11. Phil
Phil
“H ave the exterminators been out yet?” Peaches sat in front of his dressing mirror, brushing his hair.
I’d always liked Peaches’s golden hair. Other species had blond hair, but it was nothing like what flowed from Peaches’s head.
It was like watching liquid sunshine run over his shoulders and down his back.
Unlike me, Peaches could afford a little extra product here and there, and he was currently brushing golden, glittering sparkles through his hair’s impressive length.
Peaches’s orchard bonding ceremony was coming up, and he’d said the hair glitter was something he wanted to try. I didn’t think he needed it to look gorgeous, but I’d been overruled.
“Not yet,” I answered. I was sitting on the edge of Peaches’s bed.
Unlike mine, his sheets were silky soft.
They felt good underneath the palms of my hands.
I’d changed into clothes I was more comfortable in when I’d gotten home, but they didn’t feel as good as Peaches’s sheets.
Part of me wanted to strip down and roll in them.
Peaches wouldn’t mind. Probably.
“I can come over. See what I can do.” Peaches didn’t sound sure. He’d been very concerned when I relayed the problem’s extent. “Gnomes listen to garden pixies. Sometimes.” Peaches frowned, and I figured he remembered past failures.
“Thank you, but Sedrick wants to use the exterminators.” Unfortunately, gnomes must have had a very good winter season, and all the exterminating services were booked.
I’d brought up asking Peaches to help once more, but just like before, Sedrick shot the idea down.
He didn’t seem to like it when I talked about Peaches.
Maybe Sedrick just didn’t like pixies all that much. He tolerated me okay, but . . .
“That’s probably best.” Peaches went back to brushing his hair. “I wouldn’t mind coming out and seeing what I can do, but an exterminator will likely get you quicker results.”
“I just hope they can come out sooner rather than later. I think Dillon and Ruthie have spring fever. They want to go outside and play. So far, I’ve been able to steer them away from the garden, but curiosity is starting to get the best of Dillon. And where Dillon goes—”
“Ruthie follows,” Peaches accurately finished.
“It seems that way. I’ve gotten her to loosen up a little, and on occasion, she’ll hang out with me when Dillon isn’t around, but it never lasts long.” I thought I’d made some headway with the littlest Voss, but it wasn’t enough.
Peaches leaned back with a heavy sigh. “I don’t think it’s sparkly enough. What do you think?”
I couldn’t tell a lot of difference either and said as much. “It looks about the same.”
Peaches gave the bottle of sparkly glitter a withering look. “That’s what I get for trying a cheaper product. I’ll just have to cave and buy the expensive stuff.”
I started to tell him that I didn’t think it was necessary, but Peaches and I’d already had that conversation, and I knew where he stood.
Leaning over the back of his chair, Peaches’s golden wings fluttered twice before they settled in place. “Why do you think she won’t speak?”
“Ruthie?”
“Yeah. I mean, I get that her parents died, and that’s traumatic and all, but I’m not sure I see the connection.”
“I don’t either, but I’m not a were child.
” I wasn’t sure species had anything to do with it.
“Sedrick told me she was thrown from the car when the accident happened. From what I understand, they were on their way to pick Dillon up from soccer practice, so he wasn’t there.
I don’t know if it’s from the trauma, her age, or the fact she was there at the time.
It’s hard to know when she won’t speak about it. ”
“Hmm, has Sedrick thought about placing her in therapy?” Peaches’s nature was geared more toward plants, but he still had a soft side when it came to kids.
“He tried.” I swallowed hard, remembering that day.
“A counselor came over to the house, and it . . . it didn’t go well.
” I could still hear Ruthie’s screams when I closed my eyes.
She’d been wild with fear. She’d clung to me and shredded the arms of one of my t-shirts with her tiny claws.
My jeans held up better to the claws on her toes.
She thrashed in my arms and screamed into my ear.
Dillon had been beside her, trying to calm Ruthie.
Ruthie hadn’t quieted until Sedrick asked the counselor to leave, and even then, it had taken time. Ruthie had fallen asleep in my arms, exhausted.
I hadn’t had the heart to tell Peaches about the experience. I still didn’t.
Unaware of the extent of Ruthie’s true reaction, Peaches said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Phil. I know how much Ruthie and Dillon have grown on you. I know you’re concerned.”
I was concerned. And I cared far more than I should. It was frightening how quickly I’d gotten attached to the little were children. While it was true that caring for them was in my nature, I thought this was more extreme than typical.
Peaches’s wings twittered while he twirled a strand of barely sparkly hair. Gaze distant and off to the side, Peaches asked, “Any word from the Belviews?”
Given Peaches’s previous experience with Dillon and Ruthie’s maternal side of the family, I understood his reluctance to bring up their name.
“I don’t know much.” Sedrick didn’t talk to me much about the custody case, or at least I figured there was much more going on behind the scenes. “I know that, unfortunately, Dillon and Ruthie’s grandfather was successful and convinced a judge to hear the case.”
“Of course he did.” The rage pouring through his voice was something I’d rarely heard from my friend. Peaches was usually one of the most serene pixies I’d ever met. Most garden pixies tended toward calm.
I started to tell Peaches that Sedrick was concerned, but I didn’t want to needlessly worry him.
At least, I hoped the worry was needless.
I wasn’t like Peaches’s cousin, Peony. I wasn’t standing in the Belviews way.
I just maintained Sedrick’s home and watched the kids.
I figured I was pretty low on Arie Belview’s radar.
* * *
“H ow was your flight over?” Sedrick asked when I knocked on the front door. It had become our standard morning greeting.
I’d been flying to and from Sedrick Voss’s home for almost two weeks and still felt the same rush of joy every time I left the boarding house.
The flight there and back wasn’t as difficult as the first few days.
That wasn’t to say it was easy, but I wasn’t nearly as exhausted as I’d been in the beginning. My wing muscles were stronger.
“Increasingly beautiful. Spring is starting to unfurl, and the early bloomers are out in full color.” Soon the air would be full of the scents and smells of blooming flowers, cut grass, and warm rain.
Sedrick coughed into his fist, and a slight blush dusted the apples of his cheeks.
Sometimes, it was hard to see that faint flush beneath the thickness of his beard, but it warmed something deep inside me, knowing that I was responsible for it.
My first impression of Sedrick Voss had been varying scowls and grunts.
I didn’t think it was my imagination that Sedrick smiled more now, that his shoulders weren’t as stiff, and that the dark circles under his eyes weren’t as bruised as they’d once been.
“I’m, uh . . . glad to hear that,” Sedrick finally coughed out between sips of coffee. “Any trouble getting here?” That was usually Sedrick’s second question.
I gave my typical answer. “None.”
“Good.” Sedrick patted his pockets, as if looking for something.
I knew the routine well enough by now and snatched his keys off the counter, handing over his phone simultaneously.
Sedrick stared at them like he’d never seen a set of keys before. He didn’t take them the way I thought he might when he grabbed them. Instead, his large hand was purposeful, his thick fingers far more delicate as they plucked the items from my waiting grasp.
“Thank you, Phil. I . . . Some days, I’m not sure how we functioned without you.” Sedrick sounded half-embarrassed and half-dumbfounded. I just felt warm and fuzzy.
“My pleasure, Sedrick.”
My boss looked at me through plush, lowered eyelashes.
Some thought werewolf eyes were plain. Compared to the spectrum of colors in other species’ eyes, maybe their brown was dull.
I didn’t think so. Especially when it came to Sedrick Voss.
Those deep, sepia eyes were rich with color.
Sedrick’s inner wolf lit them from within and changed that color to brilliant amber.
“Phil!” Dillon ran into the room, Ruthie not far behind.
While Dillon skidded to a stop in front of me, Ruthie glommed onto my legs, wrapping her tiny arms around my thigh and holding tight.
“Did Uncle Sed tell you?” Dillon bounced on his toes.
He wasn’t as melancholy as our first encounter, but I’d rarely seen him this excited.
I ran my fingers through Dillon’s hair, happy to feel the soft, silky strands slide like water against my skin.
He’d taken our grooming talks to heart and cared not only for his sister’s hair but also his own.
Ruthie’s pigtails weren’t quite even, but they were respectable and appeared well tended.
She squeezed my leg a little tighter, and I dearly wished the harsh denim of my jeans weren’t between her skin and mine.
I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the heavier fabric or how it chafed my flesh.
“No.” I grinned down at Dillon. Unwrapping Ruthie’s hands from my leg, I scooped her into my arms and settled her on my hip. She latched onto my shirt, careful of my wings. “But I just got here, and I don’t think your uncle’s had time.”