Greywalker - Kat Richardson [61]
I nodded. “So why don’t you just tell Ben that you know some of the theory and philosophy is bunk? You can prove it yourself, can’t you? As a witch, I mean. Hell, I would.”
She leaned back and narrowed her eyes at me over the rim of her glass. “Never been married, I see.”
“No. I’m not even very good at dating,” I admitted.
“Many of us aren’t. We see too much, and it’s difficult to dissemble all the time.”
For a moment, I could imagine the look that must have been on Will’s face when I called him from the police station. “Yeah,” I replied.
We both sipped wine and I decided to wade in with both feet. “Why do you glow?” I asked.
“Do I? It’s a glamour, I suppose. A habit. I was a spotty, gawky child, and though Ben is always telling me I’m lovely, it’s hard to get over the idea that I’m not just as awful now as I was then. You know how that is, I’m sure.”
I nodded. “Oh, yes. I was fat.”
She gave me a sober look, then grinned. “Childhood’s a bugger, isn’t it?”
Mara and I were sitting at the kitchen table, giggling like longtime girlfriends at a sleepover by the time Ben got home. He stuck his head through the kitchen doorway and smiled at us.
“Hi! I see you two are getting on like the famous house on fire.”
“Oh, passing fair,” said Mara, rising to kiss him. “How were all the budding little linguists?”
“Lugubrious, possibly even mummified.”
She tousled his already unruly hair. “Well, go scrub the tomb dust from your hair and dinner will be ready in about fifty minutes, all right?”
“Sehr gut,” he said and smooched her before ducking out. We could hear him ascending the stairs.
Mara and I drank more wine and chattered while she finished up the dinner preparations. As her husband descended toward the main floor, she turned to me with a look of concern.
“You’ll not say anything to Ben, will you? About my doubts.”
I frowned at her. “Of course not. Who am I to break up a marriage over a theory?”
She was still laughing when Ben entered the kitchen.
“What’s funny?” he asked, patting himself down. “Did I forget something? Hair sticking up, soap in my ears?”
“No, darlin’. Harper’s just very funny, you know. Go pour yourself a glass of this green wine our guest’s brought us and have a chat, while I set the table.”
Mara whisked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with her husband. He settled himself at the table and poured wine into a glass. “You two seem to be getting along.”
“Mara’s lovely.”
“That she is. First-class researcher, too. We met over research.” He made a goofy grin.
“What sort of research?”
“Mara was doing some geologic studies in a dig out in Ireland that I was also on, doing some ancient religions research. She had some religion questions and I had some questions about ley lines, and we ended up sitting in the pub all night, talking about everything under the sun.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes, I’m too much the scientist for Mara’s taste.” He made a rueful shrug. “I get enthusiastic and bury myself in all the squirrelly little details. Probably can’t see the forest for the trees half the time, but she keeps me looking up often enough that I don’t go completely into the woods. And speaking of being lost in the woods, how are you doing? Getting any more comfortable with the Grey?”
“Yes and no . . . there is something I need to ask you—”
Mara came back to the kitchen and we moved the conversation to the dining room.
Once we had food in front of us, Ben prompted me.
“What were you