The next day, I dragged myself to work. I hadn’t slept at all. My hair was untenable, my eyes were puffy. But underneath my jacket, I had on that baseball tee. I changed my phone screen to that picture. Baby steps, I told myself. And baby steps felt okay.
I stopped at Cassie’s. Cassie herself wasn’t there, just Llana. She looked up as I came in. She raised an eyebrow in askance.
“Good morning,” I answered.
She smiled. “Good morning. The usual?”
“Yes please.”
That was all. And that felt okay too.
I walked to the flower shop, where Daphne had the heater on. I took off my jacket, and called to the back to let Daphne know I was there. I tucked my shirt into my jeans and reached for my apron. There was a small gasp from behind me.
Daphne stood in front of the office door, her eyes the size of dinner plates. She blinked a few times, and gave a shaky laugh. “My lord, girl, you look just like your mama.”
“I know,” I said, giving her an equally unsteady smile. I told her about going to the storage room as we started work. I told her how I’d gone home and the vampire roommate had helped me carry my boxes up the stairs, and offered to make me some coffee. I told her how I’d actually made myself a real drink and after politely thanking him but refusing, and looked through everything I’d brought home. I showed her the picture on my phone and told her I saved some cards. Daphne was smiling so big I was afraid she was stuck.
“This doesn’t mean I’m like, magically better, you know.” I warned her. “It’s a step, and there’s a whole mile of steps ahead of me.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, still grinning like a cat. “But you took a step, and that’s big, hon.”
I nodded, and we moved on.
The next week or so passed, and nothing changed. I didn’t go back to the storage room, but I made sure to bring out the things I’d already gotten. I put up the pictures on my wall, and the albums on my bookshelf. The shirts went in my dresser. I looked at one card every day; it was a Valentine’s Day one. Mama and I had our own tradition. We would get each other coffee and a bag of mystery chocolates, then come home and watch bad romcoms and eat it all. Mama had written in the card, “There is a lot to love in this beautiful world, but you are the most beautiful, and the most loved. I love you big, Mama.” Love you big was our thing. It was on every card, every night before bed, before every hangup. I looked at this card every day, and I started to get an idea.
In the meantime, I started talking to Llana more. She was from Spain, and she was, in fact, not human. She avoided the specifics, though, and I didn’t push it. She, in turn, asked more about me, always gauging a Morning from a Good Morning first. On the Mornings, I like to think my tea tasted just a little sweeter than normal. Not too much, but noticeable. But maybe it was psychosomatic. In any case, she always smiled at me through the window and I always nearly collided with something in front of me. I nearly dropped my cup when she laughed at a bad joke I made. Her hair clip, beautifully shining, bathed her face in a warm glow. I began to notice that even when the lights in the coffee shop were dim, and the sky was dark and cloudy, it still glowed and shimmered. It was too bright to be reflecting anything.
The next week, I went back to the storage room. I got some of Mama’s sweaters, and her old books. Curled up in an enormous sherpa jacket at home, I read through as many mythology books as I could. Nothing in any of them mentioned anything like Llana. I did steer clear of Greek though. I knew all about that anyway.
The weather, while in springtime, suddenly took a chill. I found myself wearing the sherpa to work one morning, over the lucky star shirt. I had been up most of the night, turning over the same idea from a week or two ago. I’d been putting the pieces together.
I got to Cassie’s as usual, and Llana smiled as I came in. “Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning! The usual?”
“Actually,” I said, “could I get an extra shot of courage in mine?”
“Courage?” She asked, measuring tea leaves. “Sure, what for?” She slapped a hand to her mouth. “Shit, sorry, that’s inappropriate to ask.”
“No, it’s okay,” I mumbled into my collar. “I’m taking a baby step today, but it’s actually maybe a big step? Like, it’s a good thing, but...but I gotta make sure I can get myself there, y’know?”
Llana gazed at me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, one Oolong with a shot of focus and a shot of courage, and one chai with a shot of calm.” She dropped in the strainers and turned back to me. She leaned on the counter, and her fingers kept touching her thumb in a pattern. Nervous habit. “So,” she said, “Cassie says you’re a nymph. So you have a specialty?”
“Yeah, I’m an anthousia. Specifically flowers. That’s why I work at Daphne’s.”
“I would love to do that.” She sighed.
I smiled at her, glancing around. “What’s your favorite flower? Magic or not?”
“Hmmm. What’s that golden one? It floats, kind of looks like a bell? It’s magical, obviously.”
I almost choked on my own spit. “Sun Lanterns?”
Her face lit up. “Yes!”
I shook my head a little at the odds, then held up my hand, palm up. A sun lantern seemed to grow from my skin, twisting into being from the light around me. Llana watched with huge eyes as the little flower rose up to her eye line. I smiled at her astounded expression. She looked like she might take a step back when I held it out to her.
“Really?” She asked quietly. I nodded. She tentatively reached out across the counter and the sun lantern floated into her hand. She held it close to her face, letting out a small laugh. She sounded thrilled.
“Here.” I reached out, and touched the bloom, closing my eyes. “There, now it’ll dooooo…..that.” The lantern had floated up to rest just behind her ear, as though it were pinned in her hair.
“No way!”She ran to the other side of the bar, the length of the room. The sun lantern whizzed along with her, keeping its place. She laughed again. God, I could listen to that sound till the end of days. She looked so happy, I could feel her enthusiasm reflected in me, , and I began to feel lighter, like I would really be fully-
What, had she said something?
“Ah, what?”
“I said, I think your teas are done,” she said, pointing to them on the bar.
“Oh, right.” I shook myself. Grabbing the cups, I went to leave, but suddenly, just at the door, I turned back. Llana was holding the sun lantern in her hands again, gazing at it with something like...well, a really good something.
“Hey Llana?” I asked before my brain engaged. She looked up, her face lit equally by the sun lantern and her clip. “Do you want to meet me for a drink tonight? Or a bite to eat?” I was grateful that I managed to ask with a surprising amount of composure, though admittedly at an octave higher than normal.
She didn’t move for a moment. I began to panic. But then, the most amazing thing happened.
She burst into a smile as though she was made of sunshine. She looked as though she’d been given a drink of water after a drought, finally free of uncertainty.
“Yes, oh my god I would love-” She stopped short and coughed. “I mean, yes, I’d like that. Does 6:00 work okay?”
“6 is just fine. Meet you here?” 6pm had never seemed like a better time of day.
“Okay.” She raised her hand in a wave. I gestured with a cup, backing into the door a bit too hard. Half winded, I made my way to Daphne’s in a daze.
Daphne told me the order for the day as I came in, which I barely retained. I concentrated on all the flowers (we had a wedding tomorrow, but we were dropping them off tonight, mercifully) a concoction of lilies, baby’s breath, and forget-me-nots. The bride had been very gracious and accommodating, but the mother was a nightmare. She was adamant that there be ABSOLUTELY NO MAGIC in her baby’s flowers. Some humans were wary of anything magical. A few thought magic was “dirty,” some just didn’t want to pay for the extra labor. The majority of the sticklers just wanted “normal” flowers because it was more....familiar, I guess? These humans were always very courteous and nice. This Mother of the Bride was not one of these humans. Luckily Daphne had a very thorough contract.
I took my time. All these flowers were very delicate, and took a lot of care to get just right. It was easy to overgrow them. You could shoot right past “tomorrow is peak bloom” and straight into “honey the flowers are made of fruit flies” if you weren’t very careful. Daphne made calls all day in the office. We were hitting peak wedding planning season for the end of summer through fall. She was constantly on the phone with brides, planners, and venues. I was set to deliver the flowers at four, and head home from there.
We took lunch at 11:00, and as we ate in silence I turned my question over in my mind. I could feel myself overthinking how to ask it, so when Daphne finished her salad and leaned back in her chair, I just blurted it out.
“I’m going to get a tattoo.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “A tattoo?”
I jerkily nodded.
“What happened to baby steps?”
“Honestly, this feels like a baby step. Well, maybe a little bigger than a baby step, but not a real big one. It feels...good. Natural.” I rubbed my palm with a thumb.
Daphne laced her fingers over her stomach and tilted her face to the ceiling. She was quiet. I picked at the last of my lunch. I told myself she would be the best judge of my actions, and tried to wait patiently.
After the longest 30 seconds of recent history, she finally looked back at me. “Well, it seems like a big step to me, but I’m not you. If you think it’s right, and you’re sure, then it’s right.”
I let out my breath. “Thanks, Daphne.”
“At least you’re sensible. Unlike this client! Lilies?! Half her daughter’s guests will be sneezing their eyes out! And no magic? The day before?!” She shook her head. “When you get married, girl, you better keep a sane head on your shoulders.”
“Alright, who’s taking big steps now?”
--
I stepped into the Cat’s Cradle, the nearest magical tattoo shop. The walls were covered in pictures of their art and clients. A cat trotted out from behind a desk, meowing assertively.
“Cleo!” A woman called, running out from a closet at the back. She was small, but her muscle tone when she picked up the cat indicated she was deceptively strong. She had a young, confident face framed by a beautifully simple hijab. “Sorry, she got out of the office.”
“It’s okay.” I held out a hand for Cleo to inspect. She gave me a sniff and a small lick
“My name is Soñia,” the woman said, depositing Cleo behind the front desk and firing up the computer. “Cleo’s a comfort cat, she helps calm our clients. Walk in or appointment?”
“Um, walk in.”
“Alright, we could fit you in in about half an hour, around 4:45. Do you need to look at a design binder?” Her tone was brisk, but not impolite.
“Actually do you guys do handwriting?”
She frowned a little. “We can do both magical and non-magical handwriting, but I have to warn you that we cannot guarantee that there will be a perfectly identical match-
“How close can you get?” I cut in.
Her frown disappeared. “Damn close.”
“Good enough for me.” I pulled out the Valentines card, pointing at the line. “How about this, magically?”
Soñia waved her hand and made a pfft noise. “Simple. The same size as the card?” I nodded. “It will take an hour, possibly an hour and fifteen for the magical freeze to set. We freeze the magic so that your skin can heal. It will activate in a day or two.”
I confirmed I’d be back in half an hour and went to get a snack. It was overcast out, but it wasn’t supposed to rain until tomorrow. I sat on a bench, eating my power bar, contemplating. What a day. I did not have these kinds of days. These kinds of days happened to other people.
“Stop it.” I said to myself. “It’s just a day. Let yourself have a day.”
I got back to Cat’s Cradle at 4:45 on the dot. Soñia was rolling up a prayer mat. “Perfect timing,” she said, leaning the mat against a corner and rubbing her hands together. She picked up a stencil that was somewhat glowing. “Shall we?”
I’ll spare the details, as I didn’t watch most of it. I’ve never been a huge fan of needles, so I focused on petting Cleo. An hour and nine minutes later, I was bandaged up, part of the inside of my forearm unsettlingly numb. We’d taken an old style Polaroid of it, and I paid Soñia (with a hefty tip, because her confidence had paid off).
“It’s beautiful handwriting,” she said, printing my receipt.
“Yes,” I said, half smiling, “It was my mother’s.”
Soñia nodded, handed me my receipt, and I left. My arm around the numb part ached, but the bandage was lighter than I had thought. I still had maybe 40 minutes to get home and ready. For my date. With Llana. I almost laughed. “Wow,” I said, as I broke into a jog, “Wow.”
Comments (0)
See all