Chapter 8
Maple
I could not figure out what Cade Sonnenberg wanted from me.
That was the thing driving me absolutely insane. He wanted something. People always wanted something. That was the fundamental rule of Maple Brooks’s life, established early and confirmed repeatedly: nobody showed up for free. There was always a price tag. Always a reason. You just had to find it.
So what was his reason?
I had given him every hint available. I had told him directly, on multiple occasions, in clear sentences using small words, that we were done.
I had given him a broom. I had spilled coffee on his freshly mopped floor.
I had agreed to give him the role of Aurelia Maplewood, Keeper of the Autumn Leaves, despite knowing what exactly that entailed.
And I was determined to make a few changes to the character of Aurelia.
Maybe I’d give him a few more lines to work with, add a few moves for his character, and make him twirl a little.
Afterall, he volunteered for the role. How could I disappoint him?
I told Cade I would be making a few changes to the character of the Oak Fairy, and instead of worrying about how much more embarrassing it would become, all he had to say was — “Whatever needs to be done, Maple.”
Why was he acting so nice? What did he want from me?
The only explanation I could land on was that he realized I was such a great fuck that he didn’t want to lose it.
Not to brag, but we were genuinely very good together in bed.
Like, remarkably good. Like, the kind of good that could make a man temporarily lose his grip on reality and convince himself he had feelings when really he just had a very good thing going and didn’t want to lose access to it.
That had to be it.
Because the alternative — the alternative where he actually meant the things he was doing every day and it wasn’t a strategy and he genuinely, actually loved me — that alternative required me to trust something again.
And I had tried that. I had let my guard down for the first time in years, and I knew exactly how that had ended.
I was not doing it again.
What I was doing was making absolutely sure that this fairy costume reached its full devastating potential.
Because if Cade Sonnenberg wanted to insert himself into my professional life and my children’s festival and my every single morning, then he was going to do it as Aurelia Maplewood, Keeper of the Autumn Leaves, in front of the entire town of Chestnut Ridge.
Including, I had recently learned, his parents, who were back from the Middle East and were the guests of honor.
Excellent.
“Okay,” I said to the kids. “Today is Aurelia Maplewood’s first costume fitting.”
Eleven faces turned to me with immediate, complete attention. This was the most engaged the group had been since the first day.
“The costume is on the table,” I said. “And I need it dusted with glitter.”
Devon’s hand shot up. “How much glitter?”
“I have always told you to go easy on the glitter,” I said.
“Yeah—“
“Not today.”
A pause. Then the room erupted.
“WAIT—“
“ARE YOU SERIOUS—“
“ALL OF IT?”
“As much as you want,” I said. “Every inch.”
I had never seen those kids move that fast in my life. Three weeks of trying to get them to hit their marks on time and today they were at that table in approximately four seconds.
Nancy appeared at my elbow.
She looked at the kids. She looked at the costume. She looked at me sideways.
“Why are you doing this to that poor man?”
“He deserves it.”
Nancy was quiet for a moment. She watched Devon and Marcus fighting over the gold glitter versus the orange glitter. Then she patted my shoulder.
“I don’t know what he did,” she said. “But Maple — if a man is willing to wear that thing in front of the entire town of Chestnut Ridge? I’d give him a second chance. I’m just saying.”
“Nancy—“
“You’re choosing not to see it.” She shrugged. “Everyone else can. He loves you. It’s very obvious.” She paused. “Unless he cheated on you, in which case, glitter away, go nuts, I support you fully.”
“He didn’t cheat on me.”
“Then—“
The door opened.
Cade came in. He was in a good jacket today, which I noted with some satisfaction given what was about to happen to his morning.
“Good morning, Nancy.” He smiled.
He had a beautiful smile, if I were being honest.
Then he looked at me. “Good morning, Maple.” His voice dropped slightly, the way it did when he was talking to just me. “You look beautiful today.”
I looked at him flatly. “Thank you. You’ll look beautiful too.” I gestured toward the table where eleven children were absolutely losing their minds over a pile of craft glitter. “We’re putting the final touches on Aurelia’s costume.”
He looked over. “Aurelia who?”
I looked at him. “You forgot already? Maybe you were too caught up in the moment when you volunteered. Maybe the words just came out.” I paused. “Maybe you didn’t mean what you said. Again.”
He held my gaze. “I meant it. I didn’t know the name was Aurelia. Nice name.”
“Right.” I nodded toward the table. “Then go and say hello to your costume.”
He walked over. I watched his face.
The costume was laid out on the table in its full glory.
The bright orange tutu — re-ordered by me in an adult size Large — was currently receiving a second full coating of gold glitter from Devon, who was applying it with focused generosity.
The leaf-green leotard bodysuit was next to it.
Two of the boys had taken particular creative interest in applying the glitter strategically on the crotch of the costume and were very pleased with their work.
Cade looked at the costume.
Then he looked at the boys.
Then he started clapping.
“Outstanding work,” he said. He pointed at the bodysuit. “And gentlemen? I see what you did there. That is very creative placement. Very thematic.”
The boys collapsed with laughter.
“The glitter—“ He looked at Blessing, who stopped mid-application of an entire fistful of glitter on the acorn hat. “Is that three coats?”
Blessing held up four fingers.
“Four.” Cade nodded seriously. “Good call.”
I gritted my teeth.
“So that’s the costume,” I said, from across the room.
He turned around. “Yes. I see that.”
“It also pairs with the acorn hat. A sparkly orange wand. And orange flat shoes.”
“Great.”
“They’re women’s size ten.”
“I’ll make it work.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” I asked. “Because it’s okay if you want to back out. You can back out. I’m used to you backing out.”
He looked at me. Then he came over to me, and stood right in front of me.
“Maple.” He said in a lower register, soft enough that the kids couldn’t hear him.
“I’m not here to back out of anything.” He said it simply, without drama.
“I’m here because I made a stupid, cowardly mistake and I want to spend however long it takes making up for it.
” He glanced at Nancy, who was making absolutely no effort to look like she wasn’t trying to listen. “I’m not going anywhere, Maple”
Nancy gave him a double thumbs up.
I gave Nancy a look that communicated my feelings about the double thumbs up.
Nancy remembered she had something urgent to do with the kids and immediately went to go do it.
Cade smiled. “So.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
He emerged from the changing room four minutes later.
The leotard was — there is no kind way to say this — extremely figure-hugging on a six-foot-two, broad-chested man. The orange tutu sat at approximately upper thigh level. The glitter was everywhere. His shoulders, his arms, and his crotch.
He walked out like he was walking into a board meeting.
The kids lost it completely.
“OKAY,” he said, over the noise, completely unbothered. “I need everyone to take a breath, because we have six weeks and I need to know the full sequence.” He looked at me. “Walk me through it.”
I stared at him for a moment.
Then I walked him through it.
“You’ll be on the platform behind the tree before the curtain opens,” I said. “When the music hits the second verse, Marcus activates the pulley and you’re lowered. The descent takes about fifteen seconds.”
“In front of the audience the whole time?”
“From the moment the curtain opens.”
“Got it.” He nodded. “What else?”
“You hold the wand up during the descent. Like this.” I demonstrated.
He demonstrated back. Wand up, completely straight-faced, in the tutu.
“And there’s a song,” I said.
“Right.”
“Three lines. You sing them while you’re being lowered. In a squeaky voice.”
“Squeaky,” he repeated.
“Aurelia Maplewood, Keeper of the Autumn Leaves, has a squeaky voice.”
He accepted this information with a nod. “What are the lines?”
I handed him the card.
He read it. Something moved across his face very fast and then disappeared.
“Out loud,” I said. “Let’s hear it.”
He cleared his throat. He looked at the card. In a voice that can only be described as a man doing his sincere best at squeaky, he sang:
“I am the light of the autumn tree, I bring the gold leaves, wild and free, Chestnut Ridge, your fairy is me!”
Every single child in the room screamed with laughter. Devon was on the floor. Marcus had tears going down his face.
Cade waited for the noise to die down.
“Again?” he said to me.
“Again,” I said.
He did it again. Same commitment. Same squeaky voice. The kids lost their minds a second time and he waited it out with a patience that was irritating the hell out of me now.
I stood across the studio in my professional capacity and thought about the last time I had seen Cade Sonnenberg. Not here. Not in the tutu. At his fall party. In that world, surrounded by those people. The Cade who had cared more than his life about his parents’ opinions.
He knew his parents would be the guest of honor.
He knew they would be sitting in the front row next week watching their son being lowered from a mechanical oak tree in an orange tutu singing about autumn leaves in a squeaky voice in front of the entire town.
Why, I thought. Why is he doing this.
What did he want so badly that he was willing to stand here glittered from head to toe singing three ridiculous lines in a voice that would live in these children’s memories forever?
What was worth this?
Nancy was suddenly in the doorway, out of breath.
“Maple.” Her voice was different. “River’s school is on the landline. The principal wants to see you right away.”
Everything else left my head immediately. The first thought that came to my mind was something happened to River.
I crossed the room in four steps and picked up the phone.
And the voice on the other end told me exactly what I had been most afraid of hearing.
All the blood left my face.
***