“I’m good,” Rose said, trying to sound happier than she felt. It wasn’t a secret that she hadn’t been feeling overly happy lately, but talking with Mom wasn’t going to help. As much love as there was between them, there was also a lack of understanding that Rose had never been able to bridge.
“Are you sure?” her mother pressed.
Rose dumped a spoonful of cinnamon and some other spices in the bowl. There was no way around sharing. Mom had her cornered and knew it. “It’s just applying to colleges.”
“Are you worried about your test scores? You always do well.”
“No,” Rose said. “It’s not that.”
“Are you still trying to decide on a major?”
“Yes. But Mom, it’s Thanksgiving. Can we please not talk about it today?” Rose asked softly. It would be so much better if they could do it another time.
“I just think—”
“Mom, please?”
Rose’s mother shook her head and returned to basting the turkey while Rose started adding sugar to the pie mix. The sound of the football game wafting in from the living room covered the awkward silence.
The oven creaked as the door swung open, and Mom pushed the turkey inside. With the turkey out of the way, she moved to the stove and turned on a pot of green beans. “It’s important to pick a field where you’ll be able to get a job.”
“I know, Mom.” Rose set down the measuring cup. The conversation was rapidly approaching the point at which she would have to either be honest and make things worse or lie to make it better.
“Then what’s the problem? You’re good at math. Majoring in accounting is a great choice.”
Rose closed her eyes and counted to three before facing her mother. “I’ve told you before, I’ll major in accounting, but it doesn’t feel right. There has to be more to life than a boring desk job like that.”
“More what?” her mother said sharply.
Rose tensed. “I don’t know. More magic, more mystery, more…something.”
“Your grandmother told you too many stories when you were a child,” she snapped. She pivoted on one foot, walked over to the fridge, and rummaged around.
Rose closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere else. This was the sticking point. Every time she mentioned wanting more than a perfectly ordinary life, Mom lost her temper. Maybe her mom could be happy with each day looking much like the last, but Rose wanted more. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else in the family, but even the idea of it bothered her.
Mom sighed as she set a bowl of washed, peeled, and sliced apples at Rose’s elbow. “If you don’t like accounting, you can find a different major.”
It was an olive branch, one Rose was willing to take. “I’ll look.”
“On paper it’s a good job, but maybe something with more…varied work will come along. You might enjoy that more.”
Rose nodded. “I’ll do some research.”
“Just”—Mom pursed her lips—“figure it out before you go to school. You don’t want to waste time and money being wishy-washy in college.”
“Lily, leave the girl alone. It’s Thanksgiving,” Grandmother shouted from the front door. Rose smiled as she heard the door shut and then the thud of her brother’s shoes as he kicked them off. Grandmother still had bat-like hearing.
“I picked up Grams from her house,” Paul announced.
Rose rolled her eyes.
Mom shook her head. “Thanks for the warning, Paul.”
“That’s why I’m your favorite.”
Mom snorted and went back to her workspace.
Paul was Mom’s favorite. They understood each other somehow. When Rose was younger, she had wished for that kind of closeness with her mother. Dad had always tried to bridge the gap between them, but it was Grandmother who had the superpowers to smooth things out and keep Mom from asking too many uncomfortable questions.
Rose abandoned the pie, washed her hands, and hurried into the living room.
“Iris, good to see you.” Dad came around the couch and gave Grandmother a hug. “You haven’t visited in a while.”
“You take such good care of Lily that I don’t have to come around. Besides, I’ve got my garden, church, and two other children to pester.”
Dad laughed and turned to Paul. “What’s the verdict on Grams’s car?”
“Still dead in her driveway. It looks like it needs a new battery. I can take care of it tomorrow.” Paul flopped onto the sofa. “How’s the game going?”
“Two touchdowns while you were gone. It’s tied.”
“I knew they wouldn’t keep that lead,” Paul muttered as the two men were drawn back to the television.
Rose gave Grandmother a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, sweet pea, I’ve missed you, too.”
Resting her head against Grandmother’s shoulder, Rose remembered when Grandmother had stood straight and sturdy. Now her body was thinner and weaker, and she didn’t move as quickly; however, there was still a glint in her eye, and she was as sharp as ever.
Grandmother pulled back. “Now why don’t I give you a hand with those pies?” Her voice dropped. “We’ll finish them so quickly your mother will think elves helped.”
Rose laughed. Yeah, sure. Like her mom would ever believe in elves.
“Lily, we’re taking over those pies,” Grandmother said as they walked into the kitchen.
“No cayenne in the pumpkin pie this year, though.” Mom directed. “My mouth burned for half an hour, and only you and Rose could eat it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Grandmother waited until Mom was busy and turned away before she leaned toward Rose and said, “Only fill one of the pumpkins. I’ve got plans for the other one.”
“Mom said no cayenne,” Rose whispered. The spice had been a fun twist on the traditional pumpkin pie, but she had to admit it wasn’t for those with sensitive taste buds.
“’Course not.” She snorted. “This year it’s all about the chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Rose couldn’t picture the family being excited about a chocolate pumpkin pie, but it would be a delightful way to follow the letter of Mom’s orders.
“I had one at the bakery.” She smacked her lips. “Heaven. Trust me, they’ll like this one.”
Now that Rose thought about it, it seemed like a mouthwatering combination. “Chocolate it is.”
Rose put the piecrust in the pans, poured pumpkin filling in one of them, and started assembling the apple pie. Grandmother made sure Mom wasn’t looking, and then she set two cookie cutters on the counter. While she was busy doctoring the remaining half of the pumpkin filling with chocolate, Rose set to work cutting out crust dragons that would be connected nose to tail to decorate the top of the apple pie. Once that one was in the oven, Rose cut out pointy elf shoes to plop in the center of the pumpkin pies.
They were sliding the last pumpkin pie into the oven when Mom noticed the color. “What did you do to it?”
“It doesn’t have any cayenne in it,” Rose said.
“Chocolate pumpkin is all the rage this year,” Grandmother said as she slid it in and closed the door.
“You put chocolate in that poor pumpkin pie?” Mom asked.
“It was in one of those magazines you see at the grocery store. And the bakery had one, too. You have to keep up with the times.”
Mom shook her head and went back to mashing the potatoes. “It’s something different every year…”
“Got to keep things interesting.”
A little while later, Mom set her hand on her hips and surveyed the kitchen. “I think it’s time to start setting the table. Rose, do you mind?”
“Pish. We could still use her help in here. You let those men off too easy,” Grandmother said before Rose could speak. “Menfolk, it’s time for you to contribute. Set the table, pour drinks, and get ready to carve the turkey.”
“The game,” Paul said, looking from Grandmother to the television and back again.
&nbs
p; “Are they winning or losing?” Grandmother asked.
My brother didn’t move his gaze from the television when he spoke this time. “Down by four touchdowns. Their defense can’t get it together.”
“How far into the game?”
“Halfway through the fourth.”
“Get your rump in here and spare yourself the pain of watching them lose.” Grandmother set a stack of plates on the counter and pulled napkins out of a drawer.
“Always a charmer, Iris,” Dad said as he snagged the plates.
Paul followed him into the kitchen and collected the silverware and napkins. “One of these days I’ll be able to say they’re winning.”
“And when you do you can watch the rest of the game,” Grandmother said with a smile.
Soon they were all sitting down and Dad was saying grace. “Lord, thank you for the bounty before us, the family we love, our health, and the opportunities you’ve given us. Amen.”
The others echoed him. Seconds later, Dad was taking requests for turkey cuts and dishes were being passed around.
“Where’s the gravy?” Grandmother asked.
Rose looked at the table but didn’t see it.
Mom pushed back from the table. “Still in the kitchen. I’ll get it.”
Grandmother hurried after her, muttering something about butter. Dad nodded absentmindedly as he carved the turkey.
Paul passed Rose a plate of rolls. “How’s the college hunt going, sis?”
She looked up at Paul. He couldn’t mean anything by the question since he hadn’t been here when Mom had been pressing. “It’s all right.”
Paul raised an eyebrow. “Just all right? Last time we talked you were enjoying it.”
Rose shrugged and swirled her fork through the juice left on her plate by her green beans. “It’s not as fun anymore.”
“Why not? You were all excited about getting out on your own and being an adult.” Paul was getting that protective-brother tone in his voice.
Rose summoned a self-depreciating smile. “You know me, never content.”
“Rose…” Paul searched for the right words. “Maybe you should find a job in a bookstore or garden. Put off college until you know what you want to do.”
“You think?”
Paul nodded. “And if that’s what you chose to do, I’ll even help you break the news to Mom.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at her brother. That was just like Paul, to look out for two people he cared about at the same time.
Mom came back with the gravy, followed by Grandmother holding the butter dish. As soon as they were seated, Dad handed out pieces of turkey and they all finished filling their plates.
Grandmother looked up. “Lily, did I tell you what your brother has gotten himself into?”
Mom groaned. “What’s he done now?”
Rose was happy that most of the discussions avoided her and covered neutral topics. But as they started slowing down and saving room for pie, she knew it was only a matter of time before her college plans came up.
“Have you seen any interesting houses lately?” Rose asked Paul. He’d been a real estate agent for six years and loved it. Mom was thrilled with his practical choice of profession.
“There was this one with the washer and dryer in the kitchen. For some crazy reason, when the homeowners remodeled they moved cabinets—and the microwave built into them—from over the stove to over the washer and dryer. I don’t know what they were thinking, but it’s in a prime spot to spill hot soup on clean clothes.” Paul went on, and the entire table got a detailed description of the layout and the location of the microwave.
“I can’t believe your client wants to buy it,” Lily said.
Paul shrugged. “Good price, great location. People will overlook a lot of things. They can always renovate that part themselves.”
With that, Mom’s eyes flicked to Rose and the conversation shifted. “I was thinking about careers you might enjoy, Rose. Have you thought about becoming a teacher?”
Rose sucked in a breath. She had known Mom would circle back. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
“Mom.” Paul’s voice was soft but firm. “College isn’t right for everyone. There are very successful people who never attended college. Let Rose figure out what she wants to do on her own.”
Rose cringed, knowing things were about to get heated.
Mom’s eyes widened. “Are you saying she doesn’t want to go to college?” She pinned Rose with a glare. “If you don’t go to college, what will you do? You’d need to find something that pays well or you’ll never save up enough to buy a home or to set aside money for retirement.”
Rose swallowed, hoping it would steady her voice. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want to delay college. I need to think about it.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “You’ve been doing this for years. You need to pick a path and stick with it.”
The words stung, and from the expressions on Dad’s and Grandmother’s faces, they were appalled that Mom would come right out and say it. Paul shot Rose an apologetic look. She couldn’t blame him. This conversation would’ve happened at some point anyway.
“Honey, this isn’t the time,” Dad said softly.
“Neil, she’s stuck in a mentality where she can exist in the moment and never have to worry about reality and the future.”
“Rose doesn’t have to live her life the way you want her to or the way you live yours,” Grandmother cut in. “And really, when you say things like that, it discredits what she’s accomplished. She’s had straight A’s throughout high school, scored well on her SAT, and is applying to colleges. She’s had one acceptance already. Those are real accomplishments for a seventeen-year-old senior in high school. Give her space to breathe. She’s trying to do what you want.”
Rose sat there, biting her lower lip, and Paul squeezed her hand. It had been going so well—a simple family dinner without any unpleasant discussions—but Mom couldn’t let it go. Not that Rose had expected her to. After all, it would be a feat for Mom to understand Rose and allow her to follow her own path.
While the debate continued, Rose pushed back from the table, collected Paul’s plate and her own, and retreated to the kitchen. Moving methodically, she washed off the worst of the mess and set them in the dishwasher.
The only good thing about Mom’s criticism was that it showed how much she cared. If you knew what to look for—the slightly unsteady hands, the fear in her eyes—you could see her worry and concern. She only fought so hard because she cared, and that took some of the sting out of the comments. Some, but not all. It would take a confrontation to get the rest of the remarks to quiet down, but Rose just wasn’t up for any more fighting tonight.
They always started with the most unique pie, so she set the chocolate pumpkin pie, dessert plates, and a pie cutter on a tray. If she couldn’t make a direct assault, perhaps she could manage a misdirect and distraction. The surprise alone should end the argument, and if that didn’t work, well, she’d need to grow a spine and start standing up for herself. Though it was hard to do that when she wasn’t sure what she wanted.
Picking up the tray, she lifted her chin and did her best to hide the hurt. With each step closer to the door, her pulse sped up, and she took a deep breath as she stepped into the dining room. If her voice stayed steady, this could work.
Rose set the tray down at the end of the table and picked up the pie cutter. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry so she hoped the words came out strong enough. “Who wants to try the chocolate pumpkin pie? It’s Grandmother’s special creation, this year’s limited edition.”
Paul seemed to get what she was doing, and his voice was serious even as he winked. “I’ll take a big slice.”
Rose nodded, adjusted where she was cutting, and was handing the plate to her brother when her Dad spoke. “Could I get an average piece?”
“A big one for me,” Grandmother said.
After a long pause,
Mom said, “I’ll take one, too.”
Paul’s first bite was small and tentative, but he closed his eyes and gave a content sigh. Grandmother had a winner this year.
Rose passed out the slices to the others before taking one herself and returning to her seat. With the pleased sounds coming from everyone else, she didn’t hesitate to take a big bite. It was exactly what she’d hoped for when Grandmother had suggested it. All the goodness of pumpkin combined with the delight of chocolate in a piecrust. What more could a girl ask for?
The family pulled it together after that, and through cleanup, apple pie, and watching football, there was no mention of Rose’s future. Dad and Paul were quick to keep a steady stream of casual topics going, and Mom didn’t even try to change the subject.
Maybe it was a sign or maybe it was coincidence, but Rose’s parents retreated to their room at the same time Paul retired to his, leaving Rose and Grandmother alone in the living room.
Grandmother brushed a stray hair away from Rose’s face. “Magic is real.”
Rose shook her head. “You don’t have to say that. I know it’s only real in books.”
“Listen to me. Magic is real. It truly exists.” Grandmother took Rose’s hand. “Don’t stop believing in magic. If that’s what you want, don’t ever give up. If you want it enough, it will find you.”
There was an intensity in Grandmother’s eyes that Rose hadn’t seen before. For a moment she didn’t know what to say. Sure, there was magic in this world, but not the type from the stories she’d heard as a kid.
“Are you sure? Are you sure it’s real?”
Squeezing her hand, Grandmother said, “It’s as real as I am, if only you want it enough…if only you believe.”
Chapter 2
Silverlight trailed his hand along the white picket fence. He turned a corner at the end of the block, heading down yet another street of nearly identical suburban homes. They differed from one another in only the most superficial fashions—the color of the front door, the style of the trim, or the plants in the garden.
The magic that had followed him into this world scouted the nearby houses, trying to determine if anyone was worth a second look. He could hear the magic, a simple three-note tune, as it moved from one home to the next. In the house on his right there was a family of four, a husband and wife and two little boys. The home across the street belonged to an elderly couple. The next two dwellings had young families, each with a single child, and the house after that had three adolescent humans.
Fey Hearted Page 2
