An Ordinary Fairy (38 page)

Oh, gosh, I want you so badly. But not here, not in a cheap motel. It should happen at the cottage. At home.

“Well,” Noah said, “I need to finish those pictures before the chemicals go bad.”

“I should get back to my snake show.” They disentangled themselves. Willow settled back on the bed and Noah returned to the bathroom. He closed the door and then leaned against it, gasping deeply.

Are you having difficulty breathing, too?

Each print required about five minutes to expose and process. It was ten o’clock when Noah surveyed the damp pictures with some disappointment. There were some good images, but several showed issues with quality. Noah stacked the prints, left the bathroom and spread them out on the table. Willow quickly stood beside him, leaning over the table and squinting, oozing excitement.

“Anything good?” she asked.

“Maybe. But the Gremlin bit me.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, it’s a photographer thing. When you do everything exactly right and still get crap for results, you have to blame something. We call it the Gremlin. It’s a little creature that follows us around and messes with our cameras and stuff.”

Willow raised her eyebrows. “Sure. So are any of the pictures usable?”

“Some are good, but the ones that show Jones’s features the best, like this one, have some flaws. See these white spots? They’re caused by film handling problems. Little buckles form in the celluloid and make these crescent-shaped marks. This print has four of them. It’s odd though because I couldn’t see the buckles in the film even with my magnifying glass. Marks like that reduce the credibility of the print because it looks as if the negative was retouched.”

Willow squinted at the prints. “Can I borrow your magnifying glass? I can’t see these very well.”

“Sure, Granny,” Noah said. Willow’s withering look warned him against ever saying that again. He retrieved the glass from the bathroom and handed it to her. They both leaned over the table now, studying the prints. Willow picked up the one with the marks. She gasped when she held the glass up to it. Noah could feel a powerful wave of excitement burst from her. Her face lit up with emotion and glow.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Noah, you’re a goose!” She handed him the print. “It’s wings!”

“What?” Noah asked as he peered at the photo.

Willow hopped in a circle. “It’s wings! It’s wings! It’s wings!” she sang. “Look at it, Noah! It’s my mother!”

Noah examined the print. Four tiny white crescents showed in two opposing pairs like waning and waxing moons. Each pair was one above the other, with the upper moon somewhat larger, Noah thought because of symmetrical buckling of the film. Faintly visible between the marks was the outline of a small figure, shaped like the white blob in the picture of himself and Willow. The crescents were fairy wingtips.

“I’ll be damned,” Noah said. “I’ve heard of people using infrared film to supposedly photograph ghosts, but I only halfway believed it.”

Willow wasn’t listening. She was busy poring over the other photos with the magnifying glass. She found another print with one pair of wingtips and half of the fairy’s body. A larger faint white area next to it must be her father, she concluded.

“I told you they were still there,” Willow said. “I knew it. I can always feel them. You felt them in their room.”

“I wonder why they’re still hanging around. Aren’t ghosts supposed to cross over or something?”

“Not if they have unfinished business. Like protecting the house. Or telling me how they were killed. Did you notice when Chester was in the kitchen, they were, too? I bet they followed him wherever he went.”

“Maybe we should try to contact them,” Noah said.

Willow grew suddenly still. “What did you say?”

“It’s possible to communicate with departed spirits. I’ve never done it, but I’ve read about it. I don’t mean to have a conversation with them, but at least to sense their presence. As strongly as you feel them, it shouldn’t be difficult.”

Willow looked skeptical. “I always thought all that seance stuff was just charlatan tricks.”

“Most of it is, but not all. It’s like the myth that fairies exist. There’s some truth to it. This couldn’t happen at a better time, either, since next week is—”

“Halloween! Everyone knows that’s when the spirits walk the earth!”

“Well, that’s more the stuff of legend, but it is the time when the veil between the spirit world and our world is thinnest. Wiccans call it Samhain, and we celebrate it as our New Years Day. Perhaps we could do a Ritual for the Dead.”

“Really? That would be tremendous! Thank you, Noah.” She gave him a painfully tight hug.

“We should let these prints dry before we damage them,” Noah said, “and I need to clean up the chemicals. You can look at these but don’t touch them any more than necessary.” Willow nodded.

Noah cleaned up the mess in the bathroom and packed the enlarger away in the bottom of the closet. When he finished, Willow was lying on the bed watching the television.

“Scoot over,” he said. Willow complied and he stretched out. As soon as he settled on his back, she snuggled against him on her side and laid her head on his shoulder. Noah put his arm around her.

For several minutes, they learned about snakes. At least Willow did. Noah was oblivious. No man could watch television with a beautiful fairy lying with him. He gently stroked her hair. She craned her neck back to look at him, revealing glowing cheeks.

“We’re breathing together,” she said.

“We are?”

“The whole time we’ve been lying here we’ve been breathing exactly in sync. Here, feel.” She took his hand and held it to her chest between her breasts. Now Noah felt it, too, the matched rhythms of their bodies. Willow’s heart beat softly beneath his hand.

“I wonder if our hearts can beat together, too?” he whispered.

Willow smiled slightly, but then her face grew serious.

“Noah, I did a lot of thinking today. About you, and me, and us. You’re right, there’s always been an
us
. Call it what you will, fate, destiny, reincarnation … that’s all too complicated for this simple fairy woman. All I know is what my heart tells me. You were
meant
to appear at my door. I’m glad you did, and I’m glad you took a chance on a reclusive, bitter little woman. I thought I could never be tender with a man again, but here you are.” She paused and bit her lip. “Long ago, Noah, I made a big mistake. The man I told you about … you’re so like him…” She stopped again, as if unsure of her words. Tears formed in her eyes. “I let him leave. And I’ve been alone ever since. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

She climbed atop Noah and kissed him gently.

You’re not afraid.

Willow moved her lips to his ear and whispered. “I don’t want to be alone anymore, Noah. I want you.”

Noah wrapped his arms around his fairy, his friend, his lover.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered.

Nineteen

N
oah turned the truck around as usual when they reached the tree across the lane, not easy to do with Willow sitting as close as possible with her hand resting on his leg. They decided to forego using a flashlight in case Jones was prowling. Willow clasped tight to Noah’s hand and guided them through the dark. When they reached the cottage, she opened the gate and door and flipped on the light. Warmth flowed out, as well as the wonderful aromas of home.

They stripped off their coats and hats and removed their shoes and boots. Shadow, who had waited dutifully for their arrival, trotted off to the pool room for a drink and a snack. Willow stepped down to the floor.

“A girl’s wings need a good stretch after being confined all that time.” She stripped off her sweatshirt and tossed it up into the loft. The red amulet around her neck contrasted with a white camisole.

You wore that little camisole the night you showed me your wings.

“It’s kind of like when you
gotta
crack your knuckles,” she said. She pulled her wings out of her jeans and waved them about every direction, and then shook them, starting at her back and proceeding to the tips.

You will never know that I call that “the dog shake.”
He grinned at her.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m still getting used to seeing a person pop their wings out.”

“That wasn’t a pop,” she said with her trademark mischievous grin. She lowered her wings so they hung straight down behind her. “
This
is a pop.” She brought her wings rapidly to flight position, creating a loud crack that made Noah jump. “Ta da!” she said and spread her arms out wide.

“Cool.”

“Would you like some tea?” she asked.

You’ll convert me to tea yet.
“Sure.”

Willow hummed to herself while she filled the teakettle. Her glow reflected from the microwave.

Every day you edge away from the darkness.

“I need to get out of these jeans,” Willow said as she returned from the kitchen.

“Go right ahead,” Noah said.

“I should have said change out of these jeans. And I was talking to myself.” She flashed a flirty smile and fluttered her wings.

“Oh. My mistake.”

She bounded up the stairs two at a time. Noah heard her fumbling in drawers and then the rustle of the tight jeans sliding off her legs. He glanced up and could see her head above the loft wall as she stood up. She smiled and turned her back. From her movements he knew she was turning back the bedcovers.

Perhaps I should go up and help…

Willow careened down the stairs, humming softly. She still wore the camisole but had changed into gray exercise shorts and was barefoot. Her expression was quizzical.

“What were you thinking?” she asked.

Noah’s face colored. “I was thinking I’m glad you put on shorts because I like your gorgeous legs.”

Willow’s radiance intensified and she blushed. “My fat fairy legs?” she said, extending a leg out in front of her. “They look like Bumble legs.”

“Willow, nothing could be farther from the truth. There’s not a fat thing on you.”

She smiled, but her look said she doubted his sincerity.

“Are you warm enough?” she said. “I’m going to build up the fire.” She busied herself with the wood stove, kneeling with her back to Noah. She opened the door, stirred the coals and added wood, and then dropped to her hands and knees to blow on the flames.

Oh, my. What a view.

Willow rose upright on her knees and looked over her shoulder. Her glow faded; confusion clouded her features.

“What was that?” she asked. “Is that what a man feels when…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just…” Noah could feel his face and ears turning red. He nearly broke his own rule on apologies. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Willow closed the stove door, rose to her feet and sat down next to him on the sofa. She snuggled under his arm, drew her legs up to her chin, and sat in a ball with her wings tucked behind and beneath her.

“Upset isn’t the right word,” she said. “It was … creepy. I had no idea it felt that way for a man. It was so … intense, so … what’s a good word … visceral? Is that how I make you feel?”

“Not always. Sometimes. Well … often.”

Like every time I look at you.

Noah fumbled for words, too lost in Willow’s eyes to concentrate. He took a big breath and let out a sigh. With both hands, he reached for her right hand and examined it. Turning it palm up and then palm down, he gently traced the graceful shape of her fingers and thumb. Laid on top of his hand, it was dwarfed.

“So tiny. So perfect,” he said while he contemplated the little hand. He pressed it to his cheek, kissed its back lightly and turned it to kiss her palm. He made himself look into her eyes. She met his gaze unblinking but her expression softened somewhat. Faint radiance returned to her cheeks.

“Willow, I used to think I knew what the word beautiful meant. It meant perfect hairdos, exact makeup, pretty clothes, and great figures, but I had it all wrong. I hadn’t met you yet, so I didn’t know any better.”

I can’t concentrate when you look at me this way!

Willow’s entire face illuminated and a smile brushed her features.

“Everything I knew about beautiful got tossed out the window the moment you opened your door to me the first time. I’ve never known a woman anything like you. You’re warm and caring and thoughtful and fun and enthusiastic and many other wonderful things, but open and vulnerable and brutally honest, too. You leave me speechless.”

Willow smiled. “Hmm. Seems to me you’re finding words.”

Noah shrugged. “Willow, what I let you feel is only part of my attraction to you. You draw me in every way. I … I’ve been all wrong about love.” He continued to look at her tiny hand. Over the next few seconds, a floodlight seemed to have fallen on it. He raised his eyes; Willow was the source, lighting up everything around her. Her face and neck shone, and the glow spread until it shone through the camisole. Her expression was at once enchanted and tender. She gently removed her hand from his and touched his cheek. Its strange warmth caressed his face.