Page 36 of Unraveling Fate

Crazy.

A man with antlers.

Crazy.

A woman with full red flowers encircling her hair.

The memory came rushing back, the images jumbled and screaming.

She’d been late for school. She was always late for school when the dandelions sang. She’d run out of the house to play with them. She remembered that; that was normal. But the music had done somethingnotnormal for her five-year-old self that day.

The memory started to slip, and Cadenza strained to hold it. The earthsong had pushed at her, scared her. Crawled into her throat for the first time that day, while the antlered man and the flower-crowned woman just stood there, watching her, waiting. Judging.

Her mother had yelled at her. “What will people think? That I am crazy and taught my daughter to be crazy too?”

Cadenza slammed on the breaks and the Ferrari screeched to a stop. Her heart thudded against her ribs, a metronome on speed. She shoved the memories away, crammed them back into the recesses of her mind. They weren’t real. That hadn’t really happened. She’d imagined it. Or dreamt it.

“I’m not crazy.” She gulped in air, squeezing the steering wheel till her fingers cramped.

I’m in control.I’m in control. I’m in control.Cadenza hummed the words to herself until it was true.

“I am not crazy.” She tossed her hair back and sniffed. “And I have a date to get ready for.”

There wasa knock at her door just after dark, sending her heart skittering. She ran her fingers through her hair one more time, checked there was no lipstick on her teeth, and opened the door. Taran smiled, golden and beautiful, at the top of the stairs, hands in his pockets. Even standing still, movement flowed through him. An easy, ready-to-act grace.

And the drums.

Always the drums.

They washed over Cadenza like waves on the shore, bodhran trills first, then rolling tide and rumbling earth, timpani and kettle drums. She anchored to his heartbeat as she’d practiced the night before, and the tide and earth settled.

“Hi,” she said. Such a tiny word for what happened when she saw him.

“Good evening. Ready?” Taran stood aside and gestured at the stairs. No Ferrari greeted her at the bottom, and she cast him a sidelong look. Where did he put it each evening?

“I thought a nighttime picnic would be fun.” He scooped up a basket at the door of the garage and led her towards the fields behind the racetrack.

A night wind fluted around them, the barest wisp of September under its warmth. Deep cello notes bowed from the oak trees, and the stars chimed like far-off bells. Taran spread ablanket next to a copse of live oak. The estate road ran on the other side of the trees. The field spread before them, blue and shadowed in the starlight.

Taran lifted a container from the basket and proffered it with two hands. Cadenza raised an eyebrow at the fudge on the plate.

“Dessert first?”

“Life is long, might as well eat dessert first.” He bit into a piece of fudge with relish.

“Life is long?” she asked, laughing. “Don’t you mean life is short?”

“Nae, nae.” He lay on his side, propped on one elbow. “Life is longer than people think. And if you’re going to be here all that time, you might as well enjoy it. Try some.” He lifted a square of fudge to her mouth.

She hesitated.Plenty of dessert in Italy.But his face was light, with no expectation in his eyes other than that she try a bite. Stretched out next to her as he was, his head was lower than hers.Still trying to give me space.

Cadenza closed her eyes and took a bite. His fingertip brushed against her lip and a line of bodhran song danced up her cheek. Chocolate melted on her tongue, rich and dark.

“Worth savoring, no?” he asked.

When she opened her eyes Taran held her gaze, steady and clear. Rhythm rolled around her like the tide coming in.

Cadenza shifted, clearing her throat, and Taran broke eye contact.