Page 38 of The Chosen Two

She looks a shade more serious in response to my own change in demeanor. “No, not more ofus, although of course your successor has already been Chosen, even if she’s not ready to be called up. But more creatures, and more…let’s call it bureaucracy. Everything had to be done just how the League of Docents wanted.”

An idea pops into my mind, a spark of hope igniting. “So then…do I even have to do this? I mean, I’m sure the next one in line is at a better stage in her life to take this on than I am. Can’t I just...pass?”

She shakes her head. “You can’t. And you wouldn’t want to! You’re about to embark on the most amazing personal journey anyone could ever hope to endure. You’re going to become so much stronger and better as you go. Trust me, if I can do this, you can do this.”

I nod. “Rightrightrightrightright… I hear you. I do.” I smile weakly. “But let’s just say, I’m totally okay being weak and subpar…I mean, I just, I have four kids. I think I’m done with the part of my life wants to go on a personal journey. I don’t have all that much free time for that kind of thing, you know? Also, I’m really happy for you and your retirement and all, but, um, every other Guardian in the history of Guardianship has also gotten so much…you know…deader…as they went.”

George buries his face in his hands. But Joanna keeps the smile on her face, and her eyes lock on me until I start to squirm. My heart is racing, and just when I’ve decided I’m never going to get out of this moment, she reaches out and takes my hands in hers.

“Miranda, I know you’re scared. This has to be the single strangest thing you have ever had to come to terms with in your entire life. But you know this is real.” Then she sits back, picking up her own glass of lemonade and reclining as best she can in the iron chair. “It sounds like you’re processing this all pretty well though, if you’re already up to bargaining.”

“Bargaining? Like, the stage of grief?”

“Of course, the stage of grief! Miranda, you just lost your life as you know it. Your future. Your plans. Your control over your destiny. And your core belief of how the world works. How could you not be going through a grieving process?”

When she puts it like that, I almost feel normal again. I force my lips to turn upward, but I’m not feeling it at all.

George takes over the conversation, asking questions about Benjamin and Joanna’s training regime, their relationship beyond that, and creatures she’s had to confront.

I lean back into my chair, withdrawing into my own mind. I revisit Joanna’s words, about how she's certain I wouldn’t want to pass on taking this personal journey. But in actuality, I really would. If only I could.

Chapter 15

Miranda

Alittleoveranhour later, George and I drive back to his house. He stares out the window in complete silence for the entire ride, obviously disappointed in my behavior, in spite of the fact that Joanna assured him, multiple times, that (most of) my behaviors and reactions were completely normal and to be not only expected but also commended because I was so open and honest with myself, and with him.

And honestly, as much as experiencing growth beyond my wildest expectations, both physical and emotional, through my training and experiences sounds cool, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll get to see my children experience the growth they will surely attain just by living their lives. If I’ll be around to see the people they grow up to be. If I’ll get to dance at their weddings. If I’ll ever be a grandma. I know this job’s not my choice, but damnit, if it was…it’s not the life I would choose in a million lifetimes.

Joanna must have known what I was thinking though, because even when I got quiet and introspective, she didn’t seem to mind. I really like her. I hope I can be like her one day, happy with this lot in life. Also, you know, alive, retired, and living out my life in peace, not fighting dangerous creatures as my day job.

***

Because Eliza’s picking up the kids and bringing them home to pack before taking them to her house for the night, George and I still have time to train when we get back to his house. But before we get started, I text Jake.

Eliza took the kids for the night. Please don’t come home too late. I’m out running errands but will be home around 5. Love you.

I vacillated about whether or not to send the “Love you.” In the end, I send it to encourage his ass to come home at a reasonable time. I don’t want to give him any reason to be tipped off that this evening is going to be a battle. It appears to work because less than a minute later, I receive back:

Can’t wait. ??

Okay. The trap is laid, so to speak. Now to finish my training.

George and I review everything we’ve worked on all week. Then we spar. I’m a lot better this time. I still don’t beat him, and I make contact offensively only one time. But I block almost every technique he throws my way, and I’m not dying at the end, so I consider that a win anyway. On the way out, he gives me a high five and my first homework.

“I want you to use the weekend to put together a playlist so when we’re sparring, you can get out of your head. I think it’ll help you.”

“Umm, okay. What kind of songs?”

“Whatever you could lose yourself in.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“I can’t be more specific, Miranda. It needs to be music that’ll work for you.”

“George, you may not know this about me, but I’m not particularly good at these kinds of open-ended assignments.”

His only response is a smile, and as he turns to go back inside, he yells to me over his shoulder “You did good today. Have a good weekend.”

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