Work Text:
When Thalia’s mother had died, she hadn’t been there. She was gone, run out of home by parents who had never respected her, and because of them she had left her real mother behind. She never got the forgiveness she wanted.
When Thalia's dad died, she hadn't been there. She was off adventuring, and he had been murdered, and she had only learnt about it months later.
When Thalia’s biological mother had died, she had been there. Had been part of it, in fact. She had wanted her dead, and was glad when it was over, as much as it had hurt.
When Thalias's sister had died, she hadn't been there. She was safe and locked up where she couldn't hurt herself, and Bella was out saving the world, at the cost of her own life. She had found out second hand. There was never even a body.
Thalia had lost a lot of people by that point in her life. But none of their deaths had prepared her for this. She had learnt how to deal with the death of a loved one. She had no idea how to deal with the inevitable process of someone dying.
If not delivered, return to:
Donovan Locke
14 Moon Crescent
Highriver
Dear Thalia,
We haven't formally met and this certainly wasn't the way I wanted to go about it, but my name is Donovan Locke. You may know me better by the title Peggy refers to me as - “Dad”. Where we are from this is an esteemed title reflecting my close and long term relationship with her, beginning some 30 odd years ago with her birth and continuing on until now. Though it is not the only way of being bestowed such an honour, I received it for my work in creating her, an act I will not detail here as it is far too explicit for a letter she may very well read.
Thalia, I write to you as my daughter in law who I have not met and would very much like to, yes, but also as a fellow spirit. I'm sure you know that Peggy's mother died when she was very young, though I know she does not like to talk about it much. I would never begrudge her her own grief, nor weigh her down with my own, but she sometimes seems to forget that Kade was my wife as well. I am very familiar with the grief I am sure you are beginning to face.
Peggy does not write to me about her health all that much. She worries about me, her poor old dad. I can't blame her - she's right of course, I do care about her more than anyone else. I'm her dad, it's part of the job description. But I'm not stupid, and I know how old she is. She's older than Kade ever got to be, and there's only so long orcs get to live. I knew that going in, as I'm sure you did too. It doesn't change the inevitable pain that actually getting to that point leads to.
I understand of course if you'd rather not speak further of this. If you want to ride out however long she has left - and maybe that's years, like I said, she won't tell me - without a sentimental little human man in your ear reminding you of her mortality, then I can't begrudge you that. If that means you'd rather not hear from me at all any more, that's fine by me too. So long as you look after my little girl as well as I'm sure she looks after you I don't have any bones to pick with you.
If you would like to talk - about this or anything else, my return address should be at the top of this letter. I'd love to meet you Thalia, really.
Love,
Donovan
Your Maybe Dad
Peggy got sick more often now. There was nothing unusual about any of it, just colds, whatever bug was going around that season. But Peggy always caught the cold, always took a few too many days to recover for it to be shaken off easily.
Peggy was getting old. Her immune system was starting to weaken, her body not able to heal as fast as it once had. Thalia didn't know the average lifespan of an orc, but she could see pretty clearly that Peggy was approaching it.
She didn't know how to fix the problem of Peggy aging, but she knew she had to somehow.
If not delivered, return to:
Donovan Locke
14 Moon Crescent
Highriver
Dear Peggy,
I am glad to hear that things are going so well down there. Every letter you send me makes me more tempted to come join you for a while.
Terrific segway if I do say so myself. I'll be down in your part of the world for some business next month and I was hoping you had room at yours to host me a little while. It can be as long or as short a stay as you like, but I miss you a lot Peggy, and I'd love to see you again. I don't want to step on your toes (or on Thalia's) but surely you can find the time and space for your little old dad right? No pressure though kiddo.
Now, on to things up here. Nothing terribly exciting, I'm sorry to say, even the mess between the city guard and the “beautification committee” has been pretty eventless since I last wrote. The weather is starting to cool down at least, but we've still got a couple weeks left of the heat.
Eagerly awaiting your reply - don't forget to get back to me about next month.
Love,
Dad
“My dad's coming down here next month, we're not busy then, right?”
“I don't think so, no, did you want to have him round?”
“I was thinking he could stay with us for a few days. You'll like him, don't worry.”
“I'm sure I will. Now, what dates did you have in mind?”
Thalia didn't know what she expected Donovan to look like. Rationally, she knew he was a human, but Peggy didn't look like one at all, and it made it easy to forget she wasn't Orcish on both sides. Donovan was not an Orcish looking human at all though.
How such a short and twiggish man had managed to create Peggy, who towered several feet over him, and could surely have lifted him like he didn't weigh anything, was confounding.
After his hugs and hellos to Peggy, he turned towards Thalia, and only then did she feel the weight of what she had agreed to settle. Donovan, for his part, smiled widely at her. She could see the resemblance there.
“And you must be Thalia!”
“That's me.”
She felt incredibly awkward here. Donovan had concocted some lie to Peggy so that he could come out here to give her advice on how to handle Peggy dying, as if he wasn't about to lose his only daughter.
Donovan’s arms were open. It took her a moment to register that he was offering her a hug.
It was nothing at all like hugging Peggy. He was short - barely taller than Thalia was - and he was much less soft than Peggy. And yet it was overwhelmingly a similar experience. She called on all of the willpower she had in her to not cry in that moment.
“Let me show you your room, Dad.” said Peggy, and that was that.
Thalia stood on the porch, the air crisp and cold. Leaned up against the railing, she breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself down. This shouldn’t be as terrifying as it was.
The door opened behind her, and she didn't bother to glance back. The footsteps were too quiet, the presence behind her too small. She knew who had come to join her.
Thalia waited for Donovan to say something. To break the silence with whatever line he wanted to share about how she needs to start processing this, or maybe another out. He joined her at the railing, and leaned over it. He didn’t even turn to look at her.
She followed his gaze, but it landed somewhere out past the treeline. She wondered if trees remind him of Peggy as much as they do for her, if he was looking out at them and thinking about the kind of woman Peggy used to be. Or maybe Peggy followed in her mother’s footsteps, and the forest is more Kade to him. Maybe the two of them were sharing some twisted moment of shared grief.
When she looked back, he was fumbling at his pockets, something pressed between his lips. He pulled it out, glanced up at her, and grimaced a little.
“Got a light?”
She didn’t. She didn’t know Donovan smoked.
He took her silence as the no it is, cursing under his breath as he pat himself down once more before stuffing the cigarette away.
“Sorry,” he said, and he really did look it, “I tried to quit back when Kade started getting sick, but stress isn’t exactly good for it. Moments like this I always need one.”
She got it. If there was ever a time for her to take up smoking, it would be now.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
She laughed. Donovan laughed with her. He’d surely heard of her plenty from Peggy these past years, must know she’s not nearly this quiet usually. It’s pretty obvious why she was quiet, she figured.
“Excuse me for not liking the conversation options.”
Donovan had fully turned to face her now.
“We can talk about something else, if you’d prefer.”
“No we can’t,” it felt stupid to drag this out, “she’s- we don’t have-”
“She’s not dying yet.”
His voice is firm, much more serious than she’s heard him.
“She will be soon.”
“And you want to be prepared, don’t you? That’s why you asked me to come out. Why we made all of this up, right?”
Already, she regretted lying to Peggy about this.
“Yeah.”
“Then how about we talk about it?”
They relocated to the living room. Peggy was in bed, tired as she so often was now. Donovan had put the kettle on when they first came in, used the flame to light up, and leaned out the window as it boiled. He snuffed it out when it started to hiss, poured them both a mug of tea, and they had sat down opposite each other.
“When they make it to Peggy’s age now, most orcs die of illness.”
Thalia took a sip of the tea, still too scalding to taste.
“People talk about them as warriors because their bodies don’t really break down like a lot of other species do. They’re physically still hardy for most of their natural lifespan. But their immune system goes much faster. Kade made sure I knew all of this before we got married.”
He laughed, bitter, and took a sip of his tea.
“When Kade first got sick that last time I didn’t think much of it. She’d been sick a lot more at that point in her life. She’d still been working, just taking breaks when she needed them. So I let the town guard know she was sick again, and that she should be back soon. And then a week passed and she didn’t get better, and I told myself it was nothing. It was hard to believe she was an old woman, because she didn’t really look like one. Not in the way I expected her to.”
They both sipped at the same time, but Thalia flinched as she realised how hot it still was.
“And that was it, really. Because after a couple weeks of that I wasn’t denying it anymore. She got thin, so she was probably smaller than I was, on the whole of it- by the end at least. It was all so scary, in those first couple of weeks, before I really understood what it was. Not that going in knowing feels much better, but at least there’s time left, y’know?”
“And then what?”
She knew the answer. She just needed him to say it.
“And then she died, Thalia. And it was just me taking care of Peggy, and there wasn’t time to break down over it.”
She put the mug down. The tea was still scalding.
“So how did you do it? Get past it, or live with it, or whatever it is you do?”
“I wish I could tell you.” He smiled at her then, not quite as sadly as he should have, “But the truth is you keep going because it’s that or nothing. With Peggy around the choice was made for me, and maybe if she hadn’t been there I would have let the nothing win, but I like to think I wouldn’t have either way. Lord knows Kade wouldn’t have liked me to.”
Thalia nodded.
“There’s plenty more I can tell you,” said Donovan, “but I don’t entirely know where to start.”
“Do you still remember her?” Thalia asked, the words slipping out too quickly, “Properly, I mean, not just in theory.”
“Sometimes I wake up on her side of the bed,” he was smiling, “and my first thought is always wondering why she’s up so early, or if I’ve slept in. It was nasty, to remember, in the beginning, but it doesn’t sting in the same way anymore.”
“The local guard remind me of her, sometimes, in the way that they all dress like she did. I mean, of course they do, it’s their uniform, but still. It’s like she’s forced it upon them.”
“And she’s tied up in most of my memories, even though she was barely there for my life. Just the really important years, I guess, when you’re first starting to be a person. It’s where all my memories are, at least. I dunno if she’s real in those - I like to think so, but it’s hard to know for sure. She’s an asshole in plenty, and I like her almost as much in those ones too.”
Thalia didn’t know what to do with any of this.
“And I talk to her, sometimes too. Of course, she never says anything back, being dead and all, but just… when I’m cooking, or cleaning, or one of those things where your hands are busy and your head isn’t, I’ll talk to her to pass the time. Here’s how things are going, have you heard from Peggy lately, the weather has been awfully nice of late. Those sort of things.”
There was a question nagging at Thalia, one she had been avoiding thinking about since the thought of all of this started to be dredged up.
“And when you die…”
“Oh,” said Donovan, smiling, which was getting kind of infuriating, “she won’t recognise me then.”
It hadn’t been her question at all, but it begged to be pressed.
“You’re happy about that?”
“I was three decades younger when she last knew me. I’m unrecognisable as the man I was then. Unless something unexpected happens I’ll be twice as unrecognisable by the time I do die.”
Thalia was staring at him with utter confusion.
“It might be closure, I suppose, to see her again, but we wouldn’t be the same people together that we were. If there’s anything after we die then she’s probably busy with her own things up there, anyway. That’s simply the way she always was.”
None of it added up at all. But Thalia just nodded, as if it did. She still had a few more days left.
When Thalia stepped out the front door, planning to take a walk, she found Donovan on the porch as he had been the day before. It seemed he had found a lighter, leaned over the railing and puffing on a cigarette as he was.
She joined him, leaning against the railing alongside him.
“Stressed?” she asked.
He huffed a laugh. “Aren’t you?”
They shared a silence for a while, the acrid musty smell just barely offputting enough for Thalia to consider returning to her original plan. But she did want to talk more to Donovan, get more out of him. She wanted to know what he meant by the things he had said yesterday, had been turning them over in her head all day.
So instead she stayed, lingering in place while Donovan smoked.
Frustratingly, Donovan did not speak first, and Thalia found her patience wearing thin. How long could it possibly take to smoke a cigarette?
Her leg began to bounce. Her fingers tapped on the railing. She tilted her head back, and tried her best not to scream.
Donovan ground out his cigarette on the railing, finally.
“What’s eating at you, kid?”
Thalia was very proud of herself for not replying “you” and promptly storming off.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle any of this.”
Donovan laughed, although he looked a little embarrassed that he had.
“I don’t think you really are supposed to handle it.”
Thalia pouted. “That’s not helpful, Donovan.”
He smiled. “Yeah, well, that’s the truth of it. We’re social creatures. We’re supposed to not want our loved ones to die.”
“You seem to be handling it pretty well.”
“I’ve gone from a cigarette maybe once a week to a pack in two days. I wouldn’t say I’m handling it well.”
She hadn’t known he’d had more than this one cigarette. How often was he slipping out here?
“Actually,” he said, interrupting her train of thought, “probably best if Peggy doesn’t know I’m still smoking at all.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Probably she suspects I have a smoke on occasions, I’m not so stupid to think my detective daughter hasn’t caught on to me there. But no, she’s never seen me smoke as far as I know and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Thalia just nodded.
“So, you cope with your loved ones dying by speeding up your death?”
Donovan laughed again, much more openly.
“Exactly. Kade was terribly endeared by it.”
She squinted. “Your wife liked that you were killing yourself?”
“She liked to tease that I was racing her to the afterlife. Which was ridiculous, of course, I never won a physical contest against that woman and I never so much as entertained the idea that I could.”
Thalia shook her head. “I don’t understand how you’re all so casual about this.”
“Because it is casual, Thalia. It’s how life goes, eventually. You get old enough and people start to die. My great-grandmother died when I was twelve. I’ve been holding onto grief ever since.”
“But this is different.”
Donovan looked confused. “How?”
That was what drove Thalia insane about Donovan. His lack of proportion. The way he talked about his wife, his daughter, their deaths as if they were no worse than pets.
“Because your great-grandmother was supposed to die before you. And your grandparents and your parents too! And you’re supposed to die before Peggy! You and Kade were supposed to die together! Don’t you get that?”
Donovan looked sad at that, maybe for the first time since he had arrived.
The pair fell silent for a while, and Thalia wondered if she had fucked up. Here was a man probably mourning his daughter alongside her, a daughter who was still alive for fuck’s sake, and she was yelling at him for not doing it correctly. For not mourning his very much actually dead wife correctly.
“Maybe if they were both humans,” Donovan said, eventually, “or if I was an orc, I suppose. But people come with different life expectancies. Kade was always going to die before me. Peggy was always going to die before me. Like I said yesterday, Kade made sure I understood that before we got married. She didn’t want to die while her husband was freaking out over how this wasn’t supposed to happen, I think.”
Thalia didn’t realise she could feel more guilty than she already did.
“I thought we’d have more time.” she finally said, her voice small.
“You still do,” said Donovan, “she’s still alive.”
He turned, glanced at the railing of the porch and swept off whatever was left of the ash from his cigarette. And then he walked back inside, door swinging open and then shut almost silently.
Thalia watched him leave, and then set out on her walk.
Peggy was still awake when Thalia entered the bedroom when she got back. It was unusual by then, with how much Peggy was sleeping. Despite that, she didn’t look all that tired.
“Can I ask you something?”
Thalia couldn’t help the pang of worry. “Of course you can, Peg.”
“Why is Dad really here?”
Peggy looked so sincerely confused as she asked the question, and Thalia felt guilt overwhelm her a little. She should never have done this.
“I-”
Surely Peggy had to know some of it if she was asking. But if she did know the specifics, Thalia wasn’t sure why she would bother to ask instead of confront her, and if she didn’t, Thalia wasn’t sure she had the heart to admit that to Peggy.
“Thalia?” Peggy asked, sounding a little afraid.
“I asked him to come.” she said.
Peggy’s brow furrowed. “I thought you probably had. But why wouldn’t you just tell me that? Why are you both lying about it?”
“Donovan- your Dad wrote me because he was worried how I would take you getting older.”
Thalia wasn’t looking at Peggy anymore. She couldn’t stand to see her face as she connected the dots.
“What would me getting older be cause to-”
She could hear the dots connecting in Peggy’s head.
“You think I’m going to die soon.”
Thalia nodded. She didn’t know how to handle this. She doubted Donovan did either.
The sheets rustled, and Peggy got out of bed. Quietly, she walked across the room. She didn’t say anything more, and when Thalia finally looked up at her as she reached the door, Peggy looked terrified. Her eyes were shiny.
She should have said something.
Peggy left the bedroom, and walked towards the front door.
Donovan found Thalia in the living room, still staring out the window. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since Peggy had walked out, but she knew she had to stay there for when she returned. She needed to apologise, and to explain, and to fix this.
Donovan sat down beside her on the couch. She didn’t turn to look at him, but Thalia was fairly certain he was following suit, staring out the window with her. She didn’t expect him to start talking.
“There gets to this point when someone you love is sick with something that you know is going to kill them that you realise that you're waiting for them to die. You've moved past the acceptance that they're dying, know that you're processing their death, but it sneaks up on you one day that you've grieved them enough that them dying will make things easier.
“You don't want them to die - no more than you want the pain to be over, than you want them to be out of their suffering as soon as possible - but you're ready for it, anticipating it.
“You stop getting up in the middle of the night to check they're still breathing. If they die, they'll still be dead in the morning.”
Thalia turned, finally, to look at him. Donovan looked down then, and stared at his hands for a long moment.
“And this part is important too, so don't let yourself forget it. They're going to go through all of these stages too. Just as much as you know they're going to die, they know it too. The timings may not be the same, but it's happening to both of you.
“You have to let them grieve themself, if that's what they need to do. That's part of your job in all this. It's a lot of work, but we do it.”
Donovan smiled, a little wobbly.
“The point is - when someone is dying for a long time, the grief is going to come out in a way that feels wrong. You're going to be relieved when they- when she dies. You're going to start sobbing at random when it hits you that it's over. You're going to carry the strange half grief for the rest of your life.”
Thalia stared at him for probably too long, trying to take it all in.
“So what do I do about it? How do I manage? How did you manage?”
“There’s not really anything you do do about it. You spend time with other people who knew Peggy. You spend time alone so you don’t have to grieve ‘properly’. You feel like your world has ended and you keep living despite it. There is no solution. But I'll be there if you ask.”
“Do you really have to leave?” Peggy whined.
“Yes, Peggy, I do still have a job.”
Donovan was smiling up at her, the whole scene absurd. Peggy was the spitting image of a petulant toddler.
“He can come visit us again soon, I’m sure.” said Thalia.
Peggy scowled. “I know you have the money to let him retire, you know.”
“Ahh, but I don’t have the willingness to retire anytime soon.”
“He’s got you there.”
Thalia could see the moment Peggy realised she was being teamed up against click in her mind. It was oddly wonderful.
“I’m being bullied.”
“Oh no! I suppose you won’t object to me, your terrible and oppressive bully, leaving your house then.”
Peggy scowled further. Thalia could feel herself beaming.
“You’re both horribly mean to me.”
“Yes, dear,” said Donovan, patting her on the back, “and we love you too.”
Peggy leaned down enough to hug him, not letting go for a little too long.
“I’ll write to you both soon, I promise.” said Donovan, “But I really do need to go.”
“Have a safe trip,” said Thalia, gently prying Peggy’s hand away from her father so he could leave.
Donovan pulled Thalia into a hug then, which startled her somewhat.
“Bye, Thalia.” he said.
“Bye, Donovan.”
The house felt empty, with just the two of them there.
Thalia knew that was ridiculous, that the house was no less full than it ever normally was, but Donovan had been gone for a few days now and she felt alone more often than not. Of course, Peggy was sleeping more often than not, so perhaps that was it.
Peggy padded into the kitchen, resting her head atop Thalia’s.
“G’mornin,” she mumbled, “how’re you?”
Thalia smiled.
“Better, with your company.”
Orcs, as Thalia had learnt a long time ago, purred. Much like Peggy right now.
“That’s kinda gay of you,” she said, “people are going to think you like women or something.”
“Oh no, the horror.”
Peggy put her arms around Thalia, and for a while the pair just stood together in silence.
“I'm sorry about the other night.”
Peggy hummed inquiringly.
“Just, you know, about inviting your Dad round and not telling you. And getting all freaked out about… about you maybe dying. That was shitty of me.”
“You don’t need to apologise.”
“No, I do.” Her voice was shaky. Was she crying? “I wasn’t thinking about you, or how you might feel about it, or how it made you feel. I mean, you dying is probably way worse for you than it is for me. I should have just talked to you about it. So I’m sorry.”
Peggy hummed again, squeezed her arms tighter around Thalia.
“Peggy?” she asked.
Peggy hummed.
“Forgive me?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Thalia knew she was crying.
“I’m sorry, too.”
Now she was crying harder.
“I was angry, sure, but mostly I was just scared. Because- because I don’t want to die, Thalia, and I know I’m getting sicker, know I’m older than mum was. And you finally putting it out there scared me, y’know?”
Thalia nodded. She was scared too. That’s all any of this was.
“And I don’t want to do any of this. The talking about it. The thinking about how I’m dying and how I’m going to lose you.” Peggy must have been crying too. She was getting choked up. “And- fuck, Thalia, it seems so much scarier to be you. I only have to do this for as long as I have left. But you have to keep doing it afterwards, alone.”
Thalia was a blubbering mess. “I’m sorry.”
Peggy shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Fuck.”
Peggy laughed, snotty and loud and crackling at the edges where she was still sobbing.
“This all feels a bit stupid.”
Thalia nodded.
“Can we just…” Peggy paused, sucked in a snotty breath, “can we just, keep living today? I don’t wanna face any of this until it’s actually there. I want to keep living.”
“Okay.” said Thalia.
Peggy leant down again, rested her head back atop Thalia’s.
“This is-”
“Shush” said Peggy. “I can just barely feel your heartbeat. Don’t interrupt it.”
So Thalia didn’t.
“Thalia?”
“Yeah?”
“You should write my dad.”
Donovan,
Sorry I haven’t written you back before now. Things have been weird here, as I’m sure you can imagine. Mostly I didn’t know what to write.
Peggy’s sick, and has been for a while. She asked me yesterday to write to you. I’m not sure that I’m at the point where I believe what’s coming just yet, but I think she is. But even if she’s wrong, and I’m right, you should probably come visit pretty soon. Just to make her feel better about all of this.
Thank you again, by the way, for all of the advice. It’s helping, I think. I haven’t cried that much about all of this yet. Ignore the state of this letter I spilled a glass of water near it.
Sorry this letter isn’t longer. Come down quickly and I’ll catch you up on everything I should have in a letter like this in person.
Love,
Thalia
Your Second Favourite Daughter
The two of them were sitting side by side on the couch, in her house that felt too big, too empty. There were two mugs set on the table, and an ashtray she had improvised a few days ago. It had been a wonderfully hot day out, the sun shining down, and neither one of them had been able to bear it.
The taste of cigarette smoke had become a comfort in this past terrible week, and Thalia had every mind to ask for one herself. If ever there was a time to take up smoking.
“When she was seven, Peggy tried to help this older lady who was new around when some of the local kids tried to run off with her purse.”
This was how the silence had been broken each time so far, these past few days. One of them would offer up a memory, and only then would they both speak further.
“And she got the purse back, but I guess the kids had taken something out already, because the old lady sends Peggy on this quest to get it back. And in the process Peggy finds out that one of the members of the local guard had been paying the kids to nick stuff for him, and it ended up being this whole blown out scandal that she uncovered. All by herself.”
Thalia smiled, trying to picture a younger Peggy investigating.
“I think that was the first one of her cases that I found out about because someone came to me asking legal advice on it - that wasn’t Peggy, I mean. I knew she loved a mystery but there was just something about seeing her do all that all by herself.”
Thalia nodded. “She always could do everything by herself, even when she didn’t want to.”
“Especially when she didn’t need to.” added Donovan.
Thalia’s eyes were getting wet again, somehow. She was starting to feel dehydrated by it all. “I’ve never had to do anything all by myself.”
“It’s a good thing you’re stuck with me, then.”
Thalia cried for a while, like she always did, and when the worst was over she picked up the mug of cold tea and took a sip, grimacing a little. She drank a little more, as much as she could stomach, and set it back down.
“Right when we first stayed at the institution, Peggy kept making me crafts all in pink. And I’m sure you know she didn’t really do favourite colours so I asked her why she was doing that.”
She laughed a little, in that strange way that all her happy laughs were still a little sad then.
“She told me that she was doing it because it was my favourite colour, and she thought I’d like it. Turns out that she barely understood the idea of a favourite colour at all back then, and I guess she conflated Bella’s with mine. But after I explained them a bit better, and told her mine was red, she started making everything red.”
Donovan nodded.
“Peggy liked red, as much as she ever had a colour.”
And afterwards again there were tears, and then silence, and sipping at cold tea and puffing on cigarettes.
“Donovan?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you tell me about her? About… About Kade, I mean.”
And Donovan smiled, and nodded. And that evening concluded as the morning had begun, only Donovan told all the stories, and Thalia just listened. There would be a tomorrow to tell more about Peggy. If today was any sign, there would be a great deal many more tomorrows.