Divine's Emporium

by Michelle L. Levigne

  "We'd be a lot safer, once Carpelli and his friends realize I gave them the wrong book," Troy mused, thinking aloud.

  "Who the heck cares about the goons?" Meggie said. "I want to meet Maurice and Angela."

  Later, Troy finally slipped into his own bed for the first time in what was a week, in one viewpoint, but was only twenty hours since he got out of it, in another. His body ached, not just from the bouncing and tumbling he had done, but from exhaustion and tension. He was tired enough that his vision was fuzzy by the time he'd made sure Diane was comfortable in the guest room. But now he had showered and crawled between the sheets, he couldn't sleep. Maybe he found the bed too soft, after six nights of sleeping on the ground. Maybe it was too quiet in his room, without the sounds of nightlife, insects and night-hunting animals and the trickling of the stream that ran down the mountain.

  No, he realized after nearly half an hour of trying to will himself to sleep. It was Diane. Or rather, her absence. The last six nights, he had been able to open his eyes, look across the campfire, and see her curled up on her side, nestled among the moss and ferns, sleeping peacefully, trusting him and the fire to keep her safe.

  He couldn't sleep without her within arm's reach. The only way he was going to get any sleep from now on was to convince Diane to spend the rest of her life with him.

  Troy knew he was rushing things, but a peace and certainty settled in his chest and relaxed his limbs, once he made that decision. It might take a while to convince Diane that they were meant to be together, but he thought he had a good chance. After all, she had been the one to recommend he and Meggie move to Neighborlee, and had even mentioned three houses for sale, all on her street. That had to mean something, didn't it?

  That settled, Troy closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  * * *

  Divine Dreams

  March turned into April and crept toward May. Maurice enjoyed the warmer weather and spent more time outdoors. He enjoyed story time on Saturday afternoons, when Holly took her groups of children for long walks, into the park or just to sit in the gazebo in the town square. His favorite seat was on the shoulder of whichever lucky boy or girl got to sit right in front of Holly. For whole minutes at a time, Maurice could make himself believe she was looking at him when she told her stories.

  Diane and Troy had held onto their magic. They came into Divine's regularly and always made a point of talking to Maurice. He felt sorry for Troy's sister, Meggie, who wanted to meet him and see him, but couldn't. She seemed to think that moving to Neighborlee and spending several hours almost every day at Divine's would let her soak up just as much magic as her brother.

  He talked over the problem of Meggie with Holly the next time he visited her dreams. She suggested that he do something for Meggie the next time she visited the shop, to prove to her that he was there. Maurice kissed her, proclaiming her a genius. The next moment he found himself staggering back from the Wishing Ball, feeling like he had been yanked halfway out of his skin by a hook caught in his wings. In the Wishing Ball, he saw Holly sitting up in her bed, eyes wide, panting, with the fingertips of both hands pressed to her lips.

  Then he realized that he had kissed her.

  "Yeah, sorry, kid," he whispered, pressing his hands on the Wishing Ball, as if he could cup her face between his hands and look into her eyes. "I guess that was kind of a shock, huh? Stunner for me, too. But it was kind of nice, you think? I could go for it again."

  Maurice dared to hope that underneath her fingertips, Holly smiled.

  The next day, when Meggie came into the shop, he had a pen and a piece of paper waiting when she stepped up to the counter to buy some candy. There was no one in the shop but Diane, and he waited until her back was turned before picking up the pen and bracing it against his shoulder.

  Meggie stared, her eyes getting wider with every letter he scrawled on the paper, until he thought they would devour her face.

  Hi, Meggie. I'm Maurice. I'm real. I can hear you--you just can't see or hear me. But we can still be friends.

  Diane turned back to the counter with the bag of assorted candy. "Oh, Maurice, I'm glad you thought of that." She winked at Meggie. "I was really afraid you were going to start accusing us of playing a nasty trick on you."

  "Wow!" Meggie sounded as if she had been holding her breath.

  "Open the bag, Di," Maurice said. He waited until she complied, then leaped up, fluttering his wings, and swooped down to scoop a sour cherry chew from the top. He nearly dropped it when Meggie took a step back, staring at the round red candy--just floating in mid-air, from her perspective. Then giddy triumph swept over him when she held out her hand and let him put it down on her palm.

  "Thanks, Maurice. It's nice to finally meet you," she said.

  Angela was pleased, when he told her about it later that evening when they were both curled up in her quarters. That mattered more to Maurice than anything else, except maybe the pleased flush on Meggie's face and the shine in her eyes.

  * * * *

  That night, Maurice caught up with Holly on a long, tree-lined field extending behind a cluster of old-fashioned buildings. It was summertime, idealistic and golden and green, the grass and trees lush with life. About two dozen assorted children played across the field, kicking balls and jumping rope and playing catch. At the far end was an old playground with the requisite weather-beaten swings, teeter-totter, jungle gym and slide.

  Holly walked the perimeter of the field, pensively watching the children, dragging her fingers along the chain link fence.

  Maurice tried to judge her mood. She didn't look happy or sad, just thoughtful. He wondered if she'd had a bad day at work. Shaking his head at his foolishness--how could he cheer her up if he wasn't walking with her?--he hurried to catch up with her.

  "Wow, lots of kids. So, where are we tonight?" He clasped his hands behind himself as he fell in step with her.

  "This is the Neighborlee Children's Home, where I grew up." Holly turned her head to watch the children as they gathered around two boys with a big, dusty red ball. Maurice guessed they were organizing to play kickball.

  "Looks like a nice place. The kids seem happy enough."

  "It was the greatest place in the world." Her smile widened, and some of that pensiveness faded from her eyes. "Mrs. Sylvestri made sure we all knew we were loved, no matter what."

  "So, what are we doing here? What's on the agenda for tonight?" He shivered when Holly just shrugged and kept walking. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" Something turned hot and knotted inside him at the thought that someone might have hurt her. He cursed his shrunken size and shrunken magical powers, because it meant he couldn't do much of anything to protect or avenge her.

  Holly stopped short and turned to face him, so quickly it startled him.

  "That's what's wrong."

  "What'd I do? What'd I say?" He could feel his wings fluttering in panic, and Maurice knew they didn't come with him into these dreams.

  Maybe he needed a vacation?

  A moment later, he rejected that thought. He didn't want to go on a vacation unless he could take Holly with him.

  "How come I don't remember you, I don't remember any of this, when I wake up? I used to be able to remember all my dreams, but ever since you came into them, I don't remember anything during the day. Why?" Her voice wavered a little on the last word.

  "Maybe..." He sighed. If she didn't remember anything, then it wouldn't hurt to be totally honest, would it? "I think it's to protect you. So you don't go crazy, maybe."

  "I think I'm already going crazy. Remembering this, looking forward to it, could get me through the really boring, awful, dreary days." She managed a crooked smile.

  That just twisted the knife in Maurice's gut a little deeper. "This? Dreaming about the orphanage where you grew up?"

  "No! This. Even if it's just a dream, knowing that somewhere, someone handsome and good and clever thinks I'm... Calls me 'sweetheart.' That could get me through a lot of really low spo
ts." She turned toward the fence, but not before Maurice saw the tears well up in the corners of her eyes.

  "You don't need a fake like me to--"

  "I know none of this is real." She shook her head, "But I wish it was. I wish you were real."

  "What if I was?" The words caught in Maurice's throat. He caught her by her shoulders and turned her away from the fence. Holding her still, he gently brushed the tears off her cheeks.

  "Wishes never come true for me," she whispered, visibly fighting to look into his eyes.

  He wanted to pulverize whoever had made Holly believe that magic and happily ever after couldn't happen for her.

  "What if I was real? Would you wish for me to be real?" He bent his head again and kissed the tears off her lips, slowly. When he raised his head, the blush had left Holly's cheeks and she stared at him, her eyes dazed.

  "If I could have just one wish... I'd wish for you. If I could," she whispered.

  "Take a chance, sweetheart."

  When she opened her mouth to speak again, he pressed a fingertip to her lips. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he nudged her to keep walking along the fence. He ached, and that pain was mixed with a shock that made him feel breathless and stole his balance. He felt as if he might step sideways and fall off the surface of the planet.

  What had happened to him? When had Holly changed from a playmate and an interesting diversion to someone whose pain could tear at his heart?

  They walked in silence. The warm breeze and the sounds of birds and the wind in the leaves and the laughter of the children washed over them. Finally, when he felt the tension completely seep out of her body and saw the normal color had returned to her face, he said, "Tell me about growing up here."

  Before the alarm clock yanked Holly out of her dreams, she had showed him around the orphanage and all her favorite places, and even showed him some silly incidents in her childhood. She had laughed.

  Maurice was relieved to know that when Holly woke up, she wouldn't be in pain. At least while she was awake. He seriously considered not going back to her dreams, to ensure she wouldn't think about him and wonder and hurt.

  Two things stopped him. He knew he made Holly feel appreciated and wanted. And his insides clutched at the thought of never adventuring through her dreams again.

  * * * *

  The morning of spring equinox, Maurice thought ahead and was prepared, with full-size clothes and a blanket and pillow spread out on the couch in Angela's furniture room. He went to bed early and set the alarm to wake him up at midnight, so he could enjoy the whole twenty-four hours at full size. The alarm clock rang but he didn't hear it. He decided to stick with the theory that changing his size was an exhausting process and he had slept through the ringing of the alarm clock. He woke to the sound of Diane coming into the shop around eight a.m. Maurice came into the main room with his shirt hanging open and fussing with his belt, and barefoot, as she emerged from behind the counter with the textbooks books she had left there last night.

  Diane screamed and flung a book at him.

  Maurice shouted and ducked into the next room.

  Angela's laughter stopped both of them in their tracks.

  "Who is--" Diane's mouth dropped open and she shook her head twice. "Maurice? What happened?"

  "Maurice gets to be full-size four times a year, and today is his day," Angela said. "I'm sorry. I didn't think to warn you."

  "No, you didn't." She blushed when Maurice handed her the book she'd thrown at him. "Sorry. You scared me half to death."

  "You're a good shot." He decided to be flattered at the way Diane kept looking him over, while visibly trying not to seem to be checking him out.

  During breakfast alone with Angela, Maurice offered to run her errands in town.

  "This is your day. It's lovely of you to offer, but don't waste it on chores."

  "It won't be wasting. I want to see the town, all the places people have been talking about. Maybe stop in and see how Eden II feels while my magic is down. Lanie has a comedy gig tonight, doesn't she? Maybe we can go see her perform."

  "That sounds good." Angela nodded slowly, studying him.

  "What? Did old Asmondius make my nose longer than normal? Is my skin turning purple?" he joked.

  "Hmm? No. I'm just trying to reconcile this new, sedate you, to the person who first landed here. At the very least, I'd expect you to borrow a car and go live the high life on your one day of freedom."

  "This is my home. I get to hear what everybody's doing all the time, but I don't get to see the town and be there with everybody, know what I mean?" Maurice shrugged. "The high life is overrated. And anyway, I don't have a driver's license."

  "And when did that ever stop you before?"

  "True." He met her gaze with a look of calculated innocence, holding it until Angela started laughing, then he joined her.

  Meggie was at Divine's when Maurice returned with Angela's groceries. The schools were off for spring break. She had been spending her afternoons in the shop, keeping company with Diane while Troy was tied up with business. Despite Diane's family's influence, there was still some fallout from the blackmail plot that had first brought Troy into the shop, and keeping Meggie safe was a priority.

  Maurice heard the two girls giggling together when he came in the front door. He decided to go upstairs with his bags before dropping in on them, maybe joining their fun.

  "Where's Angela?" he asked, when he came back downstairs. He hadn't seen her anywhere upstairs.

  "Jane needed some advice, so she went over to the spa for a while," Diane said. "Do you need her for something?"

  "Nope. Just wondering where she was." Maurice stepped up to the counter, where Meggie sat on a high stool, in front of a notebook computer. "What kind of trouble are you two getting into?"

  Meggie gave Diane a questioning look. For a moment he wondered what was wrong with her. Then he realized he was the problem. He knew her, but she didn't know him. Not face-to-face, able to look at him and hear him speak.

  He held out his hand. "Hi, Meggie. I'm Maurice."

  Meggie said hi, shook, and let go of his hand.

  Maurice's mouth dropped open and his brain froze short of a smart remark. Diane snorted, muffling a giggle. She laughed aloud when Meggie frowned at her.

  Maurice wished he had some magic, to prove himself to her. Just to be able to levitate something. He reached over to the cherry sours jar at the end of the counter, plucked one out, and tossed it to Meggie.

  She caught it automatically.

  "Maurice," he said again.

  "No." Her expression of hope mixed with doubt brought more giggles from Diane.

  "In the flesh, for today only. Kind of." He snagged another stool with his foot, dragged it over, and sat down.

  "Yeah, I felt the same way when I saw him walk out," Diane said. "It's kind of like Brigadoon."

  "Oh." Meggie's confused expression faded.

  "Briga-what?" Maurice said.

  They were still laughing and explaining the play about the village that appeared and disappeared when Angela came back.

  She seemed pleased to see him entertaining Meggie. He realized Angela was more worried about the girl than she had let on to anyone. When Meggie had to go to the library to do some research, Maurice offered to walk with her.

  "I can check up on Holly while I'm there," he said. "And I'll bring Meggie right back and make sure no evil biker dudes sweep her off her feet, or some muscle-bound sports hero doesn't try to corrupt her on the way." He assumed a melodramatic pose and spoke in a stage whisper.

  Angela's approving smile and nod, and Meggie's laughter were all the reward he needed.

  Maurice was able to clown to cover up a sudden dropping sensation that came purely from guilt. How could he have forgotten about Holly? Why hadn't he run over to the library first thing, to see her?

  Fear? What if he introduced himself to Holly, and she didn't remember him from Angela's Christmas party? What if she didn't ca
re that he was supposedly back in town?

  "So..." Once they were out of sight of the shop and heading toward the center of town, Meggie turned around and skipped backwards a few steps. "Nobody has ever really told me why you're here, and why you're not full size all the time."

  "You're looking at a genuine parolee. Angela is my probation officer."

  "For what?" The disbelief on her pretty face warmed him.

  Maurice entertained her on the remainder of their fifteen-minute walk with the basic outline of the prank that landed him in front of the Fae Disciplinary Council and brought him to Divine's Emporium. He was amused to find how little time it took to give her enough details to understand his background.

  He caught a glimpse of a dark car slowing as it passed them, just before they crossed the street to the library. Maurice instinctively reached inside himself to gather his magic, just in case the cloud of threat still hanging over Meggie solidified. He stumbled when there was...nothing.

  He needed magic. What good was he to Meggie if someone came after her? He thought he was used to the limits of his exile, until now.

  "Watch yourself, kiddo." He hooked his arm through hers as they stepped into the street.

  Meggie laughed and tugged her arm free. "I'm not going to fall on my face,"

  "It's not you I'm worried about." He yanked her close to his side. No way in the world was he going to admit he felt less than useless.

  Sure, he could do Akido and Tai Kwan Do and knew all the ins and outs of hand-to-hand combat and barehanded self-defense. That was in controlled circumstances. That was sparring with friends who wouldn't grind his face into the cement. And he'd always had magic, before, if some damage did get done to him.

  "Do you see somebody?" She looked all around as they stepped into the deeply shaded porch of the big old house that held Neighborlee's library.

  "Not yet. Sorry," he said, when his over-zealous assistance up the steps made her stumble.

  "You're nervous. Why?"

  "Honey, just how calm would you expect James Bond to be if you took away all of Q's gizmos and blindfolded him?"