The Guardian by Diana Knightley
Sixty-four - Hayley
“We’re ready to get out of here, huh?”
“Aye,” he was sitting on the edge of the bed. I stood in front of him watching him wiggle his toes.
I kneeled down to help him put on his shoes, trainers, in some future brand I hadn’t heard of before. Which seemed kind of lame, seeing how as time travelers we could go back and get a pair of $4,000 Air Jordans or something.
He hefted himself up onto his two feet.
“Do you need a wheelchair to leave?”
“Och nae, I am nae sittin’ in one of those again. I am a free man.”
“You sound like Magnus, so much complaining!”
He looked stiff and kind of hobbled as we walked to the door. He said, “First thing I want tae do, is tae go fishin’. Magnus promised me I could.”
On the chair by the door was a very large pile of his knitting.
I asked, “What on earth are we going to do with all of this?”
He chuckled. “Tis most of it a scarf tae wear.” He pulled an end from the middle and wrapped it up on his shoulder then wound it around his neck, drawing it from the pile, around and around and around, until he had wound about twenty-four feet of knitted scarf around him.
“You look like a tiny little gopher peeking up from a hole in the ground.”
He grinned, “Tis m’favorite animal! I will put it upon my crest, tae guide me.”
“Ha! I would think the alligator would be your animal.”
“Och nae, gators are always sneakin’ up on ye, tis nae my style. But first—”
“Fishing.”
I lifted up the bundle of knitted things and led him out to the hall to show him to our room. “And after fishing...?”
“I changed my mind. First, a meal, the largest meal I can find.”
“I felt like your list might be out of order.”
At the end of the hall I led him into the elevator. “How many elevators have you been in before?”
“Tis m’first, I hae always wanted tae do it.”
I pointed. “Push the button for the floor under the crown.”
He jabbed the button. “Now hold on while it lifts us.”
He pressed to the wall and held on. “Och, it left m’stomach below us.”
As the doors slid open, he watched them intently. Then he investigated the buttons, and the crack between the elevator and the shaft. “I always wondered what is the point of it, if ye could just take the stairs — now I see the point of it is fun. Maybe Archie and Ben will ride it with me later.”
I chuckled as I lugged his knitting down the hall to our door and pushed it open. “Our room!”
“Tis luxurious, the king gets rooms such as this?”
“His is better. He is the king after all. But this is very grand. Wait until you try out the bed, hint hint.”
He grinned, “Och aye, first, I want tae bed ye.”
I strode to the sitting room and dropped the knitting on the closest chair then raced back and jumped into his arms. “I thought you would never ask.”
He carried me to the bed and we fell onto it and laughed, kissing while struggling out of our clothes. He got his pants off, but had forgotten his shoes. “I forgot how tae do it.”
I gasped with laughter as I had pulled my shirt over m head without bothering to unbutton it, and it was stuck on my ears. “Me too!” I pulled the shirt. “I’m going to tear the buttons, crap.”
He reached around me to unlatch my bra but I was still trying to get my shirt off while he was also trying to kick off his pants, socks, shoes in one tight wad around his feet. Finally we stopped and just clung to each other laughing.
His big booming voice, “We are stuck.”
“It’s the most embarrassing thing in the world, but also the most silly.” I rolled onto my front while he fumbled with the button on my shirt and pulled it away from my arms. We got my bra off with a wee bit more respectability. Then I pulled his shoes off, his socks, and let him, with dignity, kick his pants off. Then I leaned back on my arms. “Now take my pants down!”
“Och ye are excited!”
“This was my ‘first thing’ and so I’m feeling pretty happy about the order we are going in. I beat fishing and a big meal.”
“Ye were always going tae, I was just teasin’ ye.” He pulled my pants and panties down and started to drop them on the floor but then folded them in half and tossed them to the chair like a good boy.
Then he climbed back onto the bed and wrapped his big strong arms around me, holding me the way he was supposed to, the way I needed. I clung to him as he kissed me, his beard rough against my lips, and his hands caressing me, stroking up and down my back.
I said, “I missed you so much.”
“Aye, m’bhean ghlan, I missed ye as well.” His voice deep and rumbling in my ear. His body big and heavy and warm and furry in all the best places. The weight of him, a pressing insistence, he was here, he was alive, on me and then in me and around me and there was no denying, no fear — he wasn’t lost to me. He was alive.