Once Upon A Kiss: Seventeen Romantic Faerie Tales

by Alethea Kontis

  Now, he’s standing near his buddy’s casket, and this ass wants war stories? “No, it was all pretty boring,” Rush says, inclining his head to Jeff’s casket.

  “He’s being modest,” his mom exclaims, and he’s pretty sure everyone in the funeral home can hear. “I saw him on television, coming back from Asgard through the World Gate!” She pats his arm. “I saw Jeff’s obituary in the paper and knew you’d be here. Had to come by and say hello.”

  “I sure want to hear about it all,” says Justin, smiling. And are they both on something? Rush doesn’t smell alcohol, but the volume of their voices, and the assumed camaraderie, it just feels … wrong.

  “This is hardly the time or place, Sir.” It comes out of Rush in a whispered sing-song and must sound extra psychotic because Justin and his mom both take a step back, smiles dropping. They stare at Rush with wide eyes, and damn it, Rush wanted to avoid a scene, but it looks like he’s made one.

  “Would you like some refreshments?” a woman asks, stepping from the aisle of chairs in the viewing room. She’s about Rush’s age and has dark hair and skin that’s a warm, natural tan. Justin’s eyes light up at the word “refreshments.”

  “Promise to come see me,” Rush’s mom insists, and Rush just wants her to leave.

  “Fine,” he grinds out.

  Rush’s mother looks at Justin and says, “Refreshments would be nice.”

  “This way,” says the woman. As she turns, Rush catches a glimpse of dark brown eyes, and then she’s gone, leading his mom and Justin away.

  Just before they step out of the viewing room, his mother turns and says too loudly, “Remember, you promised to come visit me!”

  They never even paid their respects. Turning away, Rush puts a hand on Jeff’s casket to steady himself. He feels completely exhausted … drained, and, it’s an odd time to notice, but he’s also famished.

  “Jeff,” he whispers, turning back to his friend. “Jeff?” The ghost does not return. Still Rush waits, hoping he’ll show up. Other people wander by the casket and pay their respects, and then Deanna comes over and whispers. “I’m so sorry … I heard your mother … ”

  “Not your fault,” Rush says, remembering his mother talking about the obituary.

  His stomach rumbles, and Deanna says, “They left a little bit ago. If you’re hungry … ”

  What had Jeff said? “The last deployment.” Rush has a sense that his friend is never coming back. Defeated, he nods and steps away.

  The refreshments are in a small kitchen area set off from the main foyer. He’s helping himself to some subs sliced into palm-sized pieces when he remembers what else Jeff had said. “Take care of Deanna, she’s—”

  She’s what?

  She’s Deanna and Rush really doesn’t like her. Oh, she has always played nice around him, but she was the one that insisted they move away from the apartment complex when they had the twins. Typical woman, putting her kids before her husband and everyone else. He knows women can’t help it, but he always felt like …

  Like what? Like Jeff might have adopted him if she hadn’t come along? He takes a swig of apple juice. Probably not, but at least he would have stayed in the complex.

  “Hi,” says a feminine voice. Rush looks up from the too-small paper plate he’s piled his sandwiches on, and there’s the woman he saw earlier, with the dark hair, dark eyes, and warm brown skin.

  “I’m Katerina,” she says, “Deanna’s neighbor.”

  With the lilt in her voice when she says her name, and her skin tone, he’d say she’s probably of Mexican heritage, but the otherwise perfect pronunciation pegs her as one hundred percent American. She’s pretty. Really pretty. Not too skinny, not too fat, and dressed like she cares, in a dress that is flattering, but not out of place at a viewing. Normally, he’d be finding a way to get to know her … but it’s either Lewis’s magic or his friend being dead, he’s really not feeling up for it, in any sense of that expression.

  “Rush,” he says.

  “I heard.” She gives him a tired sort of smile that still manages to show off some really cute dimples. Her eyes are a little red, like she’s cried a bit, and he can understand that.

  “Earlier,” she says, “You handled yourself well.”

  Raising an eyebrow, he confesses, “I wanted to punch someone through the wall.”

  “Well, I don’t think anyone would have blamed you,” she says with a sigh.

  “Thanks for getting them out of here,” he replies.

  She shrugs. “No problem.”

  From outside the tiny little kitchen area he hears the sound of two kids screaming.

  Katerina’s face pinches. “Oh, those are mine. I better go.”

  His eyes slide over her left hand and he doesn’t notice any rings. She's a single mother. He doesn’t need that sort of drama. He digs into the next sandwich.

  “God, Rush, you eat so much,” says another familiar voice. He looks up and sees Bianca, Jeff’s youngest. Her brown curly hair is pulled back from her face, and her eyes are puffy and red.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Rush replies. He and Bianca got along once. Now they’re like real siblings, and just seem to grate on each other constantly; he isn’t sure what happened.

  She rolls her eyes and goes to grab a bottle of water from a tub of ice.

  She’s eight years his junior, just a girl really, and he has to be bigger than her. “Sorry about your dad,” he says after swallowing the sandwich practically whole.

  Bianca’s shoulders fall, and she wipes her eyes. “Yeah.”

  Rush picks up another sandwich, and then notices that tears are dripping from her face into the ice. Feeling suddenly helpless, he goes to put a hand on her shoulder, but she pulls away. Looking down at his sandwich, she snaps, “Glad we could supply you with free food,” and walks out of the room. Rush’s hand is still awkwardly suspended in midair, and he has no idea what he did wrong.

  “Take care of Deanna,” Jeff’s ghost had said. Rush suddenly hopes that Jeff meant that there is some sort mob hit out on her—because that he could handle—if it is some sort of emotional support he’s supposed to give, he’s pretty sure he’s doomed.

  Chapter 5

  “Where is Mom?” Bianca asks, coming down the stairs into the “basement.” It isn’t really a basement, just the lowest level of the split-level house in the ‘burbs. Rush is angrily shooting at things on the PlayStation. It’s been over a week, and his probably Lewis-inspired problem still hasn’t gone away. He glares up at Bianca. She’s wearing a huge, ugly red fleece sweatshirt and sweatpants. It’s scientifically proven fact that guys in outfits like the SEALs have higher testosterone and normally a large sweatshirt and baggy pants wouldn’t kill his drive. And normally, he finds that frustrating—women don’t have to do anything to get laid—men actually have to work at it.

  “Why are you glaring at me like that?”

  Rush blinks. “Mad at the game,” he lies.

  “I can’t find Mom,” Bianca says.

  “Maybe she’s in the attic?” Rush suggests.

  Bianca’s mouth drops open. “Yes, she said something about going to sort some stuff there.” She turns tail and runs off. Rush tilts his head. Really, her ass doesn’t look bad in sweats. Not that it will help him any. He’s verified many times that he really is broken. Frustrated, he throws down the controller. This predicament is really just an evil plan concocted by Lewis to get him to beg her to release the curse. And let's face it, he probably will, as soon as he possibly can.

  Hearing Bianca heading to the attic, and Andrew and Anthony going out to the garage and call their mother, Rush heads up the steps to help in the “search and rescue.”

  Until now, the house has been packed with guests coming and going, murmurs of conversation, the creaking of floorboards, opening and shutting of doors, and the sound of food being prepared in the kitchen. Rush had felt like an anthropologist at a study of a “normal, functioning family.” Now, with no hubbub, he can he
ar the wind whistling outside, and it makes him shiver. With the quiet it’s too much like normal; he expects to find Jeff around every corner—making a sandwich, reading the newspaper, or doing the books for his business.

  He passes through the kitchen and peers into the dining room. Bianca’s textbooks and notepads are scattered all over the table.

  “Deanna, Deanna, where are you?” he whispers in a sing-song to himself.

  The wind outside howls, but over the sound he hears magic for the first time since the viewing. He glances out the sliding doors to the porch. It’s nearly ten in the morning, though the sky's so dark it looks like evening. Despite the oppressive clouds, he finds himself drawn outside. As soon as he steps out into the frigid air he sees Deanna, wrapped up in a knitted afghan, sitting at the edge of the porch, staring out at a patch of brown grass where the snow has blown away.

  Deanna looks back at him but doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are red but dry, like she’s just gotten done crying. New cracks have opened up in her pale lips. Rush doesn’t know what to say, but he made a promise, so he goes and sits down next to her. It’s not as windy as he expected, the tree branches high up are blowing, but down here, close to the ground, it’s only cold.

  Before he’s said a word, Deanna says, “Would you sing again?”

  He’s in a hopeless, frustrated funk and doesn’t feel like singing. He would like to go back to his job, just to escape that expectation of Jeff being around every corner, but he doesn’t think he can go back. He thinks Larson wants him out here to resolve his issues … Lewis couldn’t have picked a worse time to inflict her particular curse.

  He sighs. And remembers Jeff wants him here, and he’s supposed to take care of Deanna, so he hums, and as he does, he hears magic in the air. It reminds him of his old life far away from the dreary Chicago ‘burbs, of the Iron Wood trees of Jotunheim, of Sleipnir the Eight-Legged Horse that slips through time, of the rainbow light of the World Gates, and of skyscraper lights winking in the Chicago night sky reflecting on the lake. The hum of magic around him becomes louder, and then he has to sing. Before he knows it, he is singing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. The magic has picked it, and Rush must sing it until the very end. He’d never consciously memorized the words, but magic has a strange relationship to time and memory. He remembers every single line, and guesses there can’t be a better song to express the sadness of death and a broken dick.

  When he stops, he is out of breath and dazed. The world gradually comes into focus and he realizes that several neighbors have stepped out onto their porches. He hears the porch creak and knows Bianca, Andrew, and Anthony have snuck up behind them. He gulps. That will not do. He is a Navy SEAL, and he always knows what’s going on in his surroundings. Magic made him forget to be alert.

  He hears the tinkling of bells, and beside him Deanna whispers, “The unicorn.”

  Rush looks out at the snow and sees the unicorn, stepping onto the snowless patch, its horn casting its own light. The beast looks directly at him, snorts, and paws the ground with a delicate pearlescent hoof. Rush should be scared, but he isn’t. He hears whispers and a few cries from the neighbors. The unicorn shakes its head like it’s disappointed, turns, and vanishes.

  For several long minutes no one says anything. The neighbors gradually go into their homes.

  Rush looks up and finds Deanna, Andrew, Anthony, and Bianca all staring at him.

  “That’s the second time it’s come to hear you sing,” says Deanna.

  “How did you do that?” Anthony whispers.

  It was magic, his own magic, Rush realizes. Rush doesn’t want to say that; he’s not sure why. He still hears the magic echoing in the trees though, and he knows what to say instead. Putting his hand to his chest, he flutters his eyelashes. “So you know I’m a virgin, right?”

  That earns him snorts all around from the Singers. Rolling their eyes, Andrew and Anthony head back into the house, and Rush looks out at the patch of grass. He summoned the unicorn with a song. He had hummed right before he saw Jeff’s ghost, and the singsong command he’d given to his mother had made her back down. Is his magical talent somehow related to music? That would be … kind of hippy-ish, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it.

  “Thank you for that, Rush,” Deanna says, and he notices she’s been crying again. Well, Helheim, he can’t do anything right. She gets up and goes back into the house, and he sits there motionless, feeling like he is missing something. At last, standing, he finds Bianca still outside with him.

  She shakes her head. “Sometimes you seem all right … but you’re such an asshole.” With that, she goes back into the house, leaving Rush bewildered.

  He huffs, and his breath hangs in the air in front of him. Women, and their passive aggressive bullshit. With a few quick strides he’s through the door. He hears Deanna in her bedroom, and Anthony and Andrew downstairs. Grabbing a handful of mixed nuts from the counter, he heads into the dining room and finds Bianca already bent over her books. “When have I ever been an asshole to you?” He demands, stuffing some nuts into his mouth.

  Not raising her head, Bianca says, “I dunno, the time you told me I should forget about college and become a stripper instead?”

  Rush plops down at the head of the table. “Oh, come on! I was joking!” Jeff would have killed him if he’d been serious. Had Jeff heard that joke? Probably not. It was a little off-color for him. Rush frowns, a little angry with himself and he’s not sure why.

  Looking up at him, Bianca's lip curls. “Or how about when I told you I was going to go pre-med and you told me smart girls don’t become doctors, they marry doctors.”

  Rush picks up one of her books, Fundamentals of Pathology, and flips through it; it looks like a cure for insomnia. “Well, it would be a lot easier.”

  Bianca thumps her pen on the table top. “First of all, I want to be a doctor. I like studying this …” She waves a hand at her books. “It’s been my dream since I was ten years old.”

  Rush opens his mouth to speak, and then snaps it shut again, something tickling the back of his brain. Without thinking he hums a few notes … and then he remembers … Wasn’t that the age one of her friends had gotten leukemia? Rush had been sleeping on the couch downstairs by that time. He thinks he remembers her crying about it … and then her mom had that bout with breast cancer a few years ago. “Do you want to be an oncologist?” he asks. The hum of magic fades, but he knows he’s right.

  Bianca’s lips part. “How did you know?” Before Rush can respond, she scowls. “I want to be an oncologist, not marry one,” she says defensively, and goes back to pretending to ignore him.

  Rush slumps back in his chair. He’d always been a little angry at Jeff’s kids because none of them went into the service. Anthony and Andrew more so than Bianca, because they’re guys. But they’d all gotten partial help at in-state schools, and not followed in their father’s footsteps. He’d thought they’d chosen the path of least resistance; college in his mind just standardizes mediocrity, but it occurs to him that Bianca is fighting her own little war.

  Downstairs, there is a knock at the front door. He hears Anthony go to it, and then hears the kid thumping up the steps. Anthony pokes his head into the dining room and whispers, “Rush, it’s your mom!”

  Bianca’s eyes get wide, and she looks at Rush with the first bit of concern he’s seen since … well … it’s been a while. “She’s never come here,” she whispers.

  “We can tell her you’re not here,” Anthony suggests.

  Rush stares at the table. It is the first time she’s come to this house. Even before he’d moved into the lower level when he turned eighteen, he’d crashed here more than once. She’d never noticed he was gone, or never cared. When he’d moved out, she’d made a fuss, told him he’d be back, but she’d never hunted him down.

  He puts his head in his hands, and then sits up straight. He’s a Navy SEAL, and he’s afraid of his mother? His lips get tight. And maybe she’s changed.
He’s changed since he was a teenager.

  “Nah, I should talk to her,” he says. Standing and heading down the stairs, he notices that his heart is beating fast, and he feels a weird dread that’s obviously out of place. A moment later, he opens the door. His mother’s back is to him and she’s waving to a beat-up Nissan Sentra that’s parked down the street, its motor still on.

  “Mom?” Rush says.

  She turns around and smiles at him. It’s weird seeing how skeletal she’s become.

  “Hi …” she says. She wraps her arms around herself. “May I come in?”

  Rush’s eyes slide from side to side, some old habit, but he nods and lets her in the door, his heart beating faster.

  His mother stops in the foyer and looks back at him as he closes the door to the chilly Illinois winter.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she says.

  Rush shoves his hands into his pockets. He can’t quite bring himself to say the same, so he just nods.

  His mother clutches her hands together.“You know they sent someone, when you disappeared, to the house to say you were dead,” she whispers.

  Rush looks up at her, shocked. Had he put her as next of kin on his paperwork?

  “But I didn’t believe them,” she says, smiling. Her lips are really thin. When did she get so old?

  Rush’s mom wipes her eyes. “I am so proud of you … joining the Navy and serving your country. I just … I know I wasn’t the best mother, and I’m so sorry.”

  Rush’s mouth drops open. She has never, in her life, ever apologized that he can remember and it feels like … the sun coming out? Redemption maybe, for him, although it shouldn’t. He was just a kid … an active kid, who got in trouble, knocked things over, bounced balls against the wall. She was a witch and a bitch when he was growing up, but it had been hard for her, hadn’t it? Being left by his dad, and having to take care of him.