Nixie bent to inhale from the stunning rose-red bloom growing throughout her home in a network of vines she’d trained to grow upward.
Cracking open a window, she gazed into the thick fold of the starry, slightly smoggy night sky of the home she loved. The cacophonous banter of people and honking cabs sounded like an echoing boom through her garden home. Slipping off her sandals, she padded barefoot to the outdoor balcony and then took a seat on the white wicker bench, closing her eyes as the balmy Chicago breeze kissed her temples.
The people, the smells of hotdog vendors and tomato pies, the sounds of cabs and women laughing, none of it was real. All that surrounded her was drawn up from memories imprinted in her mind. These were the images of Chicago she’d loved most.
When Nixie had designed her home, she’d very nearly created doppelganger versions of her family to inhabit it with her, but then the reality that they would be nothing other than a mirage that could not love her back had intruded and she’d not done it.
So here she sat, alone on a balcony, staring out a city she missed desperately that wasn’t real and never would be for her again.
“And tomorrow you rest,” the sweet, melodic voice of her mother’s fairy godmother interrupted Nixie’s contemplations.
She glanced up in time to see Danika grow to mortal size before taking a seat opposite her. With a flick of her wrist a steaming pot of tea and two delicate china cups materialized before them.
Smiling gratefully, Nixie poured for them. The lemony Earl Gray had her stomach growling fiercely.
“Sounds like you might need a touch more than tea, dear,” Danika chirped and then a plate of still-warm scones and lemon curd popped into existence.
“You know I could have made my own dinner,” Nixie said with a tiny grin to soften the sting.
“Aye, you don’t need a mother, that’s true enough. But you do need a friend, Nix. This life is horrifically lonely, and I am sorry for it.”
Danika’s cornflower-blue eyes had Nixie’s heart clenching in her chest. Dropping a sugar cube into her tea, she took a sip and pretended like the fairy’s kindness didn’t make her suddenly want to cry.
She cleared her throat. “How is my family?”
Shrugging, Danika took a bite out of her scone. “Well enough, I suppose.”
Nix chewed on her bottom lip. When Danika omitted information was when she knew there were things being pointedly ignored.
“And my uncles?”
“Aged, but still as devilish as ever they were.” She grinned, but this time when she said it the fairy turned her eyes to the side and pretended to be deeply engrossed by a wispy bit of her baby’s-breath gown, fiddling around with a broken section of leaf.
The moon was full and ripe tonight. Nixie had decided to let the world within her lamp move as the one on Earth did. The moon had a regular rotation and tonight it was lush and pregnant with light, highlighting Danika’s chestnut curls and making her look far younger than the elder fae she actually was.
“Danika?”
“Hmm?” The fairy glanced up with a very put-upon smile.
The tightness around her eyes and the way her lips pursed, Nixie was sure she could guess the reason for Dani’s suddenly shifty attitude.
“It’s Eric, isn’t it? He’s got a girlfriend, or—”
Danika grimaced. “Oh, lass, I dinna want to tell you…”
Her heart sank. “Just tell me. Not, like I haven’t expected it to happen anyway.”
“You have to understand that for him it’s been more like ten years since he’s seen you.”
“Danika, please.” She pinched her nose. “Stop trying to make it better, nothing is going to make any of this better, just…tell me.”
“He’s married, girl, with two beautiful daughters of his own.”
Nixie shoved the rest of the scone in her mouth, not because she was hungry, but to stop the scream from tearing out of her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she kept chanting to herself, trying to remind herself that she’d known this would happen. She’d known life would move on back home. To them she was dead. Never to return, a faint memory of a person who’d once skipped through their lives, but no longer a vital part of it.
Of course he’d moved on. Of course he’d gotten married. Of course he had.
The china cup in her hand suddenly cracked, spilling hot tea and sending a shard of the cup through her palm. With a cry, she spat out the scone and hugged her hand to her breast.
Danika was by her side in an instant, hugging Nixie’s head to her chest, much like her mother would have and murmuring, “Sweet girl, ye did not deserve this.”