Chapter 3
My parents and aunt came by after dinner to see JJ and have dessert with us.
The palace kitchen had sent up three pies.
Three. For five people. That was just how they did things.
Coconut cream pie, turtle—which was pecans, salted caramel and chocolate—and a Dutch apple.
Jayne had vanilla ice cream to go with the Dutch apple.
The kitchen counter looked like a pie buffet.
Jayne insisted on serving everyone, but my aunt went to help, since my mom was holding JJ.
We all settled in the living room with coffee and plates of pie.
I’d gone with Dutch apple and a small scoop of ice cream.
The palace kitchen made it just right, with a little bite left in the apples and a generous amount of cinnamon.
It was one of my favorites. My dad had it, too, but my mom went for coconut cream, and my aunt and Jayne had the turtle.
It was a nice, relaxing evening, and I was glad my family was getting to spend some time with us.
Jayne and I were on one couch, my mom and dad on the other, while Aunt Zinnia took one of the chairs. Spider and Sugar sat on the back of our couch, folded into loaf positions. They looked half asleep, but I was sure they were listening intently.
Jayne nodded after taking a bite of the pie. “This is good. How’s the apple?”
“Great,” I said. “You like it, Dad?”
“It’s the best apple pie I’ve ever had, and I thought the Oasis made a good one.”
The Oasis Resort was where their show was.
Jayne smiled. “I’ll let the kitchen know. How’s the show going?”
“Really well,” my dad answered. “Sales are still very strong. Adding a new trick now and then helps keep it fresh, I think. Fortunately, we’d already blocked off this time so we could come up and see our new grandson.”
My mom smiled. “I would not have missed this for anything.”
“Who’s filling in for you?” I asked.
My dad glanced at my mom, the knowing look in his eyes announcing he was about to reveal something he was proud of.
“Oh, just made a little call to a friend of ours. Mickey Slim is taking over for the first week, and Zynda Rae Harte will be on stage the second week. Kevin O’Hanagan is on call for week three, should we need him. ”
Jayne’s fork stopped midair. “Are you serious?” She stared at my dad. “Can you get me tickets? I might head to Vegas.”
That got them all laughing.
“For real,” Jayne said. “Mickey Slim is the number one country artist right now. Zynda Rae Harte is arguably the best human illusionist around, and Kevin O’Hanagan is straight-up hilarious. You know all of those people?”
I shot her a look before my dad could answer. “You don’t listen to country music. And how do you know about Zynda Rae and Kevin O’Hanagan?”
She shot a look right back. “Do you not have TikTok? They’re all huge on the Tok.”
My dad nodded. “She’s right, they are. Your mom and I just started a channel there.”
Jayne grabbed her phone. “I will follow you right now.”
I shook my head as my dad gave her their account info, feeling a little out of my depth. Was I getting old? I was a dad now. I glanced down at myself. Was it time to trade in the silver chains and leather for more dad-appropriate attire?
Nah.
“That’s cool,” I said. “You guys are hipper than I realized.”
My dad’s chest puffed out. “You have to stay on top of things, social media-wise, if you want to keep yourself in the public eye.”
My mom cut her eyes at him, then shook her head. “We have a twenty-three-year-old social media specialist running that account.”
Jayne and I laughed. Aunt Zinnia, deep into her dessert, just rolled her eyes as if it was all nonsense.
My dad was quick to add, “I post things to there.”
My mom nodded. “I’m surprised you didn’t post this pie.”
Jayne, who was still looking at her phone, said, “He did.” She turned her phone around to show us the pie video my dad had somehow taken and uploaded.
“It is good pie,” Aunt Zinnia said, her plate magically empty. “Might have another small slice.”
“Have as much as you want,” Jayne said. “I can get it for you.”
“Don’t you dare. You sit,” Aunt Zinnia said. “I’m perfectly capable of helping myself.” She took her plate into the kitchen.
“Jayne, are you taking care of yourself?” my mom asked.
Jayne nodded. “I am, I promise. Winter elves have great metabolisms and recover very well. In fact, I’m going out tomorrow.” She bit her lip.
I knew she hadn’t meant to say that.
“Oh?” My mom’s brows lifted. “Where are you going?”
“Um …” Jayne sighed, quickly smiling, but I knew her. She was wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I’m going to see the royal couturier about a dress for Naming Day. Just a quick trip. I won’t be gone long.”
My mom nodded. “I remember my first trip out alone with Sin. I think he was maybe three or four weeks old? I was so ready to get out of the house and be on my own again. Partly I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, but also I was so proud to show my son off to the world.”
I exhaled. My mom really understood what Jayne was going through. I was so proud of her for that.
“Yeah?” Jayne said.
My mom nodded. “Not only that, but my mother-in-law, bless her, had been hovering over me like I was an invalid who didn’t have a clue how to take care of a baby.” She touched my dad’s arm. “Sorry, Anson, but you know how it was.”
He was forking up his last bite of pie. “Oh, I remember. I loved my mom, but she could be a lot. May she rest in peace.”
I frowned. “I never knew that about Grandma Crowe.”
My dad looked up. “You don’t remember that winter we went to Colorado and she had you so bundled up you couldn’t put your arms down? You were five or six, I think.”
I thought back, then shook my head. “I remember Colorado but not being bundled up. I must have blocked it out.”
My mom looked like she was trying not to laugh. “You fussed so much you only lasted five minutes before you wore her down and she took one of the snowsuits off you.”
“One? How many did I have on?”
“Two,” my dad said. “On top of long johns, plus a wool hat, scarf, and gloves.”
Jayne fanned herself. “I’m getting overheated just hearing about it.”
My mom just smiled. “Well, you enjoy your trip tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Jayne said. “Maybe tomorrow afternoon, after JJ’s nap, we could all go the Sugar Shack? If you guys are up for it.”
My dad nodded right away. “Anything you want to do is fine by us.”
My Aunt Zinnia made a small noise. “Is there a yarn shop in this town? Might work up a pair of booties and a hat for that new great-nephew of mine. If I can get some nice yarn and the right hook.”
“That would be great,” Jayne said. “There used to be a yarn shop. The Yarn Yeti.” She wrinkled her nose. “Terrible name, considering that yarn made of yeti fur would probably smell like hot garbage, but it’s a cute store. I went in there with my aunt once.”
Aunt Zinnia leaned forward. “Are you saying yetis are real? Abominable snowmen? The cooler cousin of the sasquatch?”
Jayne laughed. “I don’t know about the cooler cousin, but yetis are most definitely real. Teeth and all.”
I put my hand up like I was swearing a vow. “I can attest to that. They invaded Nocturne Falls once.”
“Rotten things,” Jayne said. “But nothing we need to worry too much about in town. Besides, they don’t generally eat people or pets. They like raw fish. Although they will go for sweets, too.”
Aunt Zinnia’s penciled-in brows had almost reached her hairline. “Wh-what do these yetis look like? How big are they?”
“Not big,” Jayne said. “About the size of a four-year-old. They’re covered in blue fur, have lots of sharp teeth and dagger-like talons, but they stink like a pile of overloaded diapers left in the sun. Trust me, you smell that, and there’s probably a yeti nearby.”
“Good to know, I suppose.” Aunt Zinnia sat back, looking very much like she wasn’t sure she should have come.