Cornbread & Crossroads Read online

  My best friend had volunteered from the very beginning to take charge of finding places for every short, tall, thin, wide, winged, fanged, and everything-in-between being who’d shown up at our town’s proverbial doorstep over the last few months. She continued working at Mrs. Wilkes’s house to help in the transition from the home being a bed-and-breakfast to a temporary boarding house, but any free time she possessed, Blythe threw all her energy into making sure nobody was unwelcome or homeless.

  Juniper raised her hand and waited to be called on. When Clementine recognized her, the fairy’s wings flapped to life, and she hovered just above her chair so that all of us could see her diminutive body while she spoke. “I’ve been discussing the situation with David and Gossamer, and we agreed that we should share with you. Since the majority of the new arrivals are fae, it might be possible to call forth a sithen, which could house a fair number of folks.”

  “What’s a sithen?” Clementine asked, leaning forward with interest.

  Juniper’s wings quivered with nerves, sending a light cascade of blue-green dust underneath her. “The term is based on the original word sìthein,” she said with a sharper pronunciation. “It’s a fairy dwelling from the old world, although they’re usually incorporated into a hill. If properly created, one sithen could house all of those who are staying with current residents as well as many more.”

  Ms. Patty fidgeted with enthusiasm in her seat to my left. “That sounds like a perfect solution. I’m surprised this wasn’t brought up earlier. We should start constructing one right away.”

  The fairy nodded once at the witch but held up a finger. “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “It never is,” I muttered under my breath, earning a slight smile from Juniper.

  “Creating a sithen requires a considerable amount of wild magic,” she explained.

  Blythe looked around at all of us seated at the table. “You’re in a town full of those who can wield magic.”

  “Tucker’s already using a good host of volunteers to push construction of some new apartments, which is taking a lot of power and energy already. We can’t deplete our entire citizenship,” Clementine responded with a frown.

  More dust fell from Juniper’s agitated wings. “We wouldn’t be able to use just any magic. It would have to be fae magic, and pretty powerful at that, too. Goss and I aren’t even sure that if we gathered all the fae here it would be enough.”

  In an instant, I thought of one member of the fae in town who might hold a lot more magic than it seemed. Not that long ago, I’d found out the truth of Lucky’s origins. Perhaps a leprechaun king could tap into some pretty hefty powers. However, he wanted to keep his true identity a secret for reasons of his own. It wasn’t my place to out him.

  David added, “And even if we could create a sithen with our magic, there are other issues that arise. In the traditional mounds, rooms were given out according to a very ancient and very hypocritical sense of hierarchy.”

  Juniper’s upper lip lifted in a slight sneer. “A sithen needs a sense of hierarchy to exist. It’s something about its very nature that requires there to be a top and a bottom. Those who were deemed more worthy had better dwellings. And it behooved the residents to garner favor with the one in control in order to gain favor and move up in ranks. The competition could be fierce. And deadly.”

  Her last word echoed in our ears, and a tense silence followed. Beyond Lucky’s tale, I realized there was much I didn’t know about the background of the fae. Something about Juniper’s tone gave me enough to pause to wonder what existed in her history to cause her to be so cautious in her suggestion to the committee.

  “If this fairy mound, or whatever you call it, is so dangerous, then why bring it up as a possible solution in the first place?” Aunt Nora interjected from the doorway. Her face was contorted in her normal sour expression.

  Clementine shifted with discomfort in her seat. “Mother, why are you here?”

  My aunt lifted her eyebrows in incredulity. “It sounds like I came in time to keep this committee organized and on task instead of discussing whimsical ideas that sound like they shouldn’t even be considered.”

  “This committee is about sharing ideas to help find the best solution to our current issues,” my cousin explained, standing up to face her mother.

  It had only been about a month since her father, my Uncle Philip, had suffered a pretty nasty heart attack. For a while, we had been worried that he wouldn’t make it. Although he’d recovered, his brush with mortality had whipped up my aunt’s tendencies and peculiarities into a realm of obsession I could never understand. Poor Clem stood as the wall between her mother and the rest of the world more times than I could count.

  “And as a town council member, I have every right to be here,” Aunt Nora stated with added authority.

  My chair scraped the floor as I stood in solidarity with my cousin. “Actually, the committee is supposed to act on its own and then bring the council the information it gathers for approval. That way, the council members can help out without their preferences being involved.”

  “And what about his presence on the committee?” My aunt jutted her thumb in Flint’s direction. “Mr. Hollyspring is a town council member as well. Is it because he and his wife are related to those causing all the chaos? Does he not bring in his own biases?”

  My aunt’s hypocrisy ground my gears. Her own prejudices were front and center in her words and actions. In one vile moment, she showed exactly why town council members should not be on the committee.

  “I don’t know what you mean by related,” I challenged, glaring at my aunt. “But he was invited by the committee to provide facts that only he can as head of security for Honeysuckle. He didn’t crash the meeting.”

  Clementine flinched a little after my statement, and I regretted my words in an instant. I should be more sympathetic to my aunt’s emotional state after what she’d been through with her husband. And I always tried to remember that she was my mom’s sister after all, although I’d never understand how biology connected someone as warm and sweet as my mother with someone as quick to be cold as my aunt.

  Flint gathered up his papers. “It’s high time I should be getting back to my post anyway. I can leave this portion of the report here to see my assessment of overall security. While everything is currently working, I have notated where I foresee having trouble with an increased rate of growth. I will leave it here for you, Ms. Hawthorne.”

  Without another word, the gnome hopped down from his chair at the table and made his way to the door. When he reached the threshold, he addressed my aunt. “I’ll be happy to walk out with you, Nora.”

  My aunt sniffed in contempt while gazing down her nose at the smaller individual. The corners of her pursed lips turned downward, and she opened her mouth to spew something no doubt insulting.

  “Thank you both for checking in with our committee,” Clementine interrupted. “I will make sure that you and the rest of the town council get a full report of our findings and any proposals.”

  She grasped the door and began closing it, giving her mother no room to continue standing in the way. Flint nodded his head once at Clementine and departed. Aunt Nora sputtered incoherently, unable to process or fight against her daughter’s bold move.

  “Thanks again, Mother,” Clementine said as she pushed the door closed and shut out my aunt for good. Her hand remained on the wood of the door as she bent her head and took a couple of deep breaths.

  After she’d steadied herself, she readdressed the group with a forced smile. “I’m sorry for the interruption and the derailment of the meeting.”

  I wanted to jump out of my seat with a squeal of delight and high-five my cousin, but that would further undermine her well-earned authority. Instead, I squirmed in my chair with gratified glee, until she glanced at me. Taking the brief opportunity, I winked and grinned at her, watching her shoulders relax a little more.

  “To get back to the point you were
making, Juniper, if I’m understanding things right, there might be ways to create a type of fae dwelling. However, there might also be consequences to constructing and running it?” Clementine clarified.

  The fairy, whose wings flapped so hard they were a blur, struggled with her nerves. “Y-y-yes, that’s correct. Not only could it breed unrest amongst those who lived there but also without a strong enough fae to maintain control…”

  “Things could get even more out of hand than the pockets of chaos we’ve already been experiencing?” I finished for her.

  “Exactly,” she sighed in agreement. She wrung her hands in front of her. “Most of the fae kind that have come to live here have done so because it was a safe haven, much like the new residents. However, many of us enjoyed the protection of secrecy being here provided.”

  David spoke up again. “The more of us that arrive, the harder it will be to remain unnoticed amongst our kind. And an actual sithen might bring the town very unwanted attention from fae the likes of whom you would never want to deal with.”

  Finished giving the volatile information, Juniper floated down. She slumped onto her chair as if she didn’t want any more attention, but she tipped her head up to give David a glance of gratitude.

  Mimsy Blackwood, grandmother to my friends Lily and Lavender, spoke in a soft, kind voice. “Forgive me for saying so, dear, but why propose something that could bring more trouble than help to Honeysuckle?”

  Juniper’s lips quivered for a second, but she sniffed twice and sat up straight to answer. “This committee’s purpose is for all options to be presented. Even the hard ones.” She pointed between herself and David. “We want to help no matter what.”

  Clementine wrote a few things down before saying anything. “I will add this to the notes to present to the council. I believe I speak for all of us here that we appreciate the information, but at this time we need to find alternative housing without creating a bigger problem. Thanks for everything and especially for your time. See y’all tonight at the park.”

  With a bright smile, my cousin adjourned the meeting. Blythe stayed behind to clarify a few things with Clementine before she waved a quick goodbye to me and rushed off to continue helping with our housing situation. I hugged David around the shoulders, knowing how much he craved a touch of friendship and approval. After receiving assurances that what he said wasn’t bad, he left the room with less weight on his shoulders. I waited for everyone else to leave so I could finally congratulate my cousin.

  “You did great,” I gushed, releasing her from a long hug. “Especially with your mom. I gotta admit, I almost whooped and hollered when you stood up to her, Clem. Not in a million trillion bazillion years did I think I’d ever witness such courage.”

  My cousin chuckled and fussed with her stack of papers to cover up her embarrassed joy. “Believe me, there was a time where I thought I’d never find my own voice. But living my life with Tucker has allowed me to…I don’t know. But things feel different.”

  “It’s allowed you to grow. To blossom into the person you were always meant to be,” I finished for her, squeezing my arm around her shoulders. “I’d offer to buy you some coffee and something deliciously sinful to celebrate at Sweet Tooths, but I actually forgot to prepare something for the potluck. I need to hustle home and whip up some cornbread for tonight.”

  “Well, if you can also whip up a glass of sweet tea for me, then I’d be happy to accompany you to your place,” she offered. “I don’t want to miss out on our gabfest, especially after what happened today.”

  In less than fifteen minutes, Clementine sat at the small table in my kitchen while I warmed up my two cast-iron skillets in the oven so the crust of my cornbread would be nice and crispy. While they heated, I mixed together the rest of the ingredients to pour in once the iron was good and hot.

  “You don’t add sugar to your mix?” she asked, interrupting our lively discussion about the possibility of a fairy mound.

  I whistled long and low. “Ooh, no. Nana would threaten me with one of these here heavy skillets if I did. She taught me to use a stone-milled cornmeal rather than a heavily manufactured one that’s ground too fine and loses its flavor. Trust me, my cornbread won’t need the sugar.” I handed her the bag of cornmeal so she could smell it.

  “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Always,” I assured her, stopping my mixing and giving her my full attention.

  Clementine leaned forward and spoke in a loud whisper, “Mom uses a store-bought mix most of the time.”

  I widened my eyes in mock horror. “No!”

  My cousin giggled. “And she never uses a cast-iron skillet. Just a regular baking tin. Which is probably why hers never tastes that good.” She covered her mouth with both hands as if knowing she’d let out a huge family secret.

  It warmed every inch of my heart to know that my mama and grandmother taught me right. A tiny, petty part of me took pleasure in being able to create something that my aunt couldn’t.

  I crossed my heart with my fingers. “I’ll never tell her what you told me. You’re already out of her good graces for kicking her out of the meeting. And she probably hates that you’re here, slumming it with me.”

  Clementine’s smile dropped a little. “I don’t know what it takes to be in her good graces. Or if she has any at all to begin with.” She let out a long sigh. “But spending time with you is non-negotiable. It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

  Not that long ago, my cousin had been a stranger to me. An instrument of frigid standoffishness wielded by my aunt to wound me. I never expected for Clementine’s marriage to my former fiancé to be the catalyst of healing between us.

  “It’s one of my favorite things, too, Clem,” I added with warmth. “But I wish your mother wouldn’t bother you so much.”

  My cousin drained her tea, the cubes of ice clinking against the glass. “If you think she’s gonna be upset by me keeping her out of today’s meeting, what do you think’ll happen when she finds out that Tucker and I are going to move back into his old place and give up the Hawthorne’s family homestead to house more newcomers?”

  Her admission almost made me drop my mixing bowl. She rescued it from a fall, her eyes sparkling at my reaction. With her hand, she closed my gaping mouth, took the wooden spoon from me, and finished blending the ingredients.

  “Now, let’s add one more thing to bother Mother,” Clementine said with a little glee fueling her. “Teach me how to make the perfect Southern cornbread.”

  Chapter Three

  Music floated down the street from the park while I walked with Beatrice. Beau hovered nearby in his bat form, flying with the three pixies who were staying with me. Nug, Mug, and Bug would zip ahead a little and zoom back to us, fussing in high-pitched tones. Best I could tell from their body movements, they scolded Bea and me for taking too long.

  With a little poof, Beau transformed and shook his head a little, the wisps of hair on his scalp waving in the breeze. “I like them, but they’re a little too energized for me. I might be a wee bit too old to keep up with the young ones.”

  “Oh, they’re not that young by your standards,” commented Bea.

  I quirked my eyebrow. “How old are they?”

  The brownie thought a moment. “I think they’re in their four hundreds. Which, for their kind, is on the youthful side.”

  “Those three are older than me,” Beau mused. “I wish I possessed some of their pep. If you could bottle that kind of energy, I’d pay a mint for it. Then the ladies of Honeysuckle really wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

  I patted my vampire roommate on the back. “They already don’t. You’re doing just fine in the lothario department. No need to make it worse.”

  The twinkling fairy lights in floating mason jars lit the dusky sky and our way to the park. Jordy and the Jack-O’-Lanterns were jamming on the stage, and everyone milled around with drinks and small snacks from the appetizer table. Bea and I took my plates of skillet
cornbread and set them with the other breads, making sure to set the dish of whipped maple butter near them. With an easy warming charm spellcast over my contribution, the cornbread would stay perfect until it was all gone.

  The three pixies took off to join others flitting over the heads of the other residents, and I brought Bea over to the drinks area. After pouring some sweet lemonade into a cup, I handed it to her, and she accepted the drink with both hands. Some of the sticky liquid sloshed out because of her trembling.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, handing her a napkin.

  She shook off her reaction with a smile. “It’s going to take me some time to get used to someone else serving me instead of the other way around. Thank you for the drink.”

  “Hey, Birdy,” Matt called out, holding on to my very squirmy niece.

  TJ accompanied them, shaking a set of plastic keys at her daughter to get her to stop fussing. By the time they closed the distance between us, Rayline’s noises of discontent threatened to turn into shrieks.

  “What did you do to Junior?” I accused, rubbing my niece’s back to try and help.

  My brother sighed. “Nothing. She’s just going through a phase.”

  “A very loud one,” TJ added. “My guess is she’s teething again. Your grandmother seems to be the only one with the magic touch to keep her calm.”

  Bea’s hand reached up to touch my niece on the back of her chubby little leg. “Shh, there now, you sweet bairn,” she cooed. “The sun is shining, and you’re surrounded by love. What’s there to be upset about?”