Rantings of an Arranged Mind

So we got possession of the house on Thursday, and we've been busy painting and cleaning and unpacking ever since. It's going to disrupt my writing a bit, obviously, but hopefully not for too long. My kids love our new big backyard, and hopefully they'll love their new bedrooms once they're finished. Hope everyone else is having a good final week of summer, and we'll get back to the story as soon as possible!

I had my head in my hands, leaning over on the couch. I felt like crap. I had no idea what to do next. I was supposed to meet Zebediah the next day in the park, and hopefully come to some sort of an agreement so Calla could meet him and not be put in danger.

I had spent maybe five or ten minutes thinking since I had called Zebediah and left a voicemail. They were a fairly intense few minutes, as I had come to the possible conclusion that my father had made his money on future information provided by the time traveller. The foundations of my world were starting to crack.

However, I wasn't given much time to adjust to the new paradigm, because the telephone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Diggory. You called?" Zebediah's voice came over the line.

"You got back to me fast," I said.

Calla opted to go home that evening. We had starting the new year together, but she wanted to spend some time with Bianca before classes and work started again. I'm sure they had a lot to discuss: Bianca would have to be involved in wedding details, as Calla's maid of honour; and they had to sort out living arrangements for when Calla came to stay with me. Bianca would likely need a new room-mate.

I felt my stomach clench up and do a backflip at Calla's words. Her emotions always affected me powerfully. Looking into her eyes, seeing her naked vulnerability and hearing that she wanted to marry me, well, it made me ache.

"Calla... I..." I took several deep breaths. "I love you so much. I don't know what else to say but that."

She hugged me tight, burying her face in my chest. I felt her shudder a little. She wasn't quite crying but I suspected it was close.

When my stomach told me it was time to eat, I excused myself from the living room and headed to the kitchen to make us a light lunch. I was glad of the interruption. While I was excited at the prospect of marrying Calla, I was also unsettled by the recent course of events. It was now 2009 and her future incarnation had claimed I would be dead by September. Nine months to live didn't sound like much.

"Uh, yeah, about that..." I said.

"What, do you have a problem with him too?" Calla chuckled. "He's your family."

"I've never met him before," I said.

Calla's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

"Yeah, I didn't even know I had an uncle until my mother told me in a letter with her will. I don't know why he came to the party or how he found me, but I've never met that guy. I don't even know for sure if he's really my uncle."

Calla put her hands to her face and looked really confused. "How... I mean, you acted like you knew him last night... you seriously don't know him?"

I turned and looked at Calla, putting my arms around her waist. She obliged me by hugging back, looping her hands behind my neck and smiling up at me.

"Listen, about Matt..." I started to say.

"Shhhhhh," she said, smiling up at me, her voice soft but firm. "I don't need to hear any more. It's between the two of you, and you'll sort it out. He's your best friend."

"But there's more, he..." I protested.

Calla silenced me with a warm kiss and then leaned back to look up at me again. "You'll work it out."

"You're considering not asking Matt?" Calla asked me over her breakfast. "He's your best friend."

I put my fork down and steepled my fingers together, elbows on the table. I looked at her.

"Matt isn't the best person in the world, Calla. He and I have a... complicated relationship." I paused. I didn't want her to think badly of Matt, but I also wanted to be honest. His problems should have been just that, his problems, but he had dragged me into them. Calla had a right to know what had happened if she was joining my life.

"Complicated?"

We continued to eat our breakfasts as we also chewed over the discussion so far. It sounded like we were having similar ideas: small wedding, quiet, no spectacle. The sooner the better, as well. For me it was the matter of not having a lot of time left, for Calla it seemed to be inherent to her practical nature. She loved me, here and now -- a date didn't matter to that equation for her.

"I still have to buy that ring," I said.