24. Phil
Phil
B efore Sedrick left for work, he’d taken the time to recheck my wounds.
He’d been right last night, and we’d left the bandages off today.
He’d still cleaned the wounds with scabs and applied Hue’s ointment.
I thought it would have been fine without, but Sedrick had insisted, and I hadn’t felt like arguing.
It was nice being cared for; selfish or not, I soaked it in while I could.
“Are you going to start cleaning out the garden today?” Dillon rarely entered the laundry room.
He and Ruthie had come around to the idea that housecleaning wasn’t as toxic as they’d initially thought and helped me more often, but for some reason, Dillon made an exception when it came to laundry.
The fact he ventured in now told me all I needed to know.
I nodded while starting the dryer. “Your uncle said it should be safe, so I thought I’d at least go out and see what the damage is.”
Sedrick had gone out this morning while still in wolf form and sniffed around. He’d been able to jump the thorn barricade Peaches placed around the garden. I planned to do my own reconnaissance and fly over. My wing was almost healed and didn’t hurt as badly.
“Cool.” Dillon scuffed his foot on the floor before bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes. Ruthie stood beside him, eyes wide and nearly as wound up with energy. “When do you plan to do that?”
I chuckled. Dillon’s attempt at being subtle fell woefully short. “Let me get the next load of laundry sorted, and then I’ll head out.”
Dillon bounced a little more forcefully. “Do you think Ruthie and I can go out too?”
I’d been expecting that question. “Your Uncle Sedrick checked things out this morning. I want to do another fly-over, and if things still seem quiet, I’ll pick you and Ruthie up and fly you over the hedge.
” Sedrick and I hadn’t discussed the thorny boundary, and I wasn’t sure if he planned to cut it down or if he wanted me to ask Peaches to come back out and remove it.
I wasn’t even sure if that was something Peaches would feel comfortable doing. He’d have to kill the thorn bushes.
I pondered that while loading the washing machine.
I’d gotten used to seeing Peaches every night.
It was odd, not laying eyes on him for the past two days.
We’d spoken on the phone a couple of times, but it wasn’t the same.
It was something I needed to get used to.
No matter what happened here, with Sedrick and the children, Peaches would soon bond with his orchard and permanently move out of the boarding house.
“Phil,” Dillon called, a distinct whine in his voice. “You’re being slow.”
Dillon was right. I’d gotten lost in my thoughts and foolishly left two anxious were children standing in the laundry room doorway. Laundry seemed like a never-ending chore in the Voss household.
“Okay. I’m coming.” I stuffed the remaining clothes in the washer, started it, and headed for the door. “I want you and Ruthie to stay inside while I check things out.” I gave Dillon a stern look. His eyes widened and color flushed his cheeks, but he gave me an earnest nod of understanding.
Dillon’s gaze strayed to the bruises littering my arms. Without the bandages, the different hues of greens and yellows stood out harshly against my pale skin.
Sliding the glass door behind me, I inhaled the warm spring air.
I hadn’t flown since my wing was damaged.
I gave it a good test and lifted off the ground easily.
Flight brought a smile to my face and reminded me that although I was large for a pixie, I wouldn’t want to be anything else.
I couldn’t imagine not being able to fly and felt a pang of sorrow that Dillon and Ruthie didn’t have wings of their own.
My smile faded when I saw the devastation the gnomes and their extermination left behind.
The garden . . . what was left of it . .
. was a disaster. Gnomes or not, the area wasn’t safe for Dillon and Ruthie.
Huge holes littered the area, along with deep ruts interspersed with large mounds of earth.
Good Riddance Gnome Exterminators had rid us of the gnomes but left us with a patch of ground that looked like a mini war zone.
Dillon and Ruthie would be crushed, but I didn’t want to risk them falling into one of the deep holes and getting hurt.
Landing back on the ground, I solemnly walked toward the door. Dillon’s face fell when he saw the look on mine. I’d never been any good at playing cards.
“Are the gnomes still there?” Dillon asked when I opened the door.
“No.” I moved aside. “You and Ruthie can come outside. It looks like the gnomes are gone, but the ground is a mess and too dangerous for the two of you to go traipsing around in. I’m sorry.”
Dillon screwed up his face and looked like he wanted to argue.
Ruthie hugged her stuffed bunny tighter and hung her head.
I hated disappointing them, and that’s when an idea struck me.
I’d planned on flying them over the thorn hedge.
My wing was healed enough for a longer flight.
They’d have to take turns, but I didn’t see that as a problem.
Swooping in, I tucked Ruthie into my arms and lifted her into the air.
After an unexpected squeak, she giggled and clung tighter to her bunny.
As I headed off, I looked down at Dillon’s wide eyes and said, “You can’t go wandering around, but a bird’s-eye view isn’t out of the question.
Ruthie first, then I’ll be back for you. Okay?”
Dillon nodded vigorously, a wide grin lighting up his face while he bounced on his toes again.
Completely unafraid, Ruthie held her arms out, her bunny tightly clutched in one hand as we circled the garden, then flew directly over it.
I didn’t think she appreciated the damage as much as she simply enjoyed the flight.
I made a mental note to take them up more often.
I wouldn’t be able to manage it when they were adults, but as children, it wasn’t much of a hardship, at least for a short time.
Ruthie continued to giggle the entire time. We made two passes before I brought her back, setting her beside Dillon. Her brother was larger and heavier. In retrospect, I should have taken Dillon up first. I was tired, but not tired enough to break his heart and tell him I didn’t have enough energy.
My damaged wing protested when I lifted us into the sky.
Dillon wasn’t as carefree as Ruthie. His muscles tensed, but after a handful of seconds, he relaxed.
“Wow,” Dillon uttered, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was up in the air or because he saw the destruction the gnome extermination had left behind.
“That’s a mess,” he said, clearing up my confusion.
“It is.” Pixie dust flew around us, momentarily coating the area in a fine sheen of pink.
It dissipated before it could hit the ground.
I glanced over and saw Ruthie standing where I’d left her, eyes wide, grin maybe wider, as she watched us fly.
“That’s why I don’t want you and Ruthie in there yet. ”
Dillon’s head shifted against my chest, and I thought he nodded in agreement. “Do you think Peaches can even it out?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I’d only wondered about the thorn hedges. “I’m not sure. I can give him a call and ask.”
“I hope so.” Dillon’s voice sounded different while we flew. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought it held a wispy tone, lighter than his usual tenor. “Otherwise, I don’t think we’ll get to plant anything this year.”
I couldn’t disagree. Gardens like this fell under the purview of a home-and-hearth pixie, but it wasn’t our strength.
I had a more natural affinity for nature than a lot of home-and-hearth pixies, but even for me, this was a lot.
I couldn’t do what Peaches did. My thumb was green, and I could soothe plants, but I couldn’t speak to them the way Peaches could.
I wasn’t sure if he could move dirt around but knowing he could manipulate plant and tree roots, I thought he might be able to do something underground that would help.
Damaged wing aching, I finished our second pass and gladly landed. I’d pushed too hard, and my wings drooped. Dillon and Ruthie were too excited to notice my fatigue or pain and that was how I wanted it.
“That was so cool, Phil.” Dillon bolted back into the house with more energy than when we’d left it.
“I wish I had wings.” He flapped his arms in the air, mimicking flying.
Ruthie finally released her bunny and mocked her brother.
They both started running around the living room, looking more like helicopters than pixies.
Despite the ache in my wing, I laughed at their silly antics.
Neither stopped twirling, even when the doorbell rang.
Sedrick still had groceries delivered twice weekly.
I’d lost track of the days and figured it was our typical delivery.
When I opened the door, it was clear groceries weren’t on the menu.
Dillon’s sudden growl erupted behind me. I did my best to block the door and keep him tucked inside. I had no idea who this fairy was or what they wanted. Dillon’s automatic response could simply be because he was a stranger.
“Can I help you?” I tried to remain polite, despite Dillon’s growing unease.
Dark, forest green hair was twisted into an intricate braid and draped over the immaculately dressed fairy’s shoulder.
His suit was nearly the same color and set off his milky-white complexion.
Fairies were classically beautiful. It was a different kind of beauty than pixies—more distinguished and less flamboyant.