she said. "I really don't know much about plants. And I'd be honored to walk with you today."
A grin split Thursday's red cheeks, grateful praise stumbling out of his mouth as a few of his brothers clapped him on the back. Lizzie merely kept smiling and began eating her breakfast, trying to ignore Gordo as he sat down beside her. Suddenly, she was very impatient to start walking.
And soon enough, they did, Sunday in the lead and Lizzie and Thursday quickly falling behind. For a while, Gordo drifted near them, forehead wrinkled as he listened, but shortly after they started out, Saturday dropped back to join him, his quickening pace and rapid tongue leading Gordo further and further away until he too was a distant blotch.
By then, though, Lizzie barely noticed. Thursday was a very good teacher, swift to point out the particular characteristics of a tree or a shrub or an herb, concise in his explanation of its uses or its dangers. Not long into her freshman year, Lizzie had discovered a knack for memorizing such things, and she was thrilled at the ease with which she grasped the red brother's lessons. By midmorning, they were moving much faster, Thursday quizzing her more than he stopped to teach.
At their quicker pace, they managed to catch up with the others just as Sunday was calling them to a halt. Instructing Wednesday to share out some of the bread and cheese for lunch, he cleared his throat and pointed through the trees.
"There," he declared, "that is where the princess is held captive by the sorcerer." Lizzie followed his finger, startled to glimpse far-off fragments of a great stone structure amid the green and sunlight. Of course, Saturday had said last night that they should reach their destination by midday—and both she and Thursday had noted the thinning of the forest as they walked—but the...fortress...was much bigger and much closer than she'd expected.
Gordo was apparently thinking the same thing. "Wow," he breathed from beside her. Surprised to find him so near, her eyes jumped to his. "This is incredible," he whispered with a brilliant grin. For a moment, her own mouth curved in echo, his excitement drawing her along, but then she remembered she was angry at him. Dipping her chin in a short nod, she turned away, flashing her growing smile on Wednesday instead as he handed her a chunk each of bread and cheese.
Biting into her lunch, she leaned against a tree trunk, her back to Gordo as she faced the brothers. Sunday propped one leg on a stump, puffed his chest with a deep breath, and announced, "Eat quickly, brothers! As soon as we have dined, we shall set forth for the fortress!" The brothers immediately began nodding and chewing faster, and Lizzie found herself doing the same. They were going to a fortress—to that huge thing beyond the trees! She'd seen pictures of castles and fortresses before, but she'd never seen one up close and she'd certainly never been inside one. Would this one have a portcullis or a drawbridge or—what were those things along the walls called? Machicolations? This was so incre—
"Are all of us going?" Gordo's voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned an irritated frown his way. He didn't even seem to notice it, gaze fixed on someone behind her, probably Sunday.
"W-well, yes," the eldest brother stammered, obviously caught off guard. "I had intended so."
Gordo shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"What?" The question leapt off Lizzie's tongue louder than she'd intended, and she blushed as everyone's eyes shifted to her. "Sorry," she mumbled.
Gordo just blinked and calmly looked back to Sunday—no doubt well-used to such outbursts from her, Lizzie thought sourly. "Do you have a plan on how to rescue the princess?" he asked.
"U-uh, no, no plan," Sunday admitted.
"Right," Gordo nodded. "But you and your brothers work well as a team, each of you with your own special gift. But Li-Lady Lizzie and I, we don't have any such ability. You're going in blind, not sure what's up there waiting for you. With your speed, your teamwork, and your gifts, you stand a chance of rescuing the princess. Lady Lizzie and I can't bring anything to your group and, frankly, we'd just slow you down. We're still sore from traveling all day yesterday." He paused, eyes flicking around the circle. "It's not that I don't want to go—I'd love to—I just think you'll do better if Lady Lizzie and I stay here."
Lizzie looked to Sunday, chagrined to find a pensive frown creasing his forehead. The other brothers wore similar expressions, seeming to consider Gordo's proposal just as seriously. Lizzie licked dry lips, reaching for some counter argument, some reason to refute Gordo's words, to show the brothers they needed to let her come along. But she had nothing. Gordo had made very good points—as usual—and if she were to argue against them, she'd merely look selfish, putting her curiosity above the quest. Damn him. Her anger notched up another degree.
At last, Sunday spoke. "Yes," he sighed. "I do believe you are right. This is our quest—my brothers' and mine. Stay here, Sir Gordo and Lady Lizzie. Wednesday will furnish you with some food, and if all goes well, we shall return here by nightfall with the princess." The brothers nodded their agreement, and Lizzie sagged a little against the tree at her back. She hadn't expected them to decide otherwise, but it was still disappointing to hear the words spoken.
Thursday reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Don't worry, Lady Lizzie. I shall tell you all about it when we return." She gave him a wan smile, patted his hand, and murmured her thanks. Well, if the brothers truly thought they'd be safer without two extra travelers along, then...so be it. She wouldn't want anyone hurt because of her, especially not when they'd been so kind.
Before she knew it, they were moving again, Lizzie and Gordo walking only as far as the edge of the forest. Then the brothers were gone, hiking across a grassy plain and growing smaller and smaller every moment.
Lizzie settled cross-legged on a wide, fallen tree trunk to watch them go, determined to ignore Gordo's presence.
For a while, it worked. Then shortly after the brothers dwindled to mere spots on the landscape, Gordo seated himself on the log beside her. He mirrored her position, even down to the way she was leaning her chin on one palm, elbow propped on a knee.
"Sooo," he drawled, "didja have fun with Thursday today?"
Lizzie scowled at the field in front of them, trying not to let him goad her into shifting position. She knew from years and years of experience, most of them in elementary school, that he'd just mimic the new one too.
"Yes," she grunted.
"Learn all kinds of new things?"
"Yes."
"Enjoy your stroll through nature?"
"Yes."
"Work off some of your anger?"
"Y—" She caught herself just in time, then glared at Gordo. "What?"
He chuckled, leaned back to cross his arms over his chest. "You just seemed angry this morning, that's all."
"I wasn't angry." She didn't need his raised eyebrows to tell her he knew she was lying. "All right, so I was angry," she conceded. "But you were angry first."
He laughed again. "I was angry first?" he repeated incredulously. "Apart from the fact that I don't see what that has to do with your anger, when was I angry?"
She flushed, uncurling her legs to tuck them carefully against her chest under her skirts. "Last night," she muttered, trying to hold onto her reasoning. When he put it like that, it did sound rather stupid. "At the brook and after Tuesday walked us back to the campsite."
Gordo's eyes went distant, dropping to the log. After a long moment, he looked up again, eyes bright above a rueful grin. "I wasn't angry, Liz," he said.
What? She felt her jaw go slack. "What? Well, you sure seemed like it!" She folded her arms around her knees. "I thought you were angry at me because of that fight we had in my room at home. And then this morning, you acted like everything was fine. And I got angry because—" She stopped. Why had she gotten angry? She thought back...something about a pendulum...? It didn't make sense. "Oy," she groaned. "I don't know." Her cheeks grew hot. "Oy," she moaned again, covering her face.
"Hey, Liz," Gordo murmured, tugging on her hands. She fought him, but eventually he managed to pull them down, his own hands curling around hers and squeezing tight. "Liz," he said, "it's okay, really." She only shook her head, refusing to look at him. "C'mon, Liz. Look at me."
She shook her head again, muttering, "I feel like an idiot." A moody, unreasonable, childish idiot. She tried to think back over the last day, tried to remember what had been running through her head, but all she could recall was emotion—excitement, fear, worry, joy, contentment, frustration, anger, indignation. "I'm the freaking pendulum!" she grumbled, more to herself than to Gordo.
He laughed anyway. "What?" he asked. "You're a pendulum?" His voice was so kind, so confused, she couldn't help but laugh too, appalled when her eyes grew blurry at the same time. She sniffled through the next chuckle, and as she looked up at her best friend, the tears broke free of her eyelids in hot trails along her nose. She tried to draw her hands free of his to brush her face, but he wouldn't let go, his hands rising with hers as she settled on dabbing her nose with her sleeve.
"I'm such a mess," she said, the words thick as she swallowed.
Gordo rolled his eyes, shook his head. "You are not." A smile crooked his mouth. "I mean, yeah, if we were at home, I think you'd be a mess." She giggled a little, and he clenched his hands around hers again. "But, Liz, we're in a very strange place, very far from home, with some very strange people. It's only natural that you'd feel a little at sea. I'm here, and that's something familiar, but I'm sure it doesn't help that shortly before we...arrived...here...we had one humdinger of a fight." He inched closer on the log. "Something like that would be hard enough to sort out at home, but we're not home. We're here, Liz. It's okay to be a mess, all right?"
Lizzie sniffled again and nodded, dabbing at a few more tears. "Still, I'm sorry," she said.
"It's okay." He smiled at her for a moment, then looked down at their hands. His thumbs swept across the tops of her fingers. "Look," he said, voice raspy. He cleared his throat, tried again. "Look, we're tired, we're sore, we're far from home. I think we can expect to be a little weird, okay? But, listen," his eyes rose to hers, "we're all we've got here." He licked his lips. "But we can't be here for each other if we're angry or defensive."
He sighed, the sound seeming to come from deep in his chest. "I don't know what to do about that fight, Liz," he admitted. "I said some things and you said some things, but honestly, I don't know how many of those things I want to apologize for—or receive apologies about. I—" His eyes flicked sideways, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "I can't seem to get my head around it, not enough to figure out what happened that night, what I was thinking. It all feels very far away here, and until I can bring it closer, analyze it, I don't know what to say about it." One hand released hers to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry I can't make that better, Lizzie. But maybe if we resolve to talk about what's bothering us here—any concerns or frustrations or even irritations—we can avoid most of the weird stuff...at least until we get home." A half-smile lit his face. "How does that sound?"
His hand had dropped back to his lap, and Lizzie wrapped her free one around it. He'd spoken in that all-reasonable tone that had helped her through many a crisis, his voice soothing even as parts of her tensed, anxious, at the mention of the fight. Some deeper part of her recognized his honesty and the wisdom in his words, though, and at his question she found herself nodding. "It sounds good, Gordo," she said, throat tight with leftover tears. "I'll try to talk to you about stuff before it becomes some kind of huge...thing...like it did this morning."
He smiled. "Good. And I'll try and tell you what's actually on my mind instead of letting you just read it from my face."
She laughed a little, added, "And read it wrong."
"Eh. So you aren't an expert on David Gordon face reading...." Gordo shrugged. "You're still more of an expert on the plants of this...place...than I am. My plan to eavesdrop was a spectacular failure. Tell me some of the stuff Thursday taught you."
Grinning, she released his hands, and did just that.
****
end of chapter 6