"Not right now Winnnsston, can’t you see I’m in the middle of s-something?” I continue to look out the window at the unusually calm lake water below, needing him to leave so that I can find the nerve to turn around.
"Very good sir. Mr. Edgar Mimir is on his way up. Shall I show him in here when he arrives, or do you need some more time with your something?" His tone is as dry as usual, but I know he is mocking me.
"No, ssssend him in. Did he say whyhescoming?"
"No sir. He gave no excuse, just like yesterday and the day before that."
"Yes, well," I clear my throat still refusing to turn around, "that will be all Winston."
"Very good sir. I will take the decanter with me for refill and return it momentarily."
I hear his hard-soled shoes brush over the rug before landing on the hardwood floor, the sound diminishing until there is silence.
The decanter can't be empty already. How much have I been drinking?
"Pillow, where was I?" I glance over at the blue pillow taunting me with how it sags on the beige couch. Lazy pillow. "Oh yes, Morgana… isanillusion. Perhaps I have a… a… a split personality and I don’t realize it.” I pause to reflect in my whiskey haze the idea of two personalities in one brain. My eyes grow wide and I whisper, “Or…. Iseedeadpeople…” I glance up, startled by Edgar strolling into the room looking confident, no, smug. As if he has the best life in the world.
Look at his perfect white teeth and golden, no, flaxen hair, like he just stepped out of a Thor movie looking all...Thorish! He probably has a mighty hammer at home that can destroy pain. I want that hammer.
"Henrik, I see you are having a liquid lunch, again."
His god-like ass makes itself comfortable on my leather couch. He's wearing cream colored pants and a brown cashmere sweater, unwittingly matching my décor. Looking down at my stained gray t-shirt that I’ve been wearing for three days and ripped dark blue jeans, I look like Loki's urchin son compared to him. My pants would be fine if the rip wasn't in my crotch. To my defense, the tear happened this morning when I dropped my sock while putting it on. It took a couple tries but I got the sock on my foot; the other sock proved to be more difficult.
"Are you just here to point out factsss or is there … a reason for your visit? Last I checked, I don’t work for Mimimmiirrr… Mimi R…. Mimir..… anymore."
I watch as Winston comes back in the room, setting the full crystal decanter down on the mahogany coffee table. Without a word, he turns and exits the room, while I am fixated watching his silver ponytail swing like a pendulum. My eyes fall to the amber crystal and walk over to pick it up.
"Why don't we have lunch?" Thor, I mean, Edgar blurts out just as I reach for the bottle. My head swivels in his direction as I close one eye so that the three of him become one.
"Not. Hungry."
Turning back to the whiskey, my hand cradles its neck as I see another hand cover the top. Do I have three hands? I count, one is on the decanter, the other is holding my glass, and one is on top of the decanter. I look up the arm of the third and nod as I discover it's not mine, but Edgar's hand.
"Henrik, stop this. Are you just going to sit here and drink everything away?"
"Yes." I swat at his hand but find I don't seem to have much strength. Sighing, I stumble back on the couch, spilling the small amount of whiskey that was in my glass on my shirt.
"Look at this. Oh, who cares?" I pull at the wet stain on my t-shirt and start to get up, but somehow twist my foot under the couch and fall on my face, while the glass bounces off the floor and rolls over to the fireplace.
"Crap I can't get my foot out. HALP! Help me Edgar, I'm trapped." I try to lift up to a seated position but a sharp pain shoots up my leg. Glancing up, I see Edgar just sitting there rubbing at his chin.
"Why do you say you feel 'trapped' in a man's body?" A smirk appears on his face.
"Well, sometimes I get them menstrual cramps real hard," I reply and a moment later we both break out into laughter. Ah, Edgar. That's why I love him. He knows just the right time to break out a Raising Arizona quote.
He bends down and tugs at my leg, freeing my foot from the sofa's hold. I lay back and look up at the ceiling while my head spins slightly.
"She got in the program."
My eyes bulge at Edgar's statement. I tense and then lift up onto my elbows to look at him.
"I thought that would get your attention." Edgar sighs and looks down at his watch. "Come on, let's head out and get something to eat. I can explain it to you while we get lunch."
Edgar helps me off the floor and guides me into my bedroom so that I can change out of my stinky shirt and crotchless jeans. Once I am changed, he takes me down the block to a polish place. I’m thankful for the dark, old world décor; my eyes fearing light like a vampire. After our food arrives, I dig into my Hunter's Stew as I just now realize how famished I am.
"When does Morgana leave?" I ask nonchalantly while I swallow a bite of kielbasa.