Chapter 10 #2
Both Deryn and Paloma turned in unison to witness Victoria, arms full of wrapped parcels—clearly having visited some of the produce and fish stalls—staring daggers at the dog groomer.
“Just trying to confirm what the Caw reported. Since its sources can be iffy,” Marsha said, her sneer twisted maliciously.
There was a collective gasp. Greg dropped the sausage he was preparing, a bun still in hand, and a massive orange cat availed himself of the opportunity to pounce on it.
Victoria gripped the wrapped fish tighter and opened her mouth, but Paloma beat her to it, trailing her fingers up Deryn’s forearm and settling on holding her elbow.
“The most reputable Crow’s Caw has not led you astray, Ms. McMons. But while my finding joy in a relationship is an occasion for congratulations, the recent ban of over twenty additional titles by the town’s library is not. You are on the Board, ma’am…”
Paloma allowed the sentence to dangle for a moment. A moment where all eyes were suddenly on Marsha, who was turning beet red as the seconds passed. Deryn saw Victoria smirk and Greg bite his lip, no doubt to hide a smile of his own.
Paloma let everyone get their satisfaction and Marsha to squirm long enough before she released Deryn’s arm and took Marsha’s.
“How about I buy you one of those fancy cappuccinos at Crow’s Coffee, and we discuss what can be done to stop the anonymous challenges to our beloved library collection?
Before long, it will be empty, and then where will we be?
Did you know that in Florida, they challenged and even managed to ban romance novels?
” There was another collective gasp, this time one that Marsha herself joined.
As Deryn watched, Paloma led Marsha in the direction of the coffee shop on the corner of the Market Square, leaving the entire crowd staring after them.
“Well, she handled that perfectly. While you just stood there gawking, my girl.” Victoria dumped half of her packages in Deryn’s hands and turned toward the Tavern.
“And what was she supposed to do, exactly? Ms. Allende is a smart and strong woman who doesn’t need a knight in shining armor riding to her rescue.” Deryn almost jumped when Ceridwen appeared near her elbow, out of nowhere.
“Damn, are you a cat or something, Ceri?”
Ceridwen smiled at Deryn’s question. Victoria just shook her head, disappointment still distorting her features.
“She should’ve said or done something. I don’t know. Helped. I’ll tell her exactly what she should’ve done when I think of it. Now, before she names my cod and striped bass, let her help me carry them to the restaurant.”
“Are you still upset about the ham incident?” Deryn ventured a guess.
“I am not upset.” The answer came through Victoria’s gritted teeth, so Deryn chose to ignore it.
“You gained over two thousand followers off one tag alone, Aunt—”
Victoria dropped the rest of the packages into Ceridwen’s extended arms; clearly, her elder sister knew a tirade was coming.
Deryn winced. Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut.
Hands on hips, Victoria took an attack stance only to startle when a gaggle of women nearly barreled her over.
Giggling, fawning, and falling over themselves, they surrounded John Moss, who was smiling vaguely and vacantly at everything around him.
“Just surveying the splendid business that the good people of Crow’s Nest are bringing to the island. Ha ha. How about a glass of cider there?”
The man selling said cider—a burly, tall fellow Deryn did not recognize—extended him a big mug and shook his hand.
“Politics aside, Mr. Moss, I always figured you’d be a nice guy to share a pint with.
Can’t say that about everyone now, can you?
” He guffawed, and Deryn saw red. Just as she was about to tear his head off with an outburst or an uppercut—she had not yet decided which one—Ceridwen grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Don’t engage, Der. Plus, you causing a scandal is not going to be appreciated. See, even Victoria doesn’t care.”
“Oh, I care, but you can’t shut every yapping mouth. And this one is not just dumb, but also loud. Arguing with people about John Moss is not how you deal with him.”
Deryn wanted to ask how exactly Victoria thought John Moss was supposed to be dealt with, but her phone pinged in her pocket. She was surprised to see Ceridwen take out hers as well.
“You’re included in this one, Victoria. Aren’t you going to look?” Ceridwen handed the packages back and showed Victoria the phone screen.
“Now, why would I carry a phone on me, child? So that Rhiannon can find me and talk to me about some cat? I goddamn hope ‘come see a cat’ is not a euphemism. Give me my cod back, Deryn, and go help your wayward sister deal with that menace. Jesus wept, girls, how many brain cells are between you?”
Victoria moved on, leaving both Deryn and Ceridwen gasping for breath in her wake, trying not to laugh too loudly.
Victoria crossed Market Square and John Moss and the burly vendor both choked on their drinks as she passed by.
All Deryn saw was a discreet snap of her aunt’s fingers before the men spilled cider all over their shirts.
The crowd laughed. Victoria continued briskly onward to the Tavern.
Ceridwen shook her head and pulled on Deryn’s arm.
Rhiannon had indeed texted the family chat: Come see a cat. It also had SOS in front of it, and since they were only a few steps away from the Book Nest, Deryn followed Ceridwen into the cozy store.
She had been inside a time or two back in the days of being a teen on the island, buying books for school or just browsing while her date picked out a novel.
Her voracious reading appetite did not find her till her late twenties, when she discovered sapphic fiction—something she had never even considered to exist, since the world was so boringly heteronormative.
Once she read a few sapphic novels, however, the floodgates opened.
She was pleased to see entire rows of queer literature lovingly curated by Prudence right in the middle of the store.
She did not have time to browse though, as Rhiannon swooped down on her and Ceridwen the moment they crossed the threshold. They stopped so abruptly that Seren bumped smack into them as she ran through the door.
“What cat? What emergency? Is it some kind of code for something else, because I do not, under any circumstances, want to see—”
“Oh, for crying out loud, I bet Victoria already made that joke.” Rhiannon glared and motioned for them all to follow her upstairs, where she shared a tiny apartment with Prudence while the Atelier was being renovated.
“She did make the joke, actually,” Deryn muttered, taking the stairs one at a time after Ceridwen. “And she’s not coming. Something about cod and striped bass.”
“Were you going to name those, too? Claude the Cod and Chaz the Bass?” Rhiannon smirked, and Deryn huffed out a breath.
“Those aren’t nearly half as good as Hamuel and Hamantha, and you know it. Also, what the hell, Rhy? Cat?”
“Actually, it’s cats. Plural.”
Rhiannon stopped in the middle of the tiny living room and turned to the fireplace, where a large feline—Boleyn—lounged in all her panther glory, flanked by Patches the Possum…and three kittens.
“Patches is a…father?” Deryn whispered, and everyone burst into laughter.
The possum chirped, clearly in agreement, then nuzzled one of the fuzzy critters rustling at Boleyn’s side.
The black cat’s expression was regal, unbothered, and immensely accomplished.
Patches looked concerned and out of sorts, trying to nestle the kittens better.
Said kittens, who had completely different plans that included rolling around every which way, cried loudly.
Since they weren’t newborn kittens, they were undoubtedly heavy and a handful even for the industrious possum.
Predictably, the first sounds and sighs of enchantment came from their elder sister.
“Awww.” Ceridwen crouched down by the luxurious bed and gently ran a fingertip over a tabby kitten, who immediately flipped over, exposed a light belly, and mewled pathetically. “They’re so cute.”
Seren smiled and joined Ceridwen on the floor. The white sibling started crawling to her, and she picked it up, nuzzling its soft fur.
Deryn was apprehensive. Not that she didn’t like cats. Cats were fine. Honestly. She had no problem with cats. From afar, they were kind of cute. She had said so many times. She felt the need to say so again.
“Your cats are kinda cute?”
Everyone turned to her, and Rhiannon tsked.
“Trust you to kill the moment, Der. Yes, they are kinda cute. Also, they aren’t my cats. They’re yours. Patches found them in the dumpster and brought them home in her pouch a few weeks ago.”
“Weeks? Rhy, you have kept them from us?” Ceridwen’s face was a picture of anguish. The tabby was now climbing on her shoulders.
Rhiannon was undeterred by the sisterly scolding.
“Prudence and I gave Patches and Boleyn time to enjoy themselves and their progeny in peace without all of you trampling around, touching everything and everyone. They have apparently been trying to expand their family, if you believe Prudence. I am not convinced. But as you see, where there’s a will, nature doesn’t stand in a critter’s way. ”
“Well, in Patches’s way, since this possum is a force of said nature.
A true winner.” Seren gave Patches’s big head a scratch.
The possum eyed her warily and cuddled the last kitten closer.
It was smaller than the others, and all gray.
Deryn didn’t look at it too long before asking the most important question.
“Despite Patches scheming and probably stealing these kittens from wherever she got them—”
Deryn was interrupted by a rather disgruntled shout from the kitchen. “She didn’t steal them. I asked everyone, and nobody came forward, so they must’ve dumped them. Assholes!” Prudence was clearly disgusted with people—and with Deryn for even suggesting her possum had concocted a nefarious scheme.
Rhiannon lifted a shoulder before continuing.
“Be that as it may, you all can see my current living arrangements. The four of us barely fit. While I love that Patches and Boleyn became mothers, they’ve had weeks to play house, and now it’s time to see the kittens on their way.
Boleyn is sort of done with them anyway.
They try to suckle and are mostly hurting her at this point.
Prudence and I used to hand-feed them, and we’ve reached a point where they can eat by themselves.
Mostly. They still love their bottle, though.
However, we’re going out of town soon. Lachlan will take care of Patches and Boleyn, but I can’t ask him to also bottle-feed three cats.
They have no manners, no matter how cute they might be. Especially the gray one. Menace. So—”
“What do you mean? They’re ours?” Deryn heard the terror in her own voice and didn’t care.
No way—
Rhiannon waved her hands at her sisters.
“Even if we didn’t have to attend the auction at Sotheby’s, Der, do you think I have space, time, or patience to keep four cats in my life? I have a soon-to-be wife and a possum to take care of. Boleyn takes care of herself, thank Goddess.”
“Won’t Patches and Boleyn miss their children?” Deryn tried to avoid the obvious direction this conversation was heading.
“They might, and then we will come and visit. Honestly, they had a very happy several weeks, and then the lack of sleep and caring for three active and rambunctious kittens got to them, we think. They love them, but it’s time.”
“Let’s not focus too long on the fact that you equated me with a possum, my love, and direct our attention to what’s really important.
” Prudence came in, wiping her hands on a towel.
She appeared simultaneously exhausted and radiant, despite clearly having to wake up at night to feed the kittens, as the circles under her eyes attested.
Prudence looked well-loved. Cats or no cats, Rhiannon was doing something right.
Even if this latest cat development was concerning.
“And what’s important?” Deryn was beginning to have a really bad feeling about this.
“Your kittens, of course.” Prudence smiled beatifically. Mona Lisa would’ve been put to shame by this smile. So warm, so kind, and so manipulative.
“What? I can’t! I travel, I have responsibilities.
I simply can’t. Ceridwen, tell them, surely you can’t have a cat either.
All those plants! And I don’t even own a house!
I don’t know anything about pets anyway.
” Deryn desperately shook her head and would have stepped away from the fireplace if she had not been boxed in by her sisters, all cooing over kittens.
“I’ll enchant the plants, and the kitten will be safe.
As for you not knowing about pets? That’s never been in question.
” Ceridwen’s laughter, for once, grated on Deryn’s nerves.
She had a feeling an old “little Deryn” anecdote was about to be brought up.
When Ceridwen went on, Deryn simply closed her eyes.
“Remember that time when Christian’s dog died, and when you asked him what happened, he didn’t want to traumatize you and answered that she crossed the rainbow bridge?
” Deryn refused to open her eyes, and Ceridwen went on.
“You said, ‘Congratulations, Uncle Christian! Love is love!’”
Deryn dropped her chin to her chest.
“I thought it meant the dog came out of the closet, jeez. I was, like, seven years old. All rainbows were about being gay to me at the time.”
Her sisters almost howled with laughter. Prudence patted her arm with a warm “Aww, that’s adorable.” Deryn gritted her teeth.
Boleyn chose that moment to meow. Patches immediately relocated to support whatever whim her wife had, completely forgetting that she was supporting her child, and the gray kitten rolled out of the bed and straight onto Deryn’s boot, where it proceeded to get tangled in the laces and yowled most pitifully.
“Looks like you’re tied to each other now, Der. Also, it’s just one kitten. How hard can taking care of it be for the big, strong you—Deryn Crowhart, celebrity person?”
Rhiannon laughed, and Deryn couldn’t help but think that these were very famous last words.