 *Eating chili with Sirius* Red Ninja*Raspberry White Chocolate Mocha
Medea had an insane couple of weeks. No, not insane – whirlwind, that’s the correct term. She was there when mason got word that his friend passed away, and that he was willed the deceased man’s children. The day they were set to arrive they did, right on time; Mason on the other hand didn’t.
The dark haired woman made an executive decision to take the children to her house. The warehouse was unplottable, undectable and unlocatable. Because she didn’t know where Mason was, or what happen or who these children were or if anyone was looking for them she decided the safest place was her house. The minute they arrived she assigned the children each their own room, decided how they wanted it decorated and she made it so, then immediately went to speak with her Grandmother.
”Grandmother?” Medea called to the older woman who resided in the large painting. The canvas was blank, and then as if on cue there was someone gliding from the far corner toward the forefront. Grandmother Ward always walked so elegantly. ”Medea, my dear. You’ve been gone a while.” That was the woman’s way of scolding her for not checking in. ”Err, sorry. Look I have a problem.” Frankly, Medea was worried sick. She finally finds the man of her dreams and he disappears, leaving her with two children. ”I know you do love, I’ve got a couple friends looking for him.”
Medea’s jaw literally dropped, ”How?...Who?...Ughhhhh?” She completely lost her composure as the picture continued to speak as if Medea hadn’t said anything, ”When you didn’t return I did my own investigating. I found out you were safe. Then my connection told me about the children, and then of course of Mason’s or should I say Leo’s disappearance. Everyone I know is looking.”
The love sick heartbroken woman nodded. She didn’t have the words, mostly because she was sobbing.
2 WEEKS LATER
Mason was still missing and Medea wasn’t sleeping… or eating. To make matters worse, Medea’s house elf died – she had no one to cook for the little ones. The dark haired woman had burned more meals than anything, but after two weeks straight she had managed to make a small handful of good meals. Including the one she was plating now. Beef stew.
”Children, dinner is ready.” She put the dishes and bowls on the table and waited for the little feet to dash in. |