"You need to eat, wake up." An irritated, yet familiar voice bellowed into my ear. I opened my eyes, blinked and quickly covered them again. The light was agony, for currently I was suffering from a horrible headache. I heard myself groan, and I tried to roll over into the pillows which turned out to be my one way ticket to the floor. I must have been on the couch, not my bed. The resulting thud, and laughter from Bran, served as confirmation that yes, this was really happening.
"You might want to grab that blanket back, unless you're trying to give me a view of your backside." Bran said matter-of-factly. I snatched it from the couch and covered myself as fast as possible, fully aware that my face was on fire. Thank the Lord I still had undergarments on. "I would have dressed you, but it seemed wiser to let you do that for yourself" He said. He was right, had I woken up any differently then I went to sleep I would have panicked, although I don't remember going to sleep really, just a random assortment of memories. It bothered me a little that he would know that about me. It bothered me even more that he was able to move me from the floor to the living room without waking me.
"Thanks" was all I could say as I sat up and kept my eyes firmly on the floor. The memories of the last few hours were flooding back to the fore of my thoughts. I hadn't sufficiently worked them out before. One in particular seemed vitally important. "Are you dressed" I squeaked? I didn't like how weak I sounded, but I just really didn't want to look up and see a nude man wondering around my house. Bran, fully dressed, crouched down before me. He gently lifted my face to see his. The moment I found his eyes, everything settled again, the world stopped spinning around in my mind. I sighed, and rested the weight of my head into the warmth of his hand. The oddness of my reaction, brought reality thundering back, a deep red flush reclaiming its proper place on my face; I froze. Bran's thumb was softly stroking my cheek, the full weight of his eyes on me. I felt the tickle of fear, and something else in my stomach.
"You are afraid of me." Bran said pulling his hand away. On impulse I grabbed his wrist, before he could pull it back. Looking him in the eyes, I told him no, then kissed the palm of his hand. It was the truth, I wasn't afraid of him, I was afraid of how he made me feel. My stomach took the opportunity then to break up the awkward moment by growling. "I'm hungry," I said sheepishly. "I'm going to find clothes, then I will find food, but before that, I will find aspirin. My head is splitting. When it stops doing that I want to talk about this morning." When I stood up, had the blanket secured around the important parts, and was satisfied that I could indeed walk to the kitchen, I did just that; ignoring Bran trying not to be obvious as he watched me out of the corner of his eyes. I had just drunk the last of the water with my tablets when a soft knock came at the door. I opened the link between me and the world winced because my head was pounding but managed none the less to find that my visitor was annoyed, curious, and hungry. He was also whatever Bran was. I could tell the difference now, because Bran had presented me with an uncontaminated example earlier today. I started for the door, but hesitated. Bran didn't want whoever that was to see me without clothes on and had I not been so out of it, I wouldn't have forgotten that I wasn't dressed myself. His jealous protective response was like a loud speaker voice in my mind, which didn't serve to ease the pain of my headache so well. That earned him one of my best looks. He had not staked any claims on me. I didn't care who was on the other side of this door, he didn't have a right to govern me that way.
"Bran," I said a little sharply, "do you know who is there?" I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb to the door. He was leaning on the arm of the chair, legs crossed at his heals along with his arms for the entire world trying to look calm. He knew I was annoyed with him, which truthfully made me feel bad. I would have just talked to him about it, had I not been so miserable. I sighed, walked over to him and looked at his face. "Bran, I'm sorry," I lied, "I'm sorry" I said again more truthfully, "I'm just going to go put some clothes on ok? Then I'll make us some food." His relief flooded the room like a sweet smell. Pushing his way off the couch, he gently kissed the top of my head before moving past me to the door. Whoever this was, it must be important for him to be here. I can't imagine Bran dragging someone way out here for a small case of hypothermia, especially when I was so obviously fine now. When I got into my bathroom, my reflection was stunning. Dark streaks of mascara were racing down my face towards my chin. My hair was larger than usual do to the static cling from my hat. I was going to have to take a shower. The warm water was wonderful for my headache. The aspirin kicked in, while I was rinsing my hair out, and I found that some of my spunk was returning. I emerged from the shower, dressed myself in my most comfortable sweat pants, and cotton Tee, and pulled my hair back into a loose pony tail. I was going to make sloppy Joes, but found an entire meal waiting for me on the table, with my new house guest and Bran already eating. They seemed to be happy to see one another, and I saw Bran reach over and swipe at the other man in a playful manner. The true joy on his face brought a warm happiness to my heart. I started forward and was midway to the table when they both turned and looked at me. In that one moment the testosterone was nearly palpable. My new house guest was big, and had a handsome in his roughness sort of look. I didn't mistrust him, but knew without a doubt, that if he tried something, I would lose, and while he didn't look like the type, there was an edge to him that didn't scream harmless. I looked at Bran then, and I didn't want him to see the anxiety that was rolling around in my stomach, so I smiled instead. I don't think it worked, because he got up and escorted me back to the table, pausing beside my chair, pulling it out in a very old fashioned but appreciated gesture.
"Jessica, this is my eldest son, Samuel Cornick" Bran stated. I sat down, and looked him over again, did he say eldest son? He looked to be the same age as Bran. I let it go, Bran obviously was not human, and who knew how children worked for him. "Hello Samuel, it's a pleasure to meet you." I extended my hand out and he shook it normally. The first true communication you give to a person happens when you shake their hand. I personally hate goo hands, especially from a man, but even more than that, I hate death grips. Samuel wasn't trying to overpower me, nor was he afraid of me; he established an even playing field, which eased my anxiety a lot. Most people don't lie with their body language, even when they think they are hiding something.
"Hello," he said in a cheery way that I knew to be false by the weary look in his eyes, "I heard you got a little chilly outside today? You seem to be doing better now?"
"Yes, much better, thank you." I responded a little cautiously. Bran had obviously shared with him our little experience. He smiled and started to resume whatever it was he and his father were discussing before I sat down. Truthfully I wasn't paying any attention to what that was precisely. I wanted to reach out to him from the moment I laid eyes on him, but I wasn't sure how Bran would feel about that, and there was no real need to do so. Suddenly I was curious to see if Bran would be able to tell if I was or not, and felt a little pang of guilt for considering it as viable excuse to even try. In the end my curiosity won out and I reached out towards Samuel carefully. I only wanted to hear him not Bran, or the gig was up. I wouldn't be able to hear as much this way, but it wasn't about what I found, Bran trusted him, and that was enough; it was about my experiment or distraction, whichever way you choose to look at it. I envisioned a tunnel coming from me, and I forced it to narrow down to almost a cone. This was the only way so far I was able to focus my gift, which left out details yet magnified other things. For a fleeting moment I thought to use that theroy on individual things at a later time. For now, Samuel was happy, truly happy for his father, but there was darkness surrounding that happiness. I wondered at what he was happy about exactly, and what was fueling the darkness? He was also trying to tone himself down because I was fearful of him. That little bit of knowledge was interesting. I knew he scared me, but how did he? Did I make a weird face? Then I remembered Bran asking me the same question earlier. I slowly pulled away, making a mental note to retouch that topic with Bran later. I felt a slight zing of joy at the fact that so far I seemed to be in the clear, I would have to ask Bran later if he noticed what I was doing or not. I smiled a little wider, and sat back into my chair, examining the spread on the table. To my amazement, there was a lot of meat, and plenty of vegetables all set out into individual bowls for the one meal that was my very favorite. Tacos! My mouth was watering at the smell of it all, and realized I must have been out a little longer than I thought for Bran to have been able to prepare all this. How did I miss the smell of this cooking earlier? I took a deep breath, and started to serve the food, when Samuel said "Wait Jessica." I stopped what I was doing and looked at him, a little startled. I was about to ask why, when surly as the sky is blue he pulled a small pen flashlight out of his breast pocket.
"What are you doing" I asked? He flashed the light in both my eyes, and I blinked from the brightness. "My Da didn't tell you that I am a medical doctor did he" he asked charismatically? Was that supposed to make me relax or just distract me? I rubbed my eyes, and sat back into my seat. "No, he didn't." I said as I gently bumped Bran with my shoulder in his chair next to mine. "Surprise!" I said with mock enthusiasm. Bran chuckled and bumped me back. I know I had a cheesy smile on my face, but I didn't care. I was happier in this moment than I had been sense my Gramps passed. I looked up at Doctor Samuel Cornick, who was giving me and his father a vaguely nauseous look, that I was almost sure wasn't truly how he felt. When I asked him if I could please eat now or would he be assaulting me further with bright lights, he just laughed so I served myself some food. The next hour or so was wonderful. The food was great, the coffee I made us was as well, and the company was fun. The harshness of the morning was long behind me, and for the first time in a long time, I was laughing and having fun and that was all.
I looked up at the clock, and was shocked to see it was nearly nine! Thankfully, I had already pressed my clothes for the next day, and written out what I wanted to say during the service. The reminder of the sadness the next day would bring brought a sudden weight on my heart. I let out a small sigh, and tried to bring myself back into the conversation as a means of distraction. To my dismay, both Bran and his son were staring at me, obviously fully aware that I had not been paying attention. Did they ask me something? I searched frantically for something, anything, which would justify my obvious trip to lala land and back. I did not want to have a crying fit at this dinner table.
"I'm going to clear away some of these dishes; I'll be just a moment. Can I get either of you anything while I'm up?" I said as I stood up, a big dorky smile plastered on my face. I grabbed a few things, and started on my way towards the kitchen when no one answered right away. I may not have really given them time to, I was so eager to get away from their all seeing eyes, and secret way of knowing things. I had prided myself on hiding my real feelings from my face for many years. Knowing what perfect strangers were worried, angry, excited about, on a day to day basis, had trained me to do so, and mostly it worked. How then were these two men so capable of figuring me out? I had made my way to the kitchen, and scraped the dishes, when I felt hands on my shoulders. I knew it was Bran, because his presence came with a desire to calm and soothe that was unique to him, as with any persons emotions, except Bran's were more so, not to mention I didn't hear him walk behind me. I felt relaxed almost instantly, and found myself leaning back into him. He kissed the back of my head, because currently my chin was to my chest, my eyes tight shut to hold back the tears. How did this man disarm me so easily?
"There is so much more to you, Bran Cornick, than I believe I will ever be able to discover." I said almost to myself. I immediately felt his sadness descend like a dark cloud around us. I didn't like that. What did I say that made him feel that way? I turned around and searched his face for some clue. He looked as he always did, as though he was just observing and thinking. A perfectly content man with nothing to lose in the world: everything under control. The next words came out of my mouth, before I thought them through, which was certainly nothing new.
"I see you Bran, I see you." My eyes narrowed, and my arms crossed with the comment. "Yes, my dear, you certainly do, and I am afraid it certainly will be the death of me," he said with a smile, "although it will be an amusing time until then." That comment was odd. He didn't sound too upset about it, but he meant what he said just the same, I felt the surety in his words. I decided it didn't matter just now, and I didn't feel so overwhelmed with sadness anymore either. What do ya know!
"Well, then, until you kick the bucket, I have dishes to finish, and you have a son to chat with. Now go away!" I said with a smile on my face and humor in my voice. Apparently amused by my dismissal, he stepped back, started to walk away, but at the last second spun around and planted a kiss smack on my nose. Then he reached up and pinched it, not hard, but enough that I was left crossed eyed. I looked back at him, and reached up for my nose. Did he just do that? I couldn't help but laugh out loud. His eyes were dancing with humor despite his stoic look. Once he left I found that the dishes, something I usually did while pondering complicated things in my life, went by with thoughts of Bran and his son. It was a welcome relief.
Once I had completed cleaning the kitchen, had the dishwasher running and the table wiped down, I found my way into the living room where my friends were chatting. I sat down on the love seat opposite of them, nearest to the fire place, which was currently roaring with a wonderful fire. I liked that my guests made themselves at home this way. I prided myself that I didn't make them feel as uncomfortable as not to welcome themselves to any of the comforts I had to offer here. My Gramps was better at this than me. I smiled this time at his memory, and noticed a small orange book in one of the baskets near the fire place that held old magazines. It was my grandmothers, a gift to her mother which she had reclaimed when my Nona died. Seeing that Bran and Samuel were deep in conversation and in another language at that, I started to browse through it. With the warm fire, the little book, and a wonderful meal in my stomach, I of course dozed off right there in the love seat.