Chapter 40 #2
A little ember of joy flickers inside me, and I nod as we continue down the lane.
Despite eating cinnamon rolls at the Wandering Cup, I’m still hungry from the long walk into Wysteria from Coven Crest, and when my stomach grumbles, Aric steers me toward a little bakery.
Inside, he buys us each a flaky breakfast roll stuffed with sauteed onions and garlic, sweet slices of bell pepper, and just enough green chili to make my lips tingle.
We eat on a park bench, people watching while Wysteria bustles around us. The air is still crisp, but the sky is blue, and everything feels so perfect that a voice in my head creeps up to whisper, It won’t stay like this. Something will go wrong.
The thought makes my stomach turn. I cast a glance at Aric, and he’s finishing up his roll, watching with a slight smile as a father sprinkles fallen leaves over his daughter’s head, causing her to squeal and sprint across the park with a howl of laughter.
I don’t want to feel like this, like I’m living in a sliver of happiness before reality comes crashing in. But no matter what I do, my worry lingers there, feeling like it’s ready to pounce and rip all of this away.
“You okay?” Aric asks, and his hand finds mine where it’s resting on my thigh.
I quickly snap out of my gloomy thoughts and nod. “Yeah. Just thinking about the ball,” I lie. Well, kind of lie. I have been thinking about the ball—a lot. There’s still so much to figure out, and it’ll be here before I know it.
“You need help with anything?” Aric asks.
I’m about to say no, but I stay my tongue. Then I nod. “Yes, actually. I need to design the invitations, and when they’re done, I have to deliver one to every dorm room.”
Which means climbing every dormitory tower, which I’m not really looking forward to.
“I can help with that,” Aric says, his tusks flashing as he gives me a smile. “It’ll be like running drills at runeball practice.”
His mention of runeball practice reminds me of how he didn’t show up for our tutoring session this past week. I’m trying not to feel hurt by the fact he forgot, but again, it’s another thing that doesn’t want to go away, no matter how many times I attempt to show it to the door.
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Brains.” He leans in and kisses me on the temple, then casts a gaze at the sky. He told me once that his mom taught him how to tell time that way when he was young. “You wanna start heading back? Pepper will probably be done soon.”
“Yeah.” I push to my feet and smooth down my skirt, then reach out to accept Aric’s hand when he offers it to me.
We join the bustle of shoppers clipping down the cobblestone streets, and Aric pulls me close as we walk, his body heat keeping me warm despite the chill in the air.
As we approach a shopfront, a glint of something catches my eye, and I turn my head.
In the window of a small jewelry shop, nestled on a blue satin pillow, is a hairpin shaped like a crescent moon.
It’s silver, probably no bigger than my thumb, and it catches the sun streaming through the window and shimmers, casting little rainbows of light.
A single dark blue gemstone, probably a sapphire, winks from the center of the silver moon.
I stop walking, drawn to it despite not typically wearing much jewelry except for little hoops in my ears.
Aric moves beside me, following my gaze. “Do you want to go in? Maybe try it on?”
“No, that’s okay,” I say quickly. “It’s pretty, but I don’t need something like that. I’d never wear it.”
He tips his head, still looking at the hairpin.
I partially expect him to pressure me to go inside, but I already know there’s no way I’d be able to afford something like that.
A dress for the ball is going to be expensive enough.
Mama said she’d help me buy it, and I already know I’ll have to work hard at the café over my Yuletide break from Coven Crest to help pay her back.
“All right,” Aric says, and as he steps away from the window, he tightens his fingers around mine.
But as we start away, merging into the sea of shoppers, I glance back once more, admiring the gentle shimmer of light and the way the gemstone shines.
BY THE TIME WE PICK Pepper up, he’s been transformed into feline perfection. His black fur gleams like polished obsidian, his nails have been trimmed and buffed, and he struts around the Velvet Pawlor with his tail held high, as if aware that everyone should stop and admire him.
“He looks very pleased with himself,” Aric observes.
I scoop Pepper into my arms, and he begins purring immediately, rubbing his face against my chin. He even smells good, like cedarwood and a hint of soap. “Thank you, Midge. He looks great.”
“Anytime,” she says, plucking a few black cat hairs from her apron. “Oh, will you let your mom know I’ll be by to put in an order for Yule this week? I know she gets so busy at this time of year.”
I open the flap to Pepper’s carrier and ease him inside; he’s still purring up a storm. “Of course. I’ll let her know.”
“Thank you, Poppy. It was so good seeing you again.”
“You too.” I lift a hand to wave goodbye, then step through the doorway as Aric holds the door open for me.
We walk back through Wysteria, our boots thumping on the sun-warmed cobblestones, Pepper contentedly resting in his carrier.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I say. “I hope you don’t mind that I surprised you with meeting my mom . . .”
“Not at all,” Aric says, squeezing my hand. “Your mom is great. And Pepper might be even better.”
I laugh, and I’m pretty sure Pepper starts purring louder.
We make it back to the Wandering Cup, and when we step inside, there’s already a customer standing at the front counter.
A man.
And he’s . . . holding my mom’s hand. And looks to be leaning in for a—
I jolt to a stop, Aric bumping into me from behind, and Mama and the man look over at us, springing apart when they meet our eyes.
“M-Mr. Wilder,” I sputter, recognizing him from when he and Lyra visited us last Yule.
“Oh, Poppy, hello.” He slips his hands into his pockets and takes a subtle step away from the counter. “I was just, uh—”
“Putting in an order for carrot cake,” my mom says quickly. But I can see from way over here that her cheeks are slightly pink.
Pepper lets out a big meow, demanding to be let out of his carrier, and I quickly set it on the floor and open the flap. He trots out, then right over to Mr. Wilder, happily rubbing along his calves.
Which means he knows him—quite well, by the looks of it.
I . . . think my mom has a boyfriend. And even though I’m surprised, I want her to know that it’s okay. She doesn’t have to hide it from me.
I’ve wanted this for her for a long time.
I don’t think she’s dated since Papa died when I was little.
He’s the one I got my magic from, yet I wouldn’t be able to remember his face if not for the painted pictures Mama keeps in her room upstairs.
I was so young when he passed, I can’t recall much of him, except for the way he smelled: like paper and coffee.
Mama says he was an artist, and he’d always have ink-stained fingers and pencil nubs tucked behind his ear.
I wish I could’ve known him.
After zipping the cat carrier back up, I smile at Mr. Wilder and say, “Does Lyra know?”
He and my mom exchange surprised looks. Then he lets out a sigh and gives me a shy smile. “No. Not yet. Do you mind . . . keeping this between us for now? We were going to tell you both over Yule.”
I nod. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks, Poppy.” Mr. Wilder bends to stroke a hand over Pepper’s hair, and he says quietly, “Well, don’t you look dashing, sir.”
I glance at Aric over my shoulder, and we both smile.
“All right, well, I should be going.” Mr. Wilder straightens up, then shoots a nervous glance at me before he steps toward Mama and presses a kiss to her cheek.
Now she’s even brighter pink than before.
She must be where I get that from.
“Bye, Mr. Wilder,” I say, and he eases past us and out the door, letting a crisp breeze in from outside.
When he’s gone, I turn to Mama.
“I’m sorry for not telling you,” she says quickly. “I was just—”
“I’m happy for you,” I say. Then I cross the polished floor and step up behind the counter to pull her into a hug. She smells like flour and sugar, like always, and the scent is comforting as she wraps her arms around me. “I think it’s wonderful.”
The tension goes out of her, and she presses a kiss to my head. “Thank you. I was so nervous . . .” She lets out a sigh as we part. “I guess we’ll have to see how Lyra takes it.”
“She’ll be happy,” I say as I pull away.
Mama bites her bottom lip. “You really think so?”
“I know so. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
At our feet, Pepper meows, then twines himself around Mama’s legs.
“Oh, you look fantastic,” Mama says, bending to scratch his chin. “Thank you—both of you—for taking him today. It’s already getting busy around here, and it’s only November!”
“Happy to help,” Aric says from where he’s still standing near the door, hands in his pockets.
Quietly, Mama whispers to me, “I like this one.”
But if the little smile on Aric’s face is any indication, he heard her—orc ears and all.
So I whisper back, “I do too.”
But as soon as I say the words, I think about our approaching finals, about the apprenticeship in Faunwood, about the year of distance looming ahead of us—assuming we even make it that far.
The day was perfect, but underneath it all, I’m afraid something still might crack.
I smile at Aric from across the café and tell myself I’m overthinking things, like usual. That we’re fine—better than fine. And I try to convince myself that this fragile feeling is all in my head.