“I told him …. ‘I don’t care if you’re the CEO and not a waiter. Go get me some more of those damn horderves; I’m a lady after all.’ Oh you should have seen his face. He got so red. But really, between you and me,” Carol Lancaster trailed off.

Carol’s head swiveled as if looking for ease droppers. Morrigan couldn’t quite see this movement, so much as she could feel it as Carol’s arm was still wrapped over Morrigan’s shoulders and neck — and Morrigan felt like she was holding up sixty percent of the woman’s weight.

Carol, having finished looking for eavesdroppers, likely a trait out of habit given that they were on an empty, beat up road, miles away from where they had started, she lowered her voice to conspiratorial tone. “Between you and me, his ass was the real sight!”

Her loud laugh hammered Morrigan’s eardrums, forcing Morrigan to resist the urge to roll the woman off her shoulders. That would cause Carol to fall. And Morrigan knew, that helping this woman back to a stand was not worth the effort. The woman had sat down several times over their couple of hours hike. Each time Morrigan had to pull the woman, who seemed not to know how to help in the process, back up, putting great strain and pain on an already tired lower back.

One time the woman fell back. The jarring motion disturbed her bladder. And guess who had to hold the woman’s hand so that she didn’t fall over while she went ….? One scientist-witch who was really re-considering her life choices.

A burst ear drum would be acceptable versus going through that again. Plus, they were so close. They only had a short distance to go, by Morrigan’s calculation. Which was good, because the sun was setting, meaning it was late. If only Carol Lancaster had listened to Morrigan in the first place.

“And they think guys only care about a nice bum. I can say, I’ve had my share of suiters and would-be suitors and a nice rear was always welcomed. You know, what the men say in locker rooms, ‘Good to see you come, love to see you leave.’ Ha! Well, they’re right about that one!”

“Uh-huh,” Morrigan said with minimum enthusiasm. The ability to humor people who were talking at you, and not with you, while at the same time ignoring them was a skill Morrigan had developed growing up her racauos household, long ago.

“Isn’t this great? Girl talk? It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to do it. You know, always worrying about who will say what to who. What might get put on the tabloids.“

“Uh-huh,” Morrigan said with as much enthusiasm as Cheerios had flavor. Mrs. Lancaster, whom Morrigan could only think of now as Carol, had divulged so much of her life during the trip. Morrigan was sure that the jabbering was part fear induced, part bad manners, and all laced with a hint of narcissism.

The woman had spoken so much, that she became “parch” several times. That shouldn’t have been a problem had Carol wore the clothing and equipment Morrigan had suggested earlier. Unfortunately, Carol’s choice of an evening dress didn’t include a satin belt with a water bottle attachment.

The only solution was for Morrigan to share from the water bottle she had attached to her duty belt, at the small of her back. Carol had finished it in short order. Morrigan wished she had taken more than a few gulps before letting carol had some. For some reason, Carol didn’t understand the idea of rationing.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The idea of it made Morrigan miss Ophelia. She had an unreal penchant for eating snacks. Morrigan wasn’t sure if it was something to do with Naiad metabolism or if the girl was just a glutton for terrible food and bound to lose her figure like people who move to the states from Africa or Europe.

Regardless, Ophelia would have been able to provide fresh water. Her natural affinity to fresh water, her ability to manipulate it like Morrigan could fire were awesome abilities. But her ability to draw moisture from the air and place it in containers would have been a saving grace here. So would her snarky personality.

Ophelia and Carol would not have gotten along. But Ophelia would have made for good company. Same thing with Azura. Overly friendly while being sheepish at the same time, and with no real sense of personal space. She was sweet. And her singing would have made this trip shorter. And if Sera were here, they could talk about ancient literature the entire time. But they weren’t here. And Morrigan missed them. She’d have to bake them something good when she got back.

“You know, I can just open up to you,” Carol said.

“Uh…huh…?” Morrigan said, realizing she had zoned the woman out, and trying to figure out where they were in the conversation.

“Yeah. I don’t know. You just really know how to listen.”

Morrigan stifled a snort. Knowing how to listen was different than just letting someone talk at you without them being interested in hearing your actual response.

“Oh, hmm,” Morrigan said.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the breeze. Or this nice walk in nature. Being out, getting some exercise.”

“Uh-huh,” Morrigan said, humoring the woman. She knew that the stale and at times rancid breeze, wasn’t good; that walking along a rotted pathway, amongst scraggly trees wasn’t most people’s take on getting out in “nature”; and that she was doing most of the exercise for both of them.

“Yes ….”

“Maybe …. Maybe we can do this again. Ladies night out? We can become the best of buds.”

“Uh-” Morrigan choked on her own saliva as she realized what the woman was saying.

“I haven’t had a girlfriend since Nicole got plastic surgery and started hitting on guys from South Africa. But you and I could have fun. I’m always invited to events in New York, Chicago, Miami, London. I don’t do Cali anymore. But London’s nice. Ooh! I know so many people I could introduce you to.”

“I umm — uh,” Morrigan said, trying to figure out how to get out of this.

“Ooh, and a pretty thing like you, with a little make over, you’d have your pick of guys. I know just the person who could do your make up. Her name is Amelia. I can get you scheduled as early as three days from now. No. She owes me one, two days from now. That’ll give her time to get from Paris or wherever she’s at. Actresses summon her around the globe, so she stays busy, and ….” Carol said, but now talking again without listening.

“I don’t know about this …”

Carol continued, seeming not have listened to a word Morrigan had uttered.

“Then we just golf with some guys. My legs look great in a golfing skirt, let me tell you. But you, child, with hips like yours they’ll forget to even Tee off. Probably because they’ll be thinking of getting something else off,” Carol said with a snicker. “They’ll be putty in your hands. I can teach you everything I know. And I know a lot. We gotta use our god given gifts don’t we. So what do you think? Friends?”

“Ew no,” Morrigan said, resisting the urge to shoulder roll the woman off of her for a second time. The idea of using her ‘gifts’ in such a way disgusted her. And the idea of someone her mother’s age talking to her like this sent shivers down her spine.

“Oh …” Carol said, her voice low for once. Her one utterance trailed off like a sigh in the wind. She didn’t say anything else. And Morrigan didn’t have to look to see the hurt on the woman’s face — on Carol’s face.