"Forty years ago, The Beatles asked the world a simple question. They wanted to know where all the lonely people came from. My latest theory is that a great many of the lonely people are deathly afraid of rejection - of getting hurt. Which means that at the end of the day, all we really have is ourselves and nothing in this world can make you feel more alone than that.
400 hundred years ago, another well known English guy had an opinion about being alone. John Donne, he thought we were never alone. Of course, it was fancier when he said it. 'No man is an island entire to itself.' Boil down that island talk and he just meant that all any one needs is someone to step in and let us know we're not alone. And who's to say that someone can't be someone who's been there all along?"
Eimile Ó Rourke
As the weather was still too cold to sit outside, Sarah had taken to having her tea and reading in the conservatory most often these days. She realized she had forgotten the book she wanted, and went upstairs to the master chambers to retrieve it.
As she the turned the corner, she could hear the laughter of a girl and Jareth's patient voice explaining something.
Setting foot in the bedroom, she saw Jareth sitting at her dressing table with a lovely dark-haired girl. Saoirse. This time she looked to be about 13 or 14 years old.
Sarah's make up was out, and Jareth had been applying eyeliner, shadow, and highlighter to one of Saoirse's eyes. She looked delighted and turned toward Sarah.
"What do you think, Mom?"
"I think you look frighteningly like your father," Sarah said. "When I first met him."
"Well," said Jareth, "She does have my eyes." There was the undertone of a chuckle in those words.
"You're too young to be wearing make up like that," said Sarah. This was her matter of fact, 'don't argue with me' tone.
Both Jareth and Saoirse pouted. Sarah was struck by how similar they looked.
"I just wanted to come back and get some make up tips from Da before I actually start wearing it on my own," Saoirse explained. "And I figured, who better to ask?" She grinned at her father.
Jareth leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, with a smug smile on his face. Sarah looked at them both with one eyebrow raised.
"So you approached your father with this instead of me?"
Saoirse hastened to clarify. "Mom, unless you're going out, you just don't wear very much make up. And Da has been doing it for hundreds of years, as the 'spectacular Goblin King,' so I just thought he might know more…" she finished off, lamely.
Sarah sighed. "Honey, it's not that my feelings are hurt, I just don't think that it is age-appropriate for you to be running around looking like that." Jareth looked offended.
"You have to admit love, no one knows their way around a make up kit like I do," He inserted.
"And you do, and I get that your look is part and parcel of your station and character," Sarah replied. "But Saoirse, you're what right now? 13? 14?"
"I'm 13." Saoirse's voice was beginning to have an edge. Their daughter had many of both of their characteristics, one of which was stubbornness. Sarah and Jareth shared a look.
"Love," said Jareth to Saoirse, "I think your mother is simply saying that perhaps we can tone things down a bit for now. You'll be older before you know it, and then you are free to experiment with make up as much as you'd like. Here, look at me so that I can do your other eye more moderately. Then you can tell me what you think." He looked around Saoirse at his wife, who nodded approvingly.
Sarah found her book, and since her "older" daughter was here, decided to stick around. She sat cross legged on the bed, quietly enjoying the father daughter banter.
There was a brief knock on the door frame and Eimile walked in. She had healed enough now so that she no longer needed crutches. She looked at Jareth and Saoirse, then at Sarah, sitting on the bed.
"Nothing like a father/daughter make up session," she noted, smiling at Sarah. Sarah just rolled her eyes.
"Hi, Aunt Eimile." Saoirse waved at her but did not move her head as Jareth was working his artistry on her face.
Eimile threw herself on the bed next to Sarah, elbows on the bed, chin in hand. "Hey yourself, Rebel. Geez. I can never get used to your little pop up appearances. How old are you right now anyway?"
"13," she responded. She was trying to keep her mouth still so that her father could apply a peach gloss to her lips.
"And you were just, what? Seven when I caught you in the kitchen yesterday?" Eimile asked.
Both Sarah and Jareth looked at one another and said "What?" at the same time.
"Oh, yeah," Eimile responded casually. "The little princess over here has figured out that the kitchen staff have a soft spot for her, so when she feels like a snack, say, a cookie," and here she looked at Saoirse, "and you won't give her one, she just does her little time traveling bit and they give her whatever she wants."
Saoirse turned to give her aunt a look of complete betrayal.
"Oh dear. Did I say that out loud?" Eimile smirked.
Saoirse slitted her eyes at her aunt, looking just like her mother for a second. Then she flounced back around so that Jareth could finish her make up.
Jareth was holding a make up brush between his teeth, but managed to say, "Young lady, we are going to have a talk about this traveling to the kitchen which you are doing. If your mother and I don't want you to have a snack before dinner, there's a good reason."
"Namely proper nutrition," said Eimile, examining her fingernails. Saoirse huffed.
"There! What do you think?" Jareth turned Saoirse so that she could look into the mirror. She was still definitely wearing make up, but it had been toned down to allow her freshness and youth to shine through.
Saoirse smiled at her reflection, then turned to hug her father. "Thanks, Da! You did a lot of cool things there that I'm still not sure how to do, so is it okay if we have a few more sessions?"
Jareth smiled, and Saoirse made her way to the bed to hug her mother. "You," she told her aunt, "don't get a hug."
"Fine with me, Stinkerbelle," shot back Eimile. She grinned at her."Fist bumps?"
Saoirse gave her a wry smile and they bumped knuckles. Then she glittered out of the room.
Eimile looked at the glitter on the carpet and laughed. "And it's purple! How perfect for royalty!"
Jareth grumbled. "It's also one of my signature moves."
"Well, Da, what is it they say about imitation and sincere flattery?" Eimile asked, grinning.
"That's what I told him," said Sarah, "but you know your brother, where there's glitter involved, he gets a little possessive." She looked at Eimile. "Why are you here anyway? What's up?"
Jareth interrupted. "You two are going to be up to something, I can smell it! I'm leaving and will see you later." He gave Sarah an air kiss as he walked out the door.
~~~Ó~~~
Eimile flipped onto her back and sighed. "I don't know if I'm up to this relationship thing."
"What? Tadgh?" asked Sarah. "You've only been on a few official dates so far, how do you know? And have you – "
"No," Eimile said irritably. "Just kissing."
"Love," she snorted. "Did you know that neurologists Above will tell you that it activates the same part of the brain as a habit forming addiction? It makes us feel like we can do anything, be anything, achieve anything. And once we taste it, we want more. The thing about love is, when it's good, it's so very good. And when it's bad, it hurts so much. And if you can't find a way to balance all those ups and downs, it'll drive you crazy." She threw her arm over her eyes.
Sarah moved closer to her, a big smile on her face. "You said the word love," she said in a singsong voice.
"Shut up. And yes, I did. Partly thanks to you. Here I was, having fun, casual sex and no commitments, and then you and Tadgh decide to come and change my mind." She glared at Sarah from underneath her arm. "I'm telling you, if I get hurt and torn apart by all of this I'm blaming you!"
Sarah just snickered. "Welcome to the Dark Side."
"He's all I can think about lately," complained Eimile. "And it's ridiculous. It's all the damn time. And all these things about him that I never noticed before, when we were just friends, all of these things are just making me crazy for him….."
Sarah laid down next to her, patting her shoulder sympathetically. "I really do know what you're going through, you know. And yes, it's scary. But trust me, and you know I've said this before, but anything worth having is worth taking a risk for."
They both lay there silently for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling.
Then Sarah said, "So when are you going to see him next?"
"Tonight actually. He's asked me to dinner at The Glass Onion."
"Ooh," Sarah nodded approvingly. "The gourmet bistro in the Elven quarter?"
"Yes," Eimile replied, "And before you ask, I know exactly what I'm going to wear, so I'm all set." Suddenly she sat up.
"Do you remember what you told me once?"
Sarah looked confused. "I've told you lots of things."
"You know, the thing you said when you said that knowing is better than wondering. Waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beats the hell out of never trying? That."
"Wow. I really said that? That's pretty good." Sarah winked at her.
"Yeah, well. Your weird voodoo is working. I feel clear. I feel clear as to what I want, and I don't feel guilty about trying to get it. I'm going to tell him I love him." She hopped off the bed and left the room.
Sarah wrapped her arms around her knees and smiled. The next best thing to falling in love yourself was watching it happen to a friend.
~~~Ó~~~