by Kim Deister
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw our numbers dwindling. Taylor and Mark edged quietly out of the room and, seconds later, I heard the front door close behind them. Tom and my dad escaped, too, sliding out the back door with the dogs. Lucky bastards.
Mac and Mom bought none of it and they quickly made sure we all knew it, scoffing at my grandmother’s attempts to explain. They had many theories, none of which came close to the truth. Finn was a con man and I was the desperate fool who fell for it. Finn was my drug dealer and I was on a slippery slope to Hell. I had a psychotic break and Finn took advantage of it. Each theory was more ridiculous than the last.
They spent a considerable amount of time talking about me as if I wasn't there. The sheer number of times they called me an idiot was both astonishing and depressing. It was enlightening and not in a good way. At least I knew what they thought of me, my intelligence, and the way I lived my life. It was weak as a silver lining, but it was all I had. I had to wonder, if they talked like this to my face, what did they say behind my back?
The smack they talked about me was bad, but it was nothing compared to how they talked about Finn, Grandma Fiona's admonishment long forgotten. Neither one of them seemed to give a damn that he sat at the same table. I felt my own Irish temper begin to catch fire and Finn squeezed my hand under the table and whispered into my ear.
“Calm down, a ghrá. They love you and worry about you. It’s okay.”
“The hell it is,” I muttered. The man was not only a pirate, but also a saint. Too bad I wasn't. If I were him, I would have pulled out my sword and gone into full pirate-mode on them. Because their behavior wasn't okay. The words I whispered in reply were neither ladylike nor politically correct, but they befit my darkening mood.
The two of them were on such a rampage that I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise. Half the time, I didn’t even know who they were yelling at… me, Grandma, or Finn. Every time I opened my mouth, they talked right over me. Rapid-fire questions came at me without even giving me the chance to answer. Why they bothered asking anything was beyond me. They obviously didn't want to hear what any of us had to say. They answered their own questions with as much judgment and disdain as they could manage.
I wasn’t stupid or crazy, despite what they obviously thought. I knew the entire situation was borderline insane. It was impossible not to recognize that. Goddess knew, I questioned it myself, over and over and over again. I knew it would be hard for them to swallow. And it shouldn’t have been a big leap that they would lose their shit, but somehow it still was. Maybe I lied to myself, but I never thought they would be this out of control. They were vicious and the extraordinary stress I was living with didn’t help.
I jumped to my feet and slammed my fist on the table, hitting it so hard that it felt like my hand had exploded.
“ENOUGH!”
Silence fell like a wet blanket over the kitchen. My mother and Mac stared at me like I’d lost my mind, but Grandma Fi didn’t even bother to hide her smile.
“I’m sorry, but what the hell is wrong with you two? Have you forgotten that you are sitting at the same damn table with the very people you’re talking such shit about? In what reality is that okay?”
I leveled my best “mom” glare at both of them. I’d learned this particular withering look from the best of them and I’d mastered it. Both of them shrank back a little, looking ashamed, but not as ashamed they should.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. My voice was deceptively even when I spoke again. “Look, I get that this is a hot mess. I also get that it sounds completely insane. Believe me, I get it. It sounded nuts to me, too. Hell, it still does. But, hot mess or not, it doesn’t give either one of you the right to be so damn judgmental and rude. I’ve taken more than enough condescending crap from you two since Luke and I broke up. I’ve put up with the snide comments and the nonstop interference. More than I should have. But this? This is over the top, even for the two of you. Enough is enough.
“I can’t argue the weird factor, so I won’t even try. I don’t blame you for having a hard time accepting it. But I’m done having you talk to me and about me like I’m total idiot. I’m not, whether you can see it or not. And I’m sure as hell done listening to you two talk trash about Finn. The man has done nothing but be more polite to you than either of you deserve. And the way you’ve talked to Grandma Fi? You should both be ashamed.” I stopped, needing a breath. “The bottom line is that you both have a choice to make, regardless of whether you believe us or not. You can choose to accept it for what it is and treat us both like human beings or you can choose not to. In that case, we will go our separate ways. At least until one or both of you decide to have some respect. Your choice.”
I looked across the table at them, waiting for someone to say something, but neither of them did. They just sat there, looking like fish out of water with their mouths hanging open. I had nothing left to say, so I tugged Finn’s hand and walked around the table to drop a kiss on my grandmother’s cheek.
“I love you, Grandma” I said, “but it’s time to go. Thank you for trying. I'm sorry for leaving like this.”
She nodded and gave me a hug and kiss before I walked out of the kitchen without another word. I heard Finn behind me saying goodbye to my grandmother, but I didn’t wait for him. I needed to get away before things got any uglier than they already were.
As mad as I was at them, I was pissed at myself, too. It ticked me off that I even cared. After a year of dealing with them and Operation Marry Cassidy, it shouldn’t have been a huge surprise, yet it still stung. They were my family and it shouldn’t be like this. I was still fuming when I reached the front hall and sat on the stairs to wait for Finn. When a voice came from behind me, I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Auntie Cass?”
“Holy hell, sweetling! You scared the crap out of me!”
I looked over my shoulder to see Kyra standing a couple of steps above me. In her arms, she carried a plush Hello Kitty wearing a proper French beret. She reached over my shoulder and pushed it into my chest as she apologized.
“Sorry.” She moved down to sit next to me on the stairs. I put my arm around her and she nuzzled into my side. I bent my head to hers and buried my nose in her hair, inhaling the sweet smell of her coconut shampoo. God, I love this girl. She made even the worst moments bearable. She almost made me want a kid of my own. Her voice was muffled when she spoke again.
“I just wanted to tell you I love you and I love Finn, even if he isn’t a frog anymore. I believe you. Mom and Grandma Mo are wrong about you and wrong about him.”
My eyes filled with tears. Her words meant everything. I scooped her into my lap and buried my face in her hair.
“I love you, too, sugar, although I should probably be admonishing you for your obvious eavesdropping,” I mumbled. “But I won’t, if only because you’re on my side. And thank you for believing me, sweetling. I know how weird it is.”
“Yeah, it’s weird, but I know you wouldn’t lie about it. Mom and Grandma should know that, too. But you know them. They don’t have a lot of imagination sometimes. And you know how they are with Great-Grandma.”
Ouch. I know she meant to comfort me, and she did, but the truth was I had lied. I lied to everyone, even if it was mostly by omission. I lied to her and she knew it.
“That’s not quite true, sweetheart, and we both know it. I lied to you. I told you your frog was fine, that he was happy in his terrarium. I’m sorry for that, sugar. I just didn’t want to tell you what really happened over the phone. And I didn’t want to ruin your vacation by suddenly having no frog.”
At first, she said nothing, only squeezed me tighter. “But, Auntie Cass, you didn’t do that to be mean. You did it because you love me. I know that. Besides, you went out and bought another frog just to keep me happy. And he is my frog, so, technically, you still didn’t lie. So, how can I be mad at you?”
Stunned, I stared down at her cute little pi
xie face. She was wiser than her years, her face full of nothing but love. Most kids would be throwing a fit, but not Kyra.
“You’re pretty wise for a kid, you know that?” I smiled down at her, hoping she knew just how much I loved her.
“I am, aren’t I?” Her voice was smug and so was her face. I poked her in the ribs and we both dissolved into giggles.
We were still hugging when Finn came down the hall. Kyra let go of me and climbed out of my lap, jumping over the last few stairs to land in front of him. Without a word, she threw her arms around his waist and gave him a hug, too. He caught my eye over her head and smiled while hugging her back. She tugged him down until his face was at her level. She put a hand on each of his cheeks and informed him that she was on our side before kissing him on the nose. Without another word, she snuck back upstairs.
My mood was a little bit lighter as I walked out the door with Finn and went home.
Finn did his best to cheer me up after the debacle at Grandma Fiona's. He had no qualms about using his Irish charm to distract me, but I still spent most of my evening fuming. A night of sleep didn't help either. If anything, I woke up even more pissed off than I had been. I just couldn’t get over how mean they’d been. They had every right to be skeptical, but there was no excuse for that level of viciousness and rudeness. Not just to me, but to Finn and Grandma Fiona, too.
I needed a break from the drama. Mid-morning found Finn sprawled on the couch in my studio with Luna curled up on his shoulder while he binge-watched Sons of Anarchy. I turned on the angriest music I had and turned myself to work. Goddess knows, I had enough to do.
Stacks of boxes covered the table under the window, packed and ready to go. Between my designs and Finn's, this collection was the biggest I'd ever done. It was also the best and there were a lot of pieces that I almost hoped wouldn’t sell so I could keep them for myself. I’d made a pair of ear cuffs, delicate silver vines that wrapped the cartilage from the top curve of the ear to the lobe and I wanted them. My other favorite was a pair of dangling earrings that were the result of too many failures to count. A total pain in the ass, but worth it in the end. They were tiny toadstools with red tops, woven from ridiculously tiny beads. They looked like miniature versions of the ceramic ones in Finn’s terrarium.
I still had more to finish before the show. If Siofra didn't get in the way. I pushed the thought away before I let it derail me. I had more than enough to do without worrying about something I couldn’t do a damn thing about. I pulled a beading tray in front of me and got to work. It held the last piece in my Finn collection, the makings of a bracelet that I had been working on for the last few days. It was one of those projects that you had to have time for and time had been in short supply lately.
The main part of the cuff was done and it was beautiful. Gorgeous, shimmering green and yellow-gold beads in a complicated woven stitch. I picked up a needle and began the tedious process of weaving a tiny rope of jet black beads. The rope would be embedded in the center of the cuff, running along its length and mimicking the stripe that had run along Finn’s froggy back. My favorite part was the clasp I’d found buried in my stash. A tiny silver frog mounted on a heavy magnet. When it closed, the magnet tucked into the center of a lily pad, making it look like the frog was sitting on it. It was perfect.
Weaving the rope of tiny beads took every bit of my concentration, taking me out of this world and into my own, which was exactly what I needed. When I finally put down my needle and stood up to stretch, I realized that Finn and Luna had deserted me at some point during my creative fugue. But I wasn’t alone. Someone sat on my couch, a giant ivy plant set into a terra cotta frog planter obscuring their face. Stuck jauntily into it was a Jolly Roger flag. I suspected my sister was behind the plant. The woman burned hot when she was pissed, but her anger usually flamed out quickly. And when she wanted to be, Mac was very creative with her apologies and that made it very hard to hold a grudge.
I picked up my phone and shut off the music, leaning against the counter with my arms folder over my chest. As soon as the music died away, Mac’s eyes appeared over the top of the plant. I looked at her without a word as she stood, grunting a little under the weight of the plant. She found an empty spot on the worktable and set it down before speaking.
“Hi, Cass.”
“MacKenzie,” I answered, my voice a little less than welcoming and warm. “Are you here to give me more shit? Or maybe Finn?” I wasn’t helping the situation with my antagonizing tone, but I seemed to be suffering from some inherent inability to shut my mouth. To her credit, Mac didn’t bite.
“Nope. I came over to grovel,” she replied matter-of-factly, looking me straight in the eyes. “Obviously you’re still pissed.”
Way to grasp the obvious, Mac. “Did you think I wouldn’t be? Sorry to disappoint you. Again.”
Mac’s gaze dropped to the plant on the table in front of her, her face flushed. She sighed. “No, but I hoped. You've got every right to be pissed. Tom made sure I knew that I acted like an obnoxious, arrogant ass. He also pointed out that this isn’t a new thing when it comes to you. Is he right? Is that really how I am with you?” She looked vaguely surprised as she met my eyes. My sister tended to see some things through a very focused lens.
I raised an eyebrow in response. I had spent a lifetime fighting with her about it and I didn’t feel like going down that road right now. But my non-answer seemed to be answer enough.
Her face fell. “Look, Cass. I was a bitch yesterday… again. To all three of you. And just so you know, Grandma was my first stop on this morning’s Grovel Tour. I brought Jameson’s and chocolate.”
“She’s gotten enough whiskey lately to open her own pub,” I muttered. “I’m gonna guess she accepted your apology and fed you.” That was how it worked with Grandma. All conflicts solved with food.
“She did, but not until after she delivered one hell of a blistering lecture."
“You deserved it.”
“Fair enough,” she nodded. “If it makes you feel better, I felt like an even bigger ass by the time she was done. She accused me of being condescending to her and to you. Am I really that bad?" Her eyes were sad as she waited for my answer and a part of me wanted to assure her that she wasn’t. And she wasn’t evil; she just had a bad case of Big Sisteritis.
“You can be. It’s not all the time, but you have your moments.”
"Well, shit. I guess I need to change some things,” she said resignedly.
"You think?" Words were just that… words, and I’d heard it before. Only time would tell if this time was different.
She scrunched her nose, but she nodded. "I know. And before you ask… I already apologized profusely to Finn.”
“Did you bribe him, too?”
“I did. I’m not above bribery,” she admitted. “Doughnuts and blueberry coffee. Grandma’s suggestion. I bribed Luna, too.”
“Seriously? You thought my dog needed bribing?”
“I thought I should hedge my bets. She got a rawhide, which she is happily devouring on Finn’s lap.”
The man was a sucker for my dog. Even I wouldn’t let her anywhere near me when there was a chew toy involved. She was a sweet dog and I loved her, but she could rival a Saint Bernard with the drool. The pirate was a brave man.
“So, now I’m here to grovel for your forgiveness. Even if I am a complete ass, I love you and I’m sorry. This whole pirate-frog thing is a little hard to believe, but that didn't give me the right to be such an obnoxious bitch. So, I’m sorry.”
I wanted to be mad, but I didn’t have the energy. So, I stood up, moved back from the table, and opened up my arms. With a little squeal, Mac bounced around it and threw herself at me. Unfortunately, she ran into me way too hard and we fell to the floor in a tangle, hitting it hard. I shrieked when I felt the hardwood floor slam into my tailbone. Pain radiated through my back, but the clunk of my head against the floor was even worse. Both of us lay groaning on the floor. Too much love
was a bad thing,
We must have hit the floor harder than I thought because Finn came running into the studio with Luna at his heels. He helped us up one at a time, steadying us on our feet. When he asked if we were okay, I could hear the laughter in his voice, no matter how valiantly he tried to hide it. But the laughter faded when my sister lowered her hand from her forehead. Blood covered her skin and she took one look at it before her knees buckled beneath her. In true pirate style, Finn caught her and swept her into his arms before heading for the stairs. Woozy or not, MacKenzie wasn’t so out of it that she couldn’t appreciate the moment.
“I'm starting to understand your thing for muscled, bad boys, little sister! Carry me, pirate!” Her voice was full of amusement as she thrusted her fist into the air triumphantly. She’d clearly lost her mind; maybe she’d hit her head even harder than I had.
I rolled my eyes as he raced down the stairs with her. By the time I caught up, she sat on the kitchen counter while Finn bandaged her head. Whatever angst she felt toward him seemed to be long gone. She cooed at him like a school girl and ate up the attention. The woman was pathetic. If I’d know all it took for her to chill out was a head injury, I’d have given her one years ago.
Except for my mom, who could hold a grudge like a champ, the conversation at Grandma Fiona’s turned out to be a good thing. No more secrets and that meant a huge weight off my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized just how much it was weighing me down until it wasn’t anymore. But as nice as that was, the fairy issue seemed to be stepping up. It wasn’t just my sanity at stake, but my life, too. That was a reality check.
This morning found Finn and I sucking down coffee in Grandma Fiona’s kitchen for our daily witchy lesson. Judging by the ingredients laid out on the island, she was very much of the “cottage witch” variety. A Mason jar of coffee grounds, a stick of butter on a crystal plate, a bowl lined with a coffee filter. Next to all of that was a pad of paper, a fountain pen, and a length of raffia ribbon. I had no idea how these seemingly random things were supposed to protect me from a fairy with an attitude problem.