by Kimbra Swain
“What am I? Chopped liver?” Dylan teased.
“Ew, I don’t eat liver,” I said. Realizing the implication, I quickly added. “Don’t you even say a word!” I saw the light in his eyes. Who knows what he would have said if I hadn’t stopped him. And I was the vulgar one!
The low rumble of a large vehicle approached. Around the corner came the largest monstrosity I’d ever seen. A huge private motorhome drove up with Stephanie Davis’ face plastered on the side of it. The huge thing came to a stop with hisses and grunts. When the door opened, Stephanie and Sergio dismounted the steps like gymnastic gazelles. I’d never seen anything more graceful. I climbed out of Dylan’s car leaning next to him. We took in their cheerful greetings to all those who had gathered there.
“Can I put my face on the side of your Camaro?” I asked Dylan.
“No, but we can buy you an RV,” he offered.
“I thought you loved me more than your car,” I pouted.
“The car wouldn’t do your face justice,” he said.
“Nice backpedal,” Troy said offering Dylan a fist. They bumped.
Her icy stare met us. She raised her hand and waggled her fingers at me as if we were old friends. I waggled mine back, but left the middle one up for a measure. She rolled her eyes.
“At what point can I kick her ass?” I asked.
Dylan sighed, knowing I didn’t mean at the ballot box. “You can’t. If you want to win.”
I sighed, too. “If I get to the point where winning isn’t as important as kicking her ass, then I can do it.”
She walked over to the posted rules while Sergio took pictures of it. They conversed in low tones while Kyffin Merrick fended off the adoring public. I hadn’t even seen him get off the bus. Looking with my fairy sight, I saw the bright purple glow of royalty around Stephanie. Merrick was outlined with a lighter shade of purple showing that he was a royal servant. Sergio Krykos glowed a bright blue.
“Hmm,” I uttered.
“What?” Dylan asked.
“He’s blue,” I replied.
“Krykos?”
“Yep. I’m blue, too” I replied. I knew Krykos was Greek, but there were very few beings in the Greek myths that would be considered fairies. Most were gods and children of gods. Creatures like my friend, Chris Purcell, did fall within that category. Chris glowed with a pale tan color which was almost white. I’d never seen Krykos before the memorial service when I thought Dylan died. Surprised that he was blue, I looked again just to be sure. He was most definitely Unseelie royalty. However, that group included hundreds of fairies. Most of which I’d never met.
“Maybe you could ask your father for some insight on the colors.” Dylan offered.
“I probably should before this gets out of hand. I wonder if Mable would help me. I hadn’t approached the subject with Mable Sanders, my grandfather’s girlfriend, about her spying for my father. To be honest, I didn’t care what she told Daddy about me. However, if she had information that would help me with the election, I should talk to her. “We need to go pick up Winnie. It’s getting late, and I want us to have dinner together.”
“Alright,” Dylan said, opening the door for me.
“Oh, Miss Bryant, do wait a moment,” Stephanie purred.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Please make it quick, Miss Davis. I need to get home to my child.”
“Your child? Oh, that’s right. You know I heard that Bethany Jones died. Very sad for poor Winnie to be forced to live with a woman like you.”
“Yes, poor Winnie,” I agreed, just to make her shut up.
“My lawyer is going over these rules that you made up. I think that we might have a few disputes on the way these are worded. You really should have hired a lawyer to look them over before posting them,” she said.
“I did the research on the rules, Stephanie. They are in accordance with state and local regulations, but adapted for our people,” Dylan supplied.
“Just the same, you will hear from my lawyer on this matter,” she said. “My intention is to win this race. If you haven’t noticed, we’ve put a lot of money into this campaign. I do hope you are prepared to lose. If you do, you will be the first fairy banished from my kingdom.”
My body tightened. I felt the cool burst of anger travel down my spine as my glamour dropped, and the icy fairy queen emerged. “Stephanie Davis, let’s get one thing straight. You might think you could banish me from my home, but you would be wrong. I dare you to try. I’m not leaving Shady Grove. This is my home and these are my people. Perhaps you think I’m just a piece of trailer trash. Please keep thinking that because when I wipe the floor with you, I’m going to let you live here. Just so you can see me ruling here every day. Something tells me that if you lose, you’ll suddenly forget your residence here. Have your lawyer send me your complaints. I’ll forward them to Mr. Remington Blake.”
“Remy is a joke, but I admit he’s a good lay,” she laughed.
I didn’t surprise me that Remy had slept with her. By Nestor and Dylan’s admission, Stephanie had slept with half the town. She’d probably slept with half of Tuscaloosa too.
“He was good in bed, but he’s an even better lawyer,” I said.
“If he was so good, then why be with Dylan,” she laughed.
“Because, I love Dylan,” I replied flatly. Dylan smiled as he guided me into the passenger seat of his red Camaro.
Climbing in the driver’s side, he said, “Thank you for that.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I smiled. “At least we don’t have to paint your car. It’s already red.” We laughed, as he drove off leaving Stephanie in a cloud of exhaust.
We picked up Winnie and went home for a nice meal. I made spaghetti.
“I love ‘sketti, Aunt Grace,” Winnie said.
“Well, that’s why I made it,” I replied.
“Makes my belly fat,” she said pulling up her shirt to show me her belly.
Since Winnie came to live with us, she had gained a lot of weight. No more hungry bedtimes. She told me one night as we read our bedtime story that she had “grumbly” stomach at night. It was so loud she couldn’t sleep. My heart broke. All those years with her little self across the street from me in the trailer, going to bed hungry. I did as much as I could for her, but I don’t think I realized the depth of the poverty that she’d faced. Never again.
“Time for bed, little girl,” Dylan told her.
“Aw, do I have to?” she begged.
“Yes, ma’am. You have school tomorrow,” he said.
“Will you read to me?” she asked, fluttering her eyelids. She was already charming the men. She wrapped Dylan and Levi around her little fingers whenever she saw fit.
“Of course,” he replied. She ran up the stairs to the bedroom that he’d made for her even before her mother died. A perfect little girl haven with rainbows and unicorns.
Dylan occasionally had this creepy intuitive part of him. It’s almost like he knew one day that both Winnie and I would be living here. Of course, I had my trailer now, but most of my nights would be with him. It didn’t matter which home. I stood outside the bedroom door while he read her a book. Something about green eggs. Sounded awful, but it was a cute book.
When he finished reading, she said, “Mr. Dylan, I never had a daddy.”
“I know, Winnie, but you have Uncle Levi and me to take care of you,” Dylan said.
“Will you be my daddy?” she asked. My eyes welled up in tears.
Dylan’s voice cracked, “Are you sure, Winnie?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I would be honored to be your Daddy,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.
“My Daddy has an awesome red car!” she excitedly said. She’d always loved that red Camaro. It made me giggle. Dylan looked back at me with the biggest grin on his face.
“Night, Winnie. I love you,” he told her.
“I love you too, Daddy,” she said. “Night, Aunt Grace.”
/> Once again, I was pushed down the line in Winnie’s love, but it didn’t matter. She was too darn sweet.
I blew her a kiss. “Night, Winnie.”
Dylan shut the door, then wrapped his arms around me. He picked me up.
“Oh, my god! That was amazing,” he said. “Let’s have ten more.”
“Wait! What?”
“At least one,” he said.
“At least one,” I agreed.
“But if we had more, I’m fine with that,” he said.
“I think I’d need one of those fancy quadruple-wides,” I replied.
“Ugh, you and the damn trailer,” he laughed. “Let’s get started.”
“On having kids?” I asked.
“Yes!” he said scooping me up to carry me to the bedroom. I laughed, having no desire to stop him. He plopped me down on the bed, climbing up over me. “Get these damn clothes off!”
Suddenly, he was in a baby- making frenzy thanks to Winnie’s profession of love. I kept giggling as he yanked and pulled at my clothes. He paused for a moment, looking into my eyes.
“Why did you stop?” I asked still giggling.
“You do want to have a child with me, right?” he asked.
“You are asking me now? It’s a little late isn’t it considering how many times we’ve done this,” I said.
“Well, I didn’t want to assume,” he said.
“You were already an ass, so go ahead and assume,” I laughed.
“Answer me,” he said.
“I have apprehensions, but I think all women do. However, seeing your face light up in there when she asked you that, I’d give you as many babies as you would like,” I admitted.
“Okay, the rest of the clothes, please,” he demanded.
“Yes, Daddy,” I purred. He growled and was on me like white on rice.
Winnie was eating cereal when Dylan came downstairs looking pretty worn out. “Morning, Darlin’.”
“Ugh,” he grunted.
“Caveman need coffee?” I teased while Winnie giggled.
“Ugh,” he grunted again.
“Daddy is a caveman!” Winnie proclaimed. Dylan’s smile returned.
“Here you go, Daddy Caveman,” I said handing him a cup.
“Thank you, my Queen,” he grinned.
“Ugh,” I replied. Winnie thought all of this was hilarious.
“Why does Daddy call you Queen?” she asked.
“She is the Queen of Shady Grove!” Dylan said.
“I am not,” I replied. “Just the fairy part.” I winked at Winnie. She winked back, only it was both eyes instead of one. Thankfully, at Christmas, she still had a sense of wonder about her when she saw me transform into Gloriana. She thought it was fun dress up time. I wasn’t sure how we would handle it going forward, but Dylan assured me that we would figure it out. I imagined at some point she would have to be told the truth. Kind of like the lie of Santa Claus only lasts for so long.
She slipped her key necklace around her neck. “Okay, it’s time to go.”
“I’ll get my keys,” Dylan said.
“I can take her in the truck,” I replied.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it. Then I’m supposed to work at the bar today,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll bring you lunch,” he said.
I kissed him. Winnie made smooching noises. He hoisted her up in the air letting her fly over his head. She squealed and giggled. He hugged her tight, then let her down. She took off running to the truck.
“See you soon,” I said.
“I’m gonna shower, and I’ll be there as soon as possible. If I’m not, you call me fifty times until I answer,” he joked.
“I will,” I said.
“Love you, Grace,” he said. He never let me go anywhere without saying it. He told me he never wanted me wonder if something ever happened to him. I cursed him for mentioning such a thing.
Dropping off Winnie at school, I noticed considerably more blue signs around town, but more red signs in the yards of homes. I pulled up at Hot Tin Roof, and Nestor had put up a huge red sign that said, “Vote for Queen Grace.” I loved it. It was big and gaudy like me.
“I declare Nestor that sign is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Well, maybe not as beautiful as my new trailer, but it’s nice,” I said, taking off my jacket. “It’s like a big red apple ready to be cooked for a pie!”
“You like it?”
“Love it! I’m thinking all of my signs need glitter to make it just right,” I laughed.
“Too gaudy,” he said.
“No such thing!” I replied, pouring a cup of coffee.
“I saw the RV,” he said.
“Now that is too gaudy,” I laughed.
He dried glasses as he talked, “It’s a monstrosity.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said.
“You should be out campaigning instead of working,” he suggested.
“I am campaigning. The good folks that come into this bar have votes just like the rest of them. This is my core,” I boasted.
“Oh, really? The drunks?”
“Hey, like I said, even drunks vote,” I replied.
We talked about the election. I told him about her threatening the rules last night. He suggested I call Remy sooner rather than later to give him a heads up. “If she means to cause trouble, she will. She’s never been anything, but trouble. I was happy the day Dylan came in here all tore up about her. Of course, I know now that he ran her off, so he could come after you.”
“I’m not sure that’s what happened, exactly,” I denied. It was exactly what happened.
“What about the kitsune?” he asked.
“What about her? Dylan says he wasn’t with her. I believe him,” I said.
“Of course, he didn’t, but if she’s pregnant, someone did it,” he said.
“I’m not sure that affects me,” I said.
“What if it was your bard?” he offered.
I laughed. “She didn’t want a half-breed as she called him.”
“Maybe she got desperate,” he said.
“Even if he did, I’m fine with it. Better than Kady,” I said, pulling out my phone to call Remington Blake.
“Morning beautiful,” he answered.
“Morning Remy, I might have a legal issue with Stephanie. She doesn’t like the election rules. We based them on state and local election rules. I’m not sure what she has, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it today. Mind taking a look at the rules for me?” I asked.
“Anything for you, my dear,” he replied. “She’s hell on wheels. Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about with this election. When it’s all said and done, her true colors will show.”
“I certainly hope so. I don’t have the same confidence,” I said.
“Just be yourself. We all love ya,” he said. “Email me the rules and call me when she stirs the pot.”
“Thanks, Remy,” I said.
“That man would do anything you asked him to do,” Nestor said.
I groaned. It was true, and I tried not to abuse it. However, I paid him to do my legal work. So, I didn’t feel too bad. As long as he didn’t expect anything else out of the deal.
Levi came in the door with a blue plaid flannel shirt and jeans. He scratched his head because he’d let his hair grow out. It was getting a bit too long.
“Bikers don’t wear flannel,” I told him.
“Heh,” he responded while pointing to the coffee pot.
“I ain’t yo’ mamma. Get it yourself,” I told him. “Levi, did you sleep with that kitsune?”
He spit coffee across the bar. “What the hell, Grace? No. I didn’t.”
“I just wondered,” I said. “You gotta stop spitting coffee everywhere.”
“I wouldn’t if you didn’t say such things,” he accused.
“You love it,” I replied.
“I do,” he admitted with a twinkle in his eye. “She was hot. The fox. I did some di
gging on them on the internet. They can be pretty seductive. Shapeshift. She could be pretty deadly if she wanted to be. So, why would she be afraid of a demon?”
“Any new fairy in town is a potential threat,” Nestor offered. “The kitsune. The demon that chases her.”
“Stephanie,” I added. Levi gave me a high five.
“Yes, even Stephanie. Grace, you need to be careful. She is ruthless. If she wants something, she will get it. I’ve heard that when she started working for the law firm, she told everyone she wanted to be engaged to Sergio. She made that happen. He was with someone else, but she’s disappeared. I’m not implying that she offed her or anything, but maybe. If she wants your job, she will do whatever it takes.”
“Why should I be afraid of her?” I asked. “It’s not like she can hurt me. She’s only an elf.”
“She is a royal elf with many servants,” he said. “You have Dylan and Levi.”
“No, I have Dylan, Levi, You, Remy, Troy, Amanda, Mable, should I keep going?”
“I’m sure you could add thirteen Yule Lads and a Krampus to that list,” Levi said.
“Exactly. I’m not afraid of Stephanie Davis,” I said confidently.
“That fucking bitch,” I yelled looking at the paperwork her lawyer delivered. “She’s gone after every single rule. This stupid election was not supposed to be about me!”
“Sit down and eat,” Dylan coaxed. He’d brought me a cheeseburger and fries from the diner which was my favorite meal from there. However, Miss Davis’ antics left me with a bad taste in my mouth that no cheeseburger will fix. “Send the paperwork to Remington.”
“She’s even mad with the hours to vote. It’s the same as the state elections! Except we added a few hours at night for the fairies that don’t do daylight,” I groaned.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Dylan said, sitting on a bar stool watching television. I slapped the paperwork down on the bar, taking one of Dylan’s fries. He tried to steal it back. “You have your own. Quit eating mine.”
“Eating yours is more fun,” I said. He visibly flinched.
Closing his eyes to fight off whatever it was that hit him, he looked at me, “Could you not?”
“That’s fine. I won’t eat yours anymore,” I teased.
