Two bearded men in suits sitting at the end of a table noticed us and jumped up, hurrying over. They went straight to my father, looking way up and shaking his hand with exuberance.
“You must be Mister Mason, then!” said the older little gentleman with a long, white beard. He wore a matching charcoal cap, which he took off to reveal a shiny bald top with tufts of fluffy gray hair around the sides.
“Yes, sir,” Dad said. “That’s me. Call me Leon, please. This is my wife, Cecelia.”
“So nice to have you! I’m Brogan, the father of McKale, I am.” He bowed toward my mother and she inclined her head to him in return. Then he looked toward Cassidy and me.
“This is Cassidy, our youngest,” Mom introduced. “And this… is Robyn.”
Brogan nodded at Cassidy and then came forward to stand in front of me. He bowed low and I let go of Cass’s arm to do a curtsy/bow combo, which felt absurd. He straightened and smiled big, wrinkling his whole face and eliciting a smile back from me. I felt like I should squat to talk to him because of the height difference, but stood straight for fear of appearing condescending.
“Ye’ve a pretty face, Robyn, that’s fer certain,” he said.
“Thank you, Mister Brogan.”
He gave a hearty laugh. “Just Brogan is fine by me. I suppose ye’ll be wanting to meet my McKale, then, eh?”
No!
Not yet.
The moment I’d waited for all these years was here, and now all I wanted was more time.
Brogan winked up at me. Why did he seem so happy? Couldn’t he see this was a bad fit? Didn’t it bother him that his poor son was being forced to marry a behemoth female? I bit my lip as he peered around at the crowd. He pointed to the middle.
“There he is, back there fiddlin’. Soon as this song ends I’ll call to ‘im. He’s our best fiddler, he is.” Brogan grinned up at me with pride and I followed his gaze toward his son. My face wore a neutral expression that I’d practiced to perfection. I didn’t want to give away the fact that my heart was going ballistic or that my insides had all but liquefied.
I’d spent my life dreaming of him. And then I’d spent every moment of the last day
un
dreaming him. As much as I prided myself on emotional control, it all fell to the wayside as I weaved my sights through the sea of dancing little people, seeking out the sound of the fiddle, and finding the source sitting on a tree stump.
My hand flew to my rapidly pounding heart in my throat as I stared. Sitting on the stump with his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles, was a redheaded guy playing his heart out—an average-sized man among the little people.
I think I made a really weird squeaking sound, but I couldn’t be sure.
His eyes were closed. His wrist moved back and forth over the polished fiddle at high speed, ringing out pure notes of sunshine in the darkness. I would remember every detail of those few seconds for the rest of my days. I’d expected to feel emotional when I laid eyes on him. But I hadn’t expected the emotion to be so intense that it would impact me physically. Blood rushed through my veins at an alarming speed. My mind swirled and I swear I tilted to the side, off balance and unable to fully fill my lungs.
Cassidy was the drama queen, not me. To be so out of control was disorienting.
“Ohmigosh, ohmigosh,
ohmigosh
!” Cassidy squealed, and started jumping up and down and clapping when she saw him. Mom grasped her by the wrist and begged her not to make a scene. My family beamed at me and my eyes stung.
I looked back at McKale. His father had been right to brag; he played beautifully. I’d never known anyone who played a violin. I loved the bursts of tinny sound, especially when combined with the high-pitched wooden flute of the Leprechaun boy next to him. It was a lively tune that had everyone kicking up their heels, clapping, and spinning one another round.
Brogan turned and caught my expression.
“No’ bad, eh?” he asked. I smiled and nodded my head. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I would squeal idiotically like Cassidy. I looked over and saw her wiping tears from her face. Oh, man, I wished she wouldn’t do that. When she caught my eye she gave a great laughing sob and reached out to hug me. I was such a firmly wound bundle of emotion that I had to lock my jaw and swallow hard. We pulled away as the song ended, and my heart began doing that slamming thing in my chest again.
The crowd cheered and Brogan hollered McKale’s name, waving his arms at him. I held my breath as McKale lowered his instrument and peered around the crowd, searching for the caller. As soon as he spotted him, Brogan motioned toward me. Cassidy stepped away, nearer to our parents, leaving me as the lone beacon for McKale’s sights. His eyes moved slowly from his father… to me, and stuck there.
Later, I would ask Cassidy how long we stayed like that, just staring at one another across the field, and she swore it was only for a few seconds. It felt much, much longer to me, like forever. I schooled my face into its careful, expressionless pose and he seemed to do the same.
He stood, and as he made his way toward me in long, graceful strides, a hush dropped over the party. He towered over the other people, walking with purpose. The closer he got, the more apparent it became that he was gorgeously, blessedly
tall
. I pressed my lips together against the geeky grin that was trying so hard to appear.
McKale wore a dark green tunic with brown bottoms that went to his mid-calf, and his bare feet swished through the grass. His dark red hair hung in waves about his head. He had sideburns that turned into a thin beard running neatly along his jaw line down to a slightly pointed chin. His nose was straight and narrow and when he stopped in front of me I could see his eyes were hazel. I couldn’t look away from him.
“This is Robyn, son,” Brogan said.
He needn’t introduce us because we hadn’t taken our eyes from one another since locking gazes across the clearing. McKale inclined his head toward me. His expression had not changed, but his eyes searched my face with a pleasant, bashful curiosity.
“This is her father, Leon,” Brogan continued, introducing my family. “Her mother, Cecelia. And their youngest girl, Cassidy.” McKale gave a small bow of his head in greeting to each of them before turning back to face me, stepping closer. I got a whiff of something sweet just then, but I couldn’t place the scent. A natural aromatic of some sort, distantly familiar.
“Very pleased to make yer acquaintance, Robyn.” He spoke in a soft, lilted tenor.
I opened my mouth to say something amazingly intelligent, but what came out was a short burst of joyful laughter. The grin I’d tried to contain stretched across my face.
My laughter seemed to take him by surprise. I forced the smile away.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just that… you’re so… tall.”
Nearby little people gasped. A hot blush flooded my cheeks at the stupidity of my remark, and McKale’s face darkened.
“Aye. That I am.” He cleared his throat, looking away. An awkward silence fell, and I knew I’d screwed up, though I couldn’t understand why. Sure, it had been a lame thing to say, but he acted like I’d insulted him or maybe I’d insulted his people. I felt terrible.
The music still played, but stray clan members were beginning to assemble around us. I opened my mouth, not sure of how to fix the moment, but McKale beat me to it.
“I’d best be returning.” He motioned to the musicians who’d started a new song without him. “I bid you good evening.” He gave me one last reluctant look, as if he’d been shamed, then he turned and bowed toward my family and walked swiftly away from us. My mouth fell open as I stared after him.
Brogan stepped up, smoothing his beard down several times.
“I’m afraid ye’ve found the boy’s tender spot.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He’s a tad sensitive about his height, is all.”
My sister and I shared a shocked glance.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” I told Brogan. “I mean, look how tall I am!”
He cocked an eyebrow as if it wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. I felt myself frown.
“We Chaun men pride ourselves on being small of stature. I’m afraid he’s had a hard time of it. Forgive the lad, please.” People from the crowd stared at us. Brogan stepped away to shoo them, saying they’d have a chance to meet the guests after we got settled.
“Geez,” Cassidy whispered to me. “He got all weird about being called
tall
? That’s kinda… sad. Maybe he’s like Rudolph or something. I bet he can’t join in any Leprechaun games.”
She started to giggle at her own joke, but Mom elbowed her in the ribs.
“I can’t believe I said that,” I muttered, still staring out into the crowd. I couldn’t even spot where Brogan had gone now. I looked pleadingly at my parents.
“He’ll come around.” Dad patted my shoulder. Mom nodded in agreement, but her face appeared distressed about how fast our first meeting had soured.
“He could have been a little nicer about it,” Cassidy said.
“I think he’s shy.” I couldn’t help but defend him, even though I was shaken by the brief introduction. Nobody could possibly understand how stressful that initial meeting had been for McKale and me.
A sudden cacophony of strange noise came from the field to our right. It sounded like swishing grass and stomping feet. And something else… bleating? One of the Leprechaun men hollered something and the crowd surged to get a look at the field. The musicians began playing faster and louder, giving each other amused, knowing glances.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I’ve no clue,” Mom said, keeping a wary eye on the field.
A single white, fattened sheep ran through the high grasses with something dangling off its back. Another sheep followed behind it. After a few beats an entire flock of sheep came barreling through the field, all with these strange wiggling little things attached to their tops. A great roar of laughter rose up from the majority of the crowd, while the older, bearded men of the clan shook their heads and pounded their fists, red in the faces.
“What in the world?” Dad murmured. He took a protective stance in front of us three girls and motioned us to step back. We backed up as far as we could against the building just as the herd of sheep came stomping into the clearing in front of us.
One of the little things jumped off of its sheep’s back and ran right in our path. My eyes bugged out as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing. Cassidy screamed, dancing on her tip-toes as if it were a snake. Dad threw his head back in laughter.
“Is that… was that…?” I stammered. No freaking way. It looked and moved
exactly
like a man—a foot-tall man.
“I don’t believe it,” Mom said. “It’s the Clourichaun making a grand entrance, same as they did in the tales of old.”
“I thought you said some of them were normal sized!” I said.
Everywhere we looked miniature men were jumping off the backs of sheep, scurrying up on tables and dunking their heads into people’s mugs or dancing little jigs. Once Cassidy and I got over our initial confusion we laughed at the spectacle. Some were climbing the Leprechaun men and sitting smugly on their shoulders or heads. Cassidy pointed to one who sat on a woman’s shoulder and dove down into her cleavage, only to be pulled out and flicked away by her frowning male friend.
Leprechauns shooed the sheep out of the clearing, trying to herd them back into the direction from which they’d come. Cassidy elbowed me.
“McKale’s looking at you!” She spoke through the side of her lips.
I spotted him sitting at one of the long benches on the far side, leaning back with his elbows on the table behind him. A dark-haired little Clourichaun sat straddling his shoulder. McKale quickly dropped his eyes when he saw us looking.
Without hesitation, I turned to my parents. “Be right back,” I told them.
They nodded in agreement when they saw McKale. I started in his direction before I could lose my nerve. Cassidy caught up and walked by my side. McKale glanced up once and his eyes widened, but he looked back down again. I think the mini man was asking him something because he kept giving his head little shakes and nods. McKale had something sticking out of his mouth, like a large toothpick.
I weaved through the crowd and stopped, standing between his feet. He stared at my legs for a moment before timidly lifting his greenish-brown eyes to mine.
“I’m sorry I brought up your height,” I told him, opting for openness. “To be honest, I meant it as a compliment. I’m glad you’re taller than me.
Really
glad.”
Okay, shut up now, Robyn.
I clasped my fingers together behind my back.
His face softened and he appeared embarrassed, eyes flickering around me. I became a little distracted by the man on his shoulder who hadn’t stopped moving, trying to get my attention. At the moment I could have sworn he was pretending to do something naughty to McKale’s ear. Cassidy’s giggling confirmed it. McKale pulled his head to the side and his red eyebrows drew together. He pulled the little stick out of his mouth.
“Cut that out, cheeky bugger.”
The little man gestured to us girls, then pointed at his self. McKale sighed and tossed the stick in the grass.
“He wants to meet ye.”
“Oh,” I said, squatting a little to see him better. Being so close to McKale’s face, I caught the flavorful scent again and recognized it this time. Licorice.
The Clourichaun looked no older than McKale, with a head full of curly brown hair. I smiled at him and said, “I’m Robyn.”
He extended his arm and I put my fingertip in his hand, which he shook up and down, then to my amusement he kissed my finger. I heard him holler in a squeaky little voice.
“The name’s Rock! Yer quite a looker, there, Robyn!”
“Wow,” I laughed. “Thanks…
Rock
.” I moved to the side. Cassidy shot me a nervous look when I beckoned her toward him. She leaned down, putting her hands on her knees and examined Rock with wonder.
“My name’s Cassidy. I’m Robyn’s sister.”
He waved her closer, using his whole arm for the gesture. She leaned in, but he waved her closer still.
“Careful now,” McKale warned.