by R. Cooper
“Good. Fucking asshole. Touching you without your permission.” Stephanie probably would have told the guy off or frozen him with a glare. She sighed. “That’s quite a change from making that guy beg for you. How did it feel, aside from the crying?”
Clematis shrugged. He’d felt everything, all at once. “I didn’t push hard. But I yelled, a little. That was… it made me feel like—like he looked at me for the first time and saw me. Not just to fuck me.”
“Like you were a person with feelings, and he had to acknowledge that, even for a second?” Stephanie didn’t sound as if she was guessing. “Which then made you cry.”
Clematis shrugged again, although his eyes stung at the memory. “It won’t stop.”
“Well, one of the easier ways to vent is to talk with your friends. But that really isn’t your style, so I imagine your brain settled on this.” Stephanie mimicked his shrug. “All your emotions had to go someplace. They’ll probably level off once you get used to them—to admitting you have them, that is. You know”—she shifted her weight to one leg and put a hand on her hip—“you really should see a professional about this, but that would be pretty expensive. And, based on my experience, I can’t imagine one who would even remotely try to understand fairy issues. Which is garbage and therapists should do better,” she stated emphatically. “However, if it helps, crying a lot is pretty normal for someone who lost a job and a boyfriend in the same week.”
Clematis opened his mouth, then shut it. Stephanie was using her kind voice, the soft one. The one she used after, when he needed that.
“Which reminds me,” Stephanie went on gently, watching tears spill into his eyelashes and down his cheeks, “so Frangi drops the bomb about your job. You know, asking anyone if they know any place that’s hiring for you. And our Flor, our usually talkative Flor, who has been strangely subdued for most of the evening, shouts, ‘What?’ only to then stalk off to sit in the corner by himself before Frangi could answer. Hmm, I thought this part might interest you. It interested me, but that’s because I’ve heard how you mention Flor. I wasn’t paying enough attention before, but lately you’ve been a little more obvious. Now I know why.”
Clematis shook his head. “That wasn’t because of Flor. I was cursed.”
“Okay,” Stephanie agreed sarcastically. “Sure. Was the curse a love spell, by chance? Because it must have been long-acting, since the more I think about it, the more I realize you’ve hidden this for years now. Years, Clem. And you kept it to yourself. Even when you and Flor would fight. Even when I would take his side and that must have bothered you. He had a girlfriend, and you didn’t say one word. You could have told me.” She briefly looked uncomfortable. “I’m not great at advice like you see on TV, but I wouldn’t have made fun of you or anything. You do know that, right?”
Clematis wiped his face again, then nodded. “I never thought you would laugh. I thought you wouldn’t care. I’m sorry.” Meeting her eyes made his chest hurt. “But it wasn’t real. It was just something I wanted. Why would you?”
“You asshole.” Stephanie came over and threw her arms around him. He stiffened, then relaxed enough to drop his head and lean against her.
“Your perfume is nice,” he remarked quietly.
“Apology not accepted,” she returned tightly. “You made me find out from Frangi.” She cleared her throat and leaned back, her composure already returning. “Though I shouldn’t be insulted. You made your boyfriend find out from Frangi too.”
“Flor is—” Clematis couldn’t finish that sentence. Not my boyfriend was both true and untrue. “He makes me feel,” he whined at last, although he hadn’t meant to whine. “I can’t pretend around him. I never could. I sent him away so I could… so I could keep it all in, and he wouldn’t see this. What I am. You know.”
She blinked several times, somehow condescending and sympathetic all at once. “What you are?”
“Clematis,” he confided in her, “who is not worth keeping.”
Stephanie blinked again, several times, and slowly. It seemed deliberate this time and definitely condescending. “First of all, I say you’re worth keeping, and when I say that, you say—”
“Yes, Stephanie,” Clematis answered faintly. He wasn’t aroused, but the response was automatic.
“Good.” Stephanie smiled briefly to let him know he’d done well. “And secondly, if you sent him away to hide the real you, I have news for you—you’re not hiding anything anymore, Sparkles.” She tapped his nose. “And finally, I almost forgot. Before I left last night, Flor asked me to do something for him.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders in a way that was alarming. Then she leaned in and very softly kissed his cheek. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” she whispered, almost exactly like Flor would have.
Clematis took a stuttering breath.
“So, yeah.” Stephanie cleared her throat as she pulled away to observe him. “Flor doesn’t think you’re worth keeping at all.”
Clematis hiccupped through his tears. “That isn’t fair. He cheated! He seems so straightforward, but he’s tricky! What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Judging from the way he stared at his phone all night? I’m guessing you already know the answer.” Stephanie slowly shook her head and regarded Clematis with fond despair. “In the meantime, why don’t you clean up and we’ll go get you some food, and then we can sit on the couch and watch sad movies. It’s what you do in this situation. It helps with the—” She waved a hand over his face. “It gets them out faster.”
Clematis looked at her hopefully. “It does?”
“No. But it gives you a legit excuse for bawling your eyes out.” She sighed. “And I am tired of no sugar and just want some brownies.”
“I can make you some,” he promised and fluttered his wings for the first time in days.
Her answering smile was beautiful.
STEPHANIE WENT home after two movies and a pan of brownies. She gave Clematis a few numbers of places to ask about work, including one at a store for sex accessories. She said the ladies who ran it were nice, and they employed lots of part-time workers, usually students.
She was the best. Though somehow Clematis hadn’t offered to please her, and she hadn’t asked. It didn’t even occur to him until she was gone. He texted her about it, a little wondering, but was also not surprised when she texted back: Isn’t it amazing how much not running from your feelings changes you? Good night, Sparkles. Good luck tomorrow.
It did make him cry again, though.
“FEELINGS ARE terrible,” Clematis complained softly to Lis, inside Sugarbuns after-hours. He didn’t come in while the bakery was open. The risk of running into Flor was too great.
“There, there.” Lis had a funny look on her face, sort of pleased and proud and sort of amused. “I don’t think bursting into tears when someone hires you is that bad.”
“Fairies’ tears are supposed to be rare,” Clematis told her, being as haughty as he could manage. He’d tried to clean up before he’d walked in, but shimmering traces were everywhere.
“It just shows you were grateful for the opportunity and that you’ll do your very best to keep the job.” Lis patted his shoulder.
“She looked so uncomfortable.” Clematis dropped his head to moan into his arms. The bracelet of braided ribbons tickled his cheek. “And I don’t want to keep that job. I don’t mind it. I’ll be fine. But I… liked the institute. Or I used to. I wanted to stay there. They just didn’t want me.”
“Their loss.” Lis plopped onto the stool next to him. “So you work at this sex shop while you look for something else. Or go back to school,” Lis suggested, tone bright. “You know what works out better for a fairy attention span? Community college and online classes. You could do that. My son did.”
Clematis heaved a gusty sigh. “They aren’t going to let me sit in like the university does. I’d have to enroll. I’d have to pay and go and take exams. For what? What would I even study?”
<
br /> “I bet the answer will come to you. There’s no rush.” Lis nudged him. “And you’re smart. You’ll figure out what it is you love to do, now that you openly love things, that is.”
Clematis swallowed.
Lis went still. “Are you crying right now?”
Clematis mumbled into his arm before sighing again.
“Are they happy tears or sad tears?” Lis hummed thoughtfully. “Or angry tears?”
“I don’t know!” Clematis sat up to stare at her in horror. “They just happen! There are angry tears?”
She wiped his cheeks and used her wet thumb to clean a smudge or something off his chin. “Of course. Humans don’t respect them much. They think anger has to be violent. They forget it can also be sneaky and painful.”
“Fairies aren’t supposed to feel that way.” Clematis knew that wasn’t true. But he also knew what people expected.
Lis continued to clean his face. “You tried to be the perfect fairy and what did it get you? Hmm? That’s right. A teensy, tiny, sparkly breakdown from a lifetime of ignoring your broken heart. So how about you do what you feel for now and let me be wise and all-knowing. It makes me feel better.”
He tried not to laugh. He did. But he snorted and then gasped at how gross he was.
Lis backed off but smiled as she handed him a napkin to blow his nose.
“I’m disgusting,” he told her. “He’s not going to want me.”
Lis gave him another comforting pat. “You’re beautiful, and he’s going to be so beside himself at seeing you like this that he’ll hardly notice the snot.”
She laughed when that made Clematis jump for more napkins. But then she gave him some day-old muffins to take home and insisted he eat them all, and Clematis wasn’t sure if he should ask her about what Flor wanted him to ask about, and just thanked her before he left.
Chapter 19
CLEMATIS WAS scheduled to work two days a week, but Mrs. Galarza was arranging some dog-walking jobs for him to make up the difference. He spent his first day at the store knocking over dildos with his wings—the shop had a few narrow aisles—and then blushing from head to toe because fairies were not clumsy. He also got hit on, which Kate, one of his coworkers, assured him was definitely an issue and that if someone was inappropriate, he could ban them from the store.
He thought Flor would like that and had his phone out to tell him about it before he remembered he’d sent Flor away. But Flor would still want to hear. Flor was a friend like Lis had told him about. The kind to always be there, even if someday he didn’t love Clematis anymore.
When he didn’t love Clematis anymore, Clematis quickly corrected himself. It put a familiar lump in his throat and made him put on his borrowed sunglasses as he left the shop. He slipped on a sweatshirt as well, although the evening air wouldn’t get really cool until the sun went down.
He walked to Sugarbuns, wanting to tell Lis about his day. With his headphones on, if people shouted or whistled, he didn’t hear it. He wouldn’t turn red or shout back or miss Flor more than ever.
He used to spend weeks without seeing Flor. It had been days, and he kept pulling out his phone, hoping for something. Sasha messaged him. Clematis asked Stephanie about her day and thanked her again for helping him. Sometimes someone in the group would send a mass text or invite. But no one mentioned Flor, not even in passing.
Clematis didn’t attempt to fight the prickle at his eyes.
He used the tissue he now kept in his pockets to wipe his face as he got closer to the bakery. At this time of day, Flor was probably at the MCC table, and Clematis really wanted to see Lis. Anyway, Lis hadn’t mentioned Flor coming in. Maybe he was avoiding any place he might run into Clematis.
That hurt. A sharp little pain Clematis didn’t know how to categorize. He’d ask Lis about that too, if she wasn’t too busy. He took off his sunglasses and his headphones before walking inside.
His gaze went right to Lis, who was so tense she was practically vibrating as she gestured emphatically at Randolph trying to both help a customer and listen to her.
Clematis hurried to the counter. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh,” Lis said, focusing on him in a weird, desperate sort of way. “Dollface!” She came around the counter and swept him up in a hug, then abruptly let him go. “I can’t talk today. I’m sorry. My son, you see. He’s acting as if it’s no big deal, but he called me and then could barely say a word. The day Callalily can’t manage a word is the day he needs his mother. I’ve got to get to Los Cerros, and I’ve missed all the expresses until tomorrow.”
“I’d take you, but if you go, I have to stay here to take care of things,” Randolph said, his tone suggested he’d offered before but Lis was too distraught to hear him. “Help the bakers set up for tomorrow, finish some orders that need to get done, payroll….”
“I might be there a while. I’ll need to pack.” Lis was distracted, but not enough to forget where she was, or just walk out. Clematis hoped he’d be that settled someday.
“Do you have a car?” he asked, glancing from Lis’s bright eyes to Randolph’s concerned frown.
“Dollface, you know I’ve never learned to—” Lis looked at him sharply. “Are you offering to drive me?”
“Yeah.” Clematis absently scrubbed his cheek. “I mean, I can. If you have a car. You need to get there, and I have nothing else to do. And I want to help.”
Randolph nodded approvingly. “I have a car you can use. Just get it back here tonight so I can drive home after work. Hold on. I’ll get you a coffee for the road.”
Lis stared at Clematis, her eyes huge and her lips trembling. Then she smiled before reeling him in for another tight hug. “I love you so much, kiddo,” she whispered.
She didn’t let go this time until Randolph put two paper cups and his car keys on the counter.
CLEMATIS DROVE with as much focus as he could, his grip on the steering wheel tight, his mind a daze. Lis sat next to him, getting directions from her phone since neither of them had ever actually driven to Los Cerros. The commute traffic was a problem, but Clematis stayed in the slow lane and crept along, barely breathing.
He couldn’t tell if Lis was too busy worrying to talk, or trying not to distract him, but once the coast was in sight, she stared out at the distant fogbank and sighed longingly before slumping a little against her seat.
“Thank you again for doing this,” she said quietly.
“You said you loved me,” Clematis answered and nearly bit his tongue. “I mean, not even Stephanie put it that way. But you just… said it. The truth. Ah. Never mind. You’re worried about your son.”
“I am. I’m very worried about him.” Lis put her hand over his on the steering wheel for a moment. “Take the next exit. Maybe driving through regular streets and not on the freeway will be easier for you.”
Clematis didn’t think city driving was going to calm him down any, but she’d said her son’s house—his mate’s house?—wasn’t in the heart of the city anyway.
“So something is wrong with your son’s mate?” Clematis asked once they were on smaller, quieter streets. “What could possibly be wrong with a werewolf?”
“Magic,” Lis said, worried and ominous at the same time.
Clematis gave a jerky nod. That, he understood. “At least you’ll be there to help your son with things. That’s really nice of you.”
“That is what mothers do, Clematis. Real ones. Good ones.” Lis was starting to get agitated. She glanced around, although they were in a clean, somewhat boring-looking area full of small homes. “I’m going to teach you that if it kills me.”
Clematis jerked the wheel, and Lis put her hand over his again.
“My son keeps a werewolf,” she said, out of nowhere, but her voice was low and soothing. “Weres are not fond of that term, which is probably why I’ve never heard Cal use it around him. You probably shouldn’t either, when you meet him. He’s really quite the teddy bear, but he and Callalily have their issues,
and it took them far too long to work them out, so I don’t want to stir anything up.”
“Am I meeting him?” Clematis asked, baffled.
“Maybe not today, if you don’t want to,” Lis replied, still soothing. “We don’t have much time if you want to get Randolph’s car back to him, and everyone will be distracted now. But soon. Yes. I think so. And, you see, Calvin.”
She fell silent.
“Your human?” Clematis prompted. “Will he be there too?”
“Possibly yes. Possibly no. He and Cal have had a difficult relationship since he—since I left. But Cal knows he can always rely on his father for whatever he needs.” Lis pulled her hand away to chew her fingernail, then yanked her hand into her lap. “You know, Flor’s actually gotten brighter,” she offered, once again out of nowhere.
Clematis tensed but didn’t hit the brakes or yank the wheel this time.
“He’s like a walking firecracker. I think it’s frustration,” Lis mused. “Although he clearly misses you and seems torn between demanding I tell him things about you and asking me nicely how you are. He’s… scintillating. That’s it. That’s the word. I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the two of you are getting blinding.”
“Stephanie calls me Sparkles now.” Clematis’s glitter was just the tears. It wasn’t lasting. “Flor loves me. Is in love with me. He said so.”
“Isn’t that just like them?” Lis crossed her arms. “They make you happy. Then, just as you’re getting comfortable, they go and tell you they love you. That they want to be with you no matter what the consequences are. And they have the audacity to mean it.”
“Yeah,” Clematis agreed, then frowned. “No. He’s waiting because I asked him to. He can’t really want me. Except,” he added immediately, halting, “he says he does. Maybe even like this. Which no one ever has. And for it to be someone like Flor… I was scared. I am scared,” he ended in a whisper.