28. Secret Fantasy
Secret Fantasy
Cerise
Isat at my kitchen table, the morning sun peering through the arched window and Arthur stretched out on the sill enjoying the warmth, while I thumbed through the classifieds.
Every time I looked through the paper, I couldn’t help but stare at the same advertisement. One I had been staring at for months.
It was for an empty building within walking distance from my house and just down the street from Rosamund’s coffee shop.
The outside appeared to be in good shape, its wooden walls and clay shingle roof completely intact from what I could tell.
But the inside needed a bit of work. How did I know that?
Well…perhaps I’d passed by and peeked into the windows on my way to the coffee shop a time or two. Or three. Or four.
It had been sitting vacant for close to a year. No buyers. And the reason? The price. The asking price was so high, it was insulting. They had lowered it a couple of times but it hadn’t enticed anyone.
Apparently, no one in town wished to open a business there badly enough to pay the offensive cost. So there it sat…forgotten and lonely.
My little fantasy. A secret that no one, aside from Emberly and Rosamund, knew about.
Taking a sip of my coffee—a dash of cream, no sugar—I imagined what I could do with the space.
It was the perfect size for a small clinic.
Once the inside was cleaned up, I would give it a fresh coat of paint.
A calm, relaxing green. Perhaps a soft sage or maybe a deep hunter.
The front room would house a little reception desk for clients to check in, and a waiting area with plenty of cushioned chairs.
I would build a large private room in the back where I’d perform my examinations, heal my patients and store my supplies in wall-to-wall cabinets. I wouldn’t need much—bandages, disinfectant, perhaps a few herbs—since I mostly used my magic for healing.
My skills were there. I had the training. I’d been practicing my healing magic for decades behind my mother’s back. I had even secretly taken extra courses when I had time and healed hurt wildlife whenever I had the opportunity.
I had healed Arthur when I first found him. He was a scrawny kitten. Cold and shivering, I found him hiding behind a local potions shop. He had puncture wounds which had begun to abscess, likely from an attack from another animal, and had looked at me with the most pitiful big yellow eyes.
Without a second thought, I had scooped him up, taken him home, and cared for him.
I was fantastic at it.
So what was stopping me? Money, yes. Definitely that. But if I had the money to buy the property, would I actually go through with it? Could I leave the career I’d so diligently worked toward?
Absolutely not. I wasn’t brave enough. Despite my healing knowledge on the side, academics was all I knew. It was safe. Predictable.
So my clinic remained a fantasy. Far out of reach.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Startled, I rose and strode across the kitchen to the phone on the wall. “Hello?”
“Hey, CeCe,” Emberly’s voice spoke on the other end of the line. “What are you up to?”
“Good morning,” I replied. “Oh you know. Just having breakfast.”
“You’re staring at that ad again, aren’t you?”
I twirled the phone cord in my fingers. “Of course not.”
“It’s Sunday morning. You do that every Sunday morning.”
“I’m a creature of habit,” I said, leaning against the wall.
“That’s an understatement. So…have you heard anything from Liam?”
“No. And I don’t expect to. I was quite clear in my letter that I only wanted to be friends.”
“Is that what you really want?” Emberly’s voice had softened.
“Yes,” I lied. “It was just a fun fling. Besides, with the new grant proposal I’m working on, I don’t have time to invest in a relationship. I must be entirely focused on that.”
I had been working on a proposal over the last couple of weeks about an invasive species of ant causing environmental problems. If it was approved, I’d receive grant money to form a team to evaluate the ecological impact of said ant and explore ways to negate their damage.
It was perfect to add to my resume.
“Is he coming to the gala?” Emberly asked.
“I don’t know.”
He didn’t typically attend these types of things in the past. I had never seen him there before.
“What will you do if you see him?”
Oh, I don’t know…probably lose my mind and panic.
“I will be myself and—”
“Act professional.” Emberly paused. “May I be frank for a moment?”
“Always.”
“I’m worried about you.”
I pursed my lips. “In what way? Do you still think I’m acting morose?”
“It’s not that. You’re just…different. You’ve fallen back into your former teaching and research routine and thrown yourself into work like you usually do, but your heart doesn’t seem to be in it.”
“Emberly, please. Don’t worry about me. I’m just exhausted from this proposal and my mother has been more difficult than usual.”
“All right,” Emberly acquiesced, but I knew she didn’t believe me. “You’ve got your monthly dinner with her tonight, right?”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“One of these days, you’re going to stand up to her and it’s going to be glorious.”
“Sure. Right.”
We visited a couple of minutes longer before saying our goodbyes. I hung up the phone with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose. My mother had been significantly more difficult since the rescue, upping the pressure of making dean since I didn’t have a ground-breaking discovery.
It was why I was working on this proposal. If it was approved, it would advance my career greatly, which was exactly what I needed. Get this grant, start this project, and my passion would surely come back. The passion I had seemed to have lost since returning. Emberly may have been right…
I made my way back to the table to finish breakfast, when my eyes caught on yesterday’s mail.
I’d been so busy researching these ants and working on my grant, I’d completely forgotten to sort through it.
I almost laughed out loud at myself for the oversight.
It was so unlike me to let my mail pile up. Even for one day.
I flipped through the letters—junk, mostly—until I found one that was different from the others. There was no return address though.
Curious, I broke the seal and unfolded the piece of paper.
I’ll see you at the gala, sunshine.
That was it. No name. No signature. But I didn’t need one. I knew who had sent it.
My boots echoed on the cobblestone street as I strode through town, heading to meet my mother for dinner at our usual place. It was the most upscale restaurant in my town of Honeypoint, and she knew the chef and all the waitstaff, of course.
Only the best for Anya Thornheart.
I turned the corner, keeping my pace casual even though I was running late.
Me, late. A ludicrous notion.
But I had done it on purpose. Just the tiniest way to aggravate my mother. I got a little thrill out of it despite the fact that I knew I’d immediately be berated for my tardiness.
I didn’t care.
With a steadying breath, I adjusted the front of my navy blue cardigan, smoothed my deep brown skirt, and opened the heavy wooden door to the establishment, heading straight for our table.
Because, of course, my mother had a specific table where she demanded to sit and expected it to be ready and waiting for her the moment she arrived.
It was a dark restaurant, lit only by candlelight. Each table had an iron chandelier above it with a dozen tapered candles providing a warm ambiance. The booths were a deep navy velvet and there was minimal art on the dark walls. It was classy. Refined. And in that moment, I realized I hated it.
I took a seat across from my mother, who hadn’t looked up from the menu. Her gray hair was pulled back in its usual severe way and small frameless glasses sat on the tip of her nose. She was dressed impeccably, wearing a deep purple tailored suit.
“Good evening,” I said, trying my best not to fidget.
“It’s nice to see you’ve decided to join me,” she murmured, still studying the menu.
I ignored the jab, not rising to the bait. The waiter approached and I ordered a glass of wine, when I realized I actually wanted a beer. Why? It reminded me of Liam.
Oh gods, I’m pathetic.
My mother continued scanning the menu. She didn’t need it. She ordered the same thing every time. But I knew she was doing it to punish me for making her wait.
The waiter approached again and my mother set it down. “The usual, Doctor Thornheart?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.” She didn’t even glance his way.
He turned to me. “What about you, Doctor Thornheart? Would you like your usual?”
I met his eyes and gave him a genuine smile. Something else that would irritate my mother. Apparently, I was feeling feisty tonight. “Actually, I’d like to try today’s special. And please, call me Cerise.”
He grinned. “Very well, Cerise.”
After collecting our menus, he disappeared.
I turned to my mother, meeting her shocked expression. She didn’t comment on how I insisted he call me by my first name, or the way I had been friendly. No, her eyes caught on something else. Her brow furrowed. I braced myself, gripping my napkin.
“What on earth did you do to your hair?” Her eyes raked over me.
“I didn’t do anything to it. I’m just wearing it down.”
“Why would you do something like that?”
Because Liam likes it.
“I just wanted something different for once.” I took a sip of wine, my heart racing.
I felt like a defiant teenager, and though part of me was thrilled at her reaction, the rest of me was fighting the urge to acquiesce, pull my hair back, and assume the role of Anya Thornheart’s perfect daughter.
While I wasn’t ready to stand up to her—the thought utterly terrified me, she was still my mother, after all—these subtle rebellions made me feel better. Like I had a semblance of control with her. So if that was all I could muster up the courage to do, it would be enough for now.
It felt silly that at thirty-five years old, I still couldn’t stick up for myself when it came to her. But she was the only family I had. No father. No siblings. There was no one else. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to face the consequences of setting strict boundaries with her quite yet.
No matter your age, the desire for the unconditional love of your mother would always run deep.
Even if you set boundaries, cut off contact, and healed yourself, the scars would remain.
Deep and jagged and picked raw every time you thought of her; each time you witnessed a nurturing mother with her own child; every time an event happened in your life where she should be present and supportive.
I took another sip of wine, trying to focus on the conversation.
“Something different? I swear, Cerise, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Ever since your rescue, you’ve been…unruly.”
I almost snorted at the comment. Wearing my hair down was unruly? If only she knew how ‘unruly’ I’d been, splayed out on the side of that grotto while Liam worshiped me with his tongue.
Now is not the time to be thinking of that, Cerise, I chastised myself.
My mother continued, “Where has your professionalism gone? Your best friend is receiving an award next week which means you should be working even harder on your own career, or she’ll surely surpass you.”
What a ludicrous notion. I didn’t care if Emberly ‘surpassed’ me. In fact, I hoped she did. I loved her and was elated for her success. I would never resent her for her own accomplishments. She deserved every bit of recognition for her discovery.
“I have that proposal. I’ll be presenting it to the board in a couple of weeks.”
My mother took a sip of her own wine. One glass only. It would be highly inappropriate for her to be even the least bit tipsy.
Well, now I have the biggest urge to get blazingly drunk. Rebellious teenager, indeed.
“That proposal must go well. Would you like me to look over it?”
Usually, I took her up on her offers to help. As condescending as she was, she was brilliant and gave excellent feedback. But I didn’t want her help this time.
“No, thank you. I’m feeling quite confident about it.”
“All right then. I look forward to hearing the results.”
Our food was delivered. My mother’s salmon salad and my steak with roasted potatoes and asparagus, topped with a rich, hearty sauce.
She glanced pointedly at my plate, but didn’t say anything about my choice in food, much to my relief.
Instead, she brought up a different topic.
One that made me want to crawl beneath the table and scream.
“When was the last time you saw Ambrose?” she asked.
Oh, now she remembers his name?
“I haven’t even spoken with him since we broke up. You know that. Why do you ask?”
She speared a piece of lettuce onto her fork. “Well, as you know, I’ve been consulting at his university. When he heard you went missing, he was devastated. Worried about you.”
I hardly believed that. “And?”
She ate a bite daintily, careful not to smudge her perfect mauve lipstick. “I think he misses you, Cerise. Perhaps it would be good for you to talk to him. Try to work things out.”
“What? No. Absolutely not.”
“Because you’re still pining over that rogue, Doctor Pendragon?”
“No. Because Ambrose was emotionally abusive, mother.”
It was the first time I’d said those words out loud since Liam pointed it out to me. But I had thought a lot about what he said. It was, without a doubt, true. And as evidenced by the fact that Ambrose punched a wall, I had left not a moment too soon.
She scoffed. “Emotionally abusive. For goodness’ sake. He’s particular about his things, just like you. It’s the perfect fit.”
“But I don’t make people feel poorly about themselves when they don’t live up to my peculiarities.”
“You are so sensitive, Cerise. I swear I didn’t raise you to be this way. You can’t even handle criticism without interpreting it as an attack or abuse.”
The hand holding my fork trembled as I tried to remain calm.
“Ambrose has been asking about you. So I promised him you’d talk to him.”
“You what?” I whispered, but not quietly enough. Several people seated nearby turned their heads with curiosity.
“At the gala. He’ll be there, of course. If you insist on gallivanting around with a man, then it must be someone like him. Intelligent, sophisticated, handsome.”
I was frozen in shock, my stomach churning. “I’m not having a conversation with him about us at the gala. I’m not having a conversation with him at all. There’s nothing to talk about,” I gritted out.
“Well, I guess dinner will be awkward, then. Since I arranged the seating chart to ensure you sat next to each other.”
I was speechless. My mother had gone too far.
This was bad. This was absolutely, utterly, positively, terrible.
And Liam was going to be there.