by Kimbra Swain
“All right. I’m going down to the Council meeting. If you need anything, you can call me.”
“I know, Grace,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
I’ll be fine, he said which meant he wasn’t fine. At least not right now. Made me hurt to know he talked to Dylan about his problem, not to me. I knew that sometimes a man needed to talk to another man, but Levi had always talked to me. I stared at the door for a moment thinking he might change his mind but he didn’t.
Driving the big red truck through town, I noticed all the new faces. Before I received my father’s power, I had had a difficult time telling the difference between different kinds of fairies. Once that power was laid upon me, each type of fairy was like a neon blinking sign on top of their heads. It wasn’t just fairies either, it went for all sorts of beings. I knew looking at Dylan that he was a Phoenix crossed with a Thunderbird. I knew that Troy and Amanda were werewolves. But most importantly, I could identify my enemies immediately. Thankfully, the only trouble we’d seen in Shady Grove since Brock took over the Otherworld had limited itself to mischievous fairies.
The biggest problem we had was population. Remington Blake and his partner were building apartments as fast as they could. The trailer park had doubled in size. It was almost like the humans who still lived in town knew something was up. Little by little they sold their homes, farms, and businesses and moved out of town. There were very few normals left, but most of them knew about us fairies. Like Matthew Rayburn and his daughter.
The Council was overwhelmed with requests. Most of them were silly things like a Seelie elf that might live next door to an Unseelie fairy or troll. There were very few Seelie in town. The influx had come from the unsavory territories as Brock pushed through while destroying anyone who stood in his way. The reports I had received from the Otherworld were grave, but to be honest, I didn’t feel any responsibility for that. My father’s own people drove me out of the Otherworld, so why in the world would I save it now? If it threatened Shady Grove, then I would deal with it. However, if Brock kept his activities to the eternal winter of the Otherworld, then I didn’t care what he did in Unseelie.
As I entered the building, I heard angry voices filtering through the hall. “Oh, hell, they are fighting again,” I told the wall. In my debate against Stephanie, I had made the lofty implication that we would be able to work things out. However, I ended up being the mediator most of the time for four adults who couldn’t see eye to eye on anything. All of them were friends, but politics brought out the claws. Diego Santiago’s claws scared the crap out of me. Mr. Santiago, one of the council members, was a bear shifter from Mexico. His temper was enormous, like his claws. You know what they say about stubborn and bears, it was all true. I wasn’t sure if he conceded a vote or negotiated point on any issue. He stated his opinion and that was his vote, and for him that was the end of it.
The voices grew louder as I approached. When I turned the corner, Mr. Santiago stood yelling at Nestor Gwinn, my grandfather, and Dr. Tabitha Mistborne, my best friend. Anger welled up inside me. I pulled my authoritative power and leveled the command. “Sit down and shut up.”
The bear slumped down in his chair with a snarl. “It’s about time you showed up.”
“You look like you feel better,” Tabitha said.
“I do. Thank you,” I said staring at the bear. “What is your deal?”
“We’ve discussed this over and over, but you people don’t seem to get it. We cannot continue to mix the races. Our neighborhoods are in danger just because we don’t know how to get along. I’m not saying we shouldn’t try, but at some point, we need to realize that some of us just don’t get along well with others,” Diego offered.
I walked up to the round table and took my seat. Nestor gasped my hand, squeezing it. I gave him a weak smile. “You aren’t wrong. I think for the time being we need to ensure that those who live together in the neighborhoods can get along. If not, we can relocate as necessary. However, I’d like to see some community events planned to unite all of us. We are all exiles. Some of us are scared and away from home for the first time in hundreds of years. I know that it won’t be easy, but we have to try to get along. That starts in this room. I’m sick of coming in here and listening to the four of you bickering. We learn to get along, or I’ll dissolve the council. It seems like I’m the deciding vote most of the time anyway.”
“That’s a dangerous road, Grace,” Nestor said.
“I agree. It is. But what choice do I have when the four of you act like you were born in a barn?” I replied. “I don’t have the temperament for it.”
“You can’t dissolve the council. The shifters would revolt,” Diego said.
“And?” I asked. “Is that supposed to scare me? Perhaps you forget the authority I have here. Perhaps you forget that I allow this discussion to happen. If you and your constituents choose to abandon my rule, then you will be asked to leave Shady Grove. If you resist, you will be removed by force.” I could see in his eyes that the threat didn’t sit well with him. Tabitha shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Nestor buried his head in his hands.
“I agree with Grace,” Betty Stallworth made her presence known after sitting quietly watching the exchange. “This council was made to work things out. We don’t work anything out, we just split the vote forcing Grace to make all the decisions. No need to waste our time or hers if we can’t agree on anything.”
“Diego, I don’t want any of your people to leave this community. You are part of what we are doing here, but I will not tolerate the general disdain for my authority here. Now, what is the proposal that we are currently discussing?”
Diego rumbled for a moment. “Neverland Cottages, a traditionally Seelie community, has a new resident, a werehog shifter. The community wants the pig to move. The neighborhood association has requested the council to review the situation and make a ruling.”
“Werehog? Purcell moved into a neighborhood?” I asked, knowing that Chris Purcell loved his place in the wild. I couldn’t imagine him domesticated.
“It’s one of his wives. He is in and out of the house, but doesn’t live there,” Tabitha said.
“Is the pig causing problems for the neighbors?” I asked.
“No,” Nestor muttered.
“So, it’s a prejudiced thing? I won’t have it. Tell the neighborhood association to get over it. If the pig causes problems, then I will deal with it personally. Purcell and I are on good terms. I’ll go over there this afternoon just to visit. Show my support of the new addition to the neighborhood. This is the kind of shit we need to get over so we can deal with the real issues.”
“It will be a real issue when someone loses their temper,” Diego said.
“Then, we should do everything we can to prevent it. Including you supporting the desegregation of the neighborhoods. If we stand together on these things, it will go a long way to show everyone that we want this to work. We have to get along. Shady Grove is inundated with fairies. The humans are moving out. We are going to have to rely on each other. It’s time to get over petty prejudices,” I said. “Anything else on the agenda?”
“Not today,” Betty replied as the chairwoman of each meeting. “However, we might consider bringing ideas to the next meeting for a community event.”
“I agree. Perhaps something around St. Patrick’s Day,” I suggested.
“Or Eostre,” Tabitha offered. Eostre, Ostara or Easter as it was modernly called was like many other celebrations by the Christians. They were based on pagan traditions. Either day would provide us with a great opportunity to celebrate.
“What day is Easter this year?” Betty asked.
“April 1st,” Tabitha said.
“I don’t want to wait that long. I wish we would have celebrated Imbolic as a town. Let’s think about it and meet back in two days,” I said.
“Agreed,” Betty replied.
“Diego?” I prompted.
“Agreed,” he muttered. Tabitha and Ne
stor nodded.
“Great. I’m hungry, and I’ve got a handsome man waiting for me,” I replied. Diego stood and stomped out of the room. “Well, that’s always so much fun.”
“You do look better, Grace,” Betty said.
“I am better. I’m headed to the diner to meet Dylan and Troy,” I said.
“Troy?” Nestor asked.
“Yeah, Dylan finally got around to asking if I minded if he rejoined the sheriff’s department,” I smiled.
“Why didn’t you just tell him if you already knew he wanted to do it?” Nestor asked.
“What fun is that?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Love you, Grace. Come by the bar when you are done.”
“Sure thing,” I replied.
“I’m headed to the diner. See you there,” Betty said grabbing her massive purse to head out the door.
“What about you, Doc?” I asked Tabitha.
“What about me?” she asked.
“How’s the boyfriend?” I asked.
“Meh,” she replied.
“I mean don’t brag about him or anything,” I teased.
Nestor laughed as he left alone. Tabitha and I walked out to our vehicles together. She’d been dating Sylvester Handley’s son, Michael. I took it as it wasn’t very serious. “Sex isn’t good?” I asked.
“No, it’s fine,” she said.
“If it’s just fine, it isn’t good enough,” I said.
“It’s good enough,” she laughed.
“Then what is it?” I asked.
“He wants to be serious,” she said.
“So, be serious,” I replied.
“Not what I want. I’m too busy at the hospital to be serious. It’s okay. We aren’t breaking up or anything,” she said.
I decided to stop prying. If she wanted me to know more, she would tell me. “Wanna go grab a bite to eat?”
“No, I’m supposed to be at work. I took a break to come to the meeting,” she replied.
“How’s the hospital handling all the humans leaving?” I asked.
“Our staff has been replaced with fairy healers from the realm. I’m glad to have them. Most of our cases are fairies anyway. The workload has gone down though. We might just convert the med center into a small clinic. I’ll talk about it later. I gotta run,” she said hopping into her Volkswagen Beetle.
“See ya later,” I said.
Troy and Dylan guffawed at a joke that preceded my entrance into the diner. When the bell hanging from the door frame announced my arrival, Dylan perked up, “Hey baby, come have a seat.” He patted the chair next to him. He looked better than he had in weeks. I knew my condition had weighed on him, but I didn’t realize how much until now.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Well, it seems that ol’ Lamar. You know, peg leg Lamar. Got himself in another fix,” Dylan said.
“Please tell me he wasn’t cow tippin’ with that leg again,” I said.
“No, nothing like that. He called me out to Parsons Road the other day. He was doing something out in the woods and got stuck in some mud. It buried him up to his knee joint,” Troy explained.
“Just the peg leg?” I asked.
“Naw. Both of ‘em, but he was struggling when I got there. Good thing he had his cell phone or he might have been out there a long time in the mud. By the time I got him out, we were both covered in mud,” Troy said.
“What was he doing out there?” I asked.
“He wouldn’t tell me. He was too embarrassed,” Troy said. “Nothing to worry about, you know Lamar is harmless. Mostly.”
“Seems like a stupid thing to do for no reason,” I replied.
“He’s not the smartest tool in the shed,” Troy replied.
“Yeah. Like a wooden doorstop,” Dylan added. He and Troy both died laughing again. Something about men, wood, and immaturity always made a joke that I’d never completely understand.
Betty sat a cheeseburger and fries in front of me. Dylan kissed my temple. He’d ordered for me because he knew everything about me. “Thank you,” I said.
“You are welcome, my love. How was the meeting?” he asked.
“Diego is wound up about a werehog living in Neverland,” I said.
A confused look crossed his face. “Purcell?”
“One of his mates apparently,” I said.
“Interesting,” he replied.
“Her name is Henrietta. She’s nice. A little plump for my taste,” Troy grinned.
“Why is she living in a house instead of in the wild?” I asked. I knew they said she was domesticated, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how Chris mated with a tame pig.
“She’s never been feral. I think he took her from a farm somewhere. The farmer thought she was just a regular pig,” Troy said.
“How romantic,” Dylan quipped.
“Well, the residents of Neverland aren’t happy about her living there. They are raising a stink. I’m going there after I leave here,” I said.
“She must be happy,” Dylan said.
“Huh?” I questioned.
“You said they were raising a stink. You know what they say about a pig in shit,” he smiled. Troy died laughing. I shook my head at the terrible joke. Men.
“You going with me?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure. The Sheriff here says I don’t have to start work until tomorrow,” Dylan said while still snickering.
Troy and Dylan continued to talk and make their pig jokes. The male-chauvinist kind. I was lost in my thoughts about planning a town gathering and trying to figure out how in the world one pig could cause so much trouble.
“Grace,” Levi’s voice startled me.
“You okay?” Dylan asked.
“Fucking Levi,” I muttered. Dylan shook his head and returned to Troy. “What’s up, Levi?”
“Riley wants to talk to you about something,” he said.
“What is something? When? Where?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Tonight. She asked if you would meet her at Hot Tin at 8 p.m.” he said.
“Okay. I’ll be there, and you think you are cute blocking your thoughts from me, but you know as well as I do that I can get through that if I wanted to. It only means you don’t trust me anymore, and I don’t know how we got to this place, but I hate it. I hate it, Levi.” I buried my head in my hands so that no one else saw my frustration with Levi. Perhaps Riley could let me in on whatever was bothering him. Dylan’s warm arm wrapped my waist.
“Nothing is wrong with us. You are paranoid. Just stop,” he scolded.
“Whatever, Levi,” I said shutting him out of my head. When I looked up Troy was gone. “He left?”
“Yeah, he had a call and had to go. You okay?” Dylan asked.
“Levi,” I said.
“You gotta let it go, Grace. Levi has always come around when he was ready to come around,” he said.
“It’s not that. He said Riley wants to meet with me,” I said.
“Why?” Dylan asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “She will be at the bar tonight.”
“Okay. Ready to go to Neverland with me?” he smiled.
“You got pixie dust?” I asked.
“I’ve got a red Camaro,” he offered.
“Good enough. I’ll move my truck around to the bar,” I said.
As we drove past the sign for Neverland Cottages, it reminded me of a conversation I had with my lawyer recently. Remington Blake and his colleagues from New Orleans had single-handedly taken over the real estate market in Shady Grove. As the humans moved out, Blake and his cronies would swoop in to buy up the land. Tearing down farmhouses that had dotted the countryside to put up small housing developments like Neverland Cottages. They were those itty bitty zero lot line houses. Garden homes, he called them. We needed the housing, but he kept naming the neighborhoods after mythical locations. Neverland Cottages, Bag End Circle, Camelot Village, Wonderland Lakes, Narnia Springs, and the list goes on. It
was getting pretty stupid, but the fairies ate it up. He’d even gone so far has to have contests to name the next neighborhood. I needed to talk to him about ideas for a community gathering. He had ways of making all the fairies get along beyond the fact that he was the biggest flirt known to the entire world, fairy or not.
Dylan pulled his Camaro into a small drive behind a Pepto-pink Beetle.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said looking at the car.
“It’s hideous,” Dylan replied.
I made a gagging noise, and he laughed. “Sorry. I should be diplomatic, I suppose,” I replied.
“Probably,” he smiled. I started to get out when he grabbed my hand. “I’ve missed you, Grace.”
Leaning over to give him a kiss, I said, “I’ve been here the whole time.”
“It wasn’t the same,” he said.
“I know, but it’s better now,” I replied.
“Yes, it is,” he said as he released my hand.
We walked up the tiny sidewalk to the garden home. As we approached, the grating noise of a female voice carried through the house, “If you are going to smoke those god-forsaken cancer sticks, get outside and do it.”
“Yes, Etta,” Chris Purcell’s sly voice answered.
The front door opened, and Chris stepped out on the porch. His handlebar mustache twitched when he saw us. “Why hello, Grace, it’s good to see ya,” his drawl seemed heavier than normal.
“You in the doghouse?” Dylan asked.
“Naw. More like in a hell of a poke,” he replied. “How can I help y’all?”
“I’ve come over to see if I can do anything to smooth relations. I hear that Henrietta has been having a tough time with the neighbors,” I said.
He rolled the cheroot between his fingers watching it smoke. After taking a drag, he said, “Things are a little tense. However, I’m not sure it requires the attention of the fairy council or its Queen.”
“I don’t mean to pry at all, Chris. I’m just trying to help out,” I replied.
The front door swung open, and Chris cringed.
“Christopher Purcell! Why didn’t you tell me we had visitors?” a plump woman with golden locks and an upturned nose said.
