The Morgan Lore - 2. Chapter 2

The Scent of Change, Strangers descend on Portento

Shooting nails into the door frame to secure it in place, Rory felt a sense of unease probe at him. The shift was subtle, almost non-existent, but Rory knew trouble was coming. Turning off the nail gun, he stored his tools in the carrier at his feet. Rory snapped the tool box closed and stretched his arms above his head to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“Rory!”

Rory jerked into motion, rushing out of the section of the house they were extending. Outside, the morning sun danced over the trees to light their large front yard. Connor Morgan stood on the gravel drive, hands on his hips and a deep frown creasing his brow.

“Dad?”

“Go find a shirt, we have to get to town. Chris was racing that Dolon kid on his motorcycle and they crashed. They were raced to the hospital.”

“Shit.”

Rory went running to the main doors of their house. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached his suite. Going into the bathroom, he splashed water on his face at the sink, washed his pits and his arms. Splashed water on his chest and grabbed a towel. Wiping himself with negligent jerks, he rolled on some deodorant, and hurried out of the bathroom. He grabbed a clean t-shirt from the closet, adjusting his jeans, he removed his dirty work boots, jamming his feet into sneakers. He was out of his room in three minutes, and racing downstairs to his father’s pickup truck.

The car was already running. Once in the cab, his father took off down the drive, speeding down the dirt road through the forest, heading to the main road.

“I don’t understand why Chris has to constantly get himself in trouble. This is the second time this month. Do you know what’s going on with him, Rory?”

Rory didn’t know. About three months ago, Chris’s girlfriend walked out on him. She got on a plane and flew out to L.A. saying she wanted to be in the movies. Chris was devastated. His grief so tangible, it was hard to be in the same room with him.

“Do you think Lara was his mate?” Rory asked. “I mean, she’s—"

“No. If she was, and she walked away from him, Chris would be under anesthesia, and not running around like a mad man.”

“Well, then I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Rory said, shrugging his shoulders.

His father drove too fast. They got to town faster than was legal. Luckily, Connor was the town sheriff, no one would bother ask him questions in this town. Finding a parking spot close to the entrance, Connor and Rory walked into the only hospital in their town. The nurse on duty waved at Connor, and directed them to the second floor.

They heard Chris’s laugh before they saw him. A woman was talking to him, her words heavy with accent. Italian? Or maybe Spanish? Rory couldn’t place it. The scent of citrus and bay leaves mixed in with disinfectant, and Rory glanced at his Dad.

“You’re very healthy,” the Italian woman was saying. “You are lucky. Surviving such a terrible accident is no easy feat. I can only imagine how your parents would have taken the news if things went the other way.”

“Not well,” Chris said. “Luckily, I’m agile.”

“Agile is an interesting way to put it.” She laughed, the sound musical. “I would say you are blessed. Many people would have broken arms, legs and head injuries. Chris, you must stop racing through life so reckless. I’m a great doctor, but even I cannot bring back the dead. Promise to be careful?”

“With that smile, I’d promise the world to you, Doctor Ilaria.”

“Such a Casanova,” the doctor said, her tone amused.

Connor pulled the curtain open, to find Chris lying back on the hospital bed, and the doctor applying ointment on the angry scrape on Chris’s left thigh and knee.

“Yes, how may I help you?” the Doctor asked, when she saw them.

“I’m Connor Morgan, his father.”

“Oh, yes, good you have come. I’m almost finished. Chris has deep abrasions on his left knee, and thigh. We have cleaned the wounds and treated them. Your son was very lucky.”

“He really is,” Connor said, glaring at Chris. “Thank you so much Doctor…”

“Ilaria.”

She removed her gloves and held out her hand, her smile wide and beautiful.

“Ilaria Takeda,” she said, shaking Connor’s hand.

She turned to Rory, and when he took her hand, the scent of citrus filled his nose, coupled with soft tones of the most enticing scent in the world. Holding her hand, Rory took a step closer, moving around the bed.

What was it? That maddening scent, so fresh, so….mandarins! Fresh mandarin oranges, the kind that had you gulping up a whole mandarin in one second. The scent disappeared and he leaned even closer, making Ilaria’s eyes widen.

“Rory.”

His father’s voice pulled him back from the precipice, and Rory let go of Ilaria’s hand. A frown dancing on his forehead, he took a step back from Ilaria and gave her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, your perfume smells really good.”

Ilaria’s brow lifted in surprise, and then she shook her head and took Chris’s records from the end of the bed.

“Teenagers, sorry, about them,” Connor said with a sigh.

“I have two at home, I know how it is,” Ilaria said.

She returned the clipboard to the end of the bed and smiled at Chris.

“I think you can go home. If your father comes with me to the front desk, we can get you on your way. Remember, no more accidents.”

“But I like seeing you Doc,” Chris complained.

She chuckled and started to walk away.

Rory moved to stop her, curious about that scent.

“Doctor Takeda—

“Please, call me Dr. Ilaria,” she said. “Dr. Takeda is my husband.”

“Are you new in town?” Rory asked.

“How did you know?”

“Small town,” Connor said his tone full of assurance. “Everyone knows everyone.”

“I can’t wait to be the one that tells the next new person that,” Ilaria said with a laugh.

Rory bit his lip. He wondered if it would be all right to tell her that new people moving into Portento was a rarity.

“Speaking of which,” Ilaria said, her brown gaze meeting Rory’s blue. “Please tell me you go to Ashland High.”

“I do,” Rory nodded.

“He’s a senior,” Connor said. “Chris graduated last year. Why?”

“I have a son going into eleventh grade. He will be new and I was hoping…”

“Rory will look out for him,” Chris interrupted her. “Right, Rory? Doc has been so good to me. We should repay that favor. What’s your son’s name?”

“Milan,” Ilaria said with a wide proud smile. “He’s fragile, but very stubborn. It will be nice to know he has someone he can ask questions.”

Milan, nice name.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Rory agreed.

“Thank you. Mr. Morgan, if you would come with me. We can get Chris sorted out.”

Rory watched his father walking beside the short doctor. He looked animated, far from the gruff man he usually was. Ilaria’s laugh was charming, and it had Connor smiling. It was nice to see that.

“If only she was single,” Chris said from the bed.

Rory sighed, and turned to look at his older brother.

“Why the hell were you racing Dolon?”

“Don’t start lecturing me.”

“Why not?” Rory scowled. “It was your leg this time, who knows what will happen to you next time? If you smash your brains out, no one can put them back in to that empty head.”

“Dr. Ilaria looks capable,” Chris said with a sheepish grin.

“Be serious, Christopher.”

Rory sat on the edge of the bed, careful to choose the right side. Chris’s thigh looked very angry, even as the skin knitted in the healing process.

“Don’t wrinkle your nose at my leg. It was much worse,” Chris said. “The healing process kicked in before the paramedics showed up. I don’t know how I ended up under the care of Dr. Ilaria. It’s a good thing it wasn’t so deep when she was working on it.”

“Scrapes are easy to deal, she won’t know the difference. Best to keep out of her sights for the next month or so. She’ll expect to see scabs if you meet her next week.”

“You’re right.” Chris looked toward the door. “How do you think she moved into Portento?”

“Who knows,” Rory shook his head. “I’m sure Dad will get right on that mystery. Meanwhile, he’s freaking out about you. Is this about Lara?”

“Fuck Lara. Dolon said some shit I didn’t like, so I challenged him. Don’t ask me the details, he got what he deserves.”

“Chris.”

“I’m a Morgan first. Trust me, Rory. If I challenge a bastard, it is for a good reason. Don’t push it.”

Rory sighed, knowing there was no way Chris was going to tell him. He patted Chris’s right leg.

“Alright, but maybe you should talk to Dad. Before he starts thinking you are losing it.”

“I’ll find the time,” Chris said. “So, excited to meet this Milan kid?”

“Why?”

“I saw you leaning into the Doc. You must have scented something good. Must be from the Doctor’s family. A lingering scent from someone close to her.”

“Whatever.”

Chris shook his head.

“I can’t wait for you to find your one, Rory. I really can’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” Chris said with a shrug. He touched the edges of his bloody shorts. “Help me up. I need to piss, and my leg is killing me.”

“You can always do it in the bottle.”

Rory got up when Chris scowled at him.

“Will you help me hold it?”

“Fuck no you’d enjoy it too much.”

Chris laughed, and shook his head.

“Just help me up, will you?”

***