I’d gone over this in my mind a hundred thousand ways, trying to figure out how I could have stopped it. I never found an answer, and eventually, I stopped trying. What was, was.
I shook myself out of my reverie and returned to the present. My neck was cold since I cut my hair.
I’d walked into the salon, and my hairdresser melted into hysterics, but after she calmed down, she figured out a solution, and I didn’t think it looked bad at all. My husband preferred it long, but it’s my hair, and I control my body.
Speaking of Devi, my messy-headed mini-me, she jumped so hard on the hammock that I only managed to escape flipping by sheer luck.
“Honey, what is it?”
“Can we keep him? Can we keep him?”
“What are you talking about?”
She tugged at my hand. “Come, Mommy. Look. Isn’t he beautiful?”
I followed her to the far back of the yard. We owned a full acre, and the back part was wooded. I stopped in my tracks, and Devi jumped up and down in excitement. “He says we can call him Blaze, Mommy! Isn’t that a great name? He says we can be friends.”
Blaze, the phoenix, was wrapping twigs, branches, and something that looked like Christmas lights into a huge nest that sat on the ground underneath our largest tree, a cottonwood that I sort of hated because it turned my yard into a white, allergy-inducing mess every spring. James and Jack, over for a playdate with David, stood next to Devi, eyes wide. Even Jack recognized that this was the biggest parrot, or ostrich, or emu, he’d ever seen. No glamour would work on the two of them now. The veil was drawn.
Before I could stop him, Daniel snuck up behind me and ran past, his arms out wide to hug the big bird. Blaze wrapped him in his wings and nuzzled him on the head. I walked over.
“Staying awhile?”
I like it here. There is good work to be done. I think I can help.
“Your language is better. You’re using sentences.”
I’m a fast learner. Are you okay with me staying?
“I’m not going to argue. Glad to have you aboard. I’ll have to introduce you to Liam, my vampire assistant.”
You work with a vampire?
“It’s a long story, but yes. He’s got a great fashion sense and is good when the chips are down.”
I don’t understand that phrase.
“He’s loyal.”
Ah. That I understand.
I sensed a sadness in him that I wanted to ask him about, but it felt rude. “I’m warning you, the kids may want rides.”
Phoenixes don’t do parties. We aren’t ponies. He drew up to his full height.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Life had gotten even more absurd.
You cut your feathers.
It took me a second. “Oh, my hair. Yes, it needed to be done since I’d hacked at it with a piece of glass.”
Only defeated warriors cut their feathers.
“Human hair is a little more complicated.”
Devi came running, having gotten Nathaniel from the kitchen. “This is Blaze, Daddy. Isn’t he awesome?”
Nathaniel was flabbergasted for a second, but he was skilled at making huge mental adjustments, and he went with it. “Hey, man. Nice nest.”
Blaze settled in and preened his feathers.
“Do you need anything?” Nathaniel asked. Blaze shook his head no.
“Okay-d’okay then. I’ve got steaks to get on the grill. You sure you don’t want one? I’ve got extra.”
Devi spoke up. “He says that’d be great, Dad. He’s never eaten cooked meat.”
“Interesting. Well then, I’ll cook his rare. See you back at the house.”
And there we were, a half-hour later, eating steaks, baked potatoes, and green beans on the deck, just me, my kids, Angie’s boys, my husband, and a phoenix. Liam was coming over for dessert. It felt normal. After dinner, I watched Blaze play with the kids. He was gentle, kept an eye on all of them, and they loved it when he wrapped them in his wings. He was also a damn good soccer player.
Maybe I didn’t need to be afraid of babysitters anymore.
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About the Author
J.D. Blackrose is the fantasy pen name of Joelle Reizes. She loves all things storytelling and celebrates great writing by posting about it on her website, www.slipperywords.com.
When not writing, Blackrose lives with three children, an enormous orange cat, her husband and a full-time job in Corporate Communications. She’s fearful that so-called normal people will discover exactly how often she thinks about wicked fairies, nasty wizards, homicidal elevators, and the odd murder. As a survival tactic, she has mastered the art of looking interested.
Copyright © 2017 by J.D. Blackrose
Cover Design by Melissa McArthur
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental. Except that bit about that guy. That’s totally a thing.
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