Page 9 of Now That It's You
It was both of those things, but Kyle put his hand over hers and Meg decided disrespectful and nuts might not be the worst thing in the world.
“Let’s go,” he said.
For a second, Meg thought he wanted to leave, and she got up and turned toward her car. But Kyle rose beside her and cleared his throat. “Behold!” he announced, hoisting his marshmallows overhead. “I am honored to join forces with our new allies in a quest to seek the chalice. I am trained in various forms of combat, while my lady is a respected healer with great skill in treating battle wounds.”
“Indeed,” Meg heard herself saying as she shifted to stand beside Kyle. “I also know many spells and am joined by my invisible dragon, uh . . . Fallopian.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh. None of their new teammates broke character, and the woman in the purple gown extended her hand. “I am Trinity Leaftree of the western stone elf tribe.”
“And I am Ufnar Gnarlug,” the ogre volunteered, resting a hand over his heart. “My clan and I giveth thanks for your alliance.”
Sir Reginald doffed his horned helmet and gave a dramatic bow. “Sir Reginald Ironroot Roundbear, at your service.”
“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Kyle said. “I am Sir Tonsillectomy Xanthan Gum.”
Meg snorted, then coughed to cover her laughter. She extended her hand to Sir Reginald, who promptly planted a kiss across her knuckles. She tried to think of a name that didn’t sound like a disease or a moniker for a fat poodle. “I am Empress Cattywampus Dipthong.”
“And her fierce dragon, Fallopian,” Kyle added, pretending to stroke the beast’s neck.
Trinity grabbed Meg’s arm and gestured toward the woods. “My lady, I suggest we move south to lay an ambush to thwart invaders from the east.”
“I concur,” Ufnar agreed, scratching his chin with a hand coated in green makeup.
Meg glanced at Sir Reginald, pretty sure he was a teller at her bank, or maybe a clerk in the men’s department at Macy’s.
But for now he was Sir Reginald, and Meg was Empress Cattywampus and Kyle was whoever the hell he’d said he was, and none of them were regular people dealing with mortgages or jobs or grief that threatened to grab them by the ankles and pull them right through the ground and into the soft, damp dirt. The thought of being someone different made Meg a little dizzy with excitement and maybe a twinge of guilt.
“Lady Cattywampus, did you bring Fallopian’s leash?” Kyle asked.
“Indeed,” she said, holding up the invisible tether for her invisible dragon. “It is one made of rainbows and cobwebs.”
“Then we shall see if our last round of dragon obedience training hath paid off.”
Beside her, Sir Reginald thrust his foam sword into the air. “Long live the king!”
“Long live the king!” Meg repeated, throwing her fist in the air.
“All hail his majesty!” Ufnar hoisted his rubber ax, and Meg wished she had time to round up a weapon of her own. She settled for patting her invisible dragon on the head.
“Have a lightning bolt,” Kyle said, handing her a marshmallow.
“Thank you.” Her fingers grazed his as she took it, and she reminded herself this was wrong on so many levels.
But something about it felt right, too. Matt would have laughed at them for sure, which made the whole thing seem okay in a way.
“Let us journey forth,” announced Trinity, her purple gown fluttering in the breeze as she turned and ran toward the woods.
Ufnar and Sir Reginald followed, weapons raised in the air as they jogged into the trees. Reginald’s horned helmet fell off and he chased after it for a few steps, stumbling as he ran.
Meg looked at Kyle. “You sure you’re okay with this? It’s a little weird.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“I guess so.”
“Matt would die, wouldn’t he?” Kyle grimaced. “God, that just slipped out.”
“It’s okay. You’re right though. He’d think this was nuts.”
