Eloise jerked on her hand and lifted a hand to hold her face gently but firmly. "Yes. Look at me."
Ursula's green eyes touched her amber ones. They sparkled. With a sadness she could understand deeply, but she needed her friend to listen. "Hey. I need you to do this. I need to do this. When I left, I knew even with that first step I would never have what we have again and I lamented that. But I am never losing it again and you're not losing what you have found, what you have built here."
A dropping tear down her cheek caught a crystal of sunlight. "I don't want this life without you in it," Ursula whispered.
Eloise swallowed. Casper whined and pressed his body against her. She ran her hand over his grey, wiry head, looking down into his large baleful eyes. She bent to take his head in her hands. "You look after her. I mean it," she whispered and while Irish Wolfhounds have a way of always looking a little sad, his eyes took on a woeful pain as he pressed his face into hers. "And takecare of Lady. I am pretty sure that girl is going to pop any day now."
She stood up. "Go to Crystal, Jen, Tilly and Kelsea. Tell them what is going on. You're our only hope," she said drama with a hint of sadness.
"You can't make light of this with a Star Wars joke," she quietly admonished as her tears rolled hot.
Eloise smiled softly at her friend. "Sorry."
"I don't forgive you."
Her smile widened. "Good. Get me out of this and then forgive me."
Red and blue lights caught on the fog like a stain trying to cut through and spread across the side of the house. Eloise pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Flashes of this life hit her. What a short time these months had been in the scheme of all her years, but the richness of them...
She smiled at that.
She pulled Ursula in for a hug, not listening to her objections, whispering that she loved her into her ear, the seeds planting perennials there. She kissed her cheek and then walked toward the red and blue lights holding up a hand. "Please let me do this."
Ursula's brave face was a strong and beautiful, tear-soaked thing.
How fierce her friend was. She smiled in honest joy at that picture.
"I will get you out. We will right this."
She nodded. "I love you more than stars."
"I love you more than moonlight," she whispered back, with a tremble of her lips.
How could anyone have sold the idea that an emotional woman is a weak woman? What a cheap lie. These emotions, these roots inside of them were their life source. They were stronger than steel and bullets. They could cut deeper than anyblade and they could heal better than any drug. These emotions were what built and tumbled nations, broke and mended hearts.
Eloise held onto that as she gave herself over to the authorities. She looked at The Lost Souls House through the car's window and gave a half smile when she saw Lady Macbeth, Sulphur and Georgia sitting sentry on the steps. Lily of the Valley grew in little patches along the flowerbeds in front of the porch along with thick-leaved hostas and curling ferns. She hoped she would get to see the roses bloom and the peonies open in their melodic, marshmallow way.
When Lady let out a chittering cry, her bandit eyes full of fear, Eloise had to stifle a gasp of pain.
The officer drove them silently down the wooded drive and she finally let her body give way, the strength she'd been using to hold her bones and muscles tight she let go of and she leaned back into the seat, closing her eyes, tears of fear and pain mixing and falling.
And she hoped that some kind of good magic would get her out of this.
26. Starlings and Bourbon
"You were in a relationship with Bentley Goran for four months in Orlando, Florida is that correct?"
"The name should have been enough of a red flag," she responded. She'd been questioned already twice; same questions, same answers.
"This isn't a joke, Miss Willow."
She tilted her head to look at the chief across from her. He had been professional, stoic was the word that came to mind with her few interactions with him. There was something different about him but he hadn't been unkind and for that she could thank him.
"You know, I always thought it interesting that we differentiate between a single and a married woman, but not a man. You're simply 'Mr.' no matter your relational status. As if the title before our name will determine what level of respect we will receive, what level of merit we will have."
He didn't respond.
She sighed. "I know this isn't a joke, Chief Landry. And you've not treated me as a 'Miss'. So thank you. And yes, we dated."
