Chapter 4 #2
“I actually wish it were about someone’s bush.
But how can I even begin to get anyone into my house when the view is entirely unobstructed?
Anyone and their dog can look into my bedroom and see everything!
So I’m talking about the damn bush that your sister…
” Victoria pointed with another—where did she keep getting them from?
—massive wooden spoon at Ceridwen. “Was supposed to plant in front of my house!”
“It’s almost winter, Victoria.”
Ceridwen’s feeble attempt at finding a good excuse was swept away with a wave of the wooden utensil.
“That woman keeps looking into my windows and telling everyone my business, Ceridwen Crowhart. You said you would help me plant bushes. I want those bushes to go in to give her something to look at!”
Ceridwen, clearly barely holding her laughter in, tried for reasonable.
“Her? I thought you wanted the plants for a relaxed gardening experience and asked me which bushes would need less time to care for. But now you’re threatening people with hydrangeas?”
The moment Ceridwen’s words left her mouth, Deryn knew she couldn’t risk looking at her. She couldn’t. If their eyes met, it would all be over for everyone.
Rhiannon apparently considered no such thing because she did look at Ceridwen, and after a second, they both burst out laughing, Deryn joining her sisters in giggles, holding her stomach.
Victoria, however, did not share the hilarity.
“I see how it is. All three of you better get your skinny behinds out of my place of business before I do something drastic, like make you eat Hamuel and Hamantha. Go on, get out of here. And find Ms. Heartthrob someplace to work on her ‘content’ before I lose my hospitality license.”
Rhiannon tried the “Hey, what did I do?” excuse, but was just as unceremoniously pushed out the back door.
The alley behind the Tavern was quiet, the waves playfully chasing each other a few yards away.
Deryn inhaled, drowning away whatever was still caught in her chest. She tasted salt on her lips and chose to believe it was the ocean and not her tears.
If her sisters saw her, they both ignored the inexplicable emotion, and Deryn found that to be both a blessing and an insult.
Really? Was she not worth a question? A concern?
But then, what would she say if Rhiannon or Ceridwen did ask?
Instead, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked to the pier. Behind her, she heard whispered words but chose to simply move. Undoubtedly, her sisters were deciding how to proceed. Deryn didn’t care. She needed to walk. On. Forward. Anywhere, really.
When her feet hit the old boards of the Ferry Pier, the echo of a second pair of steps came closer. The scent of apple and something earthy, ethereal and yet subtle, engulfed her.
“Ceri… I’m okay.”
“Of course you are. I didn’t say anything.”
They stood in silence for a moment, until Deryn felt like the weight of it would suffocate her if she said nothing, but her sister beat her to the punch.
“Are you staying because of me? Because I can see you being driven out of your mind—granted, that is a short drive—while remaining on Dragons.”
Deryn closed her eyes. She thought back to her list, the one she made the night of the fire… The night at 1326… The night she was desperate for air, for breath, for freedom… Then she simply confessed.
“Yes.”
“Why, Deryn? I’m okay. Rhiannon is here and is choosing the island and the town as her home—”
“So I’m not needed, then?”
Ceridwen started, then opened her mouth, reconsidered, and silence reigned again between them. When Ceridwen broke it, it felt like years, eons, had passed. The last rays of sun were playing hide-and-seek in the ocean foam.
“I will always need you. And despite what your mind is telling you, you always have a place here.”
“Will I? Do I?” Words fell out of Deryn’s mouth as if drenched in poison, leaving scorched marks on the oaken boards.
“Is this about a place to bake? Or is this about me not coming to your competitions? Or is this about Mom?” Ceridwen stepped forward, their sleeves touching.
Then she lifted a hand and gently ran it through Deryn’s curls.
“I rarely leave Dragons. You, and certainly Rhiannon, might think me foolish for remaining here when I could’ve gone anywhere.
But the reality is, I never actually could leave.
Caring for you and Seren aside, I have a responsibility to the island, the same one Mom had.
And I could never leave Dragons without a Crowhart to hold fort.
This was never Seren’s burden. Rhiannon never wanted it.
And you? You were the one I desperately needed to spread wings and find your place in the world. ”
If the sky had opened up and spilled locusts or whatever ungodly monstrosity was forever preached about to scare children in religion classes, Deryn would not have recoiled as violently as she did. Ceridwen’s hand on her shoulder kept her from tumbling headfirst into the lagoon.
“I might have an idea about where you could work, though,” Ceridwen—kind, gentle, all-understanding Ceridwen—said when it became clear that Deryn had no answer to the earlier question or the subsequent monologue.
Deryn blinked and felt the force of whiplash. Ceridwen took a few steps toward the shore and looked back, clearly expecting her to follow.
“I love your kitchen, if you’re offering?”
Ceridwen laughed, an honest, full sound, and Deryn smiled. Just like that, in the blink of an aquamarine eye, Ceridwen brought them back to solid ground.
“I actually cherish my kitchen, Der. Took me years after you and Seren grew up and I moved to decide on those cabinets.”
“I still don’t know why you left Seren the house.” Deryn hunched her shoulders and wondered if the answer was the same reason she couldn’t stay with Seren in their family home anymore.
“I wanted a new start, baby sister.” Ceridwen wove her arm through Deryn’s and took the circuitous way back to the house on the hill with the phthalo green door.
“I was thinking that there is one place you might inquire about the availability of a professional-grade kitchen. And that this place would actually need the celebrity pastry chef’s presence just as much as said celebrity pastry chef needs their counter space.”
“I’m all ears.” Ceridwen’s hand on her forearm was warm and comforting. Deryn regretted her earlier outburst. It really wasn’t Ceridwen’s fault that Deryn felt the way she did.
“You see, up there?” Ceridwen turned to the immense cliffs rising over the island and extended her willowy arm, pointing toward the Viridescent, where the Astronomy Resort rose like a spire, all gleaming stained glass, stone, and dark cherry beams. It broke up the forest and rock skyline of Dragons, so familiar to Deryn, with the force of a supernova.
It was a statement; it was a disturbance.
It should be an eyesore bracketed by the pine woods and backed by the cliff, and yet it fit perfectly.
And it plucked the heartstrings that Deryn had never before allowed to be touched.
She gulped, memories flooding her mind. The taste, the sounds, the vision… The woman.
Ceridwen, seemingly caring very little that Deryn stood there motionless and gaping at the architectural marvel that was the brand-new hotel, went on.
“The grand opening of the Astronomy Resort is soon. I swear the Caw must’ve announced it, but I was too busy to pay attention to that rag.
Still, I know the owner means business and is all business herself.
I bet the resort, which is all about exclusivity, luxury, and high class, could use a celebrity pastry chef on its premises—”
“Ceri, I’m not looking for a job. I just wrapped up filming the show, I’m beat, and once the season airs, I’ll be torn to pieces doing advertising, promo, getting new gig offers. I just need space to—”
“I know. And you don’t have to hit up the resort for a job offer.
You need their space. I saw their kitchens.
A chef’s dream. Vast, gleaming, high-end.
And largely empty these days because the hotel is not yet fully operational.
I think they’re doing the soft opening where they have a few people, their regular guests from other places, to test things out.
Just go see the owner. I can put in a good word… ”
Deryn shook her head.
“Jesus, Ceri, I don’t need a good word. If the owners are as savvy as you say, one call from my agent will sort this out.”
Ceridwen just waved her hand at her.
“Deryn, silly, too worldly for your own good, Deryn. Have you gotten too big for your boots? This is Dragons. We talk to each other here; we’re all neighbors. Go speak to the owner, celebrity sister of mine.”
Deryn nodded, and they walked in silence for a few minutes until Ceridwen finally burst the bubble of safety that Deryn somehow believed she was cloaked in.
“And you needing a kitchen aside, baby sister, something has you particularly forlorn these days, and it’s not just my impending demise.”
Ceridwen grinned, the evening breeze playing with her long, straight hair, and Deryn rolled her eyes.
“Okay, so two things. When Rhiannon chose to stay for your sake despite keeping her damn magic locked up, that was all good and fine and dandy—”
“It was never dandy, and Rhiannon is all drama and has always been drama. You were never that, Deryn. Comedy, maybe, but not drama. So, what was two?”
Deryn sighed and rolled her eyes again. Ceridwen smacked her on the shoulder.
“Abuse! People of Crow’s Nest! Your less-than-esteemed councilwoman is abusing me in plain sight.”