Always Choose Dare

Chapter 13 - The Opening

“This is my guest suite. There is a bathroom that actually connects the two rooms, so if you want to make sure you have privacy, be sure to lock both doors.”

I gesture toward the guest suite and continue the tour, all while questioning my sanity for asking two men, who are complete strangers, to stay in my home.

“I tend to not wake up very early unless I have to for an appointment, and I sure as hell don’t cook first thing in the morning, so you’re on your own for breakfast. I will, however, have coffee made when I wake up.”

Walking back out of the hallway, I pass through the kitchen and into the living room.

“TV, as you can see,” I point to the screen on the wall, “and the remotes are all in this caddy. You’re welcome to use all the room as you want, just don’t leave food waste out because I really don’t want bugs in my house. The door over there opens to the stairs. The second floor is my room and bathroom and a small gym. You can use the gym, just don’t wake me up at some godforsaken hour to do so. The devil may be evil, but I have him beat if you fu(k with my sleep.”

“Noted,” Daire says with a big, toothy grin.

I do my best to act unaffected by it, but damn, that man has a beautiful smile! His darker skin makes his teeth practically glow like perfect pearls. And when he grins, I can almost see laughter in his eyes, and it genuinely makes me want to smile.

“Do you have a work space or a quiet area you need us to give extra respect to so you can work?” Marek asks.

“Not really. I write when I feel led to write, and I write wherever I’m comfortable at that moment,” I say thoughtfully. “Thanks for asking, though!”

“Would you be willing to show us again how to access the internet so we can try to find out more information about the Moon Goddess temples?” Marek asks with obvious excitement.

He seems to really enjoy the tech of our country!

“What do you all do without cell phones?” I ask.

“We have earpieces, which call each other as we need, and we have palm readers, that take pictures, scan life forms, and transmit that data to screens or devices that print out the data. Likewise, you can use them to assess a body, and they’ll tell you if there is something wrong medically,” Daire explains.

It seems like he appreciates the uses, but isn’t as excited by tech as Marek is.

“How about we sit on the couch so you can both watch what I do? Afterward, I’ll explain the remotes to you in case they differ from what you are used to,” I suggest.

“Sounds great!” Marek replies excitedly.

“Go ahead and sit down while I grab the pizza I ordered. They should be arriving now,” I say and start walking back to the front of the house.

Just like the app said, the delivery guy was walking up just as I opened the door. I pay, grab the boxes, and make my way to the kitchen. Setting the pizzas down, I grab two beers and a bottled water and put the necks of each between my fingers in one hand, pile three plates on top of the boxes, then slide the other hand under the boxes to carry them waitress-style. As I round the corner and enter the living room, Daire jumps up.

“Goddess, why didn’t you tell us you needed help?” He exclaimed, then took the boxes from my hand and carried them to the side table.

“I told you before, I’m good at being alone. Help wasn’t needed, so I didn’t ask for it.” I shrug.

“Well, when I’m around, I am more than happy to help, even if you are capable of doing things alone,” Daire soothes.

Again, the familiarities between him and Dora are striking. Dora always encouraged my strength, but was always happy to assist me in my tasks. It honestly warmed my heart…a bit.

“I did ask you to help me this weekend, if I recall, so that is proof that I’ll ask if needed,” I reply.

We each take our seats, and Daire hands Marek and me a plate each. As he reaches for the first box of pizza, he stops and reaches down beside the couch instead. Immediately, I recall folding my laundry on the couch a few days ago and am stricken with fear that a thong may have fallen down in the crevice! Instead, he pulls out a small package.

“I assume this might be something you need?” Daire asks, holding the padded envelope up.

I sigh in relief.

“Probably. You and Marek can grab your slices while I open this.”

I take the package from Daire and look at the writing on the outside. It is addressed to “Star Knightly” in beautiful calligraphy, and there is no return address. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my trusty little spring-loaded switch blade. I press the button on the handle and the blade shoots out of the handle and snaps into place. Marek immediately starts coughing like he is choking on his food!

“I’ve never seen a blade like that! Is it enchanted?” Marek asks after he finishes coughing.

I giggle at the suggestion.

“Enchanted?” I laugh a little harder, picturing my switchblade in the hands of a fairy princess! “No, it’s a basic spring-loaded switchblade. See? This button releases the hidden blade, and the springs make it shoot out quickly. It’s for basic knife needs, like opening this package, as well as for self-defense when I’m walking in the city alone.”

Daire looks at me with what can only be described as pride, and I find myself sitting a little taller in response. I slice the envelope and a note slips out. I pick it up and read it.

My darling girl,

This should arrive the day of your book release for Always Choose Dare. I am so proud of you and your writing, my little Star! If you read it and read this together, you will have everything you need to succeed. You are far smarter, braver, and fiercer than you know. Trust in who you are and remember to always choose Daire. I will see you soon!

All my love,

Dora

“I don’t understand,” the whisper falls out of my mouth without prodding.

In shock, I look at Daire and ask, “How did Dora know my book was being released early? I didn’t know until the day before, and that wouldn’t have given her ample time to have mailed a package for it to arrive yesterday. And how did she know the title? It wasn’t released until the book was. It was a surprise for my readers!”

My head is spinning with questions, timelines, and random thoughts.

“This is from my mother?” He asks in return, not answering my questions.

I nod in reply.

“May I see?” He requests.

I hand him the letter and he reads it, then rereads it. He traces the lettering with his fingers as though touching them will somehow connect him to her. That thought and seeing him do it breaks my heart for him.

“Why did she spell ‘dare’ wrong?” I ask.

“She didn’t,” he whispers.

His eyes snap up to meet mine and the flood of emotions I see in them nearly drowns me. Then it hits me - it must be how she spelled his name! We sit like that for a few moments, just letting the questions and emotions sink in.

Finally, he asks, “What did she send you?”

I reach my hand into the package and retrieve the leather-bound book of fairytales she used to read to me. I lift it to my nose and take a long drag of its smell. The familiarity of it breaks the dam in my heart and tears begin to fall silently. The leather and the smell of Dora’s hand lotion mixed with the old book paper smell is like a salve to my soul that has gone without it for over two decades.

“It’s the book of fairytales she always read to me as a child.”

“May I see that, too?” He asks gently as he brushes off the tears from my cheek.

I hand him the book and watch him as he inspects the outside, then opens it to see the pages within. He turns each page, barely skimming the words until he reaches the end. When he turns the last page, we see that there is a photograph attached to the inside of the cover. Daire pulls it off, looks at it, and flips it over. This time, the tears run down his cheeks as he hands me the photo.

The photo was taken in front of a beautiful castle garnished with plants I’d never seen. A dashing man was standing in front of the staircase leading up to the castle doors, and he was holding a young boy, maybe only a year old. The boy had nearly black, curly hair with bright honey-colored eyes, and he was adorably dressed in a green one-piece playsuit. On the back was written, “My Heart and My Truth, may they both always be my motivation and my love.” I look up at Daire and remember Dora’s words, Never forget that choosing Daire will always bring you to the truth.

“Why did she call you her truth?” I quietly inquire as I pass the photograph back to him.

He laughs softly.

“My mouth would get me into some pretty rough spots when I was little. My father would have highly ranked people come for meetings, events, and so on. I often offered my opinions of their appearance, odors, and such - even when those opinions were not kind. My mother would always say that I’d lead everyone to the truth, and eventually she began calling me her truth. She said it was refreshing to have someone at those functions who said things as they are rather than how people say they ought to be. She was never one for fake manners or pretty masks, but she valued genuine kindness and true beauty. I guess you could say that it took me a while to learn tactful honesty.” He laughs again.

“And some could say that you’re still learning it!” Marek pipes up.

I laugh at the look Daire makes at Marek’s jab before I say, “I’m not exactly the best at hiding the truth myself, nor am I one for sugar coating!”

“Goddess, help us all!” Marek says exaggeratedly.

Daire reaches behind my neck and pops Marek in the back of the head. I instantly wonder if this is what it would be like to have brothers!

“So, my mother believes you are going to have to face some kind of challenge and that this book and your book hold the answers,” he drawls out, as if he is wary of my response.

“I think the three of us should read them both in case it has to do with next weekend’s ball,” Marek suggests.

“Whoa. Wait a second! You two act like Dora can see the future or something. How could she possibly know what I’m going to face?” I demand.

“The same way she knew about your book’s title, its contents, and its release date,” Daire says bluntly.

Something about the look he gives me makes my heart race. I always knew Dora seemed to be more intuitive than others and that she always seemed to be preparing me for something or other, but could it be true?

Could she really know the future?