Skye looked up, flashed her a brief smile, and said in a tired voice, “Hey. Have some coffee. I made a whole pot.”
Livy’s tension washed away. She took a moment just to breathe, and to thank the local fae in her mind, over and over. Then she shuffled forward, ready at last for coffee. “Awesome. Wow, how did I sleep longer than you?”
Skye’s pencil scraped and swished as she shaded part of her sketch. “From the sound of it, you worked way harder than the rest of us last night. Still, I only got up fifteen minutes ago myself.”
Livy poured a mug of coffee and sat across from Skye. She peeled a cheese-coated crust off Skye’s toast and ate it. “Are you drawing stuff from last night?” She could make out what looked to be a ring of flames and a bunch of spark-like things.
“Yeah. As much as I can.” Skye winced, squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them wide and blinked a few times. “Ugh. I still feel like crap. But I wanted to get it down before I forgot. I’ll want details on all the things you saw, too.”
“I know, I should’ve taken pictures. I wasn’t sure it was allowed. I wonder if you even can take pictures of them.”
“Doubt it. I tried to take a photo of the glowing mushroom path that got me into all this shit, and it only turned out looking like ordinary mushrooms.” Skye kept sketching, her hand dashing back and forth. “Anyway, I bet I could make a graphic novel out of this. It’s fairly epic. Argh.” The pencil slipped under her thumb and went rolling across the table. She wiped graphite off the side of her hand, and picked the pencil back up. “Trying to draw without your pinky takes some getting used to.”
Livy’s face hurt from smiling so wide. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you babbling like a freak again.”
Skye smirked. “Yeah, well. I still don’t want any fruit desserts.”
“Fair enough. I’m starving, now that you mention it.” Livy got up, wincing as all her muscles protested. She staggered to the fridge and examined the food inside. “I could make eggs. Would you eat eggs?”
“Sure.”
“I guess today we can’t force Grady to come cook for us.” Livy took out the egg carton.
Skye didn’t answer.
Livy found skillet and spatula, and bowl and whisk. “Have you heard from the guys?”
“No.” Skye kept her back turned, still sketching.
Livy picked up her own phone, plugged into the charger beside Skye’s, and checked messages. “Me neither. They must still be asleep.”
Skye didn’t answer that either.
Livy sent a text to Kit, for whenever he woke up: Hey, all ok here I think. How are you guys?
Then she navigated to email. “Message from Mom. Seeing how we’re doing after the snowstorm. Sounds like it hit Portland too.”
“Mm. Already melting here, though.”
Livy glanced out the window to find Skye was right; holes and slumped edges had appeared in the blanket of snow, and a drizzle was falling, eroding away the white. “Typical western Washington.” Livy put down the phone and set about making scrambled eggs.
She waited until she and Skye had eaten them, along with more toast and leftover salad, before bringing up what was seemingly the most sensitive topic.
“So. With Grady. Was that only a spell?”
Skye sighed a ponderous, drawn-out sigh. She slumped back in her chair and spent a while folding the dishtowel that lay across her lap. “Well, it was, but…I don’t know. Mainly I just hope he doesn’t hate me.” She leaned forward to rest her forehead in both hands.
“I really don’t think he hates you.”
“I almost ruined his life! And I molested him, like, constantly.”
“He looked to be enjoying the molesting just fine.”
“He was enchanted.”
“Exactly,” Livy said. “So were you. So no hard feelings on either side, right?”
Skye groaned, keeping her face hidden.
“Okay, it’s awkward,” Livy said. “I get that.”
“So awkward.”
“Well, what do you want to have happen?”
Skye massaged her forehead and scalp. “I’m still not sure I can trust my wants.”
“Of course you can. The spell is off you, I can tell.”
“I don’t believe it yet.” Skye stayed slumped over, face covered.
“It’s okay, no rush.” Livy picked up her plate and Skye’s, and rose. “You guys’ll sort it out.”
“Eventually. Ugh. I feel awful, like I have the flu. Everything aches. Walking is hard.”
“I bet. Well, take it easy. Rest up.” Livy took the plates to the dishwasher, then washed out the skillet in the sink. She glanced back at the table as she dried the spatula with a towel.
Skye had turned to a page covered with sketches of Grady: his profile, his back, his hand holding a kitchen knife, his foot in a sock. Leaning her temple on her knuckles, Skye drank in the drawings, her face naked with sadness and longing.
Hey. We’re alive, doing ok, Kit texted back to Livy, after waking up enough to function. He limped down the stairs and into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and swigged some milk from the carton. He leaned against the island counter and glanced at Grady, who was still in bed but awake, blinking at the ceiling.
“Think the bastards twisted my ankle throwing me around,” Kit told him.
Grady raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Sore all over here. Nothing broken, I don’t think. Just…missing.” He splayed his fingers above his face. His voice sounded husky and tired, but at least he was talking.
“Uh-huh. Already dropped my phone the first time I picked it up. Just because of one little finger gone. Who knew.”
A text buzzed in from Livy. Good. How’s Grady? Back to himself?
Grady got out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, and shut the door.
More or less I guess, Kit answered. Skye?
He set the phone down and started scouting for food. He decided on a box of freezer waffles and took it out.
Livy’s answer came back. Talking, drawing, sometimes smiling! Still… I think it’s serious. The relationship drama I mean ;)
Grady came out of the bathroom, slumped onto one of the bar stools, and scowled at the box of waffles.
Kit held the box up. “I was going to toast some of these. Want one?”
Grady met his gaze, his blue eyes accusatory and offended. He shoved up from the stool and came around into the kitchen. “Out. Go. I’m making crepes.”
Kit backed off, grinning.
Grady picked up the box of waffles and deposited it back into the freezer with a derogatory twist of his lips. When he glanced at Kit again, Kit gave him a big exaggerated double thumbs-up, just to make sure he could get him to smile.
It was a brief smile, accompanied by a soft snort, but there it was.
While Grady pulled out eggs, milk, flour, and mixing bowls, Kit perched on a stool and responded to Livy’s text: I got him to smile and he’s cooking crepes, so, score. But yeah I think you’re right. Those two have shit to sort out.
Sitting in bed with her multicolored comforter tucked around her, Skye finally dared to text Grady. Hey. The sun’s set and I have no wish to go into the woods. So, that’s good. How are you?
She chewed her lip and wiggled her toes for the interminable three minutes it took him to answer.