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Setting Sail: The Chestnut Ginger

First of all, Happy Ostara and a welcome spring.  If  this were my novel, Kerry would have had a big night last night performing in front fellow students, and this morning–let’s just say it’s gonna be a rather interesting morning for both Annie and he.  Real interesting.

Speaking of interesting mornings . . .

Wait:  before getting into interesting mornings, allow me to say that I have passed the two hundred and seventy-five thousand word mark, and it only took thirty-four days to write another twenty-five thousand words, which puts my average output at seven hundred and thirty-five words a day.  Not bad considering I took off something like five days from writing during that time.

And for once, "is" is the word.  Is it?  It is.

And for once, “is” is the word. Is it? It is.

I had the most difficult time writing yesterday as you already know.  It didn’t improve going into the evening, and it was all I could do to string together a few hundred words before saying the hell with it and heading off to bed.

The morning is a little better due to some good tunes and thinking about another of my kid’s European side trips that would see them having lunch near a famous statue–well, famous to Kerry–and getting a good look at a house where literary history was made.  All of this come in the future which, as I said yesterday, I’ve thought of a great deal lately.  And this is probably a good thing because I realized something while thinking this stuff out, and when I started working out the whys and wherefores of the situation, I came to a conclusion that had never hit me before then–and that mean altering a bit of the timeline I’ve had in place for a couple of years because of reasons that made sense.

But you aren’t here to hear about my day yesterday–you’re here to hear about my kids and the night they’re having.  A night that ended in another excerpt with Annie telling Kerry he’s her husband.  Which is sort of a heavy thing to lay on your not-quite-thirteen-year-old boyfriend, but hey:  Kerry’s proving himself to be resilient tonight.  Can he keep that up?  Let’s see–

 

(All excerpts–except where noted–are from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015, 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)

They huddled together in silence for maybe fifteen seconds, warming each other against damp night air. Annie pulled Kerry’s arm around her and snuggled against him as she’d done so many times before in the last year and a half of school. She waited for Kerry to pull her tight against him before she began saying what was on her mind. “You understand what was said about our bonding tonight, don’t you?”

He cooed softly in her ear. “Sure I do.”

“That we’ve been this way since birth.”

“Yes.”

“And while we could be with other people, in reality we’ll never be happy with them.”

Kerry raised his hand and lightly traced lines against Annie’s cheek. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone else.”

She looked up at back into Kerry’s face. “Neither have I.”

He returned to caressing Annie’s cheek with his fingertips. “Is that why you called me your husband?”

“Yes.” Annie closed her eyes as she grew warm in her soul mate’s embrace. “We’re bound together through the astral realm; we’ll never love anyone as we love each other; and we’ve already seen evidence that we marry.” She began tapping her fingers against Kerry’s leg. “As far as I’m concerned that makes you my husband.” She pressed her head against his shoulder. “You feel the same as well.”

“I’ve felt that way for a long time.” He lay his head against Annie’s. “I just don’t express it as well as you.”

 

So . . . Annie’s finally getting said something she’s probably wanted to say for a while:  you are my husband, like it or not.  Fortunately Kerry likes, and while he’s not saying the word “wife” yet, he’s down with the concept.

Then again, he’s not as if he hasn’t heard this already.  Remember this scene?

 

Just then the airport public address system sounded to let everyone know an announcement was forthcoming. “Ihre Aufmerksamkeit, bitte. Wird Herr und Frau Malibey bitte an der Kasse melden? Ihr Flug wird bald verlassen. Danke.” The message repeated in English. “Your attention, please. Will Mr. and Mrs. Malibey please report to the ticket counter? Your flight is departing soon. Thank you.”

Kerry continued looked upward for a few seconds after the announcement completed. He slowly lowered his gaze towards a smiling Annie. “Mr. And Mrs. Malibey?”

Annie quickly stood, pushing her chair back in. “I had to leave a message for when it was time to leave, and I wanted something that would catch our attention.” She took Kerry’s hand after his chair was in place. “We’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes.  Shall we?”

 

That was from their time in the Vienna airport, awaiting their departure via jaunt back to the school.  In case you’re a little sketchy about the time, that happened only two-and-a-half months earlier, novel time, and she did this in an international airport where a lot of people, Foundation folk included, heard it all.  And as kinda stated, a year before our couple had conversations about the married life.  And do you remember this?

 

 

The following excerpt is from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, 2015, by Cassidy Frazee)

Annie took Kerry’s hand in hers and held it tight. “About a month before my eighth birthday my mother and I went away to a house her parents own just outside Pocancy, France. That’s in the Champagne region—do you know it?”

“I know of it. It’s like north-east France, right?”

“Yes. Beautiful country: lots of low rolling hills and fields and wooded areas. My grandparents have had that house there since the 1950s, I believe.”

“Why did you go there?”

“My mother had spent the summer on a project and she wanted to get away and rest.” She cuddled up against Kerry. “We spent three weeks there, with my father popping in every so often when he wasn’t testing or racing.” She smiled as the memories came back to her. “Every other day my mother and I went bicycling.”

“You did?”

“Yes. We’d ride maybe ten, twelve kilometers, stay out all day. That was how I got to see so much of the surrounding area.”

Kerry squeezed Annie’s hand. “Sounds wonderful, Sweetie.”

“It was.” She paused just a moment before telling him the rest. “I’d love to live there one day.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I have it written in my wedding book. A little château, walled off, with a garden in the back where I can grow vegetables and herbs. Maybe a small house in the back where I can have a lab like my mother’s.”

Kerry turned to Annie, a huge smile upon his face. “You have it all thought out.”

“Yes, I do.”

“What about your lake house?”

“Oh, I’ll always have my lake house; it’s not going anywhere.” She turned and gazed into Kerry’s eyes. “That will always be there for me to use, and once we learn how to jaunt, it won’t matter where we live, we can go there for a night or a weekend and get away from everything, just rest and relax and . . .” She pressed her cheek into Kerry’s arm. “Do whatever we like.”

He didn’t need to have “whatever we like” spelled out for him; Kerry’s suspicion was that it had something to do with what they’d already seen in their wedding vision. “You just said something telling—”

“What’s that?”

“You said ‘we’. When ‘we’ learn to jaunt ‘we’ can go there no matter where ‘we’ live.”

She lowered her head slightly and looked up at him. “Does that bother you?”

He shook his head once. “No.”

“Good. Because given what we’ve seen—given the possibility that it’s going to be true—my lake house will be your lake house one day.” She gave him a quick kiss. “And my house, wherever I live, will be yours as well.”

“A little château in France?”

“That’s one possibility.”

 

“You have it all thought out.”  Damn right she does, Kerry.  She’s been planing this shit since she was about six, about the time some Ginger Hair Boy read to her in a dream.  You know, some things have been stated about how a girl, at the age of six, could fall in love with a boy that may have been nothing more than a dream–unless, just as Kerry had something in his mind reminding him that his Chestnut Girl was still around, Annie had something poking her as well.  Is it possible she felt something for this boy–a connection as one might say–and a little voice in her head whispered, “Hey, he’s the real deal.  Don’t let this one go–like you could.  Haha!”

Enough of this crazy past stuff:  Annie’s concerned about the present.  Though there is something from the past that’s on her mind–

 

“You did when it was most important.” Annie had considering not saying anything about what she’d seen only an hour before, but she now felt it important to tell Kerry how she felt about the incident. “When you confronted you—other half—you told her that she was going to screw things up for you—” She felt him stiffen slightly. “That you were happy and you didn’t want to go back to how you once were.” Her tone softened slightly. “You meant us, didn’t you?”

Kerry sighed slowly and gently. “Yeah.”

“You thought if what you knew was coming happened, then we were through as a couple?”

He spent a few seconds in silence before he found it possible to respond. “I didn’t want you to know; I thought it would hurt you to know . . .”

Annie finished his statement when it became apparent he wouldn’t. “To know my husband-to-be might become my wife-to-be?”

He tightened his embrace as if he were afraid Annie would slip away. “Yes.”

“You were going to keep resisting this dream, weren’t you?” She sat up and turn so she was facing Kerry. “Even if you could have said what was happening, you would have kept it to yourself—because you were afraid of upsetting me.”

 

After all these years Annie has hubby’s–I mean, Kerry’s number, and that number ain’t 867-5309.  He’d have kept quiet as long as possible to keep from upsetting Annie–even though that would have had extremely detrimental effects upon his mind:

 

“I didn’t know what was happening, Annie.” He cast his gaze downward. “I knew something was going on, but I couldn’t say anything, which really sucked. But once I figured it out—” He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I was afraid of upsetting you, which is why I didn’t want this to happen.”

“But now you know you can control it, so there shouldn’t be the same fear.”

Kerry finally looked up. “Yeah, I know now. I didn’t then.”

Annie raised his left hand to her lips and gave it a sweet, loving kiss. “I appreciate you wanting to spare my feelings, but at the same time—” an admonishing tone crept into her voice. “Do you understand how devastated I would have become if you’d driven yourself crazy?” She lightly thumped his chest. “Ot vreme na vreme si neveroyatno glupav!” Annie smiled while holding up a warning finger. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Kerry pulled the finger towards him and kissed the tip. “Yes, malko sarmi.”

 

Yeah, Kerry would have gone nuts rather than hurt his little cabbage roll, while not realizing going crazy and getting sent off to “a facility” would have likely pushed Annie around the bend as well.  As some characters in a movie where the title has little to do with the source material might say, Kerry is one of the dumbest smart kids ever.  Actions can have unintended consequences, kid, and you should know by now an Upset Annie the Dark Witch is a nasty thing to behold.  Isis probably would have needed to dart her ass from behind if you got hauled off to “the facility,” dude.  Don’t let that happen again.

This all leads up to the end of the scene, and there is only one real way for this to end:

 

Annie stood and, smiling, pulled Kerry to his feet. “We need to get to the hospital before Coraline gets there—however—” She held each of his hands in hers while facing him. “However what is affecting you affects us, we’ll find our way through and deal with whatever comes.” Her smile grew bright. “We are one, my love. While Foundation and Normal law don’t see it the same way, you and I both know we are husband and wife, and when it comes to each other, we have to take the bad with the good.”

A smile appeared on Kerry’s face as he chuckled softly. “In sickness and in health?”

She nodded. “To love and cherish.”

His smiled softened slightly. “Until death do us part.”

Annie pulled Kerry close and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. “Until death do us part, my love.”

 

Give that your bonded lifelines won’t break until one, or both, of you are dead, yes, Annie:  Kerry and you are together until death do you part.  Sure, one could say that either kid could wander and hook up with someone for a one night stand or two, but really:  does anyone believe that now?  Kerry was willing to go a lot bit crazy to keep from hurting Annie with the possibility she was going to end up with a girlfriend for a soul mate–and as far as Annie straying, with all she has invested in this relationship, she’d likely torch the first guy who started hitting on her and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

And no:  not telling Emma to fuck off and leave him alone is not the same as letting her believe she still has a shot.  He’s let her know without trying to hurt her too much that they are not a thing, and when you get right to it, he’s not responsible for killed the delusions of others–which, honestly, if a person is really that delusional, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from feeling a certain way short of killing them–

Which Annie would do without blinking an eye.  Because she can.

There will be trials and tribulations ahead for my kids that are likely to get nasty–and I don’t mean Tribble-ations here, that’s in another universe altogether–but as far as they feel about their relationship–

The good ship ChestnutGinger has sailed from Pier Lovey Dovey, and it ain’t coming back.

Korasami is a ship that sailed.  Believe that.

Move over, Korasami:  it looks like there’s another couple heading your way.  Maybe you guys can, um, go shopping or something?

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