Last Summer
The girl who stepped out of the tree was older than I’d anticipated, around twelve or thirteen.
Well, if she’d been human. Who knew how dryads aged?
She had brown eyes, brown skin, and her hair was mostly brown with a little green on the ends.
Was that natural? It was a kick-ass dye job if not.
She was wearing an outfit I remembered seeing on Dimi Costa a time or two.
I hoped that meant she’d changed when she got here, not that she hadn’t had any clothes at all.
Her eyes caught on Ms. Jackson, who had somehow materialized a crown of flowers on their head. I rubbed my eyes. This had better not be a dream. I was gonna be so pissed if this was a dream.
“Hey, how do you feel?” Rory’s voice was hushed, as if he didn’t want to startle the girl.
She whipped her head around, then walked over and threw her arms around him. Rory hugged her close. I may or may not have covered my mouth with my hands at the cuteness. Who knew Rory had any parental skills?
The girl eventually pulled away from him, and Ms. Jackson was there next to her, waiting for their own hug, which they got.
When the girl stepped back from Ms. Jackson, Rory gestured at me. “Hey, Pia, I want you to meet my friend Manny. I’ve known him since I was a teenager, and he used to take care of Shane’s grandmother before she passed away. He’s never met a dryad before.”
I waved. “Hey, Pia. I like your outfit. Shane’s granny would get a kick out of you wearing it.”
She awarded me a small smile and a little wave of her own.
Shane asked, “Are you hungry or thirsty? I’m sorry I’m not up on dryad nutrition.” Good boy, Shane.
Pia shrugged, but Rory said, “She needs water, and she likes eggs and bacon if you have any left.” What? Exactly how long had Rory known this kid?
Shane smiled. “Sure. Come on into the house and we’ll get you set up. You want to take a shower?”
Pia’s eyes widened in alarm. “No!” She turned her head toward the apple tree like she was considering going back in. Oh, shit.
Ms. Jackson rubbed their head against Pia’s shoulder and made a weird grumbling sound. Pia gripped their fur with one hand. Based on the helpless looks Rory was exchanging with Shane and Ellis, I needed to intervene.
I put on my most cheerful persona, the one that came in handy at the hospital. “Showers are overrated. But, gurrl, you need a hairbrush bad. And Rory needs to change his clothes. It looks like he slept in them.”
She didn’t respond, just stared at me as if she’d never had a fabulous gay bestie before. She did allow me to take her free hand though. I turned to the others. “Shane, you got a spare hairbrush?”
“Sure. Granny’s stuff is in the dresser in the guest bedroom. Top drawer.”
“Sweet. Pia, Shane’s granny had a hairbrush made out of silver. It’s really cool. Ms. Jackson, do you like to be brushed?”
Ms. Jackson made a questioning noise, and I overemoted a gasp. “You’ve never been brushed? Pia, come on, we’ve got to show Ms. Jackson how it’s done.” I started walking toward the house. She walked with me and didn’t remove her hand from mine. Ms. Jackson guarded her other side.
I took her into Dimi’s old bedroom. It was clean, if a little musty.
“Let’s find that brush.” It was right where Shane had said it would be.
“Ms. Jackson, you wanna sit on the bed for this? It’ll be easier to reach you.
” The tiger-creature jumped up, barely mussing the coverlet when they landed.
They arranged themself in a sitting position near the foot of the bed.
I held the brush up. “What about you, Pia? Do you want to brush your own hair or do you want me to do it?”
She sat down next to Ms. Jackson and grabbed a handful of fur. Then she leaned her head forward as if inviting me to use the brush.
“Great. You don’t have nearly as much hair as Ms. Jackson.” But she needed to wash it badly. I didn’t comment, just started from the ends and worked my way up. It was an improvement at least.
“Okay, Ms. Jackson’s turn!” I decided to treat Ms. Jackson like a big housecat and started on the side of their neck.
After the first pass with the brush, they leaned into the bristles.
I winked at Pia. “I guess twigs in your hair are a hazard of being a dryad, but tigers don’t have the same excuse.
” She giggled a little, which was a huge relief.
Pia took a turn brushing Ms. Jackson’s side and tail. I decided I’d bring up her getting clean once, then I’d drop it. “Hey, Pia. I get what you’re saying on the shower thing, but eventually you’ll need to wash up. What’s your stance on baths? Maybe with bubbles?”
“Bubbles are good,” she said. I almost cheered when she spoke. But she followed it with, “Then no one could see me.”
I kept my cool. This wasn’t my first rodeo with an abuse victim. Inside I was raging, but Pia would never know. I affected a nonchalant but friendly tone. “Did Randolph Chamberlain watch you take a shower? That’s creepy.”
“No. I mean, he turned the hose on me every few days, but I still had my pajamas on. I just didn’t like being stared at all the time.”
“Bastard.” Okay, that slipped out accidentally. I schooled my expression and pointed at what Pia was doing. “Look, Ms. Jackson really likes being brushed under their chin.”
She kept her gaze on the tiger. “He and his friends would come look at me. He didn’t let me have a blanket or a tree.
I was so cold. And I missed my mom.” She dropped the brush onto the bed and threw her arms around Ms. Jackson.
I met the tiger’s eyes, and we came to a mutual understanding of Randolph Chamberlain’s impending destruction.
I rubbed Pia’s back until her tears stopped. My gaze caught on Dimi’s dresser. If I recalled correctly, she’d had a big collection of costume jewelry. Nothing lifted the spirits like a little bling.
When Pia sat up and gave me an apologetic smile, I held up a finger.
“Hang on. I want to look for something. It’ll be gorgeous on Ms. Jackson.
” I went over to the dresser and pulled open the second drawer.
Yes! Found it on the first try. I opened the ancient silk-covered box and picked up the rhinestone tiara. “Check it out!”
Pia gave a small squeal. “Ms. Jackson! You need to wear that!”
I handed her the tiara, and she made a production of positioning it on Ms. Jackson’s head. The crown of flowers had vanished.
After checking the length of Pia’s hair, I held up a long rhinestone necklace. “Pia, what do you think about braiding this into your hair? You and Ms. Jackson can match.”
Her smile was bigger than any I’d seen so far.