“Take her to see the Spice Girls,” she replied.
He grinned. “Yeah.”
Maurelle and Nissa watched as the woman took her time taking in his attractive grin before she pulled in a visibly large breath.
She let it out saying, “I . . . think I’d like a beer.”
Maurelle fought another fairy dust burst of joy.
His smile widened. “Good.”
“So, um . . . what’s your name?” she asked, and he shook his head, but he did it reaching out to wrap his fingers around hers again.
“Oh no,” he began. “We don’t want to jump ahead. That’s for our wait in line.”
It was then, eyes sparkling once more, head tipped back, the nerves were gone as was the concern, and so was the cautious in her happy.
He drew her closer then he drew her toward the end of the line at the concession stand.
And Maurelle and Nissa blipped out of the arena smack dab into the front of a Gathering.
Oh boy.
Maurelle looked over her shoulder.
A lot of fairies had been called to order.
Oh boy.
“Maurelle,” Aelfric, Elder of the Elders, the head honcho, the big cheese, the one who was sitting on the biggest throne made of twisting branches and twigs with leaves growing from them, plus flowers, with the occasional spread of attractive moss, droned loudly.
“It worked out!” Maurelle exclaimed in her defense.
“It could have been a disaster,” Suzette, the Elder Crone sitting at Aelfric’s side, snapped.
“It wasn’t,” Maurelle pointed out.
“And what would become of that young woman if he’d watched her make her circle and then shut down?” Aelfric asked.
“She survived a car crash. She’s out with a friend at a Spice Girls concert,” Maurelle retorted. “She’d pick herself up and get on with it.”
“You can’t know that,” Orla, the Noble Elder, said softly.
She couldn’t.
She still did.
“You’ve been warned. Repeatedly. We really cannot have you continue to—” Aelfric started grandly, clearly about to make a statement, and by the look on his face, not a good one for Maurelle.
So what she was going to do next might buy her Woodlands Duty and an eternity of toadstools, four leaf clovers and gathering dew drops from the bells of lily of the valley (or whatever those Woodlands fairies did).
So what?
Her ambition had reason.
It had purpose.
It was important.
And even if this meant toadstools forever, she was going to have her say.
“And what is love?” Maurelle asked heatedly, interrupting him. “But risk?” she answered herself. “What is risk, without reward? Would you sentence that woman to dash out of every concert and every tavern and every celebration to cry alone, thinking she’ll never find love?”
“She would find love,” Meeric, the Gentle Elder, stated.
“Who? When? Where? How?” Maurelle demanded. She threw out both her arms. “Should she settle for someone she thinks she deserves, who might be less than what she should have, rather than take a risk on finding something that will make her deliriously happy?”
“Just because he’s handsome, you think he’ll make her happy?” Orla queried.
“No,” Maurelle answered firmly, but before she could go on, Suzette spoke up.
To scoff.
“And you can’t possibly know he’ll make her deliriously happy.”
“To answer both of you, he took his sister to a Spice Girls concert when he likes Green Day,” Maurelle reminded them. “I mean, seriously?”
The Elders shifted in their thrones and glanced at each other.
Spice Girls and Green Day did not compute for most males.
Unless they loved their sisters, their daughters . . .
Or their lovers.
“She went to a Spice Girls concert,” Maurelle whispered, her sudden shift in tone getting the full attention of the Elders again, and she felt the same from the gathering of fairies at her back. “She went there thinking she’d listen to an act she enjoys and have a good night with a friend. Then the night turned, she thought in a bad way. She saw a man she found beautiful. A man in a perfect world she’d want to meet. But at fourteen, she’d come to think any chance for a perfect world was stripped from her. She ran from that concert like she undoubtedly shied from hundreds of situations, thinking he was out of her league, taken by a pretty woman she thought was his match, but even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t want her. And she ended up with her hand held in his, about to be bought a drink and asked out on a date. Her perception of the world changed tonight. Her perception of herself changed tonight. He did that. I did that. But mostly, she let herself take the risk, believed in herself, agreed to a drink and took his hand. So she did that. But just to get this point home, it was me who made it so she had a risk to take.”
Suzette stared crossly at her knees. Orla bit her lip to hide her smile and glanced to her side. Meeric sighed.
Aelfric held Maurelle’s eyes.
“This is what I do,” Maurelle told Aelfric. “And frankly, Lord Elder, this is what we all should be doing. We shouldn’t just leave it to the most experienced, the most skilled. There aren’t enough of them and there’s millions of matches to be made. As fairies, we’re bearers of magic, but as students of match, it’s our job to be wielders of love for anyone and everyone, anywhere and everywhere. Or, at least, we should be.”
“Maurelle,” Nissa whispered urgently at her side as Suzette’s head snapped up and all the Elders gazed speculatively at Maurelle.
Maurelle just squared her shoulders and declared, “I don’t make matches. I foster courage. I don’t dispense love. I offer hope. I don’t hope for contentment. I’m a servant to joy. And you can’t have that without risk. I can put them in each other’s paths, but they have to take each other’s hands. And if a puppy is involved or not, it’s always a risk. But the higher the risk, the greater the reward, which in turn means the greater the joy. If they work, she will be forever grateful that he saw her for the beauty she truly is, and he will be forever grateful that she trusted him with that honor.”
“You can’t really argue that,” Orla said quietly.
Maurelle tossed her head and the loose curls around her face bounced. “No, you can’t.”
“Careful,” Nissa whispered at her side. “I think they’re listening to you. Don’t push it.”
She turned to Nissa. “He’s going to make her happy.”
“You really can’t know that,” Nissa replied gently.
“Yes, I can. Because even if he actually doesn’t, he was the catalyst where she let herself try. She talked to him. She put herself out there. She gave it a shot. So maybe if it isn’t him, and I still think it’ll be him, it’ll be someone because she’ll know next time it’s worth it to open yourself up and take a chance at happiness.”
“And you can’t really argue that,” Orla repeated, her voice holding a smile.
“I find you very vexing,” Aelfric stated irately.
Maurelle looked to him, thinking she’d made her point, but more, they’d caught it (finally), so she asked in horror, “Why?”
“Because you’re right.”
“Oh for goodness sake,” Suzette muttered.
Aelfric looked to his right at Suzette. “You can’t disagree.”
“I don’t. Maurelle is vexing.” She blew out a breath before finishing, “Precisely because she’s right,” She then flung an arm before her. “But now what are we telling the other fairies?”
Aelfric peered out over the Gathering.
“I suppose,” he started in a boom, “we’re telling them to take a chance on love.”
Nissa gave a little clap of her hands.
Suzette rolled her eyes.
Orla smiled.
Meeric nodded his head.
Aelfric continued to look severe, but his ey
es were dancing.
Maurelle grinned and let out a fairy burst of twinkle dust for joy.
The End
PS: Maurelle had been right.
He made her happy.
And she returned that favor.
And both of them did the same for their children.
All four of them.
One of whom was named Ginger.
And another was named Billie Joe.
The End???
A short story from the Rock Chick Series
featuring Tod, Stevie and their posse
This short is dedicated to the memory of my beloved Rick Chew.
You are missed.
Extravagantly.
Yahtzee!
“SO WHICH ONE of you is it?” Tod asked as he strolled from the kitchen at the back where he’d entered the house, into Indy and Lee’s living room to see the array of Rock Chicks lounging all over their furniture (and there were so many of them, some of the Chicklets were on the floor).
“Sit down, Tod,” Indy bossed.
Considering the boss aimed his way, which was not acceptable, Tod put a hand on his hip, and for good measure, jutted it and his lip before he bossed right back, “You summoned me here so just lay it on me. Are we planning a kidnapping, a rescue, a robbery, a cover-up, a stealth mission, a makeover or other?”
“We’re planning a wedding,” Ally returned.
Tod’s eyebrows shot up, as did his blood pressure.
“Excuse me?” he demanded and then glared at each unmarried Rock Chick in turn (these would be Stella, Sadie and Ally). “Which one of you didn’t tell me first?”
“Honey bunch, just cool your jets and sit down.” It was Daisy now doing the bossing.
She’d also come up behind him in order to shove him into one of Indy’s armchairs, an armchair that Jet hastily exited so he could aim his ass at it.
This he did.
But he did it speaking.
Or, as was his way, declaring.
“I think it’s been downright ratified that I’m the official Rock Chick Wedding Planner. And we’ve now had four nuptials, so not a single one of you is uninformed about the fact that every second of planning is essential to providing a matrimonial experience à la Tod that is all it can be.” He waved a hand in the air. “Now, I’ll allow that I might not be the first officially unofficial Rock Chick who’s called when one of the Hot Bunch pops the question. And I’ll put out there right now, if it’s during hanky-panky, as Roxie got her proposal, I don’t want to be the first to get the call post said hanky-panky. But I damn well better be the second one, post-coital notwithstanding,” Tod informed the three Chicklets in question (those being Stella, Sadie and Ally).
“Uh . . . you’re not the official wedding planner of this one,” Jules told him.
Tod’s eyes narrowed.
Okay, so the tangerine and chocolate wedding he suggested for Indy and Lee was perhaps a bit avant-garde for this group. You had to have a certain kind of chutzpah to pull off such a feat as tangerine and chocolate. And although these women had that in spades, it wasn’t the right kind to pull off the sublime experience of the boldest tangerine and the richest chocolate.
But he hadn’t missed a step in the planning and execution of Indy’s, Jet’s, Roxie’s and Ava’s weddings (Jules was up the duff when she and Vance got hitched so she went the Justice of the Peace route, to his eternal mortification, he could have killed a shotgun wedding—though he’d never tell her that).
“And tell me precisely how I’ve fallen from grace,” Tod demanded.
“I think that’s my cue.”
This was said in a deep voice that Tod would never admit out loud to anyone, especially the Rock Chicks, most especially the Hot Bunch, and most most especially his loverman, Stevie (though he suspected Stevie knew, as Tod knew it did the same to Stevie), gave him a thrill down his spine every time he heard it.
Lee was walking down the stairs and it wasn’t simply because the bannister was a half wall that hid his hands that Tod didn’t notice he was carrying anything in them.
Yes, Tod’s crazy, annoying, hilarious and beloved Rock Chicklet Indy had won herself a magnificent prize when she landed that man.
However, when his six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, loose-hipped, dark-headed, square-jawed frame rounded the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, Tod saw he was carrying a bottle of champagne in one hand, the stems of two upended flutes in his other.
This was highly unusual and the highly unusual part of it was that he’d need ten times that amount of bubbly and many more flutes for this crowd.
Lee came right to Tod.
“You’ll need these where you’re goin’,” he stated, lifting both hands to indicate what was in them.
“Where am I going?” Tod breathed, staring up into chocolate-brown eyes, because, really, the Hot Bunch wasn’t called the Hot Bunch for nothing.
And Liam Nightingale was the leader of the pack.
Lee stepped away and Tod jumped in his seat when he barked, “Yo!”
Tod tore his eyes away from Indy’s hunk-’a-burnin’ love as the front door opened and he saw Ava’s hunk-’a-burnin’ love, Luke Stark standing there.
Honestly, it was good these girls had caught these men. If they hadn’t, such things as a car exploding in front of their house (Tod and Stevie lived in the opposite side of the duplex to Indy and Lee) ruining Stevie’s carefully hewn legacy of a fabulous front lawn would be unforgiveable.
But if Tod and his Stevie got to partake of this kind of eye candy on a normal basis, there was a lot that was forgivable.
A whole lot.
Luckily they did get to partake on a more than normal basis.
For instance, right now.
Stevie and Tod had had many conversations trying to rate them from hottest to not-as-hottest. These conversations were debated passionately. Hell, just two nights ago they’d settled on Lee, Luke, Hank, Mace, Eddie, Vance, Ren and Hector.
But when Hector’s head could suddenly be seen around the jamb of the front door, Tod instantly shot him to the top spot.
“Get up, Tod. It’s time to get this show on the road,” Lee ordered, and Tod looked back to him (and settled him back on the top spot the instant he did).
“What’s happening?” Tod asked.
“Get up, honey,” Indy coaxed, her voice soft, and at this unusual tone, Tod twisted his neck to look behind him where she was standing.
Her beautiful face was soft too and her eyes were moist.
Tod’s heart started racing.
His Indy girl never cried.
Never.
“What’s happening?” he repeated in a whisper.
“Up, sugar,” Daisy said, now grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the chair she’d pushed him into.
The Rock Chicks surrounded him, all with varying but similar expressions to Indy’s, all with eyes pinned on Tod.
“Will someone—?” he started.
“Just go,” Roxie stated, her hands on him, as were others, pushing him toward the front door.
Hector had disappeared. Luke got out of the way. Lee handed him the champagne and flutes before he was shoved into the small foyer and toward the open doorway.
He saw Vance holding open the security door.
As he walked onto the front porch, he saw Hank and Eddie standing together in the yard, Hector approaching them.
He also saw Ren and Mace standing at the wrought-iron gate at the front of the yard that led to the sidewalk.
And then he stopped seeing Hot Bunch boys.
Instead, he saw the Hot Bunch boy.
His Stevie.
His Stevie standing, facing Tod, in the back of a horse-drawn carriage that had twinkling fairy lights all around its edges.
It was then Tod needed the Rock Chicks in order to stay upright and moving as they guided him to the carriage.
And his Stevie.
They stopped him at the side and Tod gazed up at his partner, hi
s lover, his best friend, his everything-and-had-been-since-time-began-because-they’d-been-destined-for-each-other-since-the-earth-started-rotating-around-the-sun.
“What’s happening?” he whispered to Stevie.
Stevie smiled down at Tod, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.
Then he answered, “Thought we’d take a carriage ride and drink some champagne after you agree to marry me.”
Tod sucked in a breath.
Stevie wasn’t finished.
“That’ll give us the opportunity to have some time alone together before the Rock Chicks’ engagement party which starts in . . .” he looked at his watch then back at Tod, “forty-five minutes.”
Tod was stuck back in time.
When Stevie said no more, he forced out, “Married?”
“We made our vows, we had our commitment ceremony,” Stevie replied gently. “Now we’re just making it official.”
“Married,” Tod whispered reverently, not tearing his eyes from his man.
“Married,” Stevie whispered in return.
Tod kept whispering. “I love you.”
He thought he heard a couple of sniffles and a quiet whimper from around him, and he felt someone come close and take the champagne bottle from him, but all he really heard was Stevie replying, “I love you too, baby. Now get in the carriage so we can get liquored up in preparation for a Rock Chick party.”
Stevie held his hand out to Tod.
Without hesitation, like always, like it would be forever, Tod took it.
Stevie helped his Tod into the carriage.
By the time he sat next to Stevie, the Rock Chicks and Hot Bunch were surrounding the carriage on three sides.
Stevie took the champagne from Indy and started unwrapping the foil from the cork.
Tod leaned into his lover and said under his breath, “I can’t believe you told the Rock Chicks and Hot Bunch you were proposing to me before you proposed to me.”
Loose Ends Page 45