Chapter 4 Lemon
Lemon
I watch the dark elf and the female minotaur leave, a little confused at the welcoming committee. I might be from the city, but I really thought country hospitality was a thing and Shadow loved her visit here.
Oz lays the microphone down and leans over the bar, thumping me on the tip of the nose. “Okay, gorgeous, where ya stayin’? You’re literally hauling luggage, so I’m guessing you’re not checked in anywhere yet?”
I reach into the pocket of my dress and withdraw a paper with an address on it.
When I hand it to Oz, he reads it and nods.
“Yeah this is just on the outskirts of town. Cute little area where the cottages have a bit more privacy. Just about a five-minute walk back here to downtown.” He leans over the bar and looks at my luggage.
“Want me to walk you down there? I can get someone to watch the bar for a minute.”
I shake my head, determined to be a big girl and do this on my own, although I’m grateful to Oz for being the first really nice person here.
He makes me promise to come back later and sing again, which, of course, I will.
Luggage in hand, I head out of Whiskey Business and around to the right, back toward Glimmer.
I grimace when I pass the tiny shop’s giant glass window, hoping and praying the mean girl from before won’t come out and be rude again.
Glimmer waggles her window trim at me, though, so at least the shop herself seems friendly enough.
Thankfully, nothing happens, and I pass without incident.
Town Hall is next, and across from that, the Keeper’s gorgeous gothic revival mansion, shrouded in darkness.
Wrought iron gates surround the property, and the front yard is entirely overgrown.
Curious, I cross the street to the gate.
It sits atop two stone steps covered in moss and weeds.
A big red “keep out” sign tells any passersby exactly what the house thinks of things. In fact, when I walk up the steps and peer through the gate’s bars, the iron creaks and groans in an entirely unfriendly way.
“Sorry, gorgeous girl,” I whisper, taking a step back even as I admire the strong lines of the beautiful home.
Once upon a time, I bet she was a stunner, the gem of this part of the street for sure.
And what a great view of Town Hall across the street.
But now there are holes in her siding, and she exudes a grumpiness I don’t normally see in homes.
The penthouse I grew up in in the city is so posh but so friendly. She’s literally the best. But this place? She’s crotchety and old, and I bet she needs a friend.
“Hey,” I pat the bars lovingly, “I’m not here for long, but if you need a friend or someone to come do anything, I’m down, okay? This town hasn’t exactly welcomed me yet because it doesn’t know me, so maybe we can be two outcasts in a pea pod?”
She groans again, but this time it sounds a tad less prickly. Convinced I made some headway, I wink at the house as I hop down the last stair.
Grabbing my luggage, I smile as I walk another three or four minutes.
Downtown morphs into tightly packed rows of darling single-story cottages.
A minute later, the cottages spread out a little bit more until they’re each situated on about a half-acre of land, separated by rows of hedges and darling outcroppings of rocks.
I’ve never seen this much foliage in one place, not even in the pocket parks Shadow’s responsible for in the city. Those are gorgeous, but this greenery is over the top with giant clumps of wildflowers and mushrooms dotting the landscape.
It’s pretty cozy-looking, and I’m patting myself on the back for locating my own housing versus going with the apartment my father initially booked.
I’m ninety-five percent sure he’s got spies all over the place, waiting for me to step a toe out of line.
And I refuse to do that. I’m here to learn whatever it is he thinks I need to learn.
And once my fuck-up is forgotten, I’ll head back home and keep my head down.
Although I don’t know how I’m gonna learn anything if Letitia truly makes me start with cleaning.
Plus steer clear of Hunter. Hunter is no longer allowed to help me prep anything at all.
In fact, I haven’t spoken to Hunter since Father’s office yesterday, so that doesn’t bode well.
This might honestly be the straw that breaks the camel’s back between him and me, the more I think of it.
We’ve always been in competition with one another, although I thought we were mature enough to set that aside to keep our potions house successful.
Maybe I was the only one who thought that, though.
Signs on white picket gates indicate the cottage number, and I trek along until I find four hundred thirty-two, hand-painted in darling black italic numbers.
I glance over the gate to see a cutesy white cottage with a simple wood porch that’s got a wide wooden swing on one side.
Pretty blue shutters frame a front wall of windows.
According to the email I got from the Buttercup Rental Agency, the key should be under the mat.
Relief fills me at finally being able to set my stuff down and get a little settled. Maybe I’ll walk back to downtown and find Oz for dinner. I should have gotten his last name so I could call him with my watch.
I get up the worn dirt path and look under a faded welcome mat. Unfortunately, there’s no key, but when I try the door, it swings open. Two faces pop up in the door’s opening. Shocked, I reel backward and fall onto my ass, accidentally pulling the luggage on top of me.
A pixie female opens the door, a second who looks just like her stepping out onto the porch and offering me her hand. “Oh my, dearie, we didn’t mean to surprise you. We were just waiting to say hello!”
I rise without taking her hand, immediately suspicious. “And what are you doing in my house?”
The second pixie laughs. “Bringing you a peach and molasses poundcake, of course! It’s sitting on your table. We know where the key is so we just let ourselves in. Figured you’d be by soon enough! We left the key with the cake, dearie.”
“Uh-huh.” I look past them into the cottage, but I can’t see anything weird. And there’s a cake on the kitchen table. That much I can see.
“We’re not weirdos, dear,” the first pixie says, fluttering translucent pink wings at her back. “We’re your neighbors.”
When I glance at the next cottage over, barely visible through a hedge, the pixies shake their heads simultaneously.
“Not there, honey. We live way on the outskirts of town, but we’ve been here since the Gulch was a teeny little slip of a haven. Everyone in town knows us, and we make a point to know everyone. So, here we are!” She throws both hands up as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Merit,” the pink-winged pixie jerks a thumb at the other female, “and I’m Bryony.”
I reach a hand out, having gotten past my initial shock. “Nice to meet you ladies. I’m Lemon…Knox.” Damn, I’m gonna have to work hard to remember not to include my last name.
Both pixies cock their heads to the side, eyeing me until discomfort begins to spread down the back of my neck.
I wave at the interior of the cottage. “Well, I’d better get my things put away. Can you recommend a good spot for dinner since I’m new to town and don’t have groceries yet?”
Merit laughs. “Oh, we put a few little things in the fridge for you, as well. But Betty’s Burger Bar makes a mean burger.
Then, of course, Lizard Lick Saloon has tons of great food.
If you want fancy, you can go out to the wraith property, but that’s quite a ride from here.
Alternatively, you could come to our place, if you like! ”
I’m not sure I’ve got enough energy for this amount of exuberance, and I’m in desperate need of a shower, so I beg leave of the two elderly pixie women.
They step onto the porch and smile again. “Welcome to Pine Gulch, Lemon. Holler at us if you need anything at all.”
I promise I will, but I stand on the porch and watch them go just in case they are, in fact, weirdos.
One can never be too careful as a single gal living alone.
Although they were both pretty old and delicate-looking.
I’m relatively certain I could take them in a fight.
Once they disappear from view, I go into the cottage and look around.
The main room’s adorable with a kitchen in the back right corner and a little sitting area occupying the lefthand side. A kitchen table separates the two functional spaces. Walking through it, I find the bedroom on the opposite side of the kitchen wall. It’s all old but clean and cozy-looking.
Lotsa ruffles. It’s not my usual vibe, but I can get down with something new for the short time I’ll be here.
Flopping onto the bed, I stare up at a whitewashed wooden ceiling. “Hey, cottage,” I say with a little wave. “I’m Lemon, and you’re adorable.”
A teeny little creak must be her way of saying hello right back.
The day hits me like a ton of bricks as I lie there and ponder my welcome at Glimmer all the way through meeting that dark elf dude.
I’m blessed with a ridiculously happy disposition, usually. But as I stare up at the quiet ceiling, I wonder if I’m going to be able to find the silver lining in anything about this place…