Fertile Valley 14-16

14 Cakewalk Into Town

I headed into town on foot, savoring the walk and the wind teasing the bill of my blue trucker hat. Without Fierce Boy, the walk was about ten percent lonelier than it could have been, but I was in a good enough mood to push that feeling aside and focus on the day ahead of me.

It wasn’t long before I started to see familiar faces about town. Several folks who I barely knew greeted me as I walked down Main Street cheerily. A woman I recognized as Missy’s mom walked into Yvette’s with Liz Luna, Bob, and Candy.

“I guess that means the Everything Store is closed for lunch,” I sighed, but it wasn’t so bad. It just meant my pub pizza lunch was coming before the shopping trip, and it also meant that I’d have an opportunity to mingle with my neighbors.

Walking down the street, I made a beeline toward the entrance to Yvette’s and pushed the glass door open, heading inside.

“Got any ID?” a husky female voice greeted me teasingly, and I instantly burst into a single barking laugh.

“When’s the last time you had to ask someone that question in a town where you know literally everyone?” I said, smiling at the bar owner.

“A goddamn long time.” Yvette Clarkson was now a gray-haired woman in her mid-ffifties by now, and who’d aged a bit more than the town’s average by that age. Even so, she was, like everyone else in Mineral Village, pretty to the point of confusion for her age. There were subtle crow’s feet under her eyes, and she dressed in a loose-fitting red and black men’s flannel button-up that didn’t do wonders to flatter her figure, but she had a soft, comforting look to her that made me instantly feel at home.

This was despite the fact that Yvette and I had interacted only a handful of times when I grew up. After seeing her at the funeral, I later realized I knew her daughter, Cindy, a little better. It was kind of hard to forget someone both that cute and that low energy. Even now, she was sitting behind the bar with her head resting on her arms, fast asleep.

Yvette took three steps to break from her group and greeted me with a hug like we’d been family all along. I couldn’t stop myself from hugging her back, and I admit I smiled when I felt her kiss me on the cheek as she pulled away. “Oh, Peter,” she sighed. “Do you even remember me?”

“Sure, I do,” I said. “I mean—I didn’t get to visit you much because you were always in here, and grandpa never brought me by, but I remember you.”

She frowned at the mention of my grandfather, but it was fleeting. Smiling again, albeit sadly, she said, “He’d be so happy to know you came back.”

“I like to think so, too,” I said.

She cupped her hands on my cheek like she was my grandma, then pecked my forehead before turning around on her heel. A large, chunky gray braid nearly swiped me in the face, the movement had been so quick and abrupt.

“Cindy, wake up, you lazy sack of shit!” Yvette shouted, striking a tone that I suddenly remembered from the few times I saw her at events like the Fourth of July Fireworks atop Harvest Hill.

Cindy, whose hair was bleached blonde, but with slightly tanned skin, suddenly jerked awake, rubbing her pale green eyes. Her gorgeous face hardly came as a surprise, but what stood out to me was that, even from across the bar, I could see how thick her sweeping lashes were as she blinked herself awake. “Wh-what?” she murmured. “Sorry. Just didn’t sleep much last night, ma.”

“Bullcrap. You sleep more hours than anyone else in the contiguous United States,” Mayor Luna laughed, then fired me a friendly wink as I took the table next to her and Mrs. Sanford.

“Be a patriot. It’s a beautiful country for sleeping in,” Cindy mumbled with a punctuating yawn. She sat up straight and stretched nice and big so that her oversized gray hoodie somehow managed to strain against her body. “Why did you wake me up, ma?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re at work?” Yvette asked sarcastically.

“Yeah,” Cindy said, already breaking into a fresh yawn. “Shoot. I’m so sleepy.”

“Look who just walked in the door!” Chelsea Sanford said with a laugh. “Didn’t you used to play together?”

Honestly, I had all but forgotten about Cindy, but seeing her again, it was starting to come back to me. We never spent much time together, but there would occasionally be big village-wide events for the kids, or all the important folks in town would have a meeting or something. On those occasions, all the kids would end up intermingling. Whenever I saw Cindy, she was either sleeping or soon to be asleep.

Cindy’s eyes opened about ten percent wider as she looked at me. They were still more than half-closed, so I couldn’t make out the hearts in them. “Hi, Peter. Do you wanna order something?”

I beamed at her. “Yep. Get me whatever’s on tap and a meat lover's pub pizza, if you please.”

She looked at me blankly for a minute before sighing and yawning. “I guess that means I need to do some work.”

“Damn straight you do, you lazy sack,” Yvette muttered. “I’ll get his beer, you hop to the kitchen.” Cindy waddled behind the bar into the cooking area, and Yvette returned moments later with my beer. I thanked her for it and smiled as she sat down at the table where Liz and Mrs. Sanford had parked.

The three women, all veritable milfs in their own right, turned their bodies in unison to face me. I smiled back at them. “I feel like I’m finally a man now, getting to sit in this bar by myself after all these years.”

Yvette laughed at that and shook her head. “Easily the tamest way I’ve ever made a boy into a man.”

Mrs. Sanford shoved Yvette, gasping in shock. “Yvette! Be decent! The poor boy just got into town, and you’re already going full-cougar!” I could hear Cindy behind the bar faking a gagging sound, but it was half-hearted.

“Cougars are my favorite animal,” I said, smirking. “And you’re Missy’s mom, right?” I said, turning to Mrs. Sanford and offering my hand in greeting. “I was at Sunrise just the other day. Beautiful studio.”

She took it and smiled. “Thank you. We do our best. Missy was so happy to find out you were staying in town, Pete. I guess she’s staying at Darlene’s trailer by your lot now.”

I shrugged. “How do you feel about that? To be clear, I didn’t ask her to do that, it was voluntary on her part.”

She chewed on her lip, her eyes looking up at the ceiling fan as she considered the question. “Well, it’s for the good of the village. Liz here told me not to fight that, and I do think it’s important to see the village prosper again. If Missy can help you toward your purpose, then great. Just—don’t break her heart. I can tell she’s nursing a crush on you.”

Hearing her say that made me pay attention to the hearts in her eyes. Both her and Yvette were sporting Blue Hearts, which meant that they were friendly to me but not harboring any feelings or profound attraction at the moment. I figured that was good—I already had my hands full without worrying about them.

“I’m trying my best to be considerate of everyone,” I said, not sure what else to offer.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been quite the chick magnet,” Yvette said, lips upturned with amusement, like she was making a naughty observation. “Darlene and Missy both seem quite thrilled to be near you whenever they get a chance.”

“And then there’s my Queenie,” Liz finally inserted herself back into the conversation. “No one’s happier to see Pete than her, let me tell you.”

“I’ll bet,” Mrs. Sanford chuckled. “I remember her crying for days every time he left town at the end of summer.”

I blinked rapidly, taken back to hear that. “She did?”

Chelsea Sanford nodded, eyes wide. “Oh, literally every summer! Since you were, say, seven years old or so!”

Liz fired a disapproving look at her. “Chelsea, that’s not really your place to say.”

I thought I felt bad before, but now I felt like shit. I had no idea just how strongly Queenie’s feelings had always run for me. I fought back the impulse to question everything I knew about our relationship in that moment. I had to be a participant in this conversation after all.

And we continued to chat. It was honestly nice. Eventually, Bob and Candy scooted their chairs a bit closer to join the conversation.

“What time are you two heading back to the shop?” I asked.

“Oh?” Bob grunted, his caterpillar-thick eyebrow raising. “If you want to get some shopping done, Courtney is watching the till for us.”

“Courtney’s Book Corner Courtney?” I asked. “That one?”

Candy snickered and said, “The very same. The bookstore and library aren’t very busy these days, so she helps us out from time to time.”

“I see,” I said, but before I could add anything else, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision caught my eye. I turned my head to see Yvette’s sleepy daughter slothfully dragging her way toward me with a pub pizza—which was frankly huge, but I knew I could top it off if I put my mind to it.

“Here you go,” she said, yawning. “Do you need a refill on your beer?”

“No thanks,” I said. “You can get back to your nap.”

“Oh, thank the Goddess,” she muttered.

Yvette looked at me, unamused. “Don’t encourage her.”

I laughed. “I think it’s a funny quirk. Kind of charming.”

She groaned and clicked her tongue. “She’ll never find a husband at this rate. You know, she slept through her last three dates?”

I blinked in surprise. “Have you had her checked out by a doctor?”

“Oh, a dozen times,” Yvette growled. “She’s just lazy.”

I wolfed down my pizza—it was actually great. Lazy though the girl may be, she did know how to put together a proper pub pizza, that was for sure.

With some friendly goodbyes, I excused myself from the pub, but Bob rose to go with me, grabbing his wife’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, let me walk Pete over to the store. Courtney might not be able to answer all his questions.”

“Suit yourself, Bobby,” Candy said, and she puckered for a kiss. Bob bent down and smooched her, then turned to me.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“We shall,” I said, making a sweeping bow and gesturing toward the door.

With a shared chuckle, we headed out, and it wasn’t a long walk. Even so, Bob seemed eager to fill the silence. “What kind of things are you looking to buy?”

“Farm stuff. I also need to place an order for some lumber, nails—things like that.”

“Building something?”

I beamed, thinking of Kylie Ann. “A new chicken coop, actually. The old one is rotted and not big enough for what I have in mind for the long term. Also grandpa let the chickens be full free range, but I want to fence in a sizable chicken run since I’m looking into some more expensive chicken breeds.”

“Ohh! That’s fun. I can also help you order chicken and other livestock. I know some suppliers.”

I nodded. “Perfect. Uh—you know Kylie Ann Luna, right?”

“Sure, of course!” he said. “Absolute sweetheart. One of the cutest kids you’ll meet.”

I had to stop myself from preening a little as though the compliment were meant for me. “Right,” I said. “She told me there’s this kind of chicken that’s all black—with, like, black bones and insides and everything.”

“Hmm,” he muttered. “You want some of those? Seems…unnecessary.”

I chuckled. “Maybe just one to start. If it’s possible.”

“I can look into it. I’m sure someone sells them, but it may be a couple hundred miles from here.”

“I can handle the drive,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, no. They’ll deliver, I’m sure. Welp, here we are.”

With our short walk completed, Bob opened the door and I followed him inside. The store was just how I remembered it. It really was an ‘Everything’ store. Groceries, stationery, medicine, tools, sporting goods, farming supplies—everything you could reasonably need was packed into a fairly tight little space.

I placed purchases and orders for general supplies, food, furniture including a new bed and bigger couch for my living room, some tools I was missing, and really just about everything else I’d need to get started on home and farm improvement. He jotted it all down. “I suppose I need some seeds for my field,” I said. “What do you got?”

“Tell ya what,” Bob said as he moved away from the 2x4s he’d been showing me and headed behind his counter, then interrupted his train of thought as Courtney took note of us. “Hey, Courtney. You can go back to the bookstore now. Thanks for watching things for me.”

Courtney Beckerson was a pretty brunette in her mid to late thirties with long, wavy hair held back in a blue bandana. She wore thick, silver-framed glasses and a form-hugging cornflower blue summer dress that jutted out a prodigious rack if I’d ever seen one. On her wrist were a couple of scrunchies for her hair, and tall, brown cowgirl boots completed the ensemble.

She smiled at Bob, and then looked at me. “Aww,” she said. “You grew up well, Pete,” she offered as she brushed right past me en route to the exit. “Stop by the bookstore sometime, or the library. I’ve got books on farming I could let you have a look at. Some of them were donated by your grandpa.”

“I may just do that,” I said warmly, trying not to check her out. “Thanks.”

I watched her go for a moment before turning my attention back to Bob. “Sorry, Bob—you were saying?”

“I’ve got a bunch of turnip seeds,” he said. “They’re a great starter crop. They’re real good for conditioning a field—a great spring option if you want.”

“Easy to grow?” I asked.

Bob nodded.

“Well, then, it works for me. But—will that be enough? Is it useful for the community?”

He shook his head. “John and Mayor Luna will help you sell them through your shipping bin, and the money and commerce you bring back into the community will help us all in the short term, regardless of what you choose to grow. Eventually you can diversify your crops, but I think an easy, mono-crop start is the name of the game here, Pete. I don’t want you overwhelmed in your first season.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “I have a lot on my plate, according to You-Know-Who,” nodding at a small statue of the Harvest Goddess in the corner that I’d never noticed as a kid.

He laughed at that. “I’m assuming you don’t mean Voldemort.”

“Indeed I don’t,” I snickered back. “Alright—hook me up with enough turnip seeds to fill my field.”

His eyes widened at the ambitious ask. “You sure you can handle that, though?”

I shrugged and cracked my knuckles, grabbing a paper bag from the counter. “If I can’t, worst case scenario is I let a portion of the field die, right? I’ll try my best and keep what I can.”

“Good strategy,” he admitted, his face looking somewhat impressed. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, I take it?”

“A lot in the short span of time I’ve had to adapt, yes.”

He looked at me intensely for a moment, then leaned in. “There aren’t a lot of adult men left in town, Peter. If you ever need an escape from all the tail that’s liable to be headed your way, swing by. I’ll put Candy on till and we can have a boys’ chat.”

I appreciated that offer. “Surely there’s more than just you and me.”

He let out a raucous laugh. “Oh, there surely is. Definitely a few hangers-on, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think you know many of them. All the boys you grew up with left town and never came back. Some husbands and fathers in the community died or divorced and moved out of town. It can get a bit depressing around here sometimes.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind, Bobbo,” I said, trying out a new nickname. I could tell from the inquisitive arch of his comically thick brow that he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Before he could pass final judgment, I clapped him on the shoulder. “I do appreciate it. Ring me up?”

I bought all the turnip seeds I needed for my field and decided it was time to head back to the farm to drop them off. Maybe tomorrow all the lumber and nails and other junk I’d ordered would show up, delivered by Big John, who was also responsible for checking my shipping bin at the end of each day. I doubted I’d have much for him just yet. 

From there, I figured I’d take Fierce Boy into the valley for some fishing and exploration, then head back by the time school ended for Kylie Ann. If I was lucky, I might be able to have dinner with her and Queenie.

On my way back, I saw a girl I recognized from the funeral crossing the street to leave Courtney’s bookstore, apparently heading toward the flower shop that I noticed on my first night in town.

“Huh,” I grunted. “So she works there.”

When I muttered that, the girl looked my way. She was impossible to forget, as she was the only goth girl in town. She wore black cowgirl boots, a black jean skirt, a black peasant top, and a black cowboy hat atop a pigtailed mane of black hair. Most interestingly, she had a spider necklace and a spiderweb patterned tattoo on her arm.

Despite her intense aesthetic, she smiled meekly at me and slowed to a stop in the middle of the road—which spoke to just how slow this town was, I thought. “Hi,” she said. “Did you, uh, like, say something or whatever?”

“Huh?” I muttered. “Uh—no, no, I’m sorry, just kind of talking to myself.” I nodded at the flower shop. “Is that new?”

“It’s my business,” she said, smiling still. “I ship flowers all over the county. I’m linked to five of the biggest flower farming operations in the region. They mostly ship to big stores, but I do more professional arrangements for, like, weddings and stuff. I, uh—” She bit her lip. “I arranged for your grandpa’s funeral.”

I caught up to her and extended my hand. She shook it  daintily. “I’m Peter Busch-McGinley,” I said. “And you are?”

“Becca Sue MacIntyre,” she answered. “We’ve met before, but you probably don’t, umm, remember me and junk. Do you, like, wanna see my flowers or whatever?”

Indeed, I did not remember her, but I thought it’d be rude to confirm as much. In my defense, she probably wasn’t a goth when we met in childhood.

I took a minute to admire the uniqueness of her aesthetic. She was as pretty as anyone else in town, but for whatever reason, she’d chosen a look that clashed wildly with the rest of the folks out here. Now that I was close to her, I realized she was also wearing red colored contacts—which made it impossible for me to see the hearts in her eyes. In a way, that was kind of nice. I liked not having to think about that for a few minutes.

“I’ll go with you. Just real quick,” I said, beaming. “I’ve got some work to get back to, but you’ve got me curious. Lead the way.”

15 A Long Day

Becca Sue and I got to talking as she showed me around her flower shop, and I slowly put the pieces together as to just who she was. Her family also lived in a trailer on the northern edge of town, like Darlene and Dale used to. I’d seen them on the occasions when I’d been in that side of town, usually to pick up Missy for babysitting, since the two of them were inseparable back then.

Her hair had always been black, so a part of me wondered how I hadn’t pieced it together sooner. The even bigger clue was that there had been a flower garden surrounding the MacIntyre family trailer.

“I know you probably shouldn’t be growing many flowers on your farm, since you have a mission from the Harvest Goddess and whatever,” she said. “But if you’ve ever got someone you want to give flowers to, well at least now you know where to go.”

“Indeed I do,” I said. “You’re a short walk from my property, too.” I studied her black-lipstick smile for a moment and thought. “Hmm. As a matter of fact, could I get two bouquets? One smaller, and one bigger?”

She arched a brow at me and nodded. “Of course. What kind of flowers do you want in them?”

I shrugged and transitioned that sloppy gesture into a roll of my shoulders. “I dunno. Do I look like a flower expert?”

Becca Sue eyed me up and down with an impish smirk, taking in my outfit, which was a blue trucker hat, a red bandana tied around my neck, blue denim overalls, and black work boots. “Honestly? Kinda.”

“Oh shit, that’s fair,” I said, laughing at myself. “Well, I’m a poser, then, I guess.”

“Everybody has a day one, Pete,” she said, turning around and tossing a wink over her shoulder as she did. Then she turned her focus to her flowers and grabbed a pair of scissors. “Any specific color you want to dominate the display?”

“Well, let’s go with a lot of red roses for the big one,” I said. “For the little one, just a lot of pretty colors.” I paused. “On second thought, get me two more rose bouquets as well.”

“Wow, wherefore art thou, Romeo?” she teased me. “Someone’s looking for love rather aggressively.”

“Between you and me,” I muttered, “it’s kind of my job.”

She fired a quizzical smirk my way but offered no additional comment while she put the arrangements together. After a while, the quiet, save for the rustling of parchment paper as she wrapped the bouquets, got to be a bit too heavy for my liking, and I had to fill the silence.

“So, I just met Yvette’s daughter for the first time since I was probably eighteen or so. Never saw her much even back in the day.”

“Ahh, Cindy. The drowsy pub princess.”

“An apt descriptor, I suppose. Why’s she like that?”

She shrugged. “Always has been. Funny thing is when we were in school one time, I remember we had a field trip, and Big John and Mayor Luna drove us out of town to see a museum a few towns over.”

I nodded, watching her finalize the bouquets as she continued.

“Anyway, she, like, was awake all day, like a normal person, but the second we rolled back into the valley, she was out like a light again.”

“So you think, what, the magic of the valley makes her sleepy?”

She snorted a bit, then blew a stray black bang out of her face. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. Maybe she was just too excited to be out of town for a change. But the weird thing is she had no memory of ever leaving the next day.”

“Spooky,” I said, making jazz hands with my fingers.

She let out a musical laugh at that, which made me smile. “All done,” she said, handing me a veritable bouquet of bouquets. “Let’s settle the payment at the front.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, flipping through bills with a playful grimace. “Can’t believe you conned me into buying four bouquets on our first meeting.”

Becca Sue giggled and played with a lock of her hair. “Lucky girls,” she commented.

I looked up at her, smiling as I handed her the money the invoice said I owed. “Hmm?”

“The girls you’re giving those flowers to. I’m kind of jealous.”

“Ahh, don’t be,” I said, winking as I took the flowers and headed for the door. “I’m insufferable.”

I decided to call Queenie to see if she was around for me to deliver my gift to her before heading back to my own farm. The phone rang twice before she answered.

“Hey, Pete,” she said.

“Hey, Queenie,” I replied, grinning. “Any chance I could stop by really quickly?”

She paused, and the silence, though brief, wiped the smile off my face. “Now’s probably not the best time.”

“Why?” I asked. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just that Kylie Ann had a really bad morning at school and I had to pick her up.”

I stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of Main Street, turning my head to look in the direction of Queenie’s home. “What happened?”

“Leah mentioned her father in class, and Kylie Ann blurted out that you’re her daddy. The other kids started asking her lots of questions about that, and she got frustrated when she didn’t know any answers and started crying. She couldn’t calm down for an hour, so they called me in to pick her up. She’s resting now, and I’m planning to just kind of pamper her tonight and give her some space.”

“Maybe I should come over,” I suggested. “I’m in town.”

“I’d love that, but how about we do breakfast tomorrow? She’s still a bit emotional. I think she does want to see you, but I’m not sure it’d be the best for her right this second.”

“Breakfast works for me,” I said, nodding despite no one being around to see me do so. “Take care of her.”

She giggled. “Always, Petey. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Likewise.”

I ended the call there and let out a heavy sigh before turning my body back in the direction of my farm. A part of me thought about heading to Courtney’s Book Corner to get more properly acquainted with her, but I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself, walking in with four bouquets.

When I reached my farm, Fierce Boy barked happily in greeting and rushed to see me, tail wagging excitedly as Darlene strolled over behind him. “What’s going on with the flowers?”

I handed one of the bouquets to her. “I met Becca Sue in town and thought I’d support her business while picking up something nice for you girls.”

Darlene took the gift, her eyes widening as her pale cheeks went red. “For me?” she asked, half-gasping. “I don’t think a boy’s ever given me flowers even once.”

“Well you’re in good company then, because a boy has never given me flowers either,” I said. I looked around. “Where’d Missy run off to?”

“She ran home to use her mother’s oven to bake something for snacks tonight,” Darlene said, collecting herself. “Honestly, Pete, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” I told her. “Thanks for everything. It’s nice not doing this all on my own.”

She nodded and bit her lip as she studied the bouquet. “That’s a lot of roses,” she commented. “I’m going to need to use my Florida Georgia Line thermos as a vase, I think. All my display jars are full.”

Level 4 Achieved! Choose a perk!

• Gift Giver– Your romantic gestures involving gifts grant you a temporary boost to your luck in the valley depending how well-received the gift is.

• Extra Inches – Your penis grows by two inches.

I can’t tell you how hard it was to maintain the flow of things with Darlene while surreptitiously choosing option 1. My massive penis was already such a tremendous burden.

Pushing onward like nothing had just happened, I gestured to my land. “It’s not that late yet, but I think I’m done for the day. I didn’t technically achieve all that much, but I feel as though it was a good start. I think I’ve got a fire pit out behind the cabin. Wanna cook some hot dogs with me? I picked up some stuff from Bob and Candy’s.”

She watched with amusement as I pulled a few large grocery bags out of the yellow backpack that Kylie Ann gave me. “Look at you,” she chuckled. “Practically a local. Sure, I’ll join you. What else would I do?”

I felt a smile curving my lips as I looked into her eyes and noticed something in there that offered me a little surge of hope…Pink hearts. “Hell yeah.”

I grabbed a few logs while Darlene gathered twigs and sticks, and before long we’d built a cozy little teepee of kindling and wood in my grandpa’s—now my—firepit. I pulled my lighter out of my pocket to light the leaves and twigs and get this bad boy started, but as I looked at it, I found myself momentarily dumbstruck.

This same lighter I’d let Tammy borrow after I fucked her in that church bathroom just a few days ago. It felt like a different life. A different me.

Smiling, I crouched down and ignited the fire pit, watching with pride as the dry logs took to the flame like a sponge to water.

“You have no idea who I am,” I said, laughing at myself as I looked up at Darlene. “I’m a trashy person, Darlene. At least I was.”

“No one is themselves outside the valley,” she assured me as she grabbed a patio chair and sat down. “If you were really meant to be here all along, then I imagine it’s been hard for you, being away.”

I felt salty tears stinging the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. “It has been hard. I was like a wrecking ball in that fucking city.”

“Well, you haven’t wrecked anything out here just yet, so that’s a hopeful note, right, Farmer Pete?”

I chuckled at that and stood back up, rolling a larger log over and using it as a seat. I was about to say something witty when I noticed a fit, feminine silhouette making her way toward us. “Hey gal!” Darlene called out, waving her down. “We’re over here!”

“Coming!” Missy called back.

I looked at Darlene pointedly. “Did you talk with her yet?”

“A little,” she said, sighing. “She didn’t seem to have much memory of watching you sleep or spying on you and Queenie, Pete. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t think she’d lie to me.”

That didn’t make sense, but I buried it for now.

When Missy drew closer to us, she was holding a big bowl. “I brought brownies!” she chirped.

The mention of food made me stand up. “Oh! I got you and Darlene some flowers. Here.” I handed the bouquet to her, and she blushed profusely and almost dropped her bowl. She stammered hopelessly, failing to get any words out, so I eventually cut her off. “I bought hot dogs and buns, by the way. Wanna join us for dinner?”

She calmed down with a deep breath of air and nodded slowly. “I’d love to, City Pete,” she gasped, fanning her face with one hand as though the offer was the height of personal honor for her, then accepted my bouquet. She sniffed it so deeply I wondered if she was going to be lightheaded afterwards.

Laughing, I walked over to the patio in front of my cabin and grabbed another chair for her.

“I can take the log,” she offered.

“Nonsense,” I said. “Take the chair, I insist.”

With the ladies situated, we fell into easy conversation. Before I knew it, though, I must have let my guard down and showed something on my face that they didn’t like.

Missy was the one to comment. “You doing alright so far, Petey?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why you ask?”

“Just—you looked kind of sad for a minute there.”

I shook my head almost frantically. “I’m not. I’m really happy so far. But—well, you remember how I told you about Kylie Ann?”

Missy gulped. “That she’s your daughter?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She found out about…that. And it didn’t go over well.”

Darlene’s eyes widened. “Oh, Pete! No! She rejected you?!”

“No, not quite that bad,” I said. “But she is still having a really hard time processing it. She had to go home from school early today.”

“Poor thing,” Missy sighed. “That must be hard to take in for such a little girl.”

“She’s smart,” Darlene noted. “She’ll figure it out. She just needs time.”

“I know,” I agreed. “Still—it doesn’t feel good. She’s over there, and I’m over here. I should be there with her. I have to wait until breakfast tomorrow, I guess.”

“Well breakfast isn’t far away,” Missy noted, nodding at the sunset behind me.

I turned to look at it. “Maybe I should just crash now and sit in bed until it’s time to meet her.”

“You can do what you want,” Darlene remarked, playing with a chunky red braided pigtail. “We can clean up here.”

“No,” I said firmly. “No, I’m just being stupid and sorry for myself. I’m fine. Forget about it.”

Missy smiled softly. “If you say so. I know what’ll help.” She opened the lid on her bowl full of brownies and got out of her chair, walking around the firepit to reach me. I watched her every step of the way, and it was almost like she moved in slow motion.

She knelt down beside my log and touched my face—a soft caress. For whatever reason, I didn’t really react. I just let her do it. Maybe a part of me wanted to be pampered in the way I knew she’d attempt. Maybe my head was too full of other things to worry about the consequences of letting her have her fun.

Darlene also looked on with cautious interest as Missy reached into the bowl and pulled out a brownie.

“Say ‘ahh’, handsome,” Missy said, her voice half a whisper.

I did not say ‘ahh’, but I opened my mouth and let her feed me the brownie. It was almost like the flavor migrated through my sinuses, caressing me from the inside with the bitter sweet touch of chocolate. Believe me when I tell you it was the best goddamned brownie I’d ever had.

I decided to say as much. “This is the best goddamned brownie I’ve ever had,” I muttered as I chewed it, and she giggled in approval.

“You can have as many as you like,” she said. “Forget about your worries. You’re here with me now.”

I nodded despite my better judgment, just wanting to be comforted. It wasn’t even like I was all that worked up or depressed—but she was just so…tempting. Not even just in a sexual way. I wanted to be cared for. I wanted her to take care of me.

“What are you two doing exactly?” Darlene asked, her voice thick with cautious amusement.

“Gawd, shut up, Darlene,” Missy huffed as she grabbed another brownie and turned back to me. “Say ‘ahh’, Petey.”

This time I almost did say it as I let her feed me. As I took the brownie into my mouth, she set the bowl down and covered it, then reached with both hands to touch my face. I realized a second later that she was giving me a temple massage.

“The Harvest Goddess wants this,” she told me. “You know—I think I can be a good woman for you if you let me.”

“...Missy?” Darlene muttered skeptically.

Missy pressed on, ignoring her. “I can cook, clean…suck you, fuck you. Gawd, I’d be such a good wifey, City Pete.”

I looked into her eyes and saw red hearts in them. Red unearned hearts. I did nothing to justify her feeling that way. “I’m not sure you like me, or if you just like what you think I represent,” I said.

“I like you, and I like what you represent,” she whimpered back. She moved her hands from the side of my head down to my chest. “Do you doubt I’d be good to you? I’d be so loyal—so full of love. I want you, Petey. I want your babies in my womb.”

Whatever Darlene was drinking from her thermos, she spit it out then. “Stars and garters, Missy!”

“Shut it, Darlene!” she hissed, then turned back to me, showing a very different face. My eyes drifted to her hair, though, which seemed to be glowing. The hearts in her eyes were flashing between red and purple, and the blue highlight in her hair was…spreading, for lack of a better word. “Marry me, Petey! Marry me and fill me full of your babies!”

Missy crawled in my lap, and I balanced her with my hands on her hips, but when she tried to kiss me, I pulled back, and she relented.

And in that moment it was like someone had splashed her with cold water. Her eyes still showed red hearts, but her face visibly sobered, and she reeled back in shame. “Oh fuck! I’m so sorry!”

Her hair had stopped glowing by then, but where before a single highlight had been blue, now all her hair appeared that hue. “It’s fine,” I said cautiously. I looked at Darlene. “Look at her hair. Do you see it?”

“See what?” she muttered in confusion.

Missy grabbed her ponytail and lifted it in front of her face. “It’s all this color now!”

“Do you know why?” I asked.

She shook her head, whipping that ponytail this way and that. “No idea!”

I frowned. “I think I’ll have to ask the Harvest Goddess about this,” I noted. “Are you feeling alright?”

She blushed as she seemed to recall in full just what she had done. “I made an idiot out of myself. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” I said, smiling gently. “How much of that was you, though?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Darlene grunted.

Missy pressed her fingertips together shyly and bit her lip, averting her gaze. “Uhh. I mean—all of it? Not the intensity but…the feelings?”

I nodded. “Something is making you lose control. Sometimes you remember, sometimes you don’t.”

“Remember what?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

I blinked right back. “That outburst from just a second ago.”

She looked plainly stumped and turned to Darlene for answers. “Outburst?”

“Okay, never mind,” I sighed. “So the memory of these outbursts seems to fade rapidly, even mid-conversation.”

“Spooky as fuck,” Darlene muttered, folding her arms and sinking in her chair. “Damn.”

“What’s spooky?” Missy asked, batting her lashes at me sweetly.

I shook my head. “Forget it. You know—I’m beginning to think these hot dogs won’t be enough. Do you wanna call in a meal from Yvette’s and I can go pick it up?”

“Sure, but Yvette’s delivers anywhere in town for free,” Darlene said. “Just order a bunch of wings and a family sized salad for us to share.

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. “Got the number?”

“Sure do.”

I dialed the digits and waited, finding myself listening to the ringtone for about ten seconds. Eventually, I heard the mature voice of Yvette herself on the other line.

“This is Yvette speaking, how may I help you?”

“Hey, Yvette, this is—”

“Is this Petey?!” she asked excitedly.

“Yep, it’s me,” I said. “I’m on my farm with Darlene Copeland and Missy Sanford. We’re looking to order, let’s say, two orders of buffalo wings—”

“Barbecue wings, dickhead!” Darlene hissed, throwing a stick at me, which I caught. “Nice catch, hot stuff.”

First I was ‘dickhead’, then I was ‘hot stuff’. It was a very rapid transformation. I fought off the urge to laugh and stayed focused on the call. “Sorry—one order of buffalo, one of barbecue. And we’ll get a family sized salad.”

“Cobb or caesar?”

I looked at Missy and Darlene. “Cobb or Caesar?”

Thankfully speaking as one, they both said, “Caesar,” in unison.

“Caesar it is,” I said back into the line.

“Got it. One order of buffalo wings, one of barbecue wings, and a family-sized caesar salad. Is that delivery or pickup?”

“Delivery if that’s cool.”

She laughed almost musically. “It’s very cool, Peter. I’ll have sleeping beauty over here get it out to you on my bike. It’ll get her snoring out of my ears for a few minutes, at least.”

“Works for me,” I laughed.

She told me the total and I counted my bills to make sure I wouldn’t need to bum change off of anyone. “We should be good then?” Yvette asked.

“Good as gold,” I said. “Thanks, Yvette.”

“I’ll throw in a pitcher of beer for free. Just get the pitcher back to me next time you come into town, if you could.”

I grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

Click.

The three of us chatted a bit longer, but it wasn’t even fifteen minutes later when we heard the puttering of a dirt bike making its way onto my property. Missy stood up and started doing unnecessarily perfect jumping jacks to flag her down, and we were easy to spot by the glowing fire pit.

Soon the so-called drowsy pub princess came into view, sluggishly walking toward us like a zombie. She plopped down on the ground in front of Darlene like she weighed a thousand pounds and set the bag of food and the sealed pitcher on a stump. “You got the money?” she said with a big yawn. “Mwaaaw!”

I reached in my pocket and grabbed the prepared amount. I stood up and handed it to her, and she tucked it in a fanny pack on her belt and promptly closed her eyes.

“Great. I’m just going to rest for a second, if that’s okay. The fire is warm.”

“Fire tends to be,” I said, smirking at her.

She really was shockingly pretty in the same way everyone else was, but the bedhead-styled hair that was so blonde that it was nearly white really made her stand out. Again, I was taken aback by the impressively long and thick eyelashes, and now that I was mere feet away from her firelit face, I couldn’t help but notice the rosiness of her cheeks, which added a bit to her charms.

It was hard to get a read on her physique, though. I’d so far only seen her dressed in this one oversized gray hoodie. It practically came down to her knees, too, so I had no idea of knowing what she was or wasn’t wearing underneath. If I had to guess, probably pajama shorts and a comfy sports bra, or maybe no bra at all. She seemed the type.

Her pink lips puckered slightly as she leaned back against Darlene’s knees. She licked her lips, then did a full-body stretch, yawning as she settled into a comfy position.

Darlene chuckled and started rubbing her fingers through Cindy’s hair. “I should have seen this coming.”

“I did,” Missy sighed.

“Yep,” Cindy said. “You’re stuck with me. If I go back to work, mom will just make me do stuff.”

“Like work?” I asked.

“Yep.” She opened one eye slightly. “I don’t remember you at all,” she said. “I mean—aside from earlier today, I guess. Apparently you’re someone I should know?”

“Weren’t you at the funeral?” I asked.

“I slept through it.”

“Ah. Checks out.”

“Oh my Gawd! Dale punched him in the face in the middle of the funeral, Cindy,” Missy said. “You didn’t even catch that part?”

She shrugged and hugged Darlene’s left leg tightly. “Nope.”

Darlene shuddered at the mention of her brother’s crime. “I still can’t believe he did that.”

More irritation pricked at the back of my mind, and I couldn't help myself but blab about another gripe I had with the guy. “Yeah, and I found out that he told Queenie to abort Kylie Ann, too,” I said.

“What?!” Darlene shouted, startling Cindy into an upright position for half a second before she just resolved to lay flat on the grass. “Why the fuck would he say that?!”

“I don’t know, but you’d better hope he doesn’t get lippy with me again when we’re alone,” I told her. “I will not hesitate to kick his shit in.”

“Do what you must,” Darlene growled. “That fucker. I don’t know what happened to him. He’s always had a bit of a dickish edge, but it’s gotten worse lately for dang sure.”

“Dale’s always nice to me,” Cindy yawned. “But he smells bad. Like B.O. and spoiled diesel.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly hard work being nice to inoffensive pretty girls,” I pointed out.

One of her eyes half-opened and looked at me. “Thank you for calling me…inoffensive.” She giggled and turned onto her side. “The fire is a bit too warm.”

“You could roll away from it,” Missy said.

“Too much work. I’ll just roast.”

While she slept on the ground, the rest of us helped ourselves to the meal that Cindy had delivered to us. Eventually, perhaps predictably, I fielded a phone call from Yvette and had to confirm that, yes, Cindy had indeed fallen asleep on the grass on my property. Yvette didn’t seem all that upset about it though.

“Well, take good care of her until she gets up. And if she doesn’t get up by morning, then drive her sleeping body into town with you next time you head in.”

I laughed at that and said goodbye.

After a while, though, even Missy and Darlene started to doze off, and I realized how much the morning’s labor must have exhausted them. Eventually, I picked the girls up, one at a time, and carried them to bed—Missy and Darlene in the redhead’s trailer, and Cindy to my bed. I left her there and decided to sleep beside the failing embers of the fire pit, watching their red glow fade until they went black, white, and gray—inert.

And just as I was about to fade into dreamland, I felt a tiny hand on my shoulder, shaking me. “Pssst,” Apple whispered alongside a trio of simpering pixies, “Let’s have a bunch of sex.”

16 Breakfast With Kylie Ann

I woke up around six thirty in the morning, nestled in a hammock on my porch. I jolted awake with a start when I suddenly began coughing, feeling some morning stuffiness trailing down my throat. “Post-nasal drip—the worst naturally occurring alarm clock,” I grumbled.

Rolling onto my side, I groped my pockets to confirm that my wallet, keys, and phone were still with me, then grabbed the yellow backpack I’d been using as a pillow and slung it over my shoulders. With a click and a creak, I opened the door to my grandpa’s cabin—my cabin–and I went into my room. I almost jumped to find Cindy still there, having nearly forgotten about her. She wasn’t startling to look at, at least. She was like a platinum blonde angel the way her hair formed a sort of halo on my pillow.

The girl didn’t have a very graceful sleeping position, though. If Sleeping Beauty was supposed to sleep on her back with her hands folded demurely over her head, Cindy was the opposite of that. She was sprawled out, like she got dramatically lost on the way to making a snow angel.

“Sleeping like the dead, huh?” I muttered. I approached her slowly, but I didn’t mask or try to hide the sound of my footfalls, hoping she’d hear me and wake up on her own. No such luck. The girl had no subconscious survival mechanisms to speak of. If this were the wilderness, she’d be halfway down a grizzly bear’s gullet by now.

I chuckled at that and shook her by the shoulder, hoping to rustle her awake. Nothing happened. A little snort, but that’s it. Frowning, I tried again.

This time I got a reaction. She opened her mouth wide and yawned. “Mmm—waahh!” she said, stretching like a kitten in a sunbeam, then promptly turned onto her side. “This bed…not so comfy-womfy.”

“How about we get you back to your own bed?” I suggested.

She nodded, eyes still closed. But then she…didn’t budge.

“I’m going to need you to get up, Cindy,” I said.

She rolled onto her back again and shot her arms up in the air. “Carry me.”

With an eye-roll and a grunt, I obliged, lifting her easily into my arms. She was lighter than I’d expected—her hoodie, I quickly learned, apparently obscured the fact that she was very petite. 

Rather than carry her like a princess, I opted to sling her over my shoulder like a burlap sack full of potatoes, figuring she was a deep enough sleeper not to complain—and that it’d be easier to navigate the doors and such that I’d need to interact with on my way to getting her in my car.

“I’m going to set you in my passenger seat, and then I need to take care of a couple things, alright?” I told her. “After that I’ll take you home.”

She did not respond directly to that. Instead she just let out a little whimper and said, “Mmm…your arms so cozy-wozy.”

Sighing, I did as I said. I opened the passenger side door and set her down on the seat. Her eyes fluttered half open for a moment, and she smiled at me. “You’re kinda cute with my eyes open,” she commented.

“Nah, I’m much cuter with them shut. Go back to sleep, I need to take a leak,” I muttered.

She giggled and nodded and promptly followed my directive. I marveled at the speed with which she started snoring softly once more.

I took care of my morning business—I peed, banged some elves, fed Fierce Boy his breakfast, brewed myself some coffee, and changed my clothes in my room, which no longer held a sleeping blonde on the sheets. The incorrigible rogue in me did give in to the temptation to smell my pillow, just curious what scent she left behind. It smelled like bonfire smoke and apple shampoo.

The whole process of getting ready took me about ten minutes of real world time, and I grabbed my backpack again, poured my coffee into a thermos, and headed back to my car.

When I got there, Cindy had figured out how to recline her seat all the way back. I looked down at her and smirked, unable to hold back my amusement at just how lazy this chick was. “Are you all set?”

“I need to pee,” she muttered.

“Oh. Alright, bathroom’s in the cabin on the right when you go in.”

She shook her head, eyes still closed. “I’m too tired. I can hold it until you carry me into the pub.”

I quirked a brow at her, wondering why she bothered to mention it, then. “Alright.”

After checking to make sure I left the flowers in the backseat, I started up the car and drove into town. Cindy was a fun and quirky little distraction, but my excitement at seeing Kylie Ann and Queenie again was starting to bubble up in my chest. I drove out of my own property, enjoying the crunch of gravel under my tires, and headed straight down Main Street until I reached Yvette’s. A short drive, only a couple minutes. 

I parked on the street out in front of the pub and felt my lips curl downward in a frown. I considered the logistics of how I was going to pick up this sloth of a woman and carry her out of my small vehicle—without bumping her head on shit the whole time.

Slowly, carefully, I gathered her in my arms, once again impressed by just how light she was, and I let out a brief guffaw as she went instantly limp. I bit my tongue to stop myself from making any more noise, though. If I was lucky, I could sneak into the pub and drop her off at the counter or something, then leave without getting into any awkward conversations. Already, I knew I’d have to ride or push her dirtbike into town later, but I wasn’t sure when I was going to be free, so I kind of wanted to avoid being asked to make promises on just when that’d be.

I closed the car door behind me with my foot and carried Cindy to the front door of the pub. I tried to open it, but predictably, I guess, it was locked.

“Cindy. The door is locked,” I said, shaking her lightly.

“Key’s in my titties,” she mumbled, her lips pressed against my collarbone as she threw her arms around my shoulders. “Just…reach in there and take it.”

I swallowed hard. “‘Scuse me? The key is...inside your titties?”

“In my bra. Stop making me talk. It’s so early and you’re so warm.”

“I’m not reaching inside your bra to take out your key,” I declared firmly. That just sounded like a bad idea to me.

“Then I’m not going inside. That’s fine by me. I can stay here all day.” She wiggled a bit and made herself at home in my arms to make it clear she wasn’t joking.

I smiled at that, unable to help myself. “I thought you needed to pee.”

“...Just reach inside my bra and grab the key.”

“You do it.”

“It’s the left one. My left. You do it,” she mumbled, nuzzling my neck in a way too familiar way, then yawned directly in my ear. “Mwaaaaw!”

My face soured like I’d licked a lemon-coated armpit, and I slowly, gingerly reached inside her hoodie from the collar hole and—grabbed a naked titty. “There’s no bra,” I grunted.

“Oh. Must have left it in my mom’s dirt bike, I guess.”

“The bra or the key?” I muttered, fighting the urge to give the boob a soft and grateful squeeze before I pulled my hand away. “Whatever. Now what?”

“Knock on the door. Mom will come and open it.” She yawned so wide I could see halfway down her throat.

“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re on your own. I can’t get roped into a big chat. I have breakfast plans in, like, three minutes.”

Her eyes fluttered half open and she pouted at me. “So you aren’t going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?” I asked, cocking my head in dubious concern.

“That we got married in Vegas last night.”

She stared at me pointedly. I stared right back at her, my jaw gone slack. After a few seconds, I puzzled it out. “Ah. You had a dream.”

She whimpered and nuzzled my neck again. “I know. I was hoping you had the same dream and I could trick you. Dating is tough, it’s easier to skip straight to marriage once I find a cute boy who seems like he can carry me around indefinitely.”

“...Pretty sure dreams—and marriage—don’t work like that.”

“But you’re so comfy,” she whined. “No one holds me like this. Can you accept a girlfriend who is never awake, won’t clean, only eats once a day, and who needs to be worn like a backpack or held like a baby pretty regularly?”

Suddenly frantic, I started pounding on the door. Yvette’s familiar voice barked back at me from inside. “Is that you, Cindy?”

“If we go on dates, just know I will sleep through them—and that’s okay and normal,” Cindy went on, ignoring her mother’s voice.

“In what world is that okay and normal?” I whispered. I cleared my throat and redirected my energy at Yvette. “It’s Pete. I’ve got your daughter! I’ll drop the dirt bike off later. Please come take her from me.”

I heard a bit of laughter, and I was sure that my phrasing was to blame. A few seconds later, the door opened, and the gray-haired bar owner smirked at me and shook her head. “Don’t ask me how, but I knew it’d turn out like this.”

“We made love all night long,” Cindy said. “I seduced him like a pro, Mom.” My glutes reflexively clenched.

“Bullshit,” Yvette grunted. “You slept on his farm all night long, and he probably was a gentleman and let you sleep alone in his bed.”

“He’s nice, mommy,” Cindy confirmed, yawning. “Mwaaw! He told me he wanted to be my boyfriend.” I passed her over to her mother, who took Cindy, then promptly dropped her on her ass.

I’d never seen Cindy’s eyes go so wide. “Ow! Shit! Mom! Fuck!”

“Wake up, honey, time for work,” Yvette said, punctuating that sentence with a kick to Cindy’s rear as the girl started to stand up. “Wash that mouth out with soap and get your ass behind the counter.”

Cindy straightened, wide awake for at least a few seconds, then stomped on the floor, huffing and puffing her way over to the counter where she stormed toward the ladies’ room. Yvette watched her daughter with equal parts love and exasperation, then stepped outside with me and closed the door behind her. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Nothing happened between us,” I quickly clarified. “Just so you know.”

“I know. But…maybe something should,” she sighed. “Otherwise that girl is literally never going to give me grandkids. She seems to have taken a liking to you. I’ve never seen her let a man carry her around like that besides Big John, and that’s just because he’s her godfather.”

“I—uh—Well, I have an appointment for breakfast around seven, so I need to get going, alright?” I said. “Good to see you. I’m sure I’ll be by again soon—with the dirt bike.”

“I’ll look forward to it, and it sounds like my daughter will, too,” Yvette beamed, waving as I took off a bit too eagerly. “And don’t worry about the dirt bike!” she shouted. “I’ll have her come get it. Along with that pitcher.”

“Fuck. I forgot about that pitcher.”

I felt a little silly getting back in my car because Queenie’s place was literally a block away. Even so, I parked in her driveway and started toward the door with the flowers, but was surprised and delighted to see said door open up, and a little beauty with a white bow atop her golden hair came running at me wearing pink and white polka-dotted pajamas.

“Dad!” Kylie Ann shouted, running to me and jumping off the last step so that I was forced to catch her. The sound of her voice as she called out for me seemed almost relieved to say the word—I could understand. I was just as relieved to hear it. “Are those flowers for me?”

Snatching her out of the air, I held her in front of me for a second and clicked my tongue as though in disapproval. “Still wearing your PJs, I see,” I said. “Your poor mother.”

She giggled impishly, and I slung her over my shoulder and carried her inside, where Queenie was waiting by the door with a big smile on her gorgeous face. She bit her lip as we made eye contact and adjusted her hair. “She’s been looking forward to this,” she said as she leaned in and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. She grabbed the two bouquets with warm eyes, each dancing with red hearts. “I’ll get these in water, Don Juan.”

I winked at Queenie and set Kylie Ann down, kneeling to look at her at eye level. “See about getting some orange juice on the table for me, kiddo. I just finished my coffee on the way here.”

She nodded and scampered off to the kitchen, and I turned my attention to Queenie as I closed the door behind me. Queenie headed back toward me from the kitchen table, where she’d already placed the flowers in a vase. “She seems to be in an okay enough mood,” I noted in a cautious tone, recalling what I’d been told just the previous afternoon.

“Kids,” she said, shrugging. “Yesterday she cried all night about you. Today she’s perfectly fine. It makes sense, I guess—her whole issue was she doesn’t know you, and now she gets a chance to spend time with you. She might throw a fit again when you leave, I suppose.”

“Can I just take her with me for today?” I asked. “After breakfast, I mean? I can give her some easy chores, maybe let her play with Fierce.”

“She has school, and she missed most of yesterday,” she reminded me with a short laugh. “You can maybe pick her up and take her home afterward, but I need her here during the weekdays most of the time, at least for now.”

I nodded. “Right, right.”

“Dad!” Kylie Ann shouted from the refrigerator as she held a carton of juice in her little hands. “Wanna hear a joke?”

“Boy, do I,” I said, walking toward her with Queenie. “Hit me.”

“Why did the dumb boy stare at the orange juice for so long?”

I smirked, remembering this joke from my own childhood. “Tell me.”

“Because it said, ‘concentrate’!” she giggled, then set the carton onto the table, looking quite pleased with herself.

“That’s a good one,” I told her, grinning. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Do you know any jokes?” she asked.

“I know a few. Why is six afraid of seven?”

She counted on her tiny hands, like that was going to tell her the answer, then looked up at me and shrugged. “Why?”

“Because seven ate nine.”

Her eyes widened and mouth dropped open in a brazen gawk. “That is the greatest joke I’ve ever heard in my entire gosh darn life.”

Queenie laughed and started bringing plates full of breakfast food to the table. Bacon, eggs, cereal, butter, but also English muffins, sausages, and a variety of sauces.

“What are we having?” I asked as I pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. It seemed self-explanatory, but the way everything was sort of laid out in a row made me suspect there was a specific plan in mind.

Kylie Ann tried to sit on my lap, but Queenie said, “Nuh uh, sit on your own chair, little lady.”

My daughter pouted but didn’t complain and did as she was told. Then she opened up a jug of cranberry juice and started pouring it in her glass, splashing a little on the table in the process.

Queenie winced at that but turned to me to answer my question as she took her own seat. “We like to make breakfast muffins sometimes. You take the egg, the bacon, and some sausage, and you tuck it between two halves of a buttered English muffin.”

“In the city they have something called McDaniels,” Kylie Ann informed me, making me chuckle. “One time, when I was little, momma told me about it and we tried to make it at home.”

“You ever been to a big city?” I asked.

Queenie instantly frowned. I clocked it right away and regretted asking.

Kylie Ann, for her part, just shook her head. “Nope. I never get to go outside the valley. I’m too young.”

“Never?” I asked, my brows lifting in surprise. “Maybe I can—”

“She can’t leave the valley,” Queenie said firmly, but forced a smile. “She stays here, no matter what. For several more years at least.”

“Alright,” I grunted. “That’s…That seems a bit…Never mind.” I’d have to talk to her about it later, but I wasn’t going to make a scene disagreeing with Queenie in front of Kylie Ann.

Queenie sighed and snapped her fingers to get the little girl’s attention. “I guess there’s no time like the present. Sweetheart, wanna show Daddy your special ears?”

“Hmm? Okay.” She reached up to her hair and grabbed a bunch of it, then said, “Ta da!” as she lifted it off of one ear. Her long, thick, wavy hair was apparently always down for a reason.

The ear was…pointed. Like one of the Harvest Fairies. My mouth opened to say something, but I was truly speechless. Apple had mentioned that Queenie’s bloodline was partially elven, but I never expected this.

Queenie saved me from my silent stupor. “Our family has been here since the beginning. We descend from the elves that originally came to the Fertile Valley with the Harvest Goddess,” she said, then she tapped her ear, and in a single blink, it was the same. Long, pointed…elven.

“So. My daughter has fairy blood?” I said as I assembled a breakfast sandwich, looking at Kylie Ann, who grinned at me, inadvertently showing off her missing tooth.

“Yes,” Queenie said. “And so do I. My ears only came in after I gave birth to Kylie Ann. It’s a bit different for everyone.”

“Like Missy,” I guessed.

Queenie looked puzzled at that, like she’d just been splashed in the face with cold water. “What? Why do you say that?”

I poured myself some orange juice. “Because lately her hair has been turning bluer and bluer. Magic stuff, so I assumed, you know?”

Queenie suddenly stood up, dropping her silverware onto her plate with a clatter. “How long has this been happening?”

“Just a couple of days at most, but it got really noticeable to me last night. Why? Is it bad?”

She nodded. “It’s very bad. Pete, that doesn’t mean that Missy has fairy blood—usually the ears indicate that. Some other women in town have them too, but a couple of those you would know haven't fully awakened to it yet, like Cindy, Yvette’s daughter. But...Hair changing blue, eyes changing red—that means that she’s gotten to Missy.”

“Who? Who’s gotten to her?” I asked.

Kylie Ann was enthralled. “Yeah, who?”

Queenie frowned as she sat back down and took a deep breath. “Cover your ears, Kylie Ann.”

The little girl rolled her eyes and huffed a complaint, but obeyed.

With that, Queenie looked at me for several long seconds as she appeared to debate whether or not she was going to go through with saying the name after all. After a heavy sigh, she relented and leaned in to whisper not a name, really, but a title. “

The Queen of the Mines.”