Ashes of the Fae

by Sophia LeRoux

  “Mommmmyyyy!” she grumbled, fishing her way out of her tent as we sat up at breakneck speed. I didn’t have time to ask, but I saw Maddy look down at himself before jumping up to rush out the front door. He left it partially cracked. Iris sleepily appeared around the corner, rubbing her eyes, with Lamby hanging from her grasp.

  “Hi, smush. Did we wake you?” I sat on my knees, skirt tugged down and legs pressed tightly together as she approached. I was trying as hard as I could not to act like I was up to no good.

  “Mommy, you made a mess.” She yawned, pointing at the misshapen puddle on the floor as she fluttered in and out of sleep. I opened my arms to welcome her, feeling her start to doze off again as soon as she sat. Maddy finally reappeared through the door with a small waxy brown suitcase, holding it closely to the front of his pants.

  “Max!” And here I thought she was asleep. But no, she awoke as soon as he came through the door, teeming with excitement. She hopped up from my lap to hug him as he offered an awkward side-of-the-leg hug and a nervous, but genuine, smile. As she looked up at him, something caught her eye, and she looked all around the room now on some sort of hunt.

  His hat.

  She quickly ran over and grabbed it off the floor before running off to hide it somewhere. The air filled with devious giggles. His face lit up with happiness, soon shifting down to me as he had trouble meeting my gaze. Now came the awkward “after-sex” waltz, where a new kind of apprehension replaced the sexual.

  “Everything OK?”

  Startled, he pressed the bag tighter against himself, as if caught red-handed in something. Neither of us really knew how to act, or what to say.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not moving in. Just…need to change.” He walked past me as I brushed the pleat of his pants. He lost one of his steps a bit from tipsiness, to which I chuckled.

  “Um…hey, Maddy?” His steps slowed to hear my words.

  “Aye, Macushla?”

  Whatever that meant, I could tell by the softness, and heavy accent of it, that it was some kind of endearment.

  “It’s…well, it’s late, so you can stay. If you want…”

  A hasty, “thank you” was all I got in reply, hearing the sound of the bathroom door close after he disappeared.

  If I was glowing before, I was luminous now, and curious as to what bothered him. Though the relief I felt was unreal, I too needed to change. But first I had to lure Iris out of hiding, which wasn’t hard. She soon followed me after promises of a bubble bath and some play time before bed.

  I’d leave Maddy to his thoughts until then.

  7

  It had been so long since I slept well that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be completely rested. Refreshed. Having Iris back in my arms put me at ease. Though I had instinctively awoken several times during the night, I quickly fell back asleep. Even though he had killed the Hag, my head still sang with “what ifs.”

  I had planned on going back downstairs to speak with him a bit more the night before, to learn more about him, but once we lay down I was out. Before dawn broke the horizon, when the first gray haze of day began to flood the room, I awoke. My throat was parched something awful.

  Iris was still lost to the dream world. Her cheek was squished against the mattress, hair matted with sweat, and chubby little fingers clinging to her stuffy. She wasn’t going to be up anytime soon. In the foyer, Maddy was nowhere to be seen, but I’d spotted a neatly folded pile of blankets beneath a pillow at the end of the sofa.

  Half awake, I slunk down into the kitchen, feet dragging along the frigid wood as I crept. The house was quiet, dusky, and filled with a pleasant aroma of burning wood from the stove. As the faucet squeaked, I watched the water cascade into the glass, mesmerized by it. My body was already enveloped by the warmth that flooded the room as the light tapping of feet approached behind me.

  “Leila.” His voice chimed in greeting, and a queer smirk teased my lips before I spun around to meet him.

  “Maddy.”

  I looked at him over the glass, sipping down the liquid between shy grins. He shot me a few himself. He didn’t come all that close, stopping at the end of the island several paces away.

  He had donned no hat or gloves in the dim light as I watched him swallow in anticipation. His eyes trailed down my body curiously before flicking back up. All the while he was tucking in his white button-down before lifting the straps of his suspenders, a quiet snap singing as they secured. His finicky nature then took over as his delicate fingers hugged the taut elastic—running up and down the length of it to caress any folds or twists away.

  The air between us reeked of nervousness. Peculiar how even adults could be afflicted by such teenage emotions, but it was also somewhat exciting—all the raw passion and unsureness that flurried between us. The only downfall about it all was being unaware of his feelings on the matter.

  “Did you sleep well?” I asked, watching him rub the base of his neck in what could’ve been a kink or just uneasiness, his elbow falling as the hand clung to his shoulder.

  “I um…yes, I did. Thank you.” Again, he couldn’t look me in the eye. Instead he became distracted by his ungloved hands, studying me for some sort of reaction. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen them without gloves before.

  “I would like to apologize for last night.” His back straightened, hands diving into his pockets as he rested against the counter. Though we hadn’t known each other long, I could already spot when his insecurities began to peek through. This was one of those moments. “I let the drink get the best of me and…I didn’t even bother to ask you if wanted to kiss me or…” His eyes averted away from me, settling on the glass I’d laid on the granite beside me.

  “Hey, look at me.” I spoke sternly, coaxing him with an upward gesture. It took him a second, but he did. “How long are we going to keep doing this? Hmm? Why are you apologizing?”

  “Because, it was rude of me to…”

  “To what, Maddy? Kiss me? Share an amazing, passionate moment together? I know you’re nervous, but you really need to—”

  “I didn’t mean to upset y—” For a moment, his body recoiled; worry surrounding him like a shroud in what he thought was an angry outburst, but I was merely frustrated.

  “Do you regret it?” I snapped. He froze when I asked, my thighs pressing together tightly as I relived his affection all over again, even through all this tension. His legs shifted as a hand skated across the countertop, both of us inching a bit closer. “Because I don’t. So if you do—”

  “No,” he interrupted. In some ways he looked relieved, more so when my hand slid across the counter to meet his, our fingertips intertwining with one another. “I don’t.”

  “It’s just funny…” I muttered, tracing the flame-drawn engravings along the lengths of his fingers. They twitched occasionally against the tickle. It amazed me how much he was able to feel, given the extensive nerve damage.

  “What is?”

  “If I’m not apologizing for kissing you, then you are.” My feet shuffled a bit closer with each sway of my body, stopping as my hands met his chest. His breath held as they did. “Maybe we just need to just…I don’t know. Do something to ease this…tension between us?”

  “How do you propose—mm hmm—how would we do that?” His voice was suddenly gruff, chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly beneath my touch.

  “Mmmm…A date, maybe?” As my nails hiked up to his collar, he may have been anticipating a much different answer. I’d also realized how much I enjoyed sending his moral compass into disarray with even the simplest touch.

  “A date?”

  “Yeah, you know. Like…a walk, or a movie, dinner—” I wanted to convey what “normal couples” do, but was worried he would take the word “normal” out of context; if I could even call us a couple.

  “No, I know what a date is…I just…that’s not what I expected…” Through a timid smile, I knew what he thought I was going to say, so I responded in kin
d.

  “Mmm, well…” With a kiss to his chin, I ran my hands down his body, curling my fingers around the waist of his pants. His stomach clenched as I tugged. “…maybe that too.”

  I admit, I was feeling a bit shameless. He was trying as hard as he could to keep his composure.

  “So a date, hmm?” He looked down at me, and I up at him. Both of us yearned for a kiss but knew it would lead to trouble.

  “Mmhmm.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight?” I suggested, forehead pressing against his neck as his hands settled on my waist. But only for a moment.

  “What about Iris?” After pulling away, he migrated over to the coffee machine, already decorated with a full pot. His hands were steady as he filled a cup for both of us. He even added a spot of cream and sugar to my mug, just as I would’ve.

  “Jean. My um…neighbor.” As he handed me the cup, my voice grew shaky, smile fading along with my words. My hands quivered as well. All of the sweet little things he had done for me came to mind all at once; the fire, the coffee, Iris, caring for me when I had passed out, cleaning up the messes we made—or rather, he made. Something about it was making me tearful.

  “Leila?”

  “Hm? Oh…sorry. Still waking up,” I lied as his eyes scanned me, trying my expression for answers. “I um…right, Jean! My neighbor. I know she would watch Iris at her place for a few hours.” I took a few sips before setting the mug down, taking hold of both his hands as he stood there, rocking back and forth. Only now did I realize I wasn’t wearing any pants, only underwear, which explained why he was staring before. I laughed uncomfortably at myself.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” He knew something was on my mind. He just didn’t know what.

  “I’ll tell you later.” I said with a snark, remembering how he made me wait for answers before. I could tell he was worried, but for now I’d make him wait a bit.

  Taking Iris into town proved to be quite the spectacle, but she had a blast. The neighborhood was so small that word had already gotten around that she’d been found. Even though many children were still missing, people were thrilled to see that a couple of them had made it back alive. I was thankful to have been so lucky, but my heart still ached for the parents who weren’t.

  Maddox and I agreed to meet at the garden outside of the town square a bit before dusk, but until then he said he had some errands to run. I didn’t pry, so instead I took that time to get ready, while also treating my girl to a day out on the town.

  “Ice cream first!” she reminded me, over and over, looking forward to the trip to Harrison Mall that followed after. We walked around for a few hours, laughing, shopping, and acting like fools—as we often did. After buying a few things, we headed back home. So much of the day had already gone by.

  “You look pretty, Mommy,” She squeaked, borrowing the same tube of lipstick I’d just finished using while touching up some loose bits of foundation. She ran the rouge all over her mouth. It had been a long time since I prettied myself for someone, so I had to learn how to all over again. Needless to say, a lot of corrections were made.

  “So do you, smush.” We peered at each other in the mirror, exchanging giggles, her nose wrinkling in approval. Her little face was smeared with all different shades of eyeshadow, blush, and now poorly drawn lip color, but she was satisfied with her masterpiece. Now she took to tugging on the tight brown curls that hung from my attempt at an updo.

  “You sure you’ll be alright at Ms. Jean’s?”

  “Oh, yes! Ms. Jean is nice and she always has those chewy cookies with the white chocolate things in them.” She was pinching these imaginary chocolate chips between her fingers, licking her lips like they weren’t in her head at all. “Oh yes, I will have a good time, Mommy. Don’t you worry.”

  Still in a robe, I stood to look at myself in the mirror. Iris imitated my every move. My breasts had definitely seen better days, their once perky nature having headed south after Iris was born. Grabbing a handful of loose skin here, a neglected butt cheek there, I tried not to lose confidence as I took in a few deep breaths.

  My body is a work of art, I told myself. The scars, the loose skin, the slight bulges where there once were none—they were like battle wounds. Motherhood, divorce, and everything in between shaped me, molded me. I made myself see the beauty in it. I just hope he did as well. After all he had never seen all of me. I was just trying not to dread the thought.

  “You almost ready?” With urgency, I slid over to the bed, seeing the fire in the sky already beginning to fizzle out as I slid on my stockings. I fastened them with some garters I had dug out of a dusty box in the closet.

  After a long ponder, she nodded. Lamby flopped helplessly behind her as she ran to her room, soon returning with a rucksack full of stuff as I hopped along trying to slip on my heels. I didn’t like how wobbly I felt in them.

  “Ok, let’s go!”

  “Mommy, wait…” she called after me, snickering maniacally as she tugged on my skirt. “…your dress.”

  As I looked down, we both laughed. While I had remembered my bra, I’d forgotten to button myself up.

  We were finally off. After Jean asked a ton of questions about Iris’ return, we exchanged our goodbyes as I realized I was late.

  I was speeding more than I cared to admit. The last thing I needed was for him to think I stood him up. I’d been so paranoid about leaving Iris that the day had all but slipped away from me. And I was already regretting wearing heels. After walking about a hundred feet, I questioned their comfort, not to mention their stability. But it was too late now.

  I screeched to a halt in the parking lot, parking crookedly beside him. I wrapped myself up in a black overcoat, already anticipating the cold that had begun to bite down outside. I questioned why I’d asked him to meet at a park at night in forty-degree weather in the first place. He wasn’t in his car, but I could see a lone figure roaming by a bench beneath the lamplight just inside the garden.

  The butterflies swarmed inside me with every step I took, the same questions I had failed to ask before resurfacing as I approached. Even as my breath clouded my view, the cold seemed to bother me less and less. A mixture of desire and trepidation tormented me while I watched him pace the sidewalk.

  “Maddy?” I called out, his back still to me.

  His suit, much darker than I remembered, was woven like a lush tweed—and even his hat was a darker shade of grey. Instead of his usual trench-like coat, he stood tailored in something more akin to a pea coat. I almost didn’t recognize him, being accustomed to his khaki detective getup, but my God did he look good. More so than usual.

  “Leila…hi…” What was a momentarily wide smile quickly turned to surprise. Eyes and mouth unmoving, he ran his hands down his overcoat, his face tickled by a nervous grin as he examined himself. “You look…well, I feel underdressed.”

  “You? Is that even possible?” I laughed, tapping my heels together. And to think he hadn’t even seen the outfit beneath my jacket yet.

  “You look lovely,” he whispered, taking ahold of my hand as he leaned in for a single peck to my blush-ridden cheek. His lips were still warm in the cold. As he pulled away, his body was replaced by an elbow that hung in the air before me, gesturing for me to take hold. “Shall we?”

  With an arm wrapped around his, we walked the length of the garden, following the path of hedges that lined the way beneath the spaced lanterns. Few sounds arose aside from the clack of our shoes on the old brick and the ambient chirp of night insects, and for the first half of the walk, no words were exchanged. Once again neither of us seemed able to carry on a conversation.

  “To answer your question,” he blurted out before taking in a deep inhale, “that ‘sniffing thing I do’ is just that. I can… smell things, all sorts of things. Strong emotions, a presence, blood, so forth. It’s become a habit…” he punctuated his words with a series of dramatic sniffs, the both of us grinning as my nose tickled with a snort.


  “You really remembered that I asked?” I was baffled by his sudden desire to answer mw now and humored by his dry, yet playful banter.

  “Mmhmm…” He paused as we turned around, his other hand raising up to coddle mine as he peered over at me. My stomach rumbled almost purposely, and the sound interrupted whatever he was about to say, his lips parted as the former words stuck. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, but please…what were you going to say?” I didn’t want to hang in the limbo of another unanswered question, but I had missed the window.

  “It can wait.”

  Just around the corner was the diner, which was rather empty considering it was just now past seven o’clock. Housed inside what I always thought looked like a giant jukebox, Molly’s had been there ever since I can remember. At least since I was a child. Bright silver pillars were spaced out with thick, edge-worn glass and a red, black, and white retro interior that could probably do with a bit of updating.

  But the staff was always friendly and the food decent; I just had to make sure not to gorge myself in a nervous fit. As we took our seats, I could hear the scattered conversations of the few people that were there. Some of them were staring more than I would’ve liked, but it didn’t faze me much, or him for that matter. Suddenly, I remembered how judgmental people’s eyes were when they found out my husband had been having an affair with the babysitter.

  Small town.

  “What can I get you dolls to drink?” Cheyenne was a plump blonde girl, but she was sweet as they came, and she had been working here for years. With a slight flick of the wrist, he urged me to go first, folding his hands atop the table.

  “Unsweetened tea for me, please.”

  “And you, sir?”

  “Water, thank you.”

  “Such manners,” I picked. He caught onto my humored grin, flashing one in return, an arm lying across his lap as the fingers of the hand left behind ran circles around his thumb. His curiosity in my staring soon became too much for him to bear.