The Accidental Fairy, page 11
It had been a long, self-centered time since she’d thought about anyone else’s pain but her own, but she knew Raff, and she knew he was in pain.
Putting a hand on his thigh, Prim whispered the words she’d always whispered to him when he was troubled. “I’ll be your paper towel, Monroe.”
It had once been an old joke between them. When either of them had a problem, they’d say, “Spill it.” One day, right after her mother told her she was marrying Smitty, and Prim had been beyond distraught, Raff had come over after school, found her crying, and told her to spill it.
Prim had joked through the tears that the “spill” was too big to clean up. Raff, in his typically creative way, told her he’d help her clean it up—he’d be her paper towel and absorb all of her sorrow.
From that day forward, it had always been their private joke. One among many, but an important one in later years.
Raff looked at her for a moment, as if he were really seeing her again, obviously remembering their ritual from so long ago…but he suddenly shook his head. “Nah. No spills here, Dunham. No mess to clean up.”
She knew that was a lie, and it hurt that he wouldn’t confide in her. But how could she pressure him to tell her what was going on when she could barely allow herself to think about why she’d cut off all ties with him?
It’s a real slap in the face, huh? Does it sting, Primrose? Because you deserve it.
She refused to share anything with anyone because it was harder to share than hide. But mostly, she didn’t share because she was ashamed, and the secret she held tight to her chest was bigger than she’d ever be.
Grabbing Raff’s hand, strong and cold, Prim held it tight for a moment before letting go. “I’m still sorry I did you like that.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about this. A fairy? I mean, it could’ve been something cooler, like a vampire or a werewolf. But a fairy? How am I gonna explain that to the guys on the bowling league?”
“Sexist much?” If anyone could wear a pair of wings and still look manly, it was Raff.
“Fucking patriarchy. It’s hard to shake. My apologies.”
Prim giggled, tucking her jacket around her as more snow began to fall. “The next time I turn you into something, promise I’ll try and make sure it includes big pointy teeth and a lot of drool.”
Raff laughed the way they used to, but then he sobered. “So…this thing about your mother…”
She nodded, staring off into the curtain of snow. “I’ve been thinking about it. You know, I don’t get it. We look almost identical. If you look at some of the pictures I have of my mom when she was my age, we look exactly alike. She always used to say that. Is that some kind of fairy voodoo? Did they sprinkle some of that dust ball madness over me to make me look like her?”
Rafferty’s shoulders bunched upward. “Could that notion be any crazier than some of the other stuff that’s happened? But that’s not why I asked. I’m asking if you’re okay. You just found out your mother likely isn’t your biological mother. I realize we don’t know for sure, but if it’s true, that’s huge, Prim.”
Yeah. It sure was huge. But… “I don’t care whose bits I came from. Liesl will always be my mother. She was the best mother ever, and if what Sten says is true, and she swapped me out for a human baby, my fairy mama was a homicidal maniac. She belongs on Investigation ID, not making friends with the kid she dumped. I’ll pass on that bullshit, thanks.”
He looked surprised. “I really expected you to be far more upset. I thought you’d be angry, feel betrayed, call your whole life a lie, that type of stuff.”
Now she looked down at her feet. To deny how much she’d loved her mother was to deny her very soul. “I won’t lie and say this isn’t freaking me out. It is. But my whole life wasn’t a lie. My life until… My life was great. My mom was the greatest. Maybe she didn’t know I wasn’t biologically hers, maybe she did…and if she did, she loved me just as hard. So does that part matter?”
Raff sat silently for a moment, the snowflakes sticking to his thick lashes. “No. I guess it doesn’t.”
Then she remembered his mother, and what happened, and the guilt clawed at her stomach again. “I’m sorry… How’s your dad?”
Mr. Monroe was a kind, gentle, quiet soul, and when his wife was murdered, he’d silently fallen apart for a while.
Raff’s smile was wan as he sighed. “He’s really good now. Moved to Oregon. He loves it there, and I have to admit, the pictures he sends are beautiful. He met a really nice lady named Tara, pronounced Tar-ahhh with a long a, thank you very much, and she’s done wonders bringing him out of his shell.”
Prim smiled, too. No one deserved a happy ending more than Mr. Monroe. He’d been an important figure in her life for as far back as she could remember—always warm, always welcoming, and nuts about Raff’s mother, Sandy.
But what he’d been through when she was murdered had been ugly and brutal.
She wanted to ask if there was any new information after all these years, because Sandy Monroe’s murder had been unsolved, but that wound was so raw, still so wide open, she couldn’t.
“I’m glad to hear your dad is happy. I was surprised when I came back and saw he kept the house.”
Raff’s nod was slow. “He kept it for me, thinking I might want to have some place familiar to hang my hat when I came back to the States.”
“You still have that poster of Angelina Jolie hanging in your bedroom?”
Grinning, he nodded. “Not much has changed over there, that’s for sure.”
“Well, you can update it as you go. It’s still in really great shape.”
But once more, Raff shook his head, his voice quiet. “I think I’m gonna sell.”
Prim froze, her fingers turning to ice inside her jacket pockets. If Raff sold, she wouldn’t have to see him in their side-by-side driveways and either avoid making eye contact, or duck into her car with a quick wave.
But as much as she avoided him, as much as she told herself she wished he’d leave her the hell alone? The thought of him selling rattled her; made her feel lonelier than she’d ever felt before.
Rather than reveal that. Rather than asking him to stay so she could blatantly ignore him some more, she kept her response casual. “Bet you’ll get a good price for it.”
“We’ll see.” Then he changed the subject. “So you don’t want to meet her? Your fairy-mama?”
“She allegedly sacrifices babies, Raff. To the devil. Do you want to meet someone who gives bribes to the fucking devil?”
He shivered. “Yeaaah. The devil…”
The way he said it, with such wonder, Prim knew he was in as much disbelief as she was over the fact that the devil really existed. “Is it me, or is that shit bonkers? Did you ever really believe Sister Juanita when she said the devil was real and we were going to Hell for lying about who stole Father Moynihan’s wine?”
Raff mocked an offended look. “We did not lie. It wasn’t us.”
“No. It was fucking stupid Patrick O’Hare, but we knew who did it.”
He held up a finger and shook his head with a playful smile. “But Sister Juanita didn’t ask us who took it. She asked if we took it, and we didn’t. So I think we’re safe from the bowels of Hell for today.”
“Hey, lovebirds, nice trip down Memory Lane, but we’re goin’ on a road trip and if I gotta go, you two fucking Tinker Bells do, too,” Nina said from the kitchen doorway.
“A road trip? The hell. I can’t go anywhere like this, Vampire Lady. I have a damn wing poking out of my back and pointy ears,” Prim protested. “I’m not going out in public.”
“Prim,” Wanda called, holding up a jacket that looked like it would fit around a mountain, wearing an expression that said she’d brook no back talk. “You will put this on and you will go out in public. Now come along. It’s time we get you two out of the house and out of your heads. We’re all just sitting around here waiting and it’s doing no one any good to brood. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, it’s snowing, and we’re going to celebrate the beauty of the season whether you like it or not.”
They were away from their families at a time when they should be cuddled up near a fire, watching Christmas movies and decorating their trees. Instead, they’d sacrificed all of that, those memories they couldn’t get back, to help her, and now Raff.
Don’t be an ungrateful asshole, Prim. Just this once, do something for someone else.
Marty stuck her head over Wanda’s shoulder and grinned. She wore a marshmallowy, fuzzy hat and cute elf-shoe earrings in glittering red and green. “Get your butts in here, front and center.”
As she rose and brushed off the snow from her jeans, Prim felt good, a warmth pervading her insides despite the cold.
That feeling came from finally talking to Raff after all these years. Almost the way they once had.
That’s what happy feels like, Primrose. It’s like sunshine on your face and fucking soft, fluffy kittens. Freshly baked Christmas cookies, a hug. This means you’re happy.
Yeah. She was happy.
Chapter
Thirteen
“C’mon, Rafferty, you chickenshit! Afraid I’ll kick your ass again?” Prim called in a teasing tone from the top of a snowy hill at the park near their houses.
Raff was busy situating Carl on a tube, making sure he was secure. “Just keep your dang drawers on, Dunham! I got your chickenshit!”
It had been Nina’s suggestion to go tubing, despite her grousing about not wanting to leave the house.
They’d grabbed hot chocolate from a local food truck, piled high with whipped cream and dredged in cinnamon, along with some warm, crispy, soft-on-the-inside glazed donuts, pulled some tubes from the back of Marty’s SUV (how they managed to produce every single thing needed, in the exact moment for every situation it was needed, was a mystery) and off they went.
Of course, there was no beating Nina the vampire. She’d plopped her ass down on one of those inner tubes and nearly created sparks as she’d zoomed down the hill, slicker than snot, cackling the whole way.
But Prim had come close, and along the way, she’d creamed Raff, who’d fallen off his tube after hitting a bump that left him flailing in the air before landing in a drift, laughing hysterically.
Christmas music played from the speakers on the stage where, in the summer, their town often hosted local bands and music festivals. The town had decorated the gazebo with twinkling colored lights and an enormous wreath, and strung lights in the trees on either side of the tubing lane.
Everyone was laughing and joking, and while Marty and Wanda had opted out of the fun in favor of tailgating in the back of the SUV, they cheered and catcalled them from the warmth of the car.
Prim closed her eyes and inhaled, finding it easier and easier to live in the moment and actually enjoy the memories the park brought. Much like her mother, Christmas had been her favorite time of year, too, and looking down at their town from this view, Prim could see why. Main Street was idyllic, all lit up and decorated with boughs of evergreens and red ribbons.
She and her mother used to come here every winter to tube, until she got sick. It was their way of kicking off the holiday season. They’d pack sandwiches and a thermos of her mom’s special butterscotch hot chocolate with tons of gooey marshmallows. She’d also make Rice Krispie treats with M&Ms in them, Prim’s favorite, and they’d listen to the music and simply be together.
When Smitty came along, as controlling as he became, her mom still found a way to sneak them off to spend a couple of hours at the park until she was too sick to do so.
At that age, she didn’t know how to talk to her mother about how Smitty made her feel. Sometimes, she wasn’t even sure her mother realized Smitty had taken over every aspect of their lives. But when Liesl met him, she’d been unaware she was in the beginning stages of her fight with cancer.
He’d come in all charming and affable, wining and dining her mother, bringing gifts to Prim. As their relationship progressed to marriage, Prim had still been wary, but she could never put her finger on what bothered her so.
Once Liesl married Smitty, it began as a subtle change. She had chores that went with his spare-the-rod, spoil-the-child mentality.
Little by little, she wasn’t allowed to do much of anything but go to school and study. After the incident with Stephanie, something he’d successfully kept from her mother thanks to her illness, Smitty tightened the rope around Prim’s neck until she almost couldn’t breathe.
But in her mind, telling her mother about it or complaining was absolutely out of the question. Liesl was in and out of the hospital during rounds of chemotherapy, and sometimes so sick, all she could do was sleep. No way would she trouble her mother with her worries.
“Mommy! Look! It’s one of Santa’s elves!” a little girl yelled at the top of her lungs in excitement, pulling her from her dark thoughts about treacherous Smitty.
She wore a pink and red snowsuit she could barely walk in, her chubby cheeks red from the cold. She waddled right up to Prim and tugged her jacket.
“Can I see your ears? Pleeease!”
Her hand instantly went to where her hat had risen up over her right ear. Shit.
“Alaina! That’s rude!” her mother chastised, huffing and puffing as she trudged her way up the hill, a sled in her fist. She looked at Prim with an apology in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. She’s beyond excited about Christmas.”
But Alaina was a curious, determined little lady. She tugged at Prim’s jacket again. “Can I touch ’em? Please?” She fisted her hands together in prayer.
Her mother rolled her eyes and grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Alaina! You cannot touch the nice lady’s elf ears!”
Prim knelt down in the cold snow. “I don’t mind at all.” She leaned closer to Alaina and let her run a gloved hand over the tip.
Alaina giggled. “They look so real,” she whispered with clear awe.
“Oh, my stars,” her mother agreed, her eyes wide. “They do…”
Prim stood up with a chuckle, brushing off her pants. “The mall doesn’t play.”
Alaina’s mother laughed nervously, almost as though she were relieved. “Of course! You work at the mall.”
Prim saluted her and winked. “Elf number three, at your service.”
“Hey, nugget,” Nina called, waving to Alaina with a smile so sweet, Prim almost fainted. She put a fist out to the little girl and waited for her to bump it.
Alaina’s eyes widened as she got a clear view of Nina. “Ohhh, you’re like a fairy princess, but with mermaid hair. You’re so beautiful!”
Nina grinned softly. “But not as beautiful as you. So, are you excited for Santa?”
She jumped up and down as best she could in her snowsuit and pumped her fist in the air. “Yes!”
“C’mon, honey,” her mother urged, holding out her hand. “Let’s go get some hot chocolate and let these pretty ladies enjoy their night.”
Alaina grabbed her mother’s hand, but she didn’t leave without a parting shot. “Okay, bye, but… Hey, lady, can you please tell Santa I want a unicorn soooo bad! Oh, and an iPad and a motorcycle…”
As her tiny voice faded, both Prim and Nina laughed. “She’s gonna be a fucking handful someday.”
Prim agreed…and then she remembered Nina’s daughter Charlie, and the guilt she felt for keeping her from her family stung once more. “You have a little girl, right? Charlie?”
That made Nina beam, and if she wasn’t already beautiful enough, she was even more so when her little girl was mentioned. “Yep. Still a baby by vampire standards, if not in damn years.”
“Vampire standards?”
“We age slow. Really fucking slow. Charlie’s eleven in human years, but she looks like she’s about three.”
Prim blinked, digesting yet more whacky paranormal information. Then something occurred to her. “Holy shit! You’re not in your twenties?”
“Uh, no. I’m pushing GD fifty.”
“Damn,” Prim muttered, tucking her chin to her chest. “You’re old…er… Older! I thought you were my age.”
Nina leered at her. “But not too old to kick your fucking skinny ass.”
Prim gulped, but she knew when she was outmatched, so she clamped her lips shut and looked down the hill at the glisten of the snow beneath the moon.
“That’s some fucking primo snow, huh? Like damn glass,” Nina commented.
Prim made circles in the fluffy covering with her booted foot, tucking tighter into her enormous jacket, which had actually managed to hide her wing. “Yeah. It always is this time of year. I love to tube. It used to be one of my favorite things to do.”
Nina examined her, her eyes beautiful with the twinkle of Christmas lighting them. “Until?”
Prim blew out a breath, her lips tightening as if doing so would keep the information inside her mouth. “Until it wasn’t.”
Nina shrugged like it didn’t make a bit of difference as she looked at Prim with eyes that scrutinized. “You don’t hafta tell me shit, kiddo. It ain’t no skin off my nose. Though, it might lighten your gloomy ass up to un-fucking-load. But whatever.”
Without a hint of a warning, the words spilled out of her mouth. “My mother died of breast cancer when I was in the beginning of my senior year in high school. She was really sick for a long time, most of my high school years, and then she was just gone. Dead. That’s what happened.”
Nina put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Damn sorry about that, kiddo.”
Prim nodded, looking down at the snow-covered hill, fighting hot tears. Why was she always crying lately? “Yeah. Me, too.”
“So you two came here a lot?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, her heart tight, pounding hard in her chest. What the fuck was happening to her? Prim cleared her throat and gave a clearer answer. “Every year at the beginning of the season like clockwork, for as long as I can remember.”
Nina let her hand drop as she watched while Carl and Raff flew down the hill, laughing like loons, Carl tucked safely in Raff’s lap. “Where’s your pops?”
