Golden Bird

Exactly nineteen hours and fourteen minutes after speaking to David Wilson on the phone, Rashid was riding in a hired limousine through the streets of Saxon Mills, Vermont. The limo pulled to a stop in front of the address given, and Rashid got out before the driver could open the door for him. He motioned for the ever present bodyguard to stay in the car. The man protested, but obeyed.

Rashid turned to look at the small cape style house. This was where his golden bird had flown. Was David Wilson right? Did she really love him? There was only one way to find out. He walked up to the door and rang the bell.

Sara and her mother were eating dinner in the kitchen, and when the doorbell rang, Edith got up to answer it. She opened the door and was taken aback by the tall dark man in Arab garb standing on her front porch. “Oh my.” she said.

“Mrs. Pearson?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she answered.

“I am Prince Rashid al-Ahmal,” he stated simply.

“So, I gathered. What do you want?”

Just then, Sara emerged from the kitchen. “Who is ...” she started to ask, but stopped short when she saw Rashid.

Their eyes met. She put a hand on her rounded belly. His eyes followed the movement and he stepped forward.

“Oh my God,” she cried softly, then turned and ran up the stairs to her room.

Rashid turned to Edith, and she answered his pleading stare with a nod and said, “It’s the first door on the right, at the top of the stairs.”

“Thank you.” He smiled gratefully at Sara’s mother, then took the stairs two at a time. He knocked on the door she had indicated.

A muffled “Go away!” greeted him, but he ignored the command and opened the door.

She looked up at him from the pillow she had been sobbing into.

I said go away. I don’t want to see you.”

Rashid closed the door and leaned his back against it, staring at her. She wore an old gray sweat shirt and faded jeans, and her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a few stray strands of gold escaping the elastic. Her face was blotchy, and her eyes were red from crying. But to Rashid, she never looked more beautiful.

She glared at him. “This is not your Palace, this is my home, and you can’t just do anything you damn well please here,” she yelled. “I don’t want you here.”