underlying
violence and pain involved.
With one final sidekick that succeeded in pushing Mirissa
back against the ropes, Greco stopped. “That’s enough for today. Go back to the
house and get cleaned up for dinner,” he said.
Mirissa nodded and climbed out of the ring, trying to bring
herself down from the adrenaline rush caused by sparring with someone that
matched her in both ability and speed. How was that even possible? Other than
when she’d visited Tritonia earlier that day and sparred with Asteria, Mirissa
had never gone up against an opponent that could keep up with her when she
didn’t hold back. She made a mental note to ask Greco about that, assuming, of
course, that they would have an actual conversation at some point.
When she walked in the front door to the farmhouse, Mrs.
Baxter was waiting for her with fresh towels and a bag of toiletries. She
obviously knew that Mirissa was going to need a shower after visiting the barn
and showed her to her bathroom.
“Dinner will be ready in a half hour,” she said over her
shoulder as she left Mirissa to get cleaned up.
Twenty minutes later, showered and feeling hungrier than she
had expected, Mirissa walked into the dining room. Like all of the other rooms
in the house, it was small and cozy. More prints that still looked like
Rockwell paintings hung on the walls, and fresh flowers in a vase shaped like
an old watering can sat on the wood dining table that looked like it had seen
better days.
Mr. Baxter was already seated at the head of the table, with
Greco at the opposite end. When Mrs. Baxter came out of the kitchen holding a
huge serving bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, the incredible aroma immediately
filled the room and Mirissa’s stomach let out a growl.
“Sounds like somebody worked up an appetite,” Mrs. Baxter
said as she motioned Mirissa to one of the empty chairs. “Dig in, honey. You’re
going to need some extra calories while you’re here.”
The spaghetti was delicious and the peach cobbler they had
for desert was the perfect end to a superb meal. I could get used to this ,
Mirissa thought. Not that she didn’t eat well at home, but neither she nor her
father had ever been culinary experts, so most of their meals either came from
a box or were simple meat and potatoes. She told herself to remember to ask for
Mrs. Baxter’s recipes to bring home with her when this was all through.
Once Mirissa got her fill of the meal, she turned to Greco.
“So, tell me about my ring. What is its significance?”
“When you’re ready. And, before you ask, you are definitely
not ready now,” Greco said, and left the table before she could push any
further.
“Thank you very much for dinner, Mrs. Baxter. It was really
fantastic.”
“You are very welcome, dear. It’s always a joy to cook for
someone that loves food, but remember, please call me Laura.”
After helping to clear the table and clean all of the
dishes, Mirissa went back to her room to call her father.
“Hey, sweetheart! How’s it going?” Her dad tried to sound
happy and upbeat, but he didn’t quite pull it off, and Mirissa found herself
wishing that he were with her. It hadn’t even been a full day, but she already
missed him terribly, and she knew that with all of this craziness that was now
her life, she would need him more than ever.
Giving him the same, fake, upbeat tone, Mirissa went through
all of the details of her day, spending more time than was probably necessary
describing their dinner, and assured him that she was doing fine.
“I like the sound of those Baxters. You make sure they take
good care of you, and if you need anything, anything at all, you just call me.
I can be there in a couple of hours.”
Feeling better knowing that her dad would come running if
she needed him, they said their goodbyes and Mirissa faded off to sleep.
Chapter 12
A loud knock on the door woke her from a deep sleep. Taking
in her surroundings, her brain slowly got up to speed
Learning to Kill: Stories