FAE-ted

by Linda Palmer

  “Just look at all this crap.” Anna rolled her eyes.

  Nate winced and ducked, clearly waiting for me to pop him one.

  But I didn’t. He’d gotten the message loud and clear from a four-year-old mouth. “Little faeries don’t say ‘crap’, okay?”

  “Nate says it.”

  “Does he look like a faerie?”

  Anna doubled over, giggling. “No, sil-ly.”

  I zoned in on the non-faerie in question, who looked properly chagrined. “Did you pre-treat her stuff?”

  “I’ll do it now.” He dug the leotard back out of the washer.

  I took the garment and scanned the contents of a nearby shelf for what I needed. Finding a spray bottle of prewash that would do, I misted the leotard and handed it back. Nate once again crammed it in the washer. He added detergent and pushed a button. The tub came to life.

  “This area is perfect for stormy days like today,” I said to Anna, trying to lay the groundwork in case she and Nate had to run for cover. “Wish I had a basement. We have to hide in the hall closet if the tornado alarm goes off.”

  “Tornado?” Her big brown eyes got even bigger.

  Now I winced. Me and my big mouth. “Oh, don’t worry about that. This is the safest room in the whole wide world.”

  Nate chimed in. “And I’d never let anything happen to you, remember?”

  Anna clearly had doubts.

  “Would you feel better if Leeloo stayed with us for a while?” he asked.

  She quickly nodded.

  Nate’s eyes met mine. “Guess I should’ve checked to see if you’re free today before I mentioned that.”

  “No problem. I am free.”

  “So what’s this going to cost me?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.

  I had to drag my gaze away to get Anna’s attention. “A kiss.”

  “Do it, Nate! Do it.”

  My face flamed. “Not from him, sil-ly.” I said it just like she did. “From you.”

  “We’ll both give you one, won’t we, Anna?” When she nodded eagerly, Nate picked her up. I got a simultaneous kiss on each cheek. Was it just my imagination that his landed on the corner of my mouth?

  Flustered, but with a genuine smile, I looked from one to the other. “You two are all paid up. Let me call my Mom, and then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do today.” I dug my cell from my back pocket and headed upstairs, pausing at the top to make the call. When she didn’t answer, I tried Dad.

  “Yo.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “In the garage without her cell. Will I do?”

  “Yes. Just wanted you guys to know I’m at Nate Marshall’s. I’ll be here all day and hopefully tonight since the weather is so iffy. Our other option is a house trailer.”

  “You’re sleeping over with a boy?”

  “Haven’t you and Mom talked today?”

  “Yeah, and I know this Nate is the love of your life, so mind your Ps and Qs, Tink. I’m not ready to be a grandpop.”

  “Dad-ad!” I glanced up in alarm, hoping that Nate and Anna hadn’t heard his warning. With cell phones, you never knew. “I’ll be home by the time Josh and Mick get there, okay? Okay!” I ended the call. “I’m good.”

  Nate had a question. “Josh and Mick?”

  “My big brothers. They share an apartment in Fayetteville, where they both go to college. So what do you two want to do?”

  “I need to teetee.”

  “Again?” said Nate.

  Now I popped him. “Let’s try out this bathroom.”

  When we emerged shortly after, Nate was ready for us. “Show Leeloo your room.”

  “Oh all right.” Could Anna have sounded less thrilled?

  Determined to get to the bottom of her aversion to the house, I smiled enthusiastically. “Can’t wait to see it.”

  Anna turned and began dragging herself up the stairs. I looked to Nate for an explanation, but a shake of his head told me he didn’t have one. Her demeanor became more of a mystery when we got to her room. I know my mouth fell open as I took in the sight of her full canopy bed; her dresser, bookshelf, and nightstands; the petite table and chairs in the corner. She also had the biggest toy box I’d ever seen, and there was still space for more. That, I decided, was the problem. A little girl could feel awfully small in a bedroom this big, especially if her old room was one-fourth the size of it.

  “I’m so jealous,” I said, kneeling to her level. “You must be a very special faerie to have a room this wonderful.”

  “Oh she’s special, all right,” said Nate.

  Anna just shrugged. “Want to see Nate’s?”

  I stood. “Sure.”

  “Give me five minutes.” He darted out the door and loped down the hall.

  Anna giggled, a sound I’d grown to love. “Nate’s very messy.”

  “Guys are like that.” While we waited, I walked around the room, pointing out things I loved in hopes Anna would think differently about them.

  “All clear!”

  Nate’s shout drew us to his bedroom. I peeked inside and was pleased to see that it looked very lived in and downright cozy. Sports posters lined the walls, none of them hung straight. I saw dusty trophies on the built-in corner shelves, CDs on a stereo, and DVDs piled high beside a flat screen television. The closet doors stood slightly ajar thanks to a sneaker, and inside it I glimpsed a pile of clothing he’d probably just tossed in there. That made me smile. “Nice.”

  “Thanks. Let’s get out of here.”

  “But you didn’t show her your cars, sil-ly,” said Anna, heading to his dresser.

  “Anna!” But he was too late. She’d opened the drawer to reveal at least a zillion Matchbox vehicles.

  I looked Nate in the eye. “When did you stop playing with these?”

  He hesitated and then came clean. “I might’ve bought one last week.”

  Anna’s quick nod confirmed it.

  I burst into laughter. “And you made fun of me?”

  “They’re collectable.” He cleared his throat. “Er, want to see the master bedroom?”

  “Why not?” I grabbed Anna’s wrist and followed Nate down the hall to a bedroom big enough to have a sitting area in it. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” Turning on his heel, Nate abruptly left. We followed more slowly since I wanted take in everything before we completely abandoned the area. I wondered briefly how Ginny would feel moving into a bedroom an ex-wife had decorated. But that was none of my business…

  Seeing that Nate had skipped all other upstairs rooms and was already going down the steps, Anna and I hurried to catch up. He ended the tour downstairs by pointing to his left, “Kitchen,” his right, “Living area,” and then behind him, “Den and office.” Nate glanced at his watch. “Want to watch ‘The Wiggles’? They’re on.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Placing a hand on his stepsister’s carrot-top head, he guided her into the den, which I realized was the man cave I’d been looking for. While he dealt with the TV, she dragged a small beanbag chair to the middle of the room and plopped down in it. She appeared completely relaxed, and I knew why. This space felt friendly.

  I sat on one end of a corduroy couch and was pleasantly surprised when Nate sat in the middle of it, instead of at the other end, moments after. He propped his heels on the coffee table in front of us, but though tempted, I didn’t do the same. I mean, I had on shoes, as did he. Mom would’ve killed us both if we’d done that at my house.

  “You graduate in May, right?” he said, breaking an awkward silence.

  “Wrong. I graduated December eighteenth.”

  “So you’re one of those.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Straight A student who pre-planned her entire high school experience so she could graduate early.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing if you scheduled in time for fun.”

  “You haven’t noticed how well rounded I am?” I winced, instantly
regretting my thoughtless choice of words.

  Predictably, Nate grinned, but he didn’t leer or anything. “Oh I’ve noticed, all right. I am a guy.”

  Flustered, I changed topics. “I assume you got a scholarship of some kind. What college?”

  “U-ler,” he said, local slang for UALR. “You?”

  “Same.”

  He turned his head to look at me. “No shit?”

  “Shhh!”

  “Sorry. What’s your major?”

  “Early childhood development. Yours?”

  “So far? Engineering, though I’m thinking about a change to anthropology.”

  Not knowing what to say to that, I tried to watch TV. The antics of the Wiggles held my attention for maybe two seconds before the miniature weather map in the lower left corner completely distracted me. “We really need to stay here tonight.”

  Nate’s gaze followed mine. “I know, but how do we do it without a meltdown?”

  “I have an idea—something I saw in a movie that I think might work.”

  “What movie?”

  “A chick flick you’ve never seen.”

  He smiled. “So what’s the idea?”

  “Tell you in a minute.”

  Though he clearly waited to hear more, I just shook my head. I needed to plan this thing out before I proposed it. So that’s what I did, outwardly engrossed in the TV but inwardly constructing a haven for the sweetest little girl in the world. When the credits began to roll, I sat up, pretty sure my idea was doable. Only then did I realize that Nate had draped his arm across the back of the couch at some point and wrapped one of my blond curls around his finger, resulting in a collapse of my makeshift hairdo. “Ow!”

  Nate jerked his hand back, evidently as surprised as I was. Eyeing my hair, which lay in a golden tumble around my shoulders, he cleared his throat. “Who’s ready for lunch?”

  I automatically checked the clock and saw that it was only eleven.

  “We just ate, sil-ly.” Anna hopped up to join us, rolling her eyes—a boys-are-so-ridiculous expression that made me laugh out loud.

  “The first thing to learn about big brothers is that they’re always hungry,” said Nate, getting up. He stretched lazily, his eyes once again on me. “Are you a good cook?”

  “Daughter of a chef, here,” I said. “But it’s going to cost you.”

  Nate and Anna exchanged a look. He pretended to be disgusted. “Another kiss, I guess.”

  “I’ll go first.” Leaning close, Anna kissed me right on the mouth, something I hadn’t expected. “Your turn, Nate!”

  Her brother arched an eyebrow, but didn’t argue before he pulled me to my feet and brushed his lips over mine. My heart slammed into my ribcage and then went nuts. Certain my face matched my red T-shirt, I stepped back. “Thank you, Faerie Rose and Prince Nate. I’ll definitely cook, but not until we’re all hungry.”

  Nate groaned.

  I ignored him. “So let’s do something else first. I have a great idea.”

  Anna’s eyes lit up. “What?”

  “If we’re going to spend the night in your room, and I think we should, I want to build us a tent.” Leaving her no chance to argue, I charged out of the den to the stairs. Before I got to the second floor, I heard them pounding up the steps behind me. I ran straight to Anna’s new room, pausing at the door so they could catch up. “I’m going to need…” I rattled off a list that included five bed sheets, nylon rope, and safety pins, all of which I felt sure Nate would have.

  He did. And when he returned with them, we got to work stringing the rope from her closet’s double doorknobs to her bedposts, about six feet away, which meant they crossed one spot in the room twice. Then Anna helped Nate hang four sheets to form the sides of our tent, I secured everything with the pins. One last draped sheet made our roof; a couple of folded quilts that looked handmade, our floor. When we finished, we had a shelter that came up almost to my waist and was just big enough for two.

  Anna crawled inside at once. “I need pillows.”

  Nate got the ones off her bed and tossed them inside.

  “And a blanket.”

  He found one of those, too.

  “And Sparky.”

  “Where is he?” Nate looked all around for the stuffed toy.

  I didn’t see it either. “In the car?”

  Anna stuck her head out of the tent and pointed to her big brother. “Go get him.”

  “What are you supposed to say?” Thoughtlessly, I repeated something I heard moms tell their little ones every day. I glanced out Anna’s window, noting how hard it was pouring.

  “Pleeeease?”

  Nate turned toward the door; I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Can he wait until the rain slacks off?”

  She rolled her brown eyes. “I guess. Will you and him come in?”

  Though I had my doubts that we’d all fit, I dropped to all fours and crawled inside. Nate did the same.

  “Lay down.” Bossy Anna patted the quilt on either side of her. So we all settled in.

  “We need art,” I said, my eyes on the bare walls of our tent. “Can you draw a picture?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And we need a light,” said Nate. “I’ve got just the thing.” He sat up, which raised our roof, and wiggled out feet first, which hopelessly wrinkled the quilts.

  As I patted them back into place, I heard him leave the room. “I think I’ll like sleeping in here.”

  “Me, too,” said my petite companion, just the words I’d hoped to hear. Something else I heard was thunder, but the house muffled the sound, and Anna didn’t seem to notice.

  Nate brought us a plastic camp lantern that ran on batteries. Thrilled, Anna played with it for a bit while we lay beside her, watching. I didn’t mind. I loved lying in that tent, which really was quite cozy. Didn’t hurt that Nate was there, too, just one small child away. And more than once I thought of pinching myself just in case this whole thing was one of those wildest dreams of mine. “What kind of picture are you going to draw?”

  “A rainbow with a butterfly,” Anna said. “Will you draw something?”

  “Of course.”

  She turned to Nate. “Will you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Let’s do it now,” I said to give my back a break. A long night sleeping on the floor would be a killer, even with two quilts beneath us. I decided to wait until the last minute to get in the tent again.

  I left it first. Anna followed, and then Nate. She ran down the stairs ahead of us and straight to the kitchen bar. I saw that there was already a box of Crayons on it and a couple of coloring books.

  “Do you want to color a picture in these or draw something brand new?”

  “Brand new.” Ann started to climb on a bar stool. Nate grabbed it to avoid a tip over. Once she was settled, he left us for a couple of seconds and then came back with paper and pencils. By then, I’d sat on the stool next to Anna. He moved one of the two remaining to the other side of the bar so he could sit facing us.

  After thinking for a moment, I sketched a castle complete with turrets and a moat. Anna went to work on her rainbow and butterfly; Nate drew a sports car of some kind. I realized he was quite good at drawing.

  When she began to color the first picture, he hopped off his stool. “I’m fae-mished. If you really aren’t going to cook for a while, I need a snack.”

  I hid my smile with difficulty. “You do realize there’s a frozen foods section at the grocery store stocked full of stuff ready to nuke and gnaw, right?”

  “Hey! I prepaid you to cook.”

  “And I will…” I checked out the time on the oven clock. “At noon. That’s thirty minutes.”

  “Don’t do me any fae-vors.”

  Though he grumbled like an old man, I could see that peek-a-boo dimple. “Believe me, I won’t. But we can’t have you fae-nting from hunger.”

  Anna looked up, glancing from me to him before she sighed heavily and went back to coloring. My eyes met Na
te’s. We both laughed at her expression. With Nate’s heel tapping out the seconds, I waited the whole thirty minutes before I slid off my stool. “So what are you two hungry for?”

  “Grilled cheese sandwiches,” said Nate.

  “Red soup,” said Anna.

  Nate grinned at my puzzled expression. “That’s tomato in child speak.”

  “Ah. How about both?” After all, nothing went together better than soup and sandwiches. I walked over to the refrigerator and scanned the contents, quickly locating cheese and butter. Spotting a loaf of bread on the counter, I got that, too. By then, Nate had a big can of soup, one of many I could see on a shelf. That told me Anna ate there often. Or maybe they’d just stocked up for later.

  I found a saucepan and a skillet, both of which I set on the smooth-top stove. Waving Nate out of the way, I got busy. In no time, the kitchen smelled of melted butter and toasted bread. The savory steam from the soup added another layer of aroma, and before I finished up, my mouth began to water.

  We ate at the counter instead of on the dining room table, something I suspected happened a lot. I noticed that Anna’s eyelids drooped and wondered if she normally took naps. Keeping to a schedule could be hard when circumstances changed or the babysitters were unaware of it. I doubted that we’d ever get her down for one.

  After lunch, Nate and I sat on the couch in the living room at Anna’s request. We watched a small TV that sat on a shelf in a stately walnut credenza, but not for long before she jumped up and began playing piano for us, a jarring, noisy concerto that assaulted our ears. When she finally ended it and took a bow, Nate and I applauded in relief. Then she surprised us by taking off her shoes and socks and stretching out on the couch between us, her head in my lap and her legs across Nate’s. In no time, she slept.

  I still waited a bit before I risked speaking. “How long ago did you and Missy split?”

  “June.”

  “Did you lose interest? You two dated a long time.”

  Nate turned his head to look me in the eye. “Are you suggesting I’m fickle?”