19. Sedrick
Sedrick
P hil’s room was . . . sparse. I’d had thoughts and ideas of what his space should look like, and this wasn’t it.
There was a tiny closet and a dresser that was neat but worn. Peaches went to the dresser and pulled things out. A pair of jeans, two dark gray t-shirts with slits for Phil’s wings cut into the back, and two pairs of socks. The soft pink cotton briefs he placed on top looked out of place.
Another shot of pink caught my attention, and without thought, I walked toward the closet, pulling the door open a little wider so I could see inside.
Pink. Different shades from dark to light didn’t exactly fill the closet, but they did make it more colorful.
I ran my hand down the length of a pair of lightweight cotton pants.
The fabric was soft. It wasn’t the same silky texture of Peaches’s clothes, but it was a far cry different from the pants and t-shirts Phil typically wore.
I caught Peaches’s stare out of the corner of my eye. Peaches worried his bottom lip when I turned to fully look at him. I pulled the pair of pants out of the closet and held them up in front of me. “I didn’t realize Phil had clothes like this.”
Peaches’s eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned. Everything about him hardened, and his wings beat furiously. “What? You mean typical pixie clothes?” Hostility rang through Peaches’s voice.
I had no idea where it came from.
“Phil never mentioned it.” That nagging suspicion I’d started to have, that Phil’s choice of clothing wasn’t really his preference, tugged even tighter.
“Why would he?” Peaches huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. His wings beat so furiously that he lifted into the air. Pixie dust showered the room and threw me into a sneezing fit. I tried not to sneeze on Phil’s pretty pink pants.
“I . . . Why wouldn’t he?” I countered.
“Because,” Peaches snatched the pants from my hands and thankfully quieted his wings, “you liked how he was dressed. You told Mr. Buttons that Phil was a practical pixie and that was one of the reasons you hired him. Phil needed the job. He wanted the job. Phil’s a home-and-hearth pixie, but no one .
. . no one could ever see past his size, could ever see that he would be just as wonderful as a typical-sized pixie. ”
I opened my mouth and stared at the rest of the clothes in the closet. Then the drab pile on the bed. “If that’s,” I pointed to Phil’s closet, “what he normally likes to wear, then why was he dressed the way he was when we met?” It didn’t make sense.
Peaches’s wings drooped, and his head fell forward.
Golden waves of hair covered his features.
There was a hint of sparkle in the low lighting of Phil’s room.
Peaches ran his hands over Phil’s pink pants as if he were petting a cat.
“The job Phil had before you came, it . . . it was as a bouncer at Dusk.”
“A bouncer?” I strode around the bed, my footfalls heavy on the old, worn flooring. “What in the hell was he doing as a bouncer? He’s a pixie, for Moon Goddess’s sake. Phil doesn’t have a threatening bone in his body. He’d make a terrible bouncer.” The very idea was preposterous.
“I know.” Peaches huffed again. “Phil knew too. So did Mr. Moony. But Phil needed a job, and as I said, no one was willing to hire him as a home-and-hearth pixie. Mr. Moony gave Phil a chance, but it came with some conditions.”
“Such as?” I had a feeling I wouldn’t like where this was going.
“ Such as , he had to wear that.” Peaches pointed to the jeans and t-shirts. “And he couldn’t let his wings show.”
“What the hell?” I jerked back. “Pixies have wings. What in the hell was he supposed to do with them?”
Peaches shrugged. “Hide them. Cover them up. Phil tried, but it didn’t exactly work out.” Peaches scowled, and I knew there was a deeper story there but didn’t ask. “And . . . he told Phil he had to cut his hair.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. “Cut his hair? Phil can’t cut his hair.
” My voice rose with disbelief. “That would be . . .” I wasn’t exactly sure what.
Tragedy came to mind, though it sounded inflated.
Hair grew back. It wasn’t like cutting off a limb.
Only for a pixie, who never cut their hair, maybe it was.
“I know.” Peaches sat on the edge of the bed, folding Phil’s pants on his lap.
“He was just about to do it that day you came looking for help. Phil had the shears and was ready to cut when Posey knocked on Phil’s door.
She was just as mortified as the rest of us.
” Peaches shook his head as if doing so would dislodge the unpleasant memory.
“But that’s why he was dressed like that.
Phil had on his bouncer clothing and was getting ready to cut his hair.
When Posey told him there was someone interested in hiring a home-and-hearth pixie, Phil didn’t bother to change.
Typical pixie attire had never gotten him the job before.
He didn’t have a lot of hope you’d hire him either. ”
“Moon Goddess.” I leaned against the wall and tugged at my beard. “How much does he hate it?”
“Wearing the jeans and t-shirts?”
“And the boots?” I threw in.
Peaches gave another shrug. “Not enough that he’d risk a job he loves.” Peaches leaned across the bed, his eyes pleading. “And Phil does love his job. He loves Dillon and Ruthie. He’d do anything for them.”
I sat next to Peaches and ran my hand over the harsh denim jeans. “If I hadn’t known that already, I figured it out today.” Phil had risked his life to save Ruthie and Dillon. He could fly. He could have stayed above ground, out of the gnomes’ reach. He hadn’t.
“And he loves your house, Mr. Voss. It’s the first time . . .” Peaches hesitated before he finally admitted, “Phil talks about it like his home. I’ve never seen him so happy, and if uncomfortable clothes are the price, he’ll happily pay it.”
I stared down at the drab denim and then at the bright closet. It was clear what fit Phil and what he should wear. While it was true that the boots and denim pants offered more protection, the cost wasn’t worth it.
Picking up Phil’s pink pants again, I enjoyed the soft, lightweight feel, but something about it still didn’t seem right. “It’s not like yours,” I finally said. “Or like other pixie clothes I’ve seen. The color’s right, but there’s something about the texture . . .” I wasn’t sure what I was saying.
Thankfully, Peaches did. “It’s the best he could afford. Phil’s not . . . They don’t make clothes in Phil’s size—not typical pixie clothes anyway. He has to have his clothes made, and that’s not cheap. He can’t afford to buy the type of fabric typical pixie clothes are made from.”
My wolf bristled. Phil should be able to dress how he liked. He should be clothed in the finest silk money could buy. I remembered the pink diamond collar I’d imagined draped around Phil’s neck. It would look even more beautiful with Phil decked-out in proper pixie attire.
Ideas and plans latched onto my brain. Determined, I stood and asked, “Does Phil have a bag?” I should have thought of that before we left the house.
Peaches scrambled off the bed and ducked beneath it. He came back up with a tired-looking duffle. I told him to stop when he reached for the jeans and t-shirt. Instead, I went to the closet and pulled out the pink pixie clothes.
Peaches tsked at me and pulled out what I’d shoved in. “You really do need Phil.” Peaches scolded as he folded Phil’s clothes properly. “They would have been terribly wrinkled.” Peaches softened his admonition with his voice. Worrying his bottom lip, he asked, “You really don’t mind?”
I started to collect Phil’s hairbrush and other necessities.
“Not gonna lie, I liked how Phil was dressed when I first met him. But now I know better, and no, I don’t mind at all.
I want Phil to be comfortable, and what he’s been wearing isn’t it.
” I straightened and added, “I want Phil to be Phil.”
* * *
J ust like I knew he would be, Dillon was still awake when I got home. I walked into my bedroom and found Phil and the kids in much the same position I’d left them in.
“Did you get everything?” Dillon asked with a yawn.
“Almost.” I’d grabbed all of Phil’s clothes and accessories.
There were other things in the room that I didn’t know if Phil wanted or not.
We could discuss it later. I hadn’t truly gone there intending to bring all of Phil’s things back to the house.
I’d taken more than I’d planned, but that was only because Phil didn’t have nearly as much as he should have.
I’d left the t-shirts and jeans behind. The boots were already at the house, but I didn’t plan on seeing them on Phil’s feet again.
“Good.” Dillon squirmed a little but settled quickly.
I ran a hand through my nephew’s hair. It was soft, and Phil had trimmed it recently. “Everything go okay?”
Dillon nodded against his pillow. “Phil didn’t wake up, and Ruthie’s been asleep the whole time too. Their heartbeats and breathing have been regular, and Phil hasn’t even groaned once. I think that medicine is doing a good job.”
“I think so too.” I leaned down and placed my lips against Dillon’s forehead before snuffing his neck, scent marking him. One day, when he was older, Dillon wouldn’t tolerate it. For now, it was claiming and soothing. I wanted to do the same thing with Phil but held back.
Dillon’s tense muscles eased, and he whispered, “I think Phil’s gonna be okay.”
“Yeah? I do too.”
“We’ll take care of him, won’t we, Uncle Sed?”
“Of course we will,” I answered without an ounce of skepticism.
“Good. I like Phil. He’s really brave. You should have seen him, Uncle Sed. He whacked those gnomes good and hard, and all he had was a stick. Phil doesn’t even have claws and teeth,” Dillon said with disbelieving awe.
Phil did have teeth, but they weren’t meant to rip and tear like a werewolf’s. He had nails, but they were blunt. As far as I could tell, a pixie’s best offense was a good defense, and that was to fly away.
“Get some sleep, Dillon. I’m home, and I’ll keep watch.
” I’d sleep too, but not as soundly as I should.
I also needed to call Burt and Oliver in the morning to let them know I’d need to take the day off.
I’d already sent a group text letting them know everything at the home front was settled and would eventually be fine.
Burt had offered to bring his family over and fight the gnomes themselves.
I’d declined the gracious offer.
I would also need to give Titan Gladstone a call in the morning. No matter the fee, I needed to get rid of the gnomes, and I’d pay whatever his price to do it.