It's Not Over
Usual disclaimer - see Chapter 1 for the full details, but I own nothing, all the people own themselves, WWE owns the trademark names, I'm doing this to exercise my creativity and for the sheer pleasure of writing. Ask my therapist!
Chapter 8
As usual, Dacey was awake at sunup, and just as Mark predicted, she did feel like a new woman. And she was full of energy too. She sat up in bed and stretched and scratched her head. What she needed was a serious gym workout - a cardio workout, and some of the bop music that Glenn and Mark hated.
She swung her legs out of bed and stood up, stretching tall and then bending down to lay her palms flat on the floor. So far, so good. No twinges, no soreness. She dressed quickly, lacing on a pair of aerobic shoes, and before leaving the guesthouse, she scrawled a note for Glenn, telling him where she was going. She hadn't forgotten the words they'd had the previous morning, and it did seem polite to let her room-mate know where she was.
Letting herself into the house quietly, she headed for the end of the wing where the gym was. Mark had told her it was sound-proofed, because he liked to listen to music when he worked out and she had chuckled, knowing the kind of thing he liked and the volume he liked it at. She figured her music wasn't going to disturb anyone.
Dropping her towel onto one of the benches, she dropped her CD into the player and adjusted the volume, and then moved into an open area of the floor, smiling at the mats that gave a slight spring to the floor. She dragged a pair of aerobic steps close, figuring Isabelle must use them, and as the music began, she started her stretches. Delerium's Remembrance swirled around her from an expensive sound system, and she moved rhythmically through the stretching routine, testing her muscles for any lingering soreness from the match the night before. Nothing, which made her smile, and she stepped up her stretches, taking her body through a series of moves that used her full range of motion, pleased to find herself as limber and flexible as usual. She finished the stretches with the walkover handstand that Glenn had seen, and smiled as the music kicked up a notch.
She grabbed the smallest set of dumbells Mark had, and Patrick Hernandez's Born to be Alive started her cardio workout. She bounced through a series of grapevines, her hands moving back and forth at her sides as she did, working her triceps with the dumbells. Next, she was up and off the aerobic steps, from one side to the other, her hands still moving, this time with bicep curls.
Back to Delerium, and the driving dancebeat of Paul Oakenfield's DJ Tiesto remix of The Silence filled the gym, and she pushed her workout up, side stepping over the aerobic steps, alternating between bicep curls, tricep extensions and overhead pushes as she did. Her steps were light and quick, moving with the music, and she never missed a beat, shifting between the movements with the dumbells automatically, losing herself in the exercise, the rush of endorphins that she always got from her cardio workouts taking her to a place that was simple movement and music.
Glenn watched from the doorway of the gym, dressed in his own workout gear, unable to take his eyes from her. Her hair in its thick braid bounced against the back of her crop top, which darkened with perspiration as she worked out. He couldn't believe it, glancing at the clock as the track finally ended - she'd kept up that pace for almost ten minutes!
The music morphed into Madonna's Hung Up, and Dacey dropped to the floor, still clutching the dumbells, and began a series of pushups, not from her knees, but from a straight leg position, testament to her strength. After that, she did some running kickbacks, still in her pushup stance, alternating between the two exercises. Slowing the pace a little, she reverted to normal kickbacks, her flexibility evident in her movement, curling her back over and then arching it as she pushed back.
Moving to her knees, she did some more tricep extensions as she got to her feet, and Madonna gave way to Christina Aguilera. Dacey took a fighter's stance, punching forward with the dumbells, dancing lightly on the balls of her feet, switching to bicep curls and lunges and back again. As the bridge of the song slowed the music, she set down the dumbells and moved through some long stretches, still moving lightly on the balls of her feet. Finally she bent forward, taking in a deep breath as she straightened and stretched her arms high above her head, lacing her fingers and stretching up, then slowly releasing the breath and the stretch.
In the silence as the music ended, Glenn could hear the slow exhale. Despite her tights and crop top being wet with perspiration, Dacey wasn't out of breath. She turned to the bench to pick up her towel, and stopped when she saw him against the wall. Smiling as she patted her face dry, she asked, "Why didn't you join in?"
Glenn chuckled. "Because it would have been embarrassing to have the paramedics called when I had a coronary trying to keep up. Damn, Dace, your aerobic fitness must be off the charts!"
She blushed a little. "Don't forget, Glenn, this is how I made my living for years. You lead four or five aerobics classes a day for that long, yeah, you end up with pretty good cardio endurance. I still need work on my anaerobic fitness though. That's mostly what I do, weights training. But I feel a bit lost without a cardio workout every day. If it's not in the gym, a run will do."
Glenn walked over and picked up the dumbells she'd been using. Not the light weights that Isabelle used, this was the lightest pair in Mark's set. And she'd worked out with those for, what, fifteen, twenty minutes? "Dace, you're doing okay with your weights work, trust me." He lay the dumbells back in their place while she moved the aerobic steps back to where she'd got them. She looped the towel around her neck and smiled up at him.
"I always feel good after a good cardio workout."
Glenn looked at her lightly flushed face, her red hair damp at the temples, and reached out, taking the ends of the towel in his hands to pull her close to him, bending his head to kiss her lightly. He murmured as their lips parted, "You look good too."
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Mark saw the kiss as he opened the door of the gym, and let it close noiselessly without a word. Yep, there was definitely something going on between Dacey and Glenn. Well, he wished them luck, and hoped to hell that it would work out well. This time, he hit the gym door with the flat of his hand as he pushed it open, to give them some warning of his entrance.
They were still standing together, Glenn holding the ends of the towel around Dacey's neck, she smiling up at him. They both turned to look at the sound of the door opening, and Glenn let go of the towel.
"Morning, folks. Are we well rested?" Mark grinned. He wasn't going to push, or ask.
"I certainly am," Glenn grinned. "As for Wonderwoman here, words can't describe it. Not only did she make it out of bed at sunup, she's just finished one hell of a workout and she's not even breathing hard. Calaway, I'm not sure she's human!"
Dacey laughed, until Glenn moved to the sound system and cued her CD up to the Delerium dance mix. The fast beat of the music had Dacey nodding her head and she grinned at him, moving to stand in front of him, bouncing lightly on her toes. "Okay big boy, you asked for this, remember? We'll start slow, since you're not stretching first."
She began a slow bounce on the balls of her feet. "Come on, jogging on the spot, low impact, we just want to warm those muscles up first."
Glenn followed her moves, and even Mark moved over to join in. After a minute or so, she smiled, "Okay, arms now, bicep curls, without the weights." Her movements were fluid, and both men copied her, getting the knack of coordinating their arms and legs after a little hesitation. "Now we're going to tricep extensions, one, two, three." She swung her hands to the position they would be in if they were holding weights, and again, after a few moments, Mark and Glenn were copying the movements.
"Alright, overhead lifts this time, then we're gonna do them in sets, 8 reps a set." Her arms moved up over her head, bringing her hands one at a time down to her shoulders, and when they had the rhythm, she began counting the reps. After eight, she moved her arms back down to the bicep curl, giving them a moment to catch up, and again counted the reps.
When they got to the overhead lifts again, she grinned. "We'll lift it up a notch now, same reps with the arms, but we'll up the ante with your feet, boxing style skipping. Ready? Go!" She easily shifted into the simple shuffle foot kick skipping movement, and Mark followed pretty quickly. Glenn on the other hand had difficulty and she shrugged. "Just keep jogging in place, a bit faster, you'll get the same effect. Okay, back to our arm reps, bicep curls, ready, go!"
Within a few minutes, both men were breathing hard, and Dacey knew they'd had enough, bringing her arms down to her sides at the end of the last set of reps. "Okay, just walking in place, nice and slow, and shake your hands out. Slowing it down, taking deep breaths, we're in cool down now."
She moved to the sound system and lowered the volume of the music, watching them both carefully. They had both relaxed into normal breathing, and neither appeared in any distress. She hadn't been an instructor as long as she had not to know when people had reached their limit.
Glenn laughed, a little out of breath still. "See what I mean? Hell, Dace, you were doing that with dumbells and bouncing over a damn aerobic step. How long is that track anyway?"
Dacey chuckled. "That's an extended mix, it goes about ten and a half minutes. Give or take a few seconds."
Mark gave her a long look. "And that was it?"
She shrugged. "No, I did some stretching to start with, then some fast cardio to get my heart rate up, then that track, and then some floor work, and ended with some light cardio and a quick cool down."
Mark and Glenn looked at each other and shook their heads. She stamped her foot. "I was an aerobics instructor! Stop looking at me like I'm weird."
Mark grinned. "You're not weird, Dacey. I was just imagining you giving a class for the locker room, guys as well as the gals. That would be an eye-opener, especially for some of these up and comers who think that just because they're young and strong, they don't need to work out."
Glenn laughed. "Oh man, that would be priceless! What do you think, Dacey?"
She looked at them both and shook her head. "I'm the new kid on the block and you want me to make people look stupid? In front of their colleagues? You must both be insane!"
Glenn grimaced. "Jeez, Dace, I hadn't thought of it like that, but you're right. Scratch that idea." He gave her a hug. "Sorry, honey, bad idea."
Dacey returned his hug and chuckled. "Don't scratch it, just shelve it for a while. I think that some of the folks we work with should be reminded that physical fitness is important. Just not while I'm still 'that interloper from OVW', 'k?"
Mark gave her a long look. "I don't think anyone in the locker room thinks of you as an interloper, Dacey, from OVW or anywhere else. You work damned hard, and it's noticed."
She gave him a little smile and a shrug. "Let's say I still feel like a bit of an outsider. I'd like to be a bit more sure of my position before I start making people look foolish, even if it's in a good cause."
He just shook his head. "Have it your way, but I think you're dead wrong. Anyway, I was coming to find out if anyone wanted breakfast." He looked at them both questioningly.
Glenn nodded, as did Dacey, who then wrinkled her nose in a little grimace. "I should shower first though, I think."
Mark smiled easily. "Sure, take your time. I'm just finding out who's eating with Maeve and I this morning. Isabelle's not feeling so hot, so she's still in bed."
Dacey frowned at that, and Mark shook his head with a smile. "It's just morning sickness, it'll pass. We went through this with Maeve too, so we're old hands I guess. Grab your shower then come join us."
She nodded and slipped out of the gym, heading for the guesthouse, and Mark didn't miss the look Glenn gave her as she left. "Looks like you get to help me cook breakfast, buddy. Damn shame, I was kinda hoping Dacey was some kind of gourmet cook and I could just coast this morning."
Glenn laughed. "I think you could expect plain cooking, nothing fancy, when Dace's in the kitchen. She doesn't strike me as the gourmet type."
"True enough," Mark agreed amiably as they headed towards the kitchen together. "She really did the workout she was describing?"
"Well, I came in at the beginning of that ten minute track, and she'd worked up a fair sweat by then, so I'd say she absolutely did," Glenn said. "I have to admit, I was kind of dumbstruck. I mean, I know she's fit, but . . . "
"No doubt about it, Dacey's exceptional in a lot of ways," Mark said seriously. He looked at Glenn, and couldn't hold his words. "Make damn sure of yourself before either of you take any kind of steps towards a relationship, buddy. Take if from someone who had one blow up in his face."
Glenn nodded. "We know, Mark. We're taking it real slow. I'd like us to stay friends, whatever happens. That's enough to keep us both thinking steady."
Mark nodded. "That's a good plan. Here's hoping it works. Because I can't take sides if it doesn't."
Those words had Glenn rather thoughtful as the two men entered Isabelle's sunny kitchen, and Mark sighed. "Everything okay?" Glenn asked.
The response was a wry chuckle. "I'd kill for a cup of coffee right about now, but I don't want to risk making Isabelle feel any worse by brewing a pot."
Glenn grinned. "Is that all? Hell, we got a perfectly good coffee maker in the guest house. What say I head on over there and put a pot on? In fact, why don't we have breakfast over there? We won't disturb Isabelle, and we can all get our caffeine fix. Dace is noticeably bad tempered without her morning coffee, in case you haven't noticed."
Mark clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh. "I knew there was a reason I hung around with you, you're a genius! I'll collect the kiddo and her breakfast and see you in the guesthouse in a bit."
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As he walked across the courtyard to the guesthouse, Glenn remained thoughtful. He could see Mark's point - it would be impossible for him if thingss went sour with Dacey. But it did feel right, the direction he and Dacey were headed. So they could keep taking it slow, and just see what happened. And hope.
He was feeling more cheerful when he pushed open the door to the guesthouse and headed into the kitchen to put on the coffee. Dacey poked her head out of the door of her room and called out, "Glenn?"
"Yup, it's me, Dace. Change of plans, we're having breakfast over here so we can have coffee."
"Good thinking! I'll be out in a minute, just need to get dressed."
He laughed and looked down the corridor. "If Mark and Maeve weren't on their way over, I'd tell you not to bother with that." He winked at her.
She just flapped a hand at him and disappeared back into her room with a chuckle. He grinned and took out the coffee maker, and was filling it with water when she came into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a baby doll tee shirt with "As a matter of fact, it is all about me" emblazoned over her breasts. He stared and then burst out laughing.
Dacey looked down at herself and grinned. "What? Truth in advertising - or would you prefer I wore the one that says 'I'm with stupid'? The arrows on that one point both ways, I can insult you whichever side you choose to stand on." She poked her tongue out at him.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Honey, you could wear a feed sack and still look gorgeous. Though I think you'd look good in one of Chris Jericho's new shirts - the ones that say 'Sexy Beast'."
She hugged him with a laugh. "Nice to know I've got your vote of confidence. So, what are we having for breakfast? Coffee is good, it's fine, it's wonderful, but I need carbs, lots and lots of lovely carbs." She patted his behind as she moved away to prowl through the refrigerator.
He measured the coffee into the percolater, glancing over at her. She was barefoot, one ankle crossed over the other as she bent down, holding the door of the refrigerator with one hand while she moved items around on the shelves, making thoughtful little noises.
"What's the verdict, Dacey?"
She straightened, closing the refrigerator as she turned to him, chewing on her bottom lip thoughfully. "Well, there's bread, so toast is an option. Or I could make french toast - there are eggs, though I usually only use the whites. Let me check out the pantry." She slipped behind him and opened the pantry door, peering inside, making more of those thoughtful noises. "Or there's oatmeal. Good old oatmeal, that sticks to your ribs, as my mam would say." She turned to him and smiled. "Beyond that, my culinary skills are somewhat lacking. There is fresh fruit though . . . hmmm." She looked speculative, and he was about to speak when Mark and Maeve appeared at the guesthouse door, Maeve carrying her cereal box.
Mark opened the guesthouse door, and Maeve's face lit up with a sunny smile. "Uncle Glenn! We're going to have breakfast with you!"
Glenn walked over and picked her up, rubbing his nose to hers. "I know, Maeve."
The little girl looped her arm around his neck, still clutching her cereal box, somewhat precariously. Dacey reached out to rescue it and smiled at her. "Dia dhuit, Maeve. Nach breá an lá é?"
Maeve's widened. "Dacey, what does that mean?"
Dacey smiled. "It means,' hello Maeve, isn't it a lovely day'. It's Gaelic."
Mark cocked an eyebrow at Dacey, but Maeve wasn't done. "Garlic's what mommy uses when she cooks."
With a chuckle, Dacey explained. "Not 'garlic', aingeal, 'Gaelic'. It's the Irish language. The Scottish language too, although I think they are a little bit different."
Mark smiled. "The Scots don't call their language Gaelic any more, it's the 'tung'. But it was the same as the Irish Gaelic until the 15th century, I think."
"How come you speak g . . gaelic?" Maeve stumbled a bit with the unfamiliar word.
"Because my mother and her mother are Irish, Maeve. They taught me to speak it when I was about your age," Dacey smilled.
"Can you teach me?" Maeve demanded, and Dacey looked over at Mark, questioningly. He shrugged and nodded.
Dacey nodded and smiled at Maeve. "I can try, aingeal."
Maeve frowned. "Why do you call me that? My name is Maeve!"
With a smile, Dacey gently touched Maeve's cheek. "It means 'angel', Maeve."
Maeve tried it out, repeating the word a couple of times until she got the pronunciation just right and Dacey grinned. Maeve bounced in Glenn's arms, exclaiming, "I learned a new word!"
Glenn smiled. "Yes you did."
She wriggled in his arms. "I'm hungry." Glenn kissed her cheek and set her down, and she marched over to the table in the kitchen, looking over her shoulder at the adults.
Mark laughed and took her cereal box from Dacey. "I'll get the kiddo her breakfast, if you guys want to start something for the grown-ups."
Dacey looked at them both. "I was thinking French toast and fresh fruit - will that suit you guys?" At their nods, she headed for the refrigerator to collect ingredients, and Glenn and Mark set the table for Maeve, getting her started on a bowl of cereal.
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Poking through cupboards to find a bowl, Dacey found herself humming softly to herself, one of her grandmother's favourite tunes, a traditional Irish jig called "Toss the feathers", the name of which had always amused her as a child, imagining a rain of soft feathers. She separated the eggs and whisked them up with a splash of milk, going more by the consistency of the liquid than any recipe. Once she was satisfied with the eggs, she put a pan on to heat, and, turning, found herself face to face with Glenn.
"Need a hand?" he smiled.
"Can you handle the fruit? I've got the toast covered, I think," she said, adjusting the flame under the pan and getting out the bread.
"Sure thing, Dace."
They worked companionably side by side in the kitchen, as Mark sat with Maeve who was eating her cereal with a serious expression, every once in a while murmuring "Aingeal" quietly. Glenn looked over at Maeve then turned to Dacey.
"You really learned Gaelic at three, Dace?"
She nodded, intent on the pan. "Uh huh. Mam and I were staying with my grandmother while dad was on maneuvers someplace. And Gran insisted that I had to learn Gaelic. She had a real bee in her bonnet about it, and my mam couldn't convince her otherwise. Turns out it was the perfect time for me to start to learn." She darted a glance over at Maeve. "Kids are like sponges, they learn at a really scary rate. And when you're really young, getting your tongue around different pronunciations isn't as hard because you aren't working against years of how you think things should sound."
"So how come you suddenly drop into Gaelic - like you did last night?"
Dacey chuckled. "I have no idea. I can go for months without even thinking about it, and then out of nowhere I find myself dreaming in Gaelic or something. Almost like my brain doesn't want me to forget it, you know?" She turned out the toast from the pan onto a plate and added the last slice, looking over at him. "I'm close to finished with this, you need a hand with the fruit?"
Glenn shook his head, piling the last slices of cantaloupe onto the plate. "Nope, I'm done. We timed that well, don't you think?"
Mark leaned over the breakfast bar and picked up the fruit with a grin. "Even the coffee's perked, so yes, your timing is impeccable. What a team!"
With a grin, Dacey retrieved the plate of French toast from where it had been warming in the oven, turning the pan off as she flipped the last slice out. "Takes talent to be this good, and make it look this easy." She winked over her shoulder at Glenn, who was picking up the coffee pot.
He laughed, and they made their way to the table, sitting down and beginning to eat, while Maeve continued with her cereal slowly. She looked up at Dacey after a few minutes and said forthrightly, "Teach me another word, Dacey!"
Mark gave his small daughter a level look. "Maeve, what do we say?"
"Ooops, sorry daddy. Dacey, would you please teach me another word?" Maeve said and Dacey couldn't help but smile.
"Of course, Maeve," she said, thinking back to how her grandmother had taught her. "This is how we say hello - 'Dia dhuit'." She pronounced the words slowly, exaggerating the sound of them.
Maeve tried them out, with Dacey repeating them for her to mimic, until she finally had them down pat, grinning with delight. "Can we do another one please, Dacey?"
Dacey smiled. "Try this one - 'athair'." She rolled the syllables off her tongue slowly - ah hir - and Maeve copied her, saying them along with her.
"What does 'athair' mean, Dacey?" Maeve asked, her pronunciation almost exactly right.
"That's Gaelic for 'father', aingeal," Dacey said.
Maeve immediately turned to Mark and said, "Dia dhuit, athair!"
Mark's expression was one of pleased surprise as he regarded his daughter, and he smiled at Dacey. "Thanks, Dace."
"My pleasure," Dacey responded, taking another mouthful of her French toast.
Maeve waited until she had swallowed before asking, "How do I say 'mother', Dacey? I want to surprise mommy!"
Dacey had suspected that one was coming. "It's almost the same as father, aingeal. 'Máthair'." She pronounced it slowly - maw-hir - and Maeve copied her almost immediately,, with a big grin.
Glenn smiled. "You were right, Dacey."
She shrugged and continued with her breakfast, while giving Maeve the Gaelic words for various things that caught the little girl's eye. Mark shook his head and leaned to Maeve. "Maeve, perhaps we should let Dacey eat her breakfast?"
Dacey smiled. "I don't mind, Mark. That's how I learned, by asking for new words. And I'm done with my breakfast." She patted her stomach and smiled at Maeve.
"One last word, Maeve," Mark looked at his daughter.
She gave him a nod and looked at Dacey thoughtfully. "How do you say 'goodbye'?"
"That's an easy one - 'Slán'," Dacey said, and Maeve copied her.
Glenn held up the coffeepot and looked at Mark and Dacey, both of them holding up their cups for a refill, while Maeve sat quietly, her lips moving. Dacey could almost bet she was trying out her new words to herself, and smiled as she sipped her coffee.
Maeve turned to her father. "Daddy, may I be excused?"
"You can, Maeve, but don't go into mommy's room, she's not feeling well, remember? You can tell her your new words later today," Mark smiled, bending down to kiss her cheek.
"Thank you daddy, I'll remember," she hopped down off her chair and grinned at Dacey and Glenn. "Slán!"
Glenn laughed and Dacey waved. "Slán agus beannacht leat, aingeal. I'll teach you that one tomorrow."
Maeve nodded eagerly and ran off across the courtyard towards the main house. Mark leaned back in his chair, regarding Dacey. "Now I'm curious, what did you add to your goodbye?"
"Essentially I said 'goodbye and blessings with you'. Not that she'll probably have much use for that, but while she wants to learn the words, they'll stay with her. It's how my Gran taught me. I wasn't fluent in Gaelic til I was maybe six, and Gran always said that was my mam's fault for not speaking it more around me. I do know I learned much quicker when I was with Gran, because she said everything twice - once in Gaelic and once in English. Got so I didn't much need the English and from then until now, Gran only spoke Gaelic to me."
Glenn smiled. "It's a lovely language, Dace."
She nodded. "Isn't it? It's so old world, I adore it. Plus, it makes me feel closer to my Gran. When we fly to do those shows in Manchester in a few months, I'm planning a quick side trip to see her," Dacey smiled and sipped her coffee. "She'll probably bully me for being too thin and I dread to think what she'll have to say about the streaks in my hair. She holds a very low opinion of dyed-haired women, my Gran. I think she thinks it's the work of the Devil." She chuckled.
Mark just laughed. "Dace, we'll just send you off with a picture of the three of us, and she'll not say a word, because she'll know that I was the evil bastard who made you dye your hair!"
Glenn laughed. "Oh yeah, a picture of her grand-daughter with a pair of long haired man monsters, one tattooed from head to foot, and the other a freak in a leather mask. Yeah, that'll make her feel so much better about you, Dace!"
Dacey laughed and shook her head. "She'll just pack me off with a new rosary, and tell me she's saying a few Hail Marys for me. Not much phases my Gran."
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The door to the guesthouse opened and Isabelle looked in. "Mind if I join you?"
Mark was up and at her side in a moment, kissing her gently. "Better let us clear the coffeepot away first, Isabelle."
As he spoke, Dacey stood and picked up the pot, taking it back to the kitchen with her, thanking the heavens that they had pretty much finished its contents. "Can I make you some tea, Isabelle?"
Isabelle nodded and sat down on the chair Maeve had been using. "That would be lovely, Dacey, thank you."
Mark looked at his wife, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "Maeve didn't disturb you, did she?"
"No, I was already up when she came back into the house. She was very excited about learning Gaelic, she said something that she said meant 'Hello mother', but it went by a little fast for me," Isabelle turned to look at Dacey.
"Dia dhuit, Máthair," Dacey smiled. "Yes, it's Gaelic, I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? Why should I mind? I should be the one checking to make sure you're okay with teaching my daughter a new language."
Dacey shrugged, lifting the whistling kettle from the stove and filling Isabelle's cup, bringing it to the table for her. "I'm teaching her some phrases, and some words, which is realistically all I'll have time to do while we're in Texas. But it's fun for me, I don't mind at all."
"Well I have to say thank you, because it's given me another set of ideas on how to keep her mind occupied. I'd never really thought of languages as something that she might enjoy, but she was excited as I've seen her in ages about her new words. We might find a tutor in some other language after you've moved on, Dacey," Isabelle smiled fondly at her husband, who kissed her cheek with a nod. "But you'll be stuck with the Gaelic lessons, I'm afraid. Maeve's taken quite a shine to you."
"I'd have to say the feeling's mutual," Dacey said with a smile. "She's adorable, although I can see how she might be a handful."
"Goodness, 'handful' doesn't even begin to cover it some days!" Isabelle laughed. "But she's our handful, and we love her dearly."
Mark smiled. "Amen to that. I can't imagine life without my little sugar-pie."
Glenn looked at Dacey and smiled, thinking something along very much the same lines.
They chatted desultorily for a few minutes, and then Isabelle looked at them. "So what's on the agenda for today?"
Dacey grinned. "Free day, the two sweetest words in the language of a professional wrestler!"
Mark laughed. "You're beginning to sound like an old hand, there, Dace. What are you planning to do with your free day?"
She looked over at Glenn with a questioning look, something that didn't escape Isabelle's attention. Glenn looked thoughtful and then turned to Mark. "How about I take you up on your offer to loan me your truck? Dace and I can head out for the day and find something to amuse ourselves and leave you guys in peace and quiet."
Isabelle was quick to speak. "Glenn, you don't have to do that, it's your day off too."
Dacey smiled. "And we can spend it anywhere. You, on the other hand, have your husband home with you, which is something we don't want to intrude on." She chuckled. "Specially if you have a big ol' list of 'honey-dos' for him."
Isabelle and Mark laughed, and Glenn looked at her quizically. "What on earth is a 'honey-do'?"
"That's what my dad called his chore list from my mam. As in, 'Honey, will you do . . .'," Dacey chuckled.
Glenn grinned. "Well, we definitely wouldn't want to get in the way of that, would we?"
Isabelle laughed, and Mark put his arm around her shoulders. "Okay, I'll get you the keys to the truck. But don't make plans for dinner - I think it's gonna be a nice night for a cookout."
Dacey nodded, standing up and beginning to stack plates from the table. "You want us to bring anything back with us, then?"
As Isabelle stood up to help, Glenn pointed a finger at her and shook his head. "You, sit. We're more than capable of clearing up on our own." He stood, and he and Dacey worked together, clearing dishes and stacking the dishwasher, over Isabelle's objections, which they both ignored.
Mark laughed. "Face it, darlin', they have you outnumbered, you may as well get used to it." He turned to look at Dacey. "I'll give you a call on your cell if we need anything, but I don't expect we will. Isabelle usually keeps me well set for when I get in the mood to fire up the grill."
Dacey nodded, wiping down the benches in the kitchen as Glenn finished stacking the dishwasher, both of them returning to the table to finish their coffee, Isabelle still sipping her tea.
"So, I hear you had quite a match last night, Dacey. I can't wait to see it, this libretto is quite spine-chilling. Poor Ginger, she really is disturbed, isn't she?"
Dacey set down her cup and nodded. "She's a timebomb ready to go off, alright. But it was a good match last night, yes." She grinned at Mark, who just laughed and shook his head.
Isabella noted the by-play and looked at her husband. "Care to elaborate?"
Mark grinned. "Glenn and I were supposed to come down and interfere, so we left Dace and Jazz to block out what they would be doing. They gave us a 'quick rundown' of what the match was going to be like, and we worked out when we'd all come out and get the out of ring action happening. Only they held out on us," he said, giving Dacey a look.
Dacey chuckled. "Well you didn't need to know the specifics, Mark, just the general timing points. Jazz and I figured a surprise that didn't involve lingerie might be a nice change."
Isabelle laughed at that. "Amen, Dacey. I've seen more tacky underwear watching the shows than I really need to!"
"Well, we were surprised alright. Hell, seeing that little half-pint Jazz throw Dacey in a German suplex was enough to stop hearts right through the arena," Mark shook his head. "It's a wonder we could concentrate on what we were supposed to be doing, seeing the two of them put on this hell of a match."
Dacey propped her chin on her hand and looked directly at Mark, batting her eyelashes. "You mean to tell me that you were surprised what a pair of little bitty girls could do in the squared circle, big dog?" There was a hint of steel in her teasing words, and Isabelle grinned as her husband sat up straight and shook his head quickly.
"Absolutely not, Dacey - I've never doubted your ability, you know that. I was just surprised because I missed the little details that might have caused me to break character," he explained, then grinned at his wife.
Isabelle exploded into laughter, covering her eyes with her hand. "That was utterly priceless, Dacey! Thank you!"
Dacey smiled sweetly and sat back in her chair, tipping Isabelle a wink. "Where I come from, Isabelle, that's one of the laws of the sisterhood. Once I hear that hint of oinking, I am duty bound to deal with it right sharpish." She grinned at Mark. "I know you didn't mean what that sounded like, big dog. But by the same token I couldn't let it go without the reminder, y'know?"
Mark grinned. "Why I oughta put you over my knee and spank you for that, Dacey!"
Glenn gave him a mock-glare. "Then you'd have to deal with me, Calaway. If anyone's gonna be spanking Dacey, I think I have to claim . . ." At the last moment, he shot a look at Dacey and closed his mouth.
Isabelle laughed again, clutching at her sides. "Oh Lord, Dacey, you have these two so well trained! I'd take my hat off to you, if I was wearing one!"
Dacey chuckled, looking from Mark to Glenn. "Well I can't take credit for Mark, Isabelle. Seems like you had him most of the way trained when I met him, he just needs the occasional gentle reminder. Glenn, on the other hand . . ." She winked at him, grinning.
"That's it! It's spankin' time, Dacey!" he growled, the effect of which was totally ruined by the grin on his face.
She laughed and shot off her chair, heading down the hallway to her room, calling over her shoulder, "Only if you can catch me!"
Glenn's chair skidded back from the table as he made a lunge for her as she passed him, and then took off after her. The laughter coming from the end of the hallway made Isabelle raise her eyebrows at her husband, who merely nodded and spoke quietly.
"You were right about them, Isabelle. They say they're taking it slow, so I guess we just have to hope for the best," Mark reached out for her hand, stroking it gently as she nodded thoughtfully.
@@@
Dacey found herself trapped in the corner of her bedroom as Glenn appeared in the doorway, and she held up her hands with a grin. "Uncle?"
He laughed and pulled her into a hug. "Okay, no spanking . . . this time. Next time, who knows?"
She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. "I'll be good, I promise," she said, though the sparkle in her eyes said something quite different.
Glenn gently stroked his hand over her red hair with a smile. "That's what I like about you, Dace - you always leave something to look forward to. Come on, let's shoo the Calaways back into their love nest, and we'll go find something to do with our free day."
With a chuckle, she nodded, heading back to the guestroom's dining room with a grin at Mark and Isabelle. "Sorry about that, folks - he's a handful."
Glenn laughed, shaking his head at her. "One o' these days, Dace - pow, right to da moon!"
They all laughed at that, and Mark stood up, helping Isabelle to her feet in a courtly way that brought a little lump to Dacey's throat as she watched them. His love for Isabelle was written in the tenderness of his actions, and she envied them a little.
"Dacey, I'm going to go shower and dress," Glenn said, breaking her out of her reverie, and she turned to him, taking in the casual workout gear he still wore, giving him a quick nod in acknowledgement before he left.
"I'll leave the garage open, you guys take the truck when you're ready," Mark said, opening the guesthouse door.
"Sure thing, Mark - you two have a nice day. We'll be home in time for the cookout for sure," Dacey smiled at them as they left, then headed down the hall to her own room. She sat on the edge of her bed and put on a pair of sneakers before heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready.