Page 10 of Confessions of a Middle Aged Dragon Queen
“Oh, don’t mind her,” Maisie huffed. “She’s just talkin’ to herself, or the boys, or Aideen. She does it all the time.”
I guess my little sister was already over my crisis. I could hear her voice getting father away and she had cut our mental connection. Then she said, “Tell her I’m on my way over. I just have to stop at the morgue to get the SUV.”
“Martha, your sister said…”
“Yeah, I heard,” I sarcastically chuckled. “I’m just hoping she means her personal vehicle and not that massive suburban with Dragoon Bootay Coroner painted on the side.”
“Oh no!” The operator squeaked, actually squeaked, and I have no idea why, but it made me smile. Then she said, “You want me to run after her. I can tell her to…”
“You really are a doll,” I complimented, and I really meant it. “But you’ll never catch Maisie. Trust me. Being eight-and-a-half months pregnant with triplets has not slowed her down on bit. If anything, she’s gotten fast.”
“Well, okay,” the operator reluctantly acquiesced. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, exhaled just as quickly and just like she was back on the job. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am.” I was sure she could hear the smile in my voice. At least, I hoped she could hear the smile in my voice because I really appreciated all her efforts to keep me calm– oh, and to not kill my little sister when she went on Momma Dragon on her.
“Good. Good. Please don’t return to the building. I know you come with your fire protection, but it’s not safe. Not even for you. I know you won’t get hurt, but still. You’re an important person here in Dragoon Bootay. It just wouldn’t be the same without you. You really are the cornerstone of everything that makes our little town great,”
Another beep and some staticky, garbled words, and she was right back, picking up exactly where she left off, "The Fire Brigade will be there in less than thirty seconds. Everything still good?"
“Sorry,” I gasped. “I was a million miles away. Thank you so much for your kind words, but I promise, this town is a cool place all on its own.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest. Take the credit. You are great, Miss Dellencourt.”
“Martha, and thank you,” I snorted a chuckled, then hurried on because I was really uncomfortable with compliments about anything personal. “What were you saying?”
"Okay but know that you have a fan in me.”
“Thank you.”
“And the Fire Brigade is on the way." I could hear the smile in her voice and the confidence she had in the firefighters who were rushing to save my little store, then she added with a giggle, and if possible, I liked her even more. "And, as for a vacation, it might be a good idea. You work so hard. Your shop is always busy, and with only Raymondo to help, I bet you just drop into bed at the end of the night."
See? Told you the girl was a keeper.
“Not really,” I snickered, thinking about my one and only employee, Raymondo Thibodeaux, the one and only Centipede Shifter in the whole world who was given sanctuary here in Dragoon Bootay by Fate. Not only was it cool that he could partially shift and work with a ton of extra ‘hands’ but it helped that he was almost as old as me and never ever never called me ‘a Dragon of a certain age’. Talk about a Prince. I loved him like he was my own.
(And it bears mentioning that partially Shifting was the stock and trade of all of us dual-natured souls. If anyone has ever tried to tell you any different, they were lying. That’s just all there is to it.)
"Yeah, ray and I make a great team. We've been together in more than one business venture over the years. It's like we share a brain when we're together. He even completes my sentences. Thank the Goddess he is off visiting his folks, which took almost a year to get Fate to approve. He would be losing his mind right now."
"Ha! That sounds like my brother and me," she snickered. "But we're twins. So, I guess we kinda do share a brain." With just the slightest pause, the sweet girl continued, her tone much more timid, just barely above a whisper. "But…" She drew out the word before rushing on to finish, the words coming so quickly they all ran together. "…and I know this is extremely presumptuous… and if I'm overstepping, please just tell me to hush my mouth, and we'll forget I ever said anything. Oh crap! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even thought it. Please forgive me…"
"Hey, Hun," I interrupted before she hyperventilated, and I was forced to call 911 to get help for an actual 911 operator. "Breathe and tell me what you need. I gotcha covered– unless it's a million dollars or advice about your love life. Where those two subjects are concerned, I got nuthin’.”
"Are you sure? I mean, it really is a lot to ask." She inhaled so deeply I thought she might pass out, then came right back stronger than ever, "No! No-no-no-no- I can't. Just forget…"
"Out with it," I insisted. "Just ask me, or I will wonder about it forever, and then it will drive me batty, and Goddess knows, I'm already batty enough."
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Yep. Hit me.”
“Okay,” she mumbled sheepishly, her indecision and worry leading the way. “Can you teach me how to make real ‘Marvelous Martha’ coffee some time? Mine is terrible. Like horrible. Like worse than day-old dishwater. Even if you don't go on vacay, I still need more than one cup of your wonderful brew a day, and most days I can't make a second trip before closing time."
“Oh, my Lordy, yes! Of course,” I laughed out loud despite the situation. “I sure can. It would be an honor. You have to be the nicest, most genuine person I’ve talked to in a long time. And, let’s face it, a girl should never be without her java. Not to mention, we’re closed on Sundays.”
