Touch of Heartache

by Joy Penny

  The boy reached his hand out and Nolan leaned in, letting the toddler’s fingers graze the top of Silly’s wings.

  The kid grinned and Nolan put both wingtips on Silly’s cheeks, turning on the “aw, shucks” charm.

  “Let’s get a picture,” said Angie, pleased with the Code Blue turnaround. “With everyone!” She took Nolan by the wing and guided him to a spot against the wall. She grabbed a phone from one of the men and then the dads lined up their kids on either side of Silly, Blueberry-Kid still in one of his dads’ arms but grinning all the same. His hand was on Silly’s beak for the picture.

  As the dads and older kids expressed their thanks and went back to their breakfasts, Nolan heard another voice. “…have a minute?”

  Nolan couldn’t hear clearly who had gotten Angie’s attention, but he saw her turn and he waited. It was dangerous to fully turn around in a crowded environment like the buffet without his Tildy Scout caretaker to guide him. Kids and servers under his feet, tables where he didn’t expect to find them—it was best to wait for Angie’s guidance. He waved across the room when he heard a kid shout, “Silly!”

  “Sure,” said Angie, looping her arm through his wing. “You don’t have to be eating here for a picture with Silly.” She tugged Nolan around completely. Before he could even take note of the kid, someone was clenching his side and saying, “Doo dee doo doo,” which was one of Silly’s catchphrases.

  He patted Silly’s wings against the kid’s back as his eyes focused through the mesh.

  There was a mom and dad standing there—next to Lilac.

  Lilac. She wasn’t wearing a blazer today—even through the mesh he could make out the long-sleeved, high-buttoned blouse and navy pants—and although her flawless face seemed strained, a little smile was dancing on her lips.

  “I found him in the lobby,” said Lilac, straight to Silly himself. “He’s Silly’s number one fan and I told him I knew right where he might find him today.”

  The boy grabbed Silly’s wingtip in his hand and started swinging it. Nolan finally got a look at him and he was decked from head to toe in Silly-patterned gear, including a half-Silly head hat atop his head. Nolan made Silly do a little rocking dance and waved the wingtip held by the boy in the air like they were soccer champions together. The boy laughed. “Doo dee doo doo! Come on, Silly! Say it!”

  “Oh, Silly can’t speak,” said Angie, stepping in to do her Code Purple routine. “He made a magical vow to Queen Animaliao that when he was in our realm, he wouldn’t say a word—otherwise the spell keeping him here will be broken.”

  Nolan put Silly’s free wingtip over his beak and shook his legs—frightened Silly, afraid the magic might break.

  “Aw,” said the boy. “I hate Queen Animaliao.”

  Nolan held Silly’s free wingtip high up into the air. Shock.

  The boy laughed.

  “Now, now,” said Angie. “Queen Animaliao is Silly’s friend.” The clock was running—all Tildy Scout caretakers reported how many groups the costumes took pictures with each shift, which DeShawn reported to Earl himself, and when the mood struck, Earl would come down to the break room and give some b.s. lecture about time and speed and customer service and the great impossible balance. No one wanted Earl in the break room. “Let’s get that picture,” said Angie, walking over to the boy’s parents and taking a phone from one. She talked to them and the woman clearly hesitated, but she managed to get them both to step alongside Silly and their son.

  “Doo dee doo doo!” said Angie—and the family repeated after them.

  Because Lilac was standing right beside Angie, this time Nolan didn’t close his eyes. In fact, he actually smiled. Not that anyone could tell that through the costume.

  “Goodbye, Silly,” said the boy as Angie returned the parents’ phone.

  Nolan patted the boy on the head and then the super fan ran off, following his parents back to the lobby.

  Lilac lingered and Nolan stared at her, gorgeous even through his mesh eyes.

  She stared back, then, seeing Angie slip in beside Nolan, she ran forward, tugging gently on Angie’s sleeve. “Can I have a picture with him?” she asked.

  Laughing, Angie cocked her head. “Sure.” She knew she was Earl’s new assistant manager—word got around fast and Earl had briefly brought her to the break room last week, Nolan heard tell from Eddie, who had turned his eyes away from Jo for long enough to catch sight of her “fine ass” apparently, so he said out of earshot of the girls in the guys’ locker room. For better and for worse, Nolan had been in the bathroom at the time.

  Lilac brought her hand up—she’d been clutching her phone the entire time and Nolan hadn’t been able to tell through the suit—and swiped at the screen before handing it to Angie. She and Lilac switched places, Lilac slipping her arm around Silly’s wing.

  Even with the layers of sweat and plush between them, Nolan could feel his body flush at the touch.

  She rested her cheek against Silly’s shoulder and Nolan’s mind raced to how she’d leaned all over him at the park.

  “Say, ‘doo dee doo do,’” said Angie, snapping Nolan back to reality.

  If the camera had had x-ray functions and could have captured Nolan’s face under Silly’s head, it would have shown his head bent down slightly, gazing at the place he knew Lilac to be, his mouth turned up in a smile unlike any he’d worn in ages.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lilac had gotten through all of Tuesday morning with little incident. Walking to that office made her physically sick—she’d had to run to the bathroom to make sure she wasn’t going to throw up—but she’d done it. Earl had been dismissive of her when she’d arrived, feigning being busy. Unlike during the previous week, he’d kept their office door open and was often either sending her out on errands or going himself—leaving them together as little as possible and never not within someone’s earshot.

  Good, thought Lilac. I hope I scared you into decency.

  She didn’t always feel as confident as that, though. She reached for paperwork with shaky hands, felt her throat dry up, always aware of who was to her side, aware of what had happened when she’d been in that seat.

  Once she’d gone for a walk, her phone clenched in her hand, ready to text Gavin, and hadn’t even told Earl what she was doing. He hadn’t even looked up from his work to ask.

  That was when she’d found the Silly Sandgrouse fanboy in the lobby and, remembering the shift schedule in the break room, had taken him over to see Nolan. He was their ice breaker, that eight-year-old.

  They’d exchanged a few messages that night. Lilac had sent him the photo she’d had taken of them together, along with the message: Confession. I knew that was you.

  By lunch time Wednesday, she’d gotten the message: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Silly Sandgrouse’s friend. When he’s out of this break room, I cease to exist. He did tell me about this hot girl who was getting all cozy with him at the buffet. Girl has a thing for birds, I’d wager.

  She’d laughed then where she sat on the two-foot decorative concrete wall surrounding the bushes behind the Tent Tildy building, not caring that the few landscapers within earshot looked over to find her picking cilantro out of her sandwich and giggling to herself. She decided she liked being back there. No one bothered her back there. And it had given her plenty of time to text Gavin—and to think about what to say to Nolan next. Gavin had been determined to snap her out of her good mood, though.

  If you don’t report him, I will.

  Lilac wiped her fingers on a tissue she’d commandeered as a napkin. Don’t you dare, she typed. Drop it, okay?

  DROP IT?? Are you crazy?

  Thanks, typed Lilac as she said the word aloud wryly. The landscapers would really think she was nuts now, which only proved Gavin’s point. Look. I’m doing okay today. I appreciate you being here for me, but you pressing this issue is just going to undo all the work I’ve put in to reach this point. I’m okay. You’ve kept your pr
omise and haven’t told ANYONE, right?

  Yes! It’s the wrong thing to do, but I’ve kept my word. And you’re not okay—don’t tell me otherwise—and someone deserves a big, fat lip, but… okay. I’ll drop it… For now.

  Thank you, wrote Lilac. She checked the time. She still had twenty minutes. Gavin was on lunch, too—apparently he could take it early. Hell, since they didn’t pay him for his labor, they ought not to complain when he took his breaks.

  Lilac decided to lighten the mood and sent him the picture of her and Silly. Here’s the hot guy you talked to on Sunday.

  Gavin sent an emoji of a laughing face. He’s more handsome than I imagined.

  Isn’t he, though? He’s so in demand that I worry he just wanted me there as some arm candy for his glamour shot.

  Tonight’s entertainment headline: Silly Sandgrouse, long-time friend and sidekick of Tildy Tapir, has a hot, blonde piece of ass on the side. What will Queen Animalia say?

  Lilac laughed aloud again. It’s Queen AnimaLIAO. And she’s not dating Silly Sandgrouse.

  Thank the gods, wrote Gavin. He paused for a moment. Hey, isn’t Silly Sandgrouse like sixty years old? And still a bachelor, eh? That’s right in your wheelhouse.

  That deserved an emoji with its tongue stuck out. I’ll have you know that under all those feathers, he’s a baby-faced boy whom I suppose must be at least 21 since he was in that bar. SO cute, I’ll admit that. Not what I hoped for, but more than fuckable, believe you me. A flash of Earl’s hands on her shoulders, his hand traveling down her skin, shot through her. This, while he was married. If that’s what older men had to offer her, then the hell with that anyway.

  Happy to hear, wrote Gavin. But I’m more concerned that when you skin a giant bird, he turns into a hot baby-faced boy.

  Lilac crumpled up her sandwich paper, shuddering at the sight of the cilantro as she squeezed it all into a ball in her fist.

  Gavin sent a photo of a man with short, messy brown hair in a dark business suit in profile, his mouth in a thin line. At first glance, he seemed mature and he made Lilac’s heart race just a little, but the closer she looked, the more she was certain he was no older than thirty or so. How fuckable is he? texted Gavin.

  Laughing, Lilac let go of her trash. Who is this?? she asked.

  Answer the question first.

  Lilac groaned. Very, supremely fuckable. You happy? Now spill.

  That’s Gabriel.

  THAT’s Gabriel??

  I actually thought you might have recognized him.

  How would I have recognized him??

  I gave you his name. I said he was hot—you know where I work. Googling would have done the trick.

  Lilac scoffed, although Gavin couldn’t hear it. Maybe I’m not that nosy.

  Since when?

  She dodged the question. So last week—before you said he was hot—and you were going on and on about him being a hardass, you didn’t say anything about his fuckability then. Why now?

  Gavin waited a moment to answer. I don’t know. I doubt he’s even gay—or with my luck, he is but he’s not single. I’m just admiring.

  Lilac knew there was more to the story, but Gavin wasn’t offering up any details. So you’re totally over disaster date.

  Oh my god, SO over disaster date. Gavin paused. I should get going, but I’ll have my phone on me. CALL ME if Earl does anything.

  Lilac hesitated a minute and settled on sending a yuck face, trying to make the situation lighter than it really felt. But thank you. Love you!

  Love you, too, wrote Gavin. Go pluck some feathers and find your happy, Li.

  Giggling like a madwoman, Lilac cradled her phone in both hands. She looked up, caught one of the landscaper’s eyes, and grinned so widely, she actually scared him into taking a few steps backward to put more space between them.

  By the time Thursday had rolled around, Lilac was in a much better mood. She still felt sick whenever she was in that office, which was why she might have literally jumped out of her desk when Earl told her he’d approved her Ballroom/Tent Tildy crossover project and that she was set to meet with Gyu-ri again about it.

  She scrolled through her messages while in the shuttle that ran between the resort and the Ballroom. There was the usual silliness from Gavin along with a Will you report him today? question this morning she’d only written Stop to. Then there was the much smaller message string with Nolan. He’d sent a photo of himself with a bunch of people from the break room alongside an in-costume Queen Animaliao and Prince Beastly. Costume crew says hi, he’d written this morning. Notice no Tildy, Silly, or Leah to be found here. You’ll never find them and their “friends” in the same picture. Curious…

  “Last stop,” said the shuttle driver. “Unless you’re just going for a ride and you want a lift back to Tent Tildy.” The man—kid really, probably like eighteen—winked at her and she rolled her eyes, stepping out to enter the Ballroom, her phone still clutched in her hand and a folder under her arm. Bypassing the footmen and women who offered to assist her down, she strutted through the procession with so much business on her mind, she almost forgot to take in all the magic. She almost forgot there was magic, like an enchanting royal dance that never, ever ended while the park was open was the most normal thing in the world.

  The concealed employee door made her hesitate. She still didn’t have her own badge and she hadn’t even thought to ask Earl for his this time. Like she wanted anything that had hung around that slimy neck in her hands again.

  She texted Gyu-ri, explaining her predicament, glad she’d exchanged numbers with her the week before. Within a few moments, the slightly-older woman was at the door, bursting through the mural of the palace garden to let her inside.

  As they wove through the employee hallways, Gyu-ri talking all the while, they almost bumped into a Prince Beastly and his Tildy Scout caretaker, with whom he was locking lips and entwining limbs.

  “Hey,” said Gyu-ri. “You’re on duty.” She seemed nonplussed, though, as they wove their way around the lovers as well as a waiting Queen Animaliao and her Tildy Scout caretaker.

  “Sorry,” said the woman who’d been making out with Prince Beastly as she smoothed her clothing down.

  “Apologies,” said Prince Beastly, suddenly back in character. He put one hand across his chest and bowed to Gyu-ri before Queen Animaliao slipped in and took his arm.

  Lilac recognized all of them from the photo. She opened her mouth to say something, but Gyu-ri was almost around the corner now and besides, the two Tildy Scout caretakers grabbed for the doors and the blast of music from the Ballroom ceased suddenly, a voice echoing over the loudspeaker. “Girls and boys, ladies and gentlemen, and people from all corners of the land—please welcome your rulers, Queen Animaliao and her consort, Prince Beastly!”

  Lilac ducked behind them to catch up to Gyu-ri, who waited for her, grinning. “They do that several times a day,” she said. “You get used to it. Eventually, it kind of loses its pomp and circumstance.”

  Lilac didn’t realize it until that moment, but she’d been staring at the royal couple, practically drooling, just like she had as a kid.

  She smiled sheepishly at that and stepped into Gyu-ri’s office.

  Opening up the folder, she laid out the spreadsheets and plan she’d written up, slipping her phone on the chair beside her. They talked about the plans and settled on a date—early fall. Right around the time Lilac would have been settling into her life as a teacher if she’d stuck to that path. She was hit with a sudden feeling of wistfulness, imagining the life she was supposed to have had—a life she’d figured on having just two weeks before. She’d have actually had most of the summer off. She could have traveled a bit—maybe even come to Tildy World for a few days as a “camper,” as a guest. Her parents had talked about heading off to Europe for a week or two and had wanted to know if she’d like to come along and she definitely would have gone. Then she’d have moved to her Minnesota apartment in August. She wondered
if that other educator she’d met online had ever found another roommate. Things had moved so crazily since then, it was almost like she’d been dreaming.

  “Lilac?” asked Gyu-ri. “Are you all right?”

  Lilac realized a tear had fallen down her cheek and she brushed it away. “Yes, sorry. Sorry about that.”

  She made a note in her phone about the event, brushing aside the notifications from Gavin. She hadn’t spoken to Brielle since Sunday. “So what kind of weekly goals should we be setting until then?”

  “Did Earl do something—something to you?”

  Lilac’s mouth fell open at that.

  Gyu-ri immediately looked flustered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried—it’s just, word gets around—”

  “Word gets around?” asked Lilac. “People know something bad about him and he still works here without a care in the world?” Lilac thought angrily of Jillian then, her sly remarks, the way she’d stared Lilac down like she was in on the filth Earl perpetuated. She thought of Christian and how he hadn’t said anything disgusting himself, but how he’d laughed at Earl crossing the line, how he’d let his eyes do some of the talking on their own.

  Then there were the comments about Earl’s assistant managers never lasting long and that fire that took turns coursing through her veins alongside ice and sadness burned her up from the inside.

  Gyu-ri almost shirked back. “Just rumors,” she said. “But the guy kind of… I don’t know. I notice it more with the young women than the ones my age, but even with me, he can be belittling—sexist.”

  Lilac bit her lip. Was she talking about him being a general jerk or did she know he’d crossed the line from jerk to assaulter on at least one occasion?

  “You’re not the first girl to lead me on.” It had to have been on more than one occasion.

  “I…” Something caught in Lilac’s throat. The fire died down and she didn’t even know why. Her voice choked and she shook a little. Her phone buzzed then—just a notification that her mom had liked her Silly Sandgrouse mascot picture on Instagram—but she used it as an excuse. “I should get back,” she said.