Jay tried to call Ambrose back, but it went straight to voice mail. He set the phone on the small nightstand beside the bed. “So. Now, what do I do?”
He laid down next to Isellta and pulled him into his embrace. “There has to be something else. Something I’ve forgotten or haven’t thought of.”
He smiled as a bittersweet memory came to him.
“What does that mean? Love. What…What is it?”
Jay chuckled. “That is a loaded question, fey.” He pulled his phone out of his robe’s pocket. “Fortunately, I have a song on here.” He removed one of his black gloves and rolled his finger from bottom of the phone screen to the top over and over until he found it. John Denver’s Perhaps Love. “Ah. Here it is. This song will answer your question.”
He handed the phone to Isellta. “Hold on one second.” He pulled a set of earplugs out of his other pocket and stuffed them inside the fey’s ears.
“What?”
“You’ll see.” He attached the earplugs to the phone and pressed the green arrow on the screen.
Isellta exhaled a soft “Ohh.” as wonder and understanding came across his face.
Jay smiled and sang along to the memory.
***
A melody entered the darkness.
A melody and lyrics.
A voice in the darkness.
Perhaps love…resting place..
I know this.
I know this song.
…comfort there…warm…
Isellta’s wings twitched.
Such a pretty song.
…times of trouble…most alone…
He tried in vain to open his eyes.
Jay.
This song is Jay.
Isellta didn’t even question it. He just knew that it was true.
…memory of love…home.
“Jay.” he whispered. “My dear Jay.”
Robin growled. “You’re mine, Isellta. No one else’s. Mine.” He bit Isellta’s neck.
The fey’s eyes fluttered closed. He drifted back into unconsciousness.
***
“Some say love is holding on. Some say letting go.”
Jay stopped singing.
Letting go.
I’ve done so much to bring him back and nothing, absolutely nothing, has worked. Maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe I should stop fighting.
I should stop holding on.
He looked down at the unconscious fey in his arms.
Tears stung his eyes as he remembered every moment with him.
“Maybe it’s time for me to let you go.”
“***
Dave’s knees trembled as Mark Caten did a yawn/stretch combo.
Come on. Come on. Come on. Give us the word. Tell us we can go.
“Ohh. What a day. What a day. Thank goodness it’s all over. Now, I can have my fun with Preyuna. Dear, rotten, spoiled, sour Preyuna.” He did one last thing on his computer and shut it down.
Come on. Say it.
Mark Caten tidied up his papers and realigned the pens on his desk.
Quit dawdling! Tell us we can go. Please!
“Hm. Yes. That looks about—” He readjusted a couple of pens. “—perfect.” He stood and strolled over to the door.
He’s gonna say it!
Mark Caten snapped his fingers. “Follow me to my room, both of you.”
Dave bit back a scream of impatience.
Mark opened the door and smirked at Dave. “Oh, and please refrain from groping each other. It’s amusing enough to watch on the monitors, but to have it happen right behind me where I can accidently see it?” He fake-gagged. “No thanks.” He left the room.
Hank squeezed Dave’s hand. “It’s okay, babe. We’ll be together soon.”
“It isn’t soon enough.”
Hank smoothed the shoulders of Dave’s robe. “It never is.”
“Eeee! I love you so much!”‘
Hank laughed. “I love you too. Come on. Let’s get this done and over with.”
“Okay!”
ambroseandelsie 