“Of course, you are,” Melinda said. She stirred herself a glass of lemonade and took a deep sip. “I knew them, yes. And I believe that Sirius wanted to give me money but knew I wouldn’t take it for nothing in return. So he paid, and left, promising to come back for the portrait, but he never did.”
Finn thought all of this was very strange indeed.
“How did you meet them?” he asked.
“They were doing a tour of the country, as many highborns in the water and fire kingdoms do. They had heard of our bucolic farms and forests, and wanted to see the rolling hills. I was hawking my wares at the market, displaying my pictures, and he took an interest. He bought a still life, I believe, but I told him my real interest was in portraiture. We got to talking. I must have looked hungry and desperate and mad–which I nearly was. But through all the pain of that time I felt some connection to him. The man I had been seeing was distraught at the time–I believe he was about through with me, and I felt very alone. Sirius and Solar took me to dinner. They bought me a night in the nice inn they were staying at, learning of my squalid living conditions. I was a shadow of myself at the time, but they helped resuscitate me. Told me I was talented. Made me eat. It was time for me to come back to life. I took a job at a bakery, and that helped, too. But this is to say–though I didn’t know them all my life, I was intimate with them. Forever grateful to them.”
Marigold nodded.
“I know what it’s like–to feel…unmoored.”
“I hope not on the verge of madness, dear,” Melinda countered.
“I’m afraid so,” Marigold responded.
Melinda took her hands.
“Boys, you can go,” she said.
Finn stood up.
“I think–Marigold is very emotional right now, and I think it would help if we were–”
Melinda turned on Finn and William with a look that could have scorched. Finn put up his hands.
“We have things to talk about,” Melinda said.
“What the hell just happened?” William asked, putting his hands up to scratch his head as they emerged onto the town streets. “I felt caught in the middle of something deep.”
“A good way to put it,” Finn said.
The sun had reached noon. Though Finn knew that there was plenty to do, he couldn’t quite put his finger onto the next task. His normally omnipresent list of things to do had evaporated in that room as he watched Marigold and Melinda realize their connection to each other.
William seemed to read his mind.
“Do they know each other?”
“It seems like it,” Finn said. “Did you notice how…how they mirrored each other?”
William shook his head rapidly.
“What?”
“Well…they just had similar ways about them. Mannerisms, I guess. The way their hands twisted in their laps. The flood of emotion on their faces…happening at different times.”
“Do you mean to say they are related?”
Finn threw up his hands.
“No, of course not. Only…maybe they are. Maybe distantly. After all, her hair color is a mystery. That’s all I’m saying.”
“She could be a distant cousin, you mean?” William asked. “Maybe even a long lost aunt?”
Finn nodded.
“It’s far-fetched, but I suppose it’s possible,” William conceded. “If that’s the truth, then it has to be good news. Marigold seems to have no family. A connection, however distant, might do her good.”
“It might,” Finn said. “But why do you care so much?”
