Starlight

by Lauren Jade Case

  She marched down her road but stopped on Opal Street. The looming House stared down at her. Unease settled into her stomach as she peered at what she could make of the wooden porch.

  Like one thousand spiders tapped along her skin at once, she shivered. The hairs over her body stood to attention.

  The rest of the walk to work was brisk.

  Standing halfway down Main Street, attracting lots of attention for simply being in the right place, was “Katherine’s Koffee & Kakes”, announced with a neon orange sign. The shop served all sorts of treats and beverages – healthy or not – for all occasions, or nothing special.

  Natalia by-passed the queue of customers, keeping her head down. She slipped round the main counter and into the kitchen, and dropped her bag and coat onto the free stool in the corner. She nabbed a waist apron from one of the few wooden pegs.

  The oven pinged and Katherine appeared out of nowhere as if summoned. She didn’t smudge her pink lipstick as she flashed a white toothed smile. Like always, she wore pink eye-shadow and dangling golden earrings to match. Her little gold nose ring shone under the yellow light of the narrow kitchen, her shoulder length black hair tucked behind her ears.

  “I’ve got this,” Natalia told her boss, springing into action.

  Katherine stepped closer from the store side of the building. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “With all those customers, I’m not surprised.” Natalia bent to the oven and pulled out the fresh, fruity smelling tray of muffins.

  “It’s been one hell of a morning.”

  Natalia laid the tray to rest in front of the open window. “You’ve been open for an hour.”

  “Seems to me everyone’s hunting for a treat after the storms. Like normal.” Katherine’s laugh was hearty. “I can’t complain.”

  “Speaking of treats,” she smiled, “thank you for my birthday cake.”

  Katherine’s face lit up further. “You liked it?”

  “How could I not? And how did you find the time to make it?”

  “There’s always time for you.”

  Katherine tucked Natalia into her. Her hugs were always warm and motherly – she didn’t have children of her own, but it felt like Natalia was a daughter of sorts. Katherine was so easy to love and want around. She was like her creations – absolutely sweet without being overwhelming.

  Pulling back, Katherine asked, “Did you have a good day?”

  Natalia went in for another hug. “For the headphones!” Guiltily, she’d forgotten until then.

  Katherine laughed. “I’m glad you like them.”

  “They’re exactly what I wanted without knowing it.” She pulled away first. “I haven’t tested them out though.”

  “What about after work?”

  “If the weather holds, I will.”

  The little bell out front tinged, indicating someone had entered the store. “Excuse me,” Katherine said, rushing into the main café. She served whoever was there while Natalia started prepping more muffins in the next tray, and then returned. “What else did you get then?”

  Natalia smiled and rattled off the list. As she presented her new earrings, having saved the very best for last, Katherine’s eyebrows rose.

  “What?” Natalia asked.

  “They’re gorgeous.” Katherine’s smile returned, measuredly. “Your family has always liked stars is all. Your mother especially.”

  Natalia blinked. “My mother?” Had she heard correctly?

  “They were her favourite thing to watch, like she was connected to them somehow.”

  “Dad never told me that.”

  “Maybe he forgot?”

  Natalia scowled, her stomach pinching. Why and how would he forget something like that? “Maybe,” she agreed, half-heartedly.

  Katherine licked her lips, as she did whenever she was nervous about something. “What I meant was that I didn’t realise he could afford them.”

  Natalia touched her earrings. “Apparently he saved.”

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt. He loves you and wants to give you the best.”

  Natalia nodded and settled in to serve the next wave of customers as the bell was activated again.

  When the rush was over, Natalia swapped with Katherine who wanted to clean the counters and tables so she could start filling the cooled muffins she’d retrieved from the oven about an hour ago. No amount of liquid chocolate however could distract her. If anything, when it came to patterning stars on top as a decorative centre point, it reminded her more that her father had neglected to mention how her mother had enjoyed them, especially since he’d told her plenty about her mother over the years.

  Once complete, Katherine took the muffins. She displayed them in the case out front and peered back in the kitchen doorway. Natalia kept mixing the new cake batter, pretending she wasn’t aware of her boss’ presence.

  Katherine’s voice was soft when she said, “Nat, he probably forgot.”

  Natalia let go of the bowl with a little more force than she’d intended, clanging it on the worktop. She turned to Katherine. “How could he forget? He never forgot what she looked like, that her favourite fruit was apricots, that her favourite smell was vanilla, that she loved watching the waves of the sea despite being afraid of water. But somehow he forgot she liked the stars, the one thing that would appear most in her life.”

  Katherine folded her arms – a difficult feet for a woman with curves. “Have you considered,” her voice was still calm but a fire burned in her eyes now, “that he forgot on purpose?”

  Natalia listened to one beat of her heart. “What?”

  “Having his daughter enjoy the stars as much as his wife might just hurt him more than it makes him happy. That’s not me saying you’re causing him pain, but maybe he didn’t share the memory because he connects the stars with her being gone? So maybe he kept quiet to let you enjoy the things you love without tainting them for you.”

  Natalia cheeks flushed. She hadn’t thought of that. Maybe her father had locked the memory away, “forgetting”, so she could have them as her own. If Natalia’s mother did love them, like she now did, then he’d want to keep that separate if all he saw was how she’d been lost and didn’t want the same fate for Natalia – like a curse he was forever reminded of in the sky. He hadn’t hidden anything to be selfish. In fact, he’d hidden it to be selfless, giving her more love than she’d ever known.

  “I didn’t—” She started.

  “I know,” Katherine jumped in, unfolding her arms. “I know you didn’t.”

  Natalia’s face heated further and she dropped her face to hide. “But you remembered,” she said quietly. “Please. Tell me more.”

  Katherine’s face twisted into something close to a wince. “There isn’t much to tell,” she murmured. “I didn’t know her well. Whatever else there is, it’s not for me to say or know.” She turned abruptly, calling over her shoulder, “We have work to do.”

  Natalia nodded. She served the new customers and said goodbye to those that left, not saying more than she needed.

  During a slower period, Natalia started wiping tables and chairs, pushing them back to their original places before sweeping the black and white tiled floors with the tired old broom.

  As she went, she wondered how long she’d be here. Not just today, but in the future. Her nursing entrance course exams were over and now all she needed were the results. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder, not for the first time, if she should be doing something else. There always was a knot in her stomach when she thought it, like she was missing an opportunity somewhere.

  Sweeping harder, the stars in her earrings wiggled, and her thoughts wandered yet again. They were overtaken by curiosity about her mother’s love of stars. Why exactly had her father buried something so explainable? It couldn’t just be about paint because surely everything about her mother would’ve been painful, to some degree, to talk about.

  How complicated could it be? It was one story.

  ◆
◆◆

  The storms had finally passed and without much incident. There was a casualty, a local resident who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time – but their death had been quick, thankfully.

  It had worked though. The hunt and execution of the Monster last night had been near perfect. There had been another moment, one single moment, where Jasper hadn’t been convinced that it would. The bloody thing was huge. Yet they’d been blessed with the cover of a storm – which happened to confuse the insect too.

  He stomped down the stairs, the wood creaking as he jumped the last two steps, and landed in the front hall. The stained glass windows of the double oaks doors formed a complete picture: the right side a sun rising over a hill while the left had a moon setting behind a snow-capped mountain.

  “You coming?” Archie’s voice echoed from the stairs behind him.

  Jasper twisted his head awkwardly to face his brother and his brother’s girlfriend, Peri, who walked beside him.

  “For what?” Jasper asked back.

  “Breakfast.”

  “No. I thought I’d stand in the hallway all day, unable to enter a new room until someone invited me in like the Vampire I’m not.” Jasper smirked when Peri shot him an encouraging grin she half-hid from Archie. “Are you cooking?”

  “Why should I cook?”

  They walked through to the newly remodelled kitchen and dining area. Jasper slid onto the nearest rose gold bar stool. “Because I set fire to the kitchen last time,” he reminded them. He could see the little blaze he’d put into the frying pan, of course by accident.

  “Expect burnt toast.”

  “As long as it’s done by accident. Otherwise, I’ll complain.”

  “Like the baby you are?”

  “I am the baby. I’m the youngest.”

  Archie tied himself into the nearest apron, glancing at what he’d chosen. Jasper blinked as the words on the apron shimmered in the light. “The best ok cook” they read. Archie frowned but Jasper smiled innocently.

  “How about,” Peri moved around the island and untied the apron from Archie, slipping it over her own head, “neither of you cook? The only reason you,” she pointed accusingly at Jasper, “set fire to the kitchen was because you were trying too hard to prove a point and you,” she moved her finger to Archie, “let him take it too far. To save this house and us, I’ll cook.”

  “Are you going to burn my toast?” Jasper whined despite preferring it burnt.

  Peri waved her right arm, showing off the stump in place of where a hand should be. “I still have one working hand.” Proving her point, she wiggled and waved the fingers on her left hand. “If I feel like living on the edge, I’ll call on you.”

  Jasper settled into a chair as Archie moved through the kitchen, helping Peri when she asked.. They’d always worked well together, supporting each other’s weaknesses and boosting their strengths. Jasper would never admit it, but he’d always liked Peri and seeing her and his brother together made him happy.

  Minutes later, a plate of sadly unburnt toast and peppered eggs was placed before him, followed by orange juice and coffee. Jasper dug in. Archie and Peri shifted into the other bar stools beside him.

  No one spoke as they ate, until a light voice came from the doorway.

  “How did you sleep?”

  Jasper lifted his head and saw his mother enter, dressed in a white suit and red heels.

  “Like a log,” Archie answered. He kissed his mother’s cheek.

  “That’s how you always look. Asleep or awake,” Jasper commented.

  “Like a thick piece of nature?”

  “Close. I was thinking more like a lifeless plank.”

  Their mother pinched the back of Jasper’s neck, leaving a red mark on the pale skin. “Enough,” she warned. She walked round the island to face them all. “Peri, dear?”

  “Well enough,” Peri answered.

  Jasper looked at his mother. “Where’s dad?”

  “Talking to the Council.” Her tone was serious, as was the look on her face. Her blue eyes were focused yet distant all at once. “He’s giving the details.”

  “About last night?” Peri stood, walking her empty plate and cups to the sink, then turned to lean beside the boy’s mother. “They sent us in there.”

  “Who sent who in where?” Alex strolled into the kitchen, her usual brown curls a tangled mess on top of her head.

  Jasper snorted. “Did someone drag you through a bush last night?”

  “Did a bird come to nest?” Archie asked cheekily.

  Alex threw up her middle finger at both of them and kept it there as she walked, only stopping when she kissed their mother’s cheek. “Morning ma,” she said, her Seattle accent still present despite not having lived there in years.

  “I was just explaining how dad’s on the phone with the Council,” their mother said. “They wanted an update and a conclusion on how the situation was handled.”

  “That’s why they sent us here,” Archie scoffed. “To handle the situations.”

  Jasper pushed his plate away, no longer hungry. Not because of what had transpired yesterday, but because his brother was right.

  Before coming to Venderly, they’d all been peacefully living in Home City. Apparently too peacefully. The Council had decided that more areas of the world needed guarding and protecting as breaks in the Veils were widening and the Veils themselves were weakening – they were searching for a way to slow the process but there were no positive signs.

  The Darby’s had been on the short list to be moved. That didn’t mean they could never be relocated again or were refused re-entry into Home City, it just meant, for now, they were on an Island without much company besides themselves.

  Jasper didn’t mind so much. He hadn’t had many roots back in the City. He’d only been interested in training, which he could do just as easily here. Moving did have its perks. Here, he could acquire real life experience, something the City couldn’t provide as it was a safe haven, a bomb-shelter of sorts, from the outside world and its troubles. Now, he could kick start his life’s Purpose, the thing he’d been training for.

  Jasper’s father, strode purposefully into the kitchen. His shoes were as pristine as his suit and pin-straight tie. His dark hair was combed and slicked back. His green eyes were bright on their own, not needing the fake kitchen light to make them gleam.

  Archie and Jasper were near perfect combinations of their parents. Jasper had their father’s dark hair, though his was wavy like their mother’s, and it hung at a medium length – mother was constantly complaining about it needing a cut – and Archie had their mother’s light brown hair that was short all over and shorter still at the sides. Both had their father’s upturned green eyes and both had their mother’s freckles; Archie’s only presented after long exposure to the sun but Jasper’s were spread across his cheekbones and nose all year round. They stood at six feet tall, inches off their father, inches taller than their mother. Archie physically carried more muscle, with wide shoulders and thicker arms, though Jasper had enough of his own, his being slimmer and smaller but toned all the same. From time to time, like their mother, Archie got red cheeks too.

  Alex, though indeed their sister, was adopted. Her wild shoulder length brown curls, with a fringe she’d cut in herself over winter, and her light brown monolid eyes, often lined with dark black, were her own. She was nine months younger than Archie, almost to the day. She was toned and had muscles she proudly displayed. Her skin was a tawny brown and her eyebrows were dark, with a stud piercing through the left one, matching the stud on the left side of her nose – both of which her mother told her repeatedly to remove, which she ignored.

  “What did they say?” asked Peri, breaking the silence. She ran her hand through her black cropped bob, displacing the longer front bits.

  “Nothing much,” Jasper’s father admitted sourly.

  “I feel so disconnected,” Jasper’s mother groaned. “It’s not that I don’t like it h
ere, James. It’s beautiful! But we were in the City for so long. I grew up there!” She attempted to smile, blue eyes resting on her husband. “What did the Council want?”

  “To know how last night went.”

  “And what did you tell them?”

  “I told them the truth, Sarah, that all was fine. They just noted down what happened for their records. They did some checks, and apparently the Human who died had no family so the Council said they’d see to it.”

  “And?” Archie pressed.

  “And that was that.”

  “So,” Alex dragged the word out. “It was pointless.”

  “Talking to the Council always is,” Jasper mused.

  “Boring too,” added Archie.

  “You haven’t had that many conversations with them,” Alex said.

  “I’ve spoken to them a handful of times,” Archie admitted. “That was enough.”

  Jasper gave him that. All it took was one conversation with the Council to decide talking to them was the biggest mistake ever. Jasper didn’t want to know why they insisted on updates every time something happened, major or not. Yet they kept requesting and everyone complied.

  Jasper stood up. “I’m going for some fresh air.”

  Alex perked up, “Want company?”

  Peri stood taller. “I’m up for a walk.”

  “Sure.” Archie got up. “Why not. Me too.”

  Walking backwards from the chairs, Jasper rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Why don’t we all take a nice stroll around the Island? We can hold hands and get ice-cream? Maybe feed it to each other? Skip over the cliffside head first?”

  Alex rushed into the hall. “That won’t scare me!” she called.

  Jasper groaned. “The God’s can’t blame me for trying.”

  ◆◆◆

  Natalia shuttered the blinds and flipped the door sign to “CLOSED.” She stacked the final chairs and mopped the floor properly before switching off the lights.