“Well, thank you from us too,” Rose said, giving Danae a look that went entirely ignored. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of missing the occasion,” Garrett said smoothly, opening the door and stepping through in a motion just as fluid as his voice. “Now you ladies have a wonderful rest of the evening. Evelyn, I will see you tomorrow night. Gentlemen,” He nodded to Stefanos and Jay (and Seven, whose eyes remained fixated on his every shiny, fascinating movement). “Keep up the good work.”
“Can’t do any other kind,” Jay affirmed, raising his cat-free hand to shoot him some metalhead horns. “Uh, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“CyborJ, you are more than welcome. Congratulations on your upcoming bliss, to the both of you.” Garrett favored them with a bright smile before turning his attention where it always returned: back to Evelyn. “Oh, and one last thing. This arrived at the Bar shortly after you left. I thought I’d better pass it along.”
He held up a small black envelope between his third and index finger like a playing card. The thick black wax seal—pressed with an ornate ‘T’—in the center was surrounded by fine black lace. Evelyn gingerly took the envelope, careful not to tear the delicate paper.
With that, Garrett Cole exited, quietly shutting the door behind him and extinguishing his sequins’ glittering lights.
Danae stared at the closed door, face gone very pale under her freckles and lingering streaks of dried strawberry icing. “Ev, your boss is a scary, scary man.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Evelyn was still looking after Garrett too, but with a much less suspicious and slightly mistier gaze. “He knows… enough.”
“I can’t believe he’s coming to our wedding.” Jay grinned, looking almost dreamy at the prospect. “It was already gonna be the event of the season, because come on, I mean, us getting married, Evelyn Calliope headlining the reception, but yeah, that just put us into Parole annual holiday territory. Good job inviting him!” He leaned fully back against Stefanos, crossing one ankle over the other.
“I didn’t invite him,” Stefanos frowned, eyes flickering rapidly like an old-fashioned camera’s shutter as he thought, then focusing in on Evelyn. “And he didn’t say he was coming, he just gave us his best wishes. Ev, did you happen to mention something to him?”
“Hm? No, I was waiting for the okay to start shouting it from the rooftops,” Evelyn said absently, still admiring the cake’s masterful craftsmanship. “That’s just Garrett. He hears things. I wouldn’t read too much into it.”
“I hate it when he does that. Brrr…” Danae shivered, then nodded at the black envelope, as if glad for any change in subject, even a slightly ominous-looking one. “Wanna open your… weirdly depressing birthday card?”
“Oh!” Evelyn picked it up, careful not to disturb the fine black lace that surrounded the wax seal, or the delicate paper, just barely more substantial than tissue paper. “I almost missed that. Let’s see…”
Inside was a single piece of folded parchment much thicker than the envelope itself. The heavy paper itself was almost reminiscent of an ancient scroll, or a historical document one might see on display in a museum behind thick glass. It was blank, except for a single word of elegantly scrawled calligraphy in the center, surrounded by a proliferation of elaborate swirls and loops in gleaming black ink: REGARDS.
“Ah.” Evelyn nodded with a smile that looked almost fond, but not at all surprised.
“What?” Danae stood up on her tiptoes to look closer over her shoulder, as if there was something about the single word and ostentatious swirls she was missing. “What ‘ah?’ Who sent that?”
“Who else?”
“Liam.” Rose’s unusually dry tone made them both look up, hold her gaze for a moment, then stare back down at the elaborate penmanship.
“Jeez, this must’ve taken an hour.” Danae shook her head. “Not even ‘happy regards’ or anything.”
“Happy?” Evelyn laughed. “No. That’s not… no.”
“You sure it’s from him?”
She ran a finger down the thin black lace bordering the wax seal. “Yeah.”
“Are you sure your family’s last name isn’t Addams?” Stefanos’ eyes whirred as he focused on the card, briefly flashing green as if scanning it for potential threats. Behind him, Danae shook her head and wandered away, looking as if she’d finally run out of steam.
“Bite your tongue!” Jay scolded through a mouthful of cake; Seven’s eyes followed as he waved his fork for emphasis. “The Addams Family are loving, and supportive, and would never…” He glanced up at Evelyn and swallowed, the easier to backpedal apologetically. “I mean, Evelyn, I’m sure your cousin’s a fine excuse for... I mean, example of a…”
“More cake?”
“Please, before I make any more brilliant observations.”
“You guys just make yourselves at home,” Evelyn said, smiling as Jay offered a forkful of cake to the mechanical cat on his shoulder. To her knowledge, none of Danae’s creations ate actual food, instead absorbing the toxic vapors and carbon monoxide smoke from Parole’s ever-burning fires—but the newly-named Seven gave Jay’s fork a curious sniff anyway. She’d seen many worse human and therapy animal pairs in the time Danae had been setting them up. “I’ll be back in a little bit, just gonna check on someone.”
With that, she moved over to where Danae leaned against the wall, head hanging low and pinching the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb. For a moment neither of them spoke. When Danae looked up and opened her eyes, her smile had the same combination of love and embarrassment she’d worn more today than she could remember. The warm blush in her cheeks joined the other shades of red icing and juice smeared across her cheeks. “Hey, birthday girl.”
“Hey.” Evelyn joined her in wall-leaning, entertaining a brief memory of high school dances.
“I’ll be awake in a second,” Danae mumbled, shutting her eyes again. “Just recharging my batteries real quick.”
“I don’t blame you. Birthday chaos always takes it out of me too. Especially mine.”
“Sorry about...” She slowly tipped her head back against the wall, gesturing to their house and its more-than-passing resemblance to one of Parole’s warzone streets. “Everything.”
“Like I said… wouldn’t be my birthday without a little chaos, would it?”
“Just kinda hoping this year would be different.” Danae didn’t open her eyes or move. She might have been equal parts exhausted and relieved, but exhaustion weighed a lot more heavily. “You deserve it. You deserve perfect.”
“Corny as it sounds, just having family and friends who tried so hard to make it perfect is perfection in itself.” Evelyn gently reached out to nudge Danae’s arm with one elbow, then took her hand. “Even after ten years, you don’t really forget what it feels like to go from not having that to…”
“I know.” Danae opened her eyes halfway, giving Evelyn’s hand a squeeze. “With your… everything you grew up with? That’s why I want every year with us to be different. I just—God, everything you do for Parole, and for us, every day? For one day, that’s what we want to do for you, or at least try to come close. Just give you everything you never got, and should have.”
“That right there?” The sigh Evelyn let out wasn’t exhausted, but maybe more contented than she’d felt all year. “You wanting me to have a perfect day and fighting to make it happen? That’s why it already is.”
“You’re right. It does sound corny.” Danae shook her head, laughing. “But you’re so freaking sweet I don’t even care, and I already sounded way cornier—God! You and Rose both turn me into the biggest sap. Guess that’s how you know I’m in love. Anyway!” She pushed herself away from the wall. “Less mush, more party. Want some cake?”
“Sure do. Bet it’s great even without strawberries.”
“The hell you talking about, Garrett brought a crapton of strawberries, because of course he did…” Danae looked up fully
to see Evelyn smiling back at her. “Oh my gosh. Really? You actually want my smushed, ruined, flytrap-eaten disaster?”
“I want your everything. Besides, you heard Jay. Even without ‘Happy’ or ‘Birth,’ we still got a ‘Day’ left.” She hesitated. “It didn’t actually fall on the floor or anything, did—”
“No!” Danae insisted, as if swearing on her last remaining honor and everything she held dear. “I protected that thing with my life. That’s your birthday present, Ev, one of ‘em. I’d take a bullet for it, I’d battle an army—Serena’s wily, she got the jump on me, that’s all. Never again.” She blew out a breath through loose lips like a horse, messy crumb-filled hair flying. “Outsmarted by a plant. Amazing.”
“Hey, like you said, she’s mean, green, and crafty...” Evelyn reached out and plucked an entire intact berry out of Danae’s hair. “And maybe out for revenge for her little friends.”
“No way.” Danae shook her head, dislodging a couple more leaves. “Now you’re just making stuff up.”
“Seriously, did you ask first? Rose always talks to her plants--not just ‘hi, pretty flowers’ way, but ‘excuse me, I need exactly twelve berries, I apologize for the discomfort, I’ll give you some of the extra good fertilizer later, thank you.’ I dunno if it’s just a Rose thing, making deals with the shrubbery, but... it couldn’t hurt.”
Danae remained silent for a few seconds, staring at the strawberry in Evelyn’s hand. “I will apologize to Serena,” she said, sounding half-dazed, half-enlightened. “And when I am done making amends to a giant plant that hates me, I am going to take a very long nap.”
“Sounds good, you earned it.” Evelyn chuckled. “Oh! But first... Did you say that the cake was only one of my birthday presents? If I wasn’t supposed to hear that, don’t worry. I have a very convincing ‘joyful surprise’ face.”
“I know,” Danae said as a slow, devilish smile spread across her face. “I’ve seen it. And don’t worry. Part two comes later. When the three of us are alone.”
“My favorite kind of surprise. Mmm, you, me, and Rose…” Evelyn grinned to match now. “I don’t care how the rest of the day goes if it ends with the three of us in each others’ arms.”
“You mean the four of us. I’ve been thinking, and I bet I can come up with a way to make it up to Serena and give you a sexy present all at once.” Danae held her gaze, all decisive planning and steady resolve—for around a second. Then the snort was too much to hold in, much less keep a straight face. “Surprise!”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love me.”
“I do.” Evelyn pulled her close, first kissing the top of her head, smearing crumbs and icing all over her own face, then her lips, which tasted exactly as sweet as she expected. “I really do.”
A small distance away, Rose sank down into the overstuffed couch cushions and watched and listened to her wives relax and celebrate in their own, quietly doing the same in her own. From here she could see Jack putting the finishing touches on his drawing from this morning. Nearby, Jay smiled when Stefanos held out his synthetic hand for Seven to sniff, then laughed when she started licking his fingers, rough metal tongue giving off tiny sparks. He pulled the big man down into a deep kiss, then started speaking words she couldn’t hear. Or begin to guess at. She couldn’t imagine what it would take to make Stefanos blush like that. But then, CyborJ was supposed to know every secret in Parole…
Steel feet up and the rest of her surrounded by soft pillows, Rose finally let herself breathe easy. No cake (she didn’t care if she never saw it ever again after today, quite frankly), no stress, and for a little while, no problems. She’d be awake again in time for that surprise later, after their guests had gone and Jack was in bed, but right now she was content to bask in the glow of a job extremely well done.
And a house that would need a serious day of cleaning tomorrow. But that could wait. It could all wait.
“Hey Sweetie,” she whispered to Jack as he set down his crayon and began to study his drawing, four-year-old face serious and focused in intense scrutiny. “Is your present ready?”
“Mm-hmm!” Jack quickly pushed it into her hands, folding his small arms and looking up at her expectantly.
Rose smiled and looked down at the drawing—then her smile froze.
There was the strawberry cake in the middle of the paper, right where it had been this morning. But now someone was holding it.
A man. Wearing a top hat with a wide brim. Red sparkles drawn all over the wide, pointed collar. Gold. White gloves. Red cuffs. His smile stretched almost to the edges of his face. The lines were elaborate, not just in detail but with cross-hatch shading, hundreds of red and gold stars and circles to represent sequins and glitter. No four-year-old Rose had ever seen drew at this level, but that in itself wasn’t what made Rose shiver.
“This is so beautiful,” she said when she could keep the tremble out of her voice. “Mama Ev’s gonna love it. When did you find the time to draw this, baby? With the cake and Toto-Dandy and everything?”
“Right after you left,” he said proudly, smiling. “I was quick. I almost got done!”
“You’re getting so good,” Rose said, staring at the man whose sharp smile she recognized, no matter how distorted. The truth was staring her right in the face. It could only be Garrett Cole. “Why don’t you go grab your moms—we can show her together.”
“Okay!” He hurried off, and Rose hurried to find her center before she had to think very fast and explain yet another potentially ominous wrinkle in their lives.
But she did find it. After just a few deep breaths, Rose could smile again, and mean it. That was the nice thing about feeling safe and surrounded by unconditional love; it was always easier than expected to leave the gnawing fear behind.
Rose looked up as Jack hurried back, pulling his other two mothers by their hands, and resolved not to let gnawing fear or ominous possibilities ruin this night. Danae and Evelyn welcomed her with open arms and berry-sweet kisses, and Rose forgot her worries in moments. Everything else seemed so small. Vague feelings of foreboding, chaotic days of hungry giant plants and runaway cats—it could wait. Just like the house cleaning, everything else could wait.
Tonight belonged to Evelyn, and the people she chose to share her life with. They could take a moment for themselves to simply be together and celebrate their lives together, the ones they loved, and the fact that they were all still here for one more year. Like the stains on the floor and the crumbs in the carpet, all the complications would be there when they got back.
Parole never stopped being Parole. Not even for a day.
The same day as “Happy REGARDS”…
☾
Liam Turret steeled himself and took the last few steps up to the large front desk. He pulled his long coat a bit tighter around himself and tugged down the brim of his hat, eyes flicking around the rows of towering shelves and people—and, he shuddered to note, animals—milling through them. He walked fast and didn’t make eye contact with any of them, collar pulled up as high as it would go around his neck. It wouldn’t do to be recognized in a place like this, but any piece of information he managed to catch now—a familiar face, a piece of identification to later exploit, anything out of the ordinary—could be vital.
“Excuse me,” he said in a low voice, slightly rougher than his own customary speech. “I’m in need of some… information.”
“Well, then it looks like you came to the right place, Buddy.” The voice that answered was much more casual, if slightly muffled. Liam looked up at the faint tapping sound to see a large black lace-up combat boot nudging a shining brass sign reading ‘INFORMATION.’ His eyes traveled up the boot to find that it (and the voice) belonged to a long-limbed, muscular man wearing a long trenchcoat. His was a great deal more worn than Liam’s expensive one, with a few tears that looked like bullet holes. Feet up on the desk, he leaned so far back in his swiveling chair it was a wonder he didn’t tip right over backwar
ds. He held a large magazine up in front of his face and didn’t put it down when Liam cleared his throat. Or when he cleared it a second time.
“So perhaps you could… help me find that information?”
“Oh yeah, sure, that’s what I’m here for,” the man answered, noisily turning a page in his magazine. Liam caught the picture of a happily panting golden retriever on the front cover but still couldn’t see the man’s face. “Fiction’s over there.” He jabbed the toe of one foot to the left. “Nonfiction’s that-a-way,” he continued with another foot-point to the right. “And bathrooms are in the back. Oh, and if you see a dog or two…dozen, running around, don’t mind them. They’re fine. They’re allowed. Being a jerk to ‘em, that’s not allowed.”
“Ah,” Liam said after a slightly confused pause. “That’s… not the information I was looking for, I’m afraid.”
“Huh!” The man deliberately raised one hand to scratch his head, but still didn’t lower the magazine. As he did, Liam noticed that he appeared to be missing at least part of the third finger on his left hand. “Well, then I’m afraid I’m fresh out of ideas!”
“I find that very difficult to believe.” Liam was beginning to get tired of directing his questions to the picture of a dog, and even more tired of the feeling in the back of his mind that he was being laughed at. In more than one way. He ensured nobody was within earshot and took a step closer, lowering his already slightly-altered voice. “This is no ordinary library.”
“Really?” Now the magazine came down, just enough for a pair of bright blue eyes to peer over the top edge, one eyebrow raised. Liam could tell that the man behind it—with dirty-blonde hair and rough stubble along his chin and sharp jawline—was younger than he’d expected. And he was also definitely no librarian. “What’s so special about it?”
Liam found his voice and tried again. “I know there’s something very—” he paused as a couple of teenagers headed past him; he shot them a suspicious glance as if they were the ones who didn’t belong here. The girl in the long white dress gave him a little wave while her friend, a boy with curly yellow hair and dark circles under his eyes, steered her away, shooting Liam a wary look. “Something… important going on in this building. I’m… looking for someone.”
Life Within Parole Page 5