The Storm – 3

She dropped her lace glove in front of the big vase of flowers her daughter had sent, then sighed as she settled in an armchair by the fire and propped her bare feet up on the footstool. Her head drooped and before she knew it the sun was streaming through the windows and the fire had been reduced to embers.
“Rita, I’m back” came a voice through the livingroom doors.
“In here” she called back.
“Comfy?” asked the man who came in, he quirked his eyebrows at her position than took in the fancy midnight blue evening dress she wore “You look lovely” he said as he dropped his suitcase on the floor and brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“There was a dinner for my theater group last night, one of our patrons was nice enough to treat us” she explained.
“Nice?” he asked.
“Well, he did wonder if we might put on a production of Macbeth this season”
He snorted “of course”
Rita shrugged “We didn’t know what to do after we finished The Miracle Worker, and anyway, it could be worse than Shakespeare’s best play”
“And will you be Lady Macbeth?” he asked trying and failing to hide a smile.
She glared half-heartedly at him “That would really amuse you wouldn’t it?”
“It would be rather fitting” he smirked but she just waved him away.
“Go on with you” she said “I just want to sink into a warm bath and never leave”
“Alright” he paused at the door “Do you really think Brian would be so foolish as to try to find the girl?”
“I hope not, I don’t want to lose my only son” she said staring into the fireplace as though it held the answer. Slowly than faster she began to chant, flames leapt up the chimney and out into the room, the sparks became a colorful swirling riot as scenes began to take shape in them.

“Brian” Della knocked on his door and grinned when she heard him groan in reply “it’s sunny out today and I have breakfast almost ready” she called through the door.
“Alright, I’m up!” he called back groggily.
She smiled and headed back downstairs, the kitchen was a cool mix of whites and light blues and greens and she couldn’t help but smile every time she walked in, it had taken a lot of work to move the kitchen from one side of the house to the other but it had been worth it to be able to enjoy the sound of the waves crashing on the shore as she made pancakes and fried bacon.
“Yum, what smells so good?” asked Brian walking in fully dressed and leaning up against the wall.
“Breakfast” she sat down two laden plates and added a pitcher of orange juice by the syrup.
The breakfast was devoured in short order even though they spent the whole meal laughing and talking about inconsequential things.
Brian knew he didn’t have much longer to say something but it was getting harder and harder to speak the words as he watched her pull her hair up out of her face and smile at him as he offered to help clear the table.

Rita sighed “He looks happy” she said.
“Is this a problem?”
“It is if he doesn’t tell her” she replied.
“I wonder if it’s that simple, afterall, look at who her grandmother was”
“How can I forget?” Rita asked sadly.

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