by Mary Blayney
Panic gripped me and I careened, directionless, around the concourse, calling for my parents, at first discreetly, then more loudly, until finally a stooped man with a worn hat and yellowing shirt put a clawlike hand on my shoulder and asked if he could help me.
I’ll never forget my terror as I looked up into his jaundiced eyes. He smelled like alcohol and stale cigarettes.
“What do they drive, honey?” he asked, when I’d choked out that I couldn’t find my parents.
He took me out to the parking lot, where, after a panicked twenty minutes or so, my parents pulled up in their Volvo, full of apologies and excuses. They’d only gotten about ten minutes away, it was true, but by the time they’d turned around and been able to get back to the racetrack it had been easily half an hour, more than enough time for me to feel abandoned forever.
I realized that I felt the same way now. Cooper and Hazel and even Roger had gotten in a car with Prin at the wheel, and they were all driving off without me. The place that I loved was being threatened. Someday it wouldn’t be even remotely mine – it would be theirs, hers. After that it wouldn’t be long before they forgot about me altogether. I would have nothing. I would be nothing.
“Weeping into her pillow. Have you ever seen anything more pathetic?”
I closed my eyes tight, nostrils searching for the smell of cigarette smoke.
“Please tell me you’re crying ‘cause you blew your accounting test or something, girly.”
“I am not crying.” I rolled over onto my side, opened one eye only to come face to face – far closer than I’d anticipated – with the tiny unshaven face of my tormenting fairy. I gasped and sat up quickly. “Jesus.”
He cackled. “Hah! I get that all the time. Apparently I’m a dead ringer. But you can call me Gary.”
“Gary!” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, remembering too late the super black mascara of Prin’s I’d used that morning. “You told me before it was Jerry. And before that it was Harry.”
He cupped his cheek with one hand and tilted his head. “Oh my dear, are you feeling all right? Is your memory going too?”
I exhaled exasperation, breathing it right back in again with his next words.
“Or is it that the only name you can recall is Cooper?”
“What do you want?” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, moving toward the bathroom. My eyes felt gritty. Had I fallen asleep when I’d laid down? Was this all another dream?
Harry/Jerry/Gary followed me.
“I want to help you, Kimmy. That’s what I’m here for. To help you get the man of your dreams.”
“Really?” My voice could not have been less enthusiastic.
“Yes, really. Good lord, girl, do you know how many people would kill to have a fairy come help them get what they want? In fact…” He leaned close, eyes darting behind him as if people might be listening in. “There was this one guy? Wanted my help? But I was helping this other dude, see. I said maybe I could help him once I helped the first guy. So he up and kills the first guy!” He made a slicing motion across his throat with one finger. “Off with his head! Actually off with their heads ‘cause he killed the guy’s brother too. ‘Course this was the middle ages. And the dude was pret–ty high up in the royal rankings. Can’t get no higher, if you know what I mean. And the princes in the tower … well … I did what I could…”
I looked at him in the mirror, able to do so only because he’d climbed up on the edge of the claw–foot tub behind me, holding on to the shower curtain with one hand for balance. “Are you talking about Richard the Third?”
His eyes went round and he made a loud shtttt! sound, glancing over his shoulder and holding one finger up to his lips. “The walls have ears.”
I looked at my face in the mirror, noted the dark circles under my eyes. I looked a little like a woman in a mental institution. “Doesn’t sound like you were able to help the first guy much, if you got him killed.”
He nodded solemnly. “It was a dark day in my career.”
“And now you’re here to help me with my love life. Great.” I wet one fingertip and rubbed it under my right eye. The darkness disappeared. Mascara smudge – that was a relief.
“Well, you know…” He shrugged expansively. “Some people might call it a demotion, but me, I consider it more a lateral move.”
“Sure. Right. I get that.” What would it take to make this – this brain disturbance of mine disappear? I paused. Maybe I had a tumor. Maybe he was the product of a malignant growth. That would explain a lot.
He brightened. “Yeah. I mean, life, death, murder, war, successions of kings, nations colliding, some people are into all that stuff. But me? I’m all about the heart.” He placed both of his hands over his heart, his body wilting and eyes going limpid.
Then he lost his balance and his arms windmilled until he grabbed hold of the shower curtain again.
I went back to cleaning my face. “Uh–huh. So what is it you want?”
He rolled his eyes.
“To help me, yeah. I mean right now, at this moment.”
“Oh!” He straightened. “To tell you that it’s a lovely night and a walk in the Vineyard Inn’s storied gardens might be a good idea about now.”
“I have homework.”
“Bull hockey. You just had a test. Nobody gives homework after a test.”
“I give it to myself.”
“That figures.” His tone was so sour I turned to look at him. “I’m telling you, girly, go take a walk in the garden. I’m here to help you with your love life, so you should listen to me when I tell you these things. So go take a freaking walk in the garden, why dontcha? Get it?”
I hated myself for it, but my heart sped up. As nonchalantly as I could I brushed my hair, then opened the medicine cabinet to get out my blush. “Okay, okay,” I said, putting as much irritation into it as I could muster.
He looked pleased. “Good girl. And maybe just a touch of that lip gloss stuff there.” He waved a finger.
Deciding it was futile to try to trick a fairy that I myself had made up, I put the lipgloss on and turned to him. “Okay?”
He leered. “SAH–mokin’!”
I stalked out of the bathroom, heading straight for the garden as quickly as I could without rushing. Because I knew without a doubt that Coop would be there.
Chapter Five
I had to stop myself from running – okay, trotting – to the garden behind the inn. The area was a favorite of our guests’ and was consistently one of the highest rated amenities of the Vineyard Inn. The paths wound around large leafy, ferny plants and palm trees, almost like a maze, with beauty, privacy and intrigue as its guiding principles.
Of course I knew it like the back of my hand, having skipped through its verdant passages ever since I was able to walk. And it was all I could do not to skip now. I knew where Cooper would be. He had a favorite spot near one of the koi ponds that was rarely found by the non–repeat guests.
The path was lined with very fine dirt, making footsteps silent, and with dusk falling the tiny solar lanterns along the way flickered on as I moved, bathing the space in a golden glow. I tucked my hair behind my ears as I walked – a nervous habit – then untucked it since my hairdresser said it ruined the shape of the cut. I schooled my breath to a casual speed and tried not to look as if I were eagerly searching out the man of my dreams.
I was not a very good actress.
Which was proven once again when, as my eyes were trained down the path ahead of me, desperately trying leave my head and turn a corner well before I arrived at it, Roger seemed to drop in front of me out of nowhere.
I gasped.
“Jeez louise, Kim. What is with you lately?”
“Where the hell did you come from?”
His eyes widened sarcastically. I almost never swore, and my tone – sharpened by irritation – was uncharacteristically harsh.
“Sor–ry.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t
mean to arrive unannounced. Let me just back away from the royal presence.” He bowed and took a step backwards.
I exhaled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You just startled me. I didn’t see you coming.”
“I don’t know why not. I saw you headed this way and damn near had to machete my way through the underbrush to get to you. It’s so common to use the paths, don’t you think?”
I pushed my hands through my hair, completely messing up the bob, I realized belatedly. “So what did you want?”
“What, are you in a hurry or something?” His eyebrow cocked ironically.
“No. Just walking. But standing here talking to you, I’m not walking, so what do you need?”
“I’ll walk with you.”
I cursed my luck – and my stupidity. “I – I kind of wanted to be alone. You know?” This was not only untrue, but embarrassing. Like I believed I had deep thoughts to consider, or brainy problems to solve.
“Uh–huh. Okay.” Roger looked down at his feet and scuffled one shoe in the dirt. The moment stretched long and my impatience grew taut. Just as I was about to snap he said, “Did you know the Christians during some time or other of persecution used to do this?” He made an arc in the dirt with the toe of his running shoe. “To identify one another? One would make this mark, then the other would do another one, connected to it, and … see how it makes a kind of fish shape? That’s where all those fish things on cars come from. They represent Christianity.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Thank you, Reverend Roger. That was fascinating. Anything else you want to tell me?”
For a second I thought I was imagining things because Roger – acerbic, condescending Roger – actually blushed.
“What’s going on?” I asked. My mind sprang to problems. Had he done something awful or simply embarrassing? Neither seemed likely. The awful was possible, but I’d never seen Roger embarrassed. He’d once sent an entire rack of plates crashing to the floor in the bar and simply rolled his eyes. Another time he’d spilled six glasses of wine from a tray down his shirt in the middle of the dining room and without missing a beat called out that drinks were on him.
I couldn’t even conceive of what might make Roger look … chagrined, as he did now.
He scrubbed the side of his face with his palm. “See, it’s like this. I…well…”
Something tickled my calf and I reached down to scratch it, marveling at Roger’s discomposure. But when my hand reached my knee I touched something hairy and glanced down to see Gary poking me from behind a fern. (He was greasy, just as I’d suspected.)
I screeched at the contact.
Roger jumped back, bumping off the base of a palm tree and helplessly clutching at ferns as he went down.
“Holy shit!” His words were muffled as branches slapped him in the face. “What was that?”
Gary sprinted off down the path.
“You saw him?” I twisted back to Roger, caught my toe on a root and nearly landed on top of him.
“Jesus, O’Shea, if you want me that bad we can just go to my room.” He spread his arms wide and his grin was the work of the devil.
I pushed myself up to my knees, ignoring the leaves in my hair and the dirt on my palms. “Did you see him?” I asked again, grabbing his arm to pull him up too.
“Yeah, jay–sus, that was one helluva big cat.” He grunted up to sitting, then reached for my hair, which I could see from the corner of my eye sported a rather large fern frond.
I batted his hand away. “A cat?”
“Kim?”
My heart lurched. It was Cooper.
I made my way out of the greenery on hands and knees, and pushed myself up to find Cooper standing in the middle of the path.
“I heard you cry out—” His eyes jerked toward Roger, crawling out of the leaves behind me. His hair was disheveled and his shirt untucked.
The expression on Cooper’s face went from concerned to shocked, and I realized all of a sudden what this looked like. He thought Roger and I had been doing … something … in the bushes. Like we had sneaked off into the garden for a tryst.
Cooper backed up, tripping over the same root I had but not going down. “Sorry. Sorry to interrupt. Never mind. I just thought — you all go back to what you were…” He gestured toward the brush, his expression going baffled.
As would mine if I’d found anybody trying to, uh, do what he thought we were doing in a public garden.
“No.” I reached a hand out to him, whether to push him or grab him I wasn’t sure. “Coop, come on! We tripped!”
It sounded ridiculous.
“There was this —” What? Fairy? “This huge cat, or something, that took me by surprise, and I must have jerked into Roger, who fell backwards, then I fell, uh, after him…” My voice trailed off. It sounded like the biggest fattest lie ever told.
“It’s okay.” Cooper shook his head, raucous curls bouncing.
“See? That root, right there.” I pointed. “I tripped on that.”
“It’s none of my business.”
My cheeks were so hot my eyes could have melted. I was going to kill Gary. There was no law against killing a hallucination, so I had no reason not to. And so many reasons I should.
“Cooper.” I was practically begging. I spun toward Roger. “Tell him.”
Roger shrugged. I wanted to kick him. He probably thought it made him look good. “Sure. A cat.”
“Don’t do that.” I pointed at him. “Don’t be that guy.”
He tried to look offended. “What?”
I faced Cooper again. “Coop—”
“Kim.” His voice was firm. “It’s okay. Really. Surprising.” A swift smile. “But okay.”
I wanted to cry. There didn’t seem to be any believable way to explain it to him. He turned and walked away as I stood there, wordless.
The silence stretched long. I’d almost forgotten about Roger when his voice emerged, unconcerned, behind me.
“Uh, anyway.”
I turned a smoldering look on him.
His brows rose nearly to his hairline, but his smirk gave him away. He knew exactly what he’d done.
“Okay, okay,” he nodded, “that was awkward, I admit it.”
“It wasn’t awkward, it was mortifying. Why didn’t you back me up? Do you want him to think we’re stupid enough to be rolling around in the bushes where any guest could trip over us? He could fire us, you know.”
He scoffed. “Right.”
“He could. Or what if it had been Hazel, huh? Would you have explained yourself then?”
My voice had risen uncontrollably.
A soft cough issued from behind me. I spun.
Prin’s eyes were wide, the fingers of one hand over her lips. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. Please, excuse me.”
She began to turn, but Roger stepped forward. “Did you need something?”
I recognized the look, that one that guys get when a woman who’s patently out of their league pays the slightest bit of attention to them. His gaze zeroed in on her as if she were a submarine and he a torpedo.
Prin tilted her head, and glanced sheepishly at me. “I was looking for Kim, actually, since she was so helpful to me before. But I truly don’t want to bother you. It can wait.”
“It’s okay.” I shot Roger a look he missed completely and stepped in front of him. “We’re done here. What do you need?”
She put one hand unconsciously on the back of her hip. “It’s my back still. I know it sounds crazy, but I think another mattress would do the trick.”
“You want a third mattress?” I hadn’t meant to sound incredulous but her blush told me I’d been rude.
She began, “I—”
“I’ll get one for you.” Roger stepped in front of me, practically throwing an elbow to do so. “We can snag one from one of the older rooms that haven’t been redone yet.”
I stepped out from Roger’s shadow. “Maybe you just want a different room,” I suggested.
“Oh no.” Prin’s eyes widened. “I love my room. It’s the perfect space. I believe it has a special feeling, something the Chinese would call feng shui. I think of it simply as harmony – the balance of energies, of light, temperature, situation, environment. All of these things work together and affect the body at a subconscious level. When the body is not balanced it affects the mind, unsettling one’s mental clarity and negatively stimulating the emotions.”
Roger’s mouth hung open. “Uh. So that’s a ‘no’ on the new room?”
She furrowed her brow. “It’s not something that’s easy to put into words, but trust me, you can feel it.”
“I’ll come feel it,” Roger offered.
I poked him. “That’s a ‘no’ on the new room.”
He stepped toward her again. “Okay, another mattress it is. No problem. Want me to come now?”
Her chin dropped coyly and her eyes came up, on her mouth a small smile. “If you wouldn’t mind. I think I need a good night’s sleep tonight. It’s been an exciting week, but a bit stressful too. And we are only days away from the competition now.”
“Oh sure. Yeah. I know. Not a problem.” He held up both hands, one out to each side. “I’ll do it right now.”
She lay a hand on his upper arm, her hand small on his beefy bicep. “That would be so chivalrous of you. Truly.”
I’m not sure Roger knew what the word ‘chivalrous’ even meant, but he flushed to the roots of his hair and began to babble. “Oh, it’s nothing. Piece of cake. I move stuff all the time. It’s just a queen bed, too, so I can do it myself.” He started off down the path. After a few strides he noticed Prin was not with him and turned back.
“I’ll just wait here with Kim, if that’s all right.” The way she said it, it wasn’t a question. She was stating what she was going to do in such a way that nobody would think they had a right to object. I wished I could do that.
“Oh. Uh. Okay.” He shuffled back, looking uncertain, as if she might change her mind. But she just stood there smiling.
Once he was gone she turned to me. “I do apologize,” she said in a more intimate tone, the kind good friends use with each other. It warmed me, her familiarity with me, even if I did not yet feel it myself for her. “I’ve interrupted you two now again. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’ve always had the worst timing.”