Looking for a Story

Eve tries not to cringe as her grandma hands her a box of random Christmas decor, "You have your own place now deary, so here take this. It's all the decor I don't have space for in my new place." Great, Grandma’s left overs, "Thanks, Granny. I'm sure they'll come in handy. Do you want them back in January?" Eve shifts the box, getting ready to walk out the door. “Oh no, I've loved them for years, you take them and make your own traditions." Her Granny waves her off, and the feeling that these are leftovers grows. Eve thanks her Granny and slips out the door, trying not to be frustrated with her Granny insisting on her creating traditions, especially with the unsettling feeling that her granny had handed her a box a junk she didn't want. She tosses the box in her trunk, and for a moment, she debates simply taking it to the thrift store without ever opening the box. As she slams her car door shut, she thinks better of it. What if there’s something in that box that mom would miss or want? No, it needed to go to her apartment. She drives through her little town, Christmas sights all around; holiday music on the radio, coloured lights flickering across her dashboard. She should be getting in the spirit of the season, but her Granny’s words replay in her mind, “make your own traditions.” Eve hit her fist on the steering wheel. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the LAST FIVE YEARS? Creating traditions, ON MY OWN? When do I get to have someone join me? When do I get to spend time gushing over cute traditions I’ve started with someone like Carol does with mom every year?” Tears of frustration prick at her eyes. Before visiting her Granny, she’d stopped by her mom's to pick up something for Gran. Carol had been over with the boys, telling Mom all about how she and Will were once again going to put the tree up, while the boys slept, so they would wake up to some Christmas magic. Eve slams the car into park with more force than is needed. The icy walkway and stairs force her to quiet her thoughts and focus on not slipping. Taking in a breath, she opens the door to her cozy apartment, hints of Christmas starting to show. She carefully drops the dumb on the living room floor. "Might as well deal with this now. See if any of it is worth saving." She makes herself a cup of hot cocoa and grabs a few cookies; her mom is testing new cookie recipes for Christmas, so far, the toffee chocolate chip is Eve's new favourite. She opens the box and is hit with a wave of Christmas, only it’s not the cozy smell of peppermint and cocoa that is nostalgic for her, but a stale, old Christmas smell, like something that sat in the back of the garage, forgotten about until you had to move. "Oh my gosh, Granny! How old is the box?" Eve backs away and lets the box air out for a bit before digging in. She snaps a photo of the box and texts Carol, “You are so lucky Granny doesn’t unload her junk on you and your family. This box is STALE.” Her sister sends her back a photo of the boys and the kitchen covered in chocolate syrup. Eve glances at her perfectly clean kitchen; there were perks to living alone. After an hour, she tries again, and it's still bad, but not as bad. The first layer is old table runners and tablecloths that Eve couldn't remember ever seeing on a table. She unfolds them and finds them full of stains and holes, "What a shame, some of these are quite pretty." She goes to start a trash pile, but stops herself; her sewing machine catches her eye. She sets them aside for now. Next, she finds some old plates that, if Eve remembers right, are from Mom's childhood. Sadly, they're in pieces, she carefully pulls out the broken parts, and sets them in the trash bin. Only one plate remains intact, a simple cream coloured plate with a red border, curved slightly. Eve isn't sure if it had warped or if it always looked like this, but something about it made her want to keep it. She pulls out old pillow covers to make throw pillows festive; she didn't have throw pillows, so to the donate pile they go. At the bottom of the box is a collection of tissue paper-wrapped items, "Oh boy, here we go." Her Granny, a notorious buyer of useless knick-knacks. Eve shakes her head and slowly unwraps each one. She uncovers little Christmas statues; parts to a ceramic toy train set. A set Granny definitely didn't have; in fact, Eve was positive Granny never used them in her house. It’s a cute set, and Eve is sure she’s seen it before. She closes her eyes and runs through Christmas memories, who in her life had this train set on their mantel. Suddenly, it clicks, and she knows exactly which of her friends will appreciate it most. She finds a small box and wraps it in simple brown paper, and sets it by the door to be delivered. Tucked under extra paper in the box, she finds a tall white pillar candle that has never been lit. "Well, I needed a new Christ candle anyway." She tidies up her living room and looks at the stained and worn fabric, "It seems wasteful to throw it all away." She lays out each one, tracing around the holes, and squares them off. She walks those parts to the sink. Eve uses hot water and her peppermint soap to wash out both the stains at the smell. She sees some stains come out, but most don’t; they have been baked into the fabric. In rinsing out the soap, the stale Christmas smell fades, and the familiar Christmas smell returns. She uses her iron to speed up the drying process and to smooth out wrinkles. She makes smaller squares around the leftover stains. It didn't leave her with a lot of fabric, but with the right layout, it made a lovely single placemat of vintage Christmas fabrics. The project becomes all-consuming as she lays out the small squares; her mind wanders back to her meltdown in the car. She thinks over the different traditions she's started. She has a lovely themed tree, a garland that hangs atop her bookshelf, and a wreath she decorates every year. She’d even adopted her family's tradition of having her own little Advent wreath. She pauses to glance at the wreath sitting in front of the window. As she places pieces together, she feels the familiar sting of loneliness; she'd decorated alone again, she'd go to events alone again, and she'd go elsewhere to celebrate Christmas despite decorating her own home. Is it so wrong to want someone to celebrate with, to do those things with? She looks at the square she's pieced together. She runs her hand over the squares. Would her life come together like this? Will she someday have a Christmas full of traditions she and someone else had made? Or could she continue build a Christmas all her own? She finds a piece of dark green felt in her own collection and prepares to hand-sew them together. She lets a Christmas movie play in the background and gives her brain a break. Her little design takes no time at all. She binds it together. Looking at it, she finds the answer to her question: Christmas traditions are all about finding little pieces to bring together, so she will keep creating her own Christmas; she can always add someone else's in if she had the chance. She moves to the table where her Advent wreath sits, and she carefully sets all the pieces aside. Letting her new placemat fill the table, she picks up the plate and pillar candle from Granny's and centers them on the table. She rearranges her other four smaller candles for the Sundays of Advent, making a photo-worthy display. Despite it not being Christmas Eve or a Sunday, she lights the Christ candle in the centre of her wreath. She watches the light dance on her wall. She lets herself feel the excitement for what is to come this Christmas season and the next ones after.

Abigail the Squirrel blushed as she rushed into the room, all eyes turned to her, “Sorry, I’m late. Thea and Kade had dance practice tonight, and Braiden was late getting home from work.” “Oh, no worries, Abby. We never mind  waiting for you.” Nora the owl smiled as she grabbed Abby’s coat to hang up, “Jenna made jam cake for today, help yourself.” Abby smiled and hurried for her coffee and jam cake. “Can we get started soon? I think I loved “Love Lost in Time” more than the first two romance stories!” Violet the Skunk smiled eagerly as she scooted her chair over so there was room for Abby. “Of course. Now that we’re all here. Violet, I assume you want to kick this discussion off?” Violet blushed, but nodded  “I really enjoyed the premise of this story. The way both characters evolved, how they each found closure and a happy ending. I just loved it!” “Care to dig in a bit more? Why did you love it? It wasn’t my favourite, if I’m being honest.” Tracey the Rabbit asked, sipping her coffee. “I found the idea of the timers to be really interesting. I wish I had a timer telling me when Mr. Right will show up. I felt it was really well written and laid out quite nicely.  I really like the slight plot twist that the soulmates were from a different point in time. How come you didn’t like it, Tracey?” I didn’t love the premise. The idea that you know when you’ll meet your soulmate just seemed kinda boring to me. Maybe it’s just me, but it felt a little predictable. With the title and then the negative number, what other way could it go? ” “Interesting. I was surprised by the twist. I wasn’t sure where the author was going with the story.” Abby added. “I thought it was an interesting take on the idea. And I really loved the letter at the end, that there was closure for both Joey and Alice.” “It was nonsense if you ask me.” Bernard the Raccoon cut in with a grunt. “That’s the problem with young folks today. You always want the answers handed to you.  But what would you learn?” “Not everything needs a lesson,” Violet rolled her eyes. “You are quite right, Violet, there doesn’t always need a lesson.” Nora gently cut in. “However, I do love the unknown more than a planned-out road map. Which is what I enjoyed about this story. The author has two characters who had major unknowns in a world where your fate is laid out for you in terms of a countdown to your soulmate.” “That’s a well put way to say that, Nora!” Abby clapped her hands. “And I did like that this story would have lent itself well to an enemies-to-lovers idea, as Joey and Alice had two different takes on what to do if your soulmate dies before you ever meet them, but she chose for them to be neutral first. When they first met, they didn’t hate each other but were actually interested in the other's theory, which I felt was more relatable.”  “I still felt this story was too easy.” Bernard said, sipping his coffee. “Well, if it was too easy, let me ask you all this,” Nora smiled, “what camp would you be in? Find the soulmate or not? The timer ran out on your wrist, and you never met them. What would you do?” “Oh, I’d have to find them to get closure! There is no way I could live with the what-ifs.” Violet quickly jumped in, “It would just be awful to not know.” “I think I’d agreed with Violet,” Abby said, “I’d like the closing that came with knowing.” “I’d be more like Alice. Just live my life my way, and if I meet someone, then that’s that!” Jenna added and looked at Bernard, “I’ll stick with Jenna. No sense grieving and watching for what you don't have. What about you, Nora?” “Oh my, I’ll have to be the tie breaker.” Nora stopped and pondered for a moment, “But I do think I’m with Jenna and Bernard.” Violet and Abby sighed and shrugged their shoulders, while Jenna tried to high-five Bernard, who just stared at her. “Any more thoughts? Shall we move on?” Nora waited before smiling, “Alright, onto Fictional Love.” “I really enjoyed this one, even though it was on the shorter side.” Jenna started, “I could put myself right into it, I’ve done this so many times, one minute I’m reading and the next I’m off in some different world. I will say, I was taken by surprise that the reader at the end of the book was from the modern world. I had assumed it would be a princess daydreaming about her knight.” “I assumed that too!” Violet jumped in, “I thought for sure it would be about a princess who read too many books and had dreams of running away with her forbidden lover. But I did like how we found out it was from our time. It really made me think about the last time I allowed my imagination the freedom to go exploring.” “I have to admit, this story caught me completely off guard. And it made me a little sad.” “How come, Abby?” Nora asked, “Well, I,  like the author, used to imagine myself in my books as I read them, but as I got older, it felt too childish to do that. But after reading this story,  it got me thinking. Why does it have to be childish? Why can’t I lose myself in books in my 30s?” “A good question indeed. I’ve never experienced losing myself in a book like this story, but after reading it, I’d like to try and just shut my brain off the next time I read to try and discover this feeling. “I wasn’t allowed to do such things,” Bernard added quietly. “My teacher was never pleased when I let my imagination run wild or when I’d get lost in a book. Have to say, it’s been a while since I’ve tried to lose myself in a book. But I almost did while reading this one.” The girls all smiled brightly at Bernard, who glared, “But I didn’t cause it was a romance story.” The room burst out laughing, “Oh, Bernard. I do hope you never change,” Nora smiled with a laugh. “Now, do we have any other thoughts?” The discussion lasted another couple of minutes before it wrapped up. “Wonderful, for next week, we’ll be into part two of the book, the friendship stories. Have The Same Spot and Keeper of Dreams read for next week.” “Goodbye, Nora!” Abby smiled and waved as she and the others left. Nora waved goodbye and continued to pack up.

Mindy has been waiting for this for weeks. She has a brand new puzzle that she has been desperate to do. This weekend's forecast is perfect weather for it. Rain, all weekend, and she has no plans; it’s going to be perfect. After work on Friday, she made a point of getting the house clean. So on Saturday, as the rain falls outside her window and the grey sky rolls on by, Mindy dumps the puzzle out on her kitchen table. She loves the sound it makes and that cardboard smell. She quickly starts sorting the pieces, and she feels a wave of peace wash over her. "This is exactly what I needed," she sighs contentedly. She starts to put the edge pieces together, and she stares at the picture. It's a woman standing on the shore in a white dress, holding a violin. The shore isn't sand, it's a piano fading into sand.  When Mindy first bought the puzzle, she thought the boat was leaving, but looking at it now, the boat was definitely returning. The photo had tugged at Mindy's imagination at the store. Was the woman waiting for a lover? Or preparing for battle? So many options.  As she places pieces together, her mind unwillingly wanders to the fight between her and her boyfriend, Eddie, had before he left for his short-term research project. She’d been so mad he’d agreed to go without talking to her first, she’d said things she hadn’t meant, but neither of them had picked up the phone to call. What if neither of them picked up the phone again? Would those be the last words she spoke to him?  Tears prick at her eyes, and the lines of the puzzle start to blur. Mindy shuts her eyes hard, forcing the tears away. She draws her eyes away from the puzzle and back to the photo on the box. She’d seen so much whimsy in the photo at the store, a woman watching her lover go, sending him off with the violin farewell. Now that she sees the ship is returning, it makes her heart ache.  Is the water moving in the picture? She leans in closer; her table feels rougher, more like stone than her woodgrain table. She has to have been sitting here longer than she thought she had; she should take her break. The rain must be falling harder than before; it sounds like waves crashing against the shore. Her kitchen chair feels stiff and uncomfortable.  Is there a window open somewhere? She could feel rain on her skin. Wait - When did she take off her cozy sweater? She rubs her eyes, her kitchen table is gone, her house has vanished, and she is in the picture from her puzzle! "I have to be dreaming. right?" she pinches her arm and feels the pain, and groans, "I just wanted a simple afternoon! Not some fantasy world experience." She beats her fists against the rock she realises she's sitting on. As she does, she realizes she's gripping a paper, and she slowly unfolds it, My Dearest, Melinda,  My heart aches to leave you, but the king needs me and my men, and I must protect our hidden magical island. I swear on my love for you that this is the last war I will help this foolish king fight. When I return, together we will play music and hide the island and its people forever. Watch the shoreline, my love, when you see the mast of my ship, play your violin, and I’ll know that I am home. Don't give up on me, my muse. I will return. Ever yours. Edward "Well, he has a flair for the dramatics, doesn't he?" she chuckles, but the sound is hollow; She had a drawer full of Eddie's silly love notes in her vanity, he used to tape them to her mirror so she’d find them when she got ready for her day, hours after his started. The note rushes her pushed away feelings to the surface.  This man truly loved his muse. It felt wrong to take this girl's place. She leans back, and her hand hits a case. It must be this girl's violin. She pulls it onto her lap. "But, what if I didn't get his Melinda skill set?"  She pulls out the violin, her hands tracing over the instrument, trying to unlock the knowledge Melinda has, and to her surprise, her body seems to know how to hold it and how to prepare the bow. “Whoa," her voice soft as she feels the power flow through her. She leaves the rock and walks towards the shore. She sees sails in the distance. "Edward!" Her heart leaps in her chest, and she runs to the shore. She feels the sand cool beneath her and to cold water lap at her feet. "Okay, I can do this for Melinda and Edward, so they can have the next chapters in the love story."  She brings the violin up to her chin and closes her eyes, “Trust yourself," she whispers and starts to play a song. She feels a longing come from her soul. Melinda's longing for Edward mixes with her longing for Eddie; her heart feels as if it has cracked, and emotions pour out into the song. She briefly opens her eyes to find the ship heading towards her. As the ship gets closer, the sand seems to be pulled into the water, and piano keys appear beneath her feet; she feels compelled to dance across them. As she plays the violin, she dances across the keys, surprised at how powerfully her body moves; her dress flows, adding to the magic. The music seems to pull the ship to safety. More instruments join in, and she opens her eyes and sees who must be the people of the island join in.  She's also sure the crew members are playing too. The music swells, and she feels her heart swell with joy and love. The ship runs ashore. People stop playing and race to their loved ones. The beach becomes a crowded, cacophony of music, tears and cheers. She continues to dance through the crowd while playing her violin. Then she hears it, "Melinda! Melinda!" She turns, "Edward!" She lowers her instrument and races to him. She wants to let the instrument fall, but she has a feeling the real Melinda would not approve of such an action. As she gets closer to Edward, he pulls her into a hug, then lifts her off the ground, "My Muse, we won! Our island is safe. We'll have the peace we used to dream of!"  "You won?" She beams at him, "That's amazing!" He sets her down, and someone hands him a flute.  "Are you ready to make our island disappear one more time?" She nods, and together they play a beautiful but haunting song, and slowly the music fades, and the sound of rain builds.  She feels the warmth of her sweater return, slowly the party fades, and her quiet kitchen table welcomes her home. She clicks the last piece of the puzzle into place. “I hope you and Edward find the happiness you deserve, Melinda.” She traces her hand over the woman in the puzzle. She glances over at the photo of her and Eddie she hadn’t taken down, maybe she and Eddie could still find their own happy ending too. She slips her hand into the pockets of her sweater and finds a note,  Mindy, my Axiom, I hate the way we left things, but I can’t delay my leaving. I will await your call. I think we both owe each other an apology. I love you, Mindy. Once I return home, we will fix this, I promise. Call me when you're ready, and I will answer. Don't give up on me, my axiom, I will return to you. Your Constant, Eddie Mindy blinks back tears and reaches for the phone.

“Nora! I have so many notes on this week's reading, may I start?” Violet the Skunk all but yelled as soon as Nora the Owl called the book club to order.  “How can I deny such enthusiasm? Take it away, Violet.”  Violet smiled widely as she opened her notebook. “He Swore He Wouldn't" was such a wonderful story. Watching this man continually give in to love. Oh, I just loved it. And I loved how the author didn’t use names. She let us place ourselves in the story! It was such a unique idea.” “I have to say. It did remind me a little of Braiden and I’s story,” Abigail the Squirrel blushed as she joined the conversation, “He was too shy to ask me out until his friends dared him to. And now look at us, married with 4 littles. It was a little walk down memory lane.” “I personally liked how the author broke it up into three different sections, like little chapters. And how each chapter had some repetition, besides the main idea of him doing something he said he wouldn't, the same flowers from the same shop, the phrase only the best for my girl. I really enjoyed the writing technique in this story,” Jenna the Rabbit added. “Yes, those little callbacks were used very well. I found The Author’s Thoughts at the end of the story were so helpful! Telling you where each story comes from.” Nora flipped to the end of the story quickly, reading the line. “It’s quite fascinating how quickly the line he swore he wouldn’t lead her to think of a romance story.” Abigail said, “I would have thought a villain’s pov with that line.”  “As soon as I read the title, I knew it would be a great love story!” Violet beamed, pressing a hand over her heart. “Of course you did. You think every story is a love story, or should be a love story,” Jenna teased. “But I would have thought it was a betrayal love story.” “I found that this story was more realistic than a fairytale, which was surprising. I assumed all her romance stories would be more fairytale-like based on the idea this was a book about being whimsical and ‘puddle jumping’” Abigail added air quotes as she spoke. “I don’t think the author's intent was for every story to be whimsical. I think it was just short stories that connected her to a childhood hobby. I like that she had a more realistic story.” Jenna explained. “Bernard, you’ve been awfully quiet. Any thoughts to add?” Nora looked over at the senior raccoon. He muttered something, but none of them could hear him. “I’m sorry, Bernard, could you speak up? “I enjoyed it.”  Violet felt like her jaw dropped to the floor, “You did? I thought you hated romance stories?” “I do. But this one reminded me of Beatrice and I. Always thought she was too good for me. But I got the courage one day, and the rest is history. And that's all I'm going to say. Don't need you ladies thinking I'm a softie.” “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Bernard.” Nora offered Bernard a small smile before addressing the rest of the group. “It’s so wonderful to see how we all could find ourselves in this story somewhere. I think the author really tried to connect with her readers. Does anyone else have thoughts to add before we move on to ‘Unwanted Invite?” Nora allowed a few moments of silence to pass before moving on. “Alright then. Who would like to start?” “This one is my favourite out of the two! The forbidden love, the danger of running away, a tea party, it has the makings of a great love story!” Violet placed a hand over her chest and let out a dreamy sigh.  “I liked it up until the end,” Jenna stated. “It felt like a cliff hanger, and I personally like my short stories as one and done, not drawn out. But that’s just my opinion.” “I think I’ll have to disagree with you.” “And why is that, Abigail?" Nora guided the discussion, pleased with how well it was going. “While on its own, it is a complete short story, it leaves space for the author or us as readers to continue building the story. Whereas the first one we read had a defined end, this one had an end, but also a beginning in the end, if that makes sense?” “It does. What a wonderful way to put that, Abby. I believe it shows the author’s range, that not all the stories have to be wrapped up with a bow. Some can be left open for further exploration.” Nora looked around the room, “Violet? You look upset? What’s the matter?” “What if she never goes back? What if the author wrote this amazing story, but never goes back to this world?” “Maybe she doesn’t want to go back. I wouldn’t. This story was not very good.” Bernard cut in. “Any what was it not good Bernard,” Nora sighed as all eyes turned to Bernard. “It was a fairytale. Nothing realistic or thought-provoking about it.” “Here we go again,” Jenn whispered to Abby. Abby covered her mouth to hide the giggle that bubbled up. “So? Why does a good story need to be realistic or thought-provoking?” Violet countered Bernard’s previous statement. “Fairytales teach nothing. They're for children and offer nothing for adults. And this particular story? What was the point? To set up for a story that we’ll never read? It felt more like a prologue than a short story.” “On the contrary! They offer adults a means of escape. A short moment where we can simply exist in a story. And this was a good story! It had a solid plot line, it offered backstory, and it used a cliffhanger, which, if I remember from the last book we read, you liked cliffhangers.” Violet put her hands on her hips and glared at Bernard. Nora let out a small laugh to ease the tension, “Alright, you two. You are both entitled to your opinions. I do agree with Bernard on the point that it did feel like the setup to a much larger story, a story that we very well may never read. But Violet had a good point as well, fairy tales have often been used by adults as a means of escaping from the worries and anxieties that come with being an adult. Now, we have about 10 minutes left. Does anyone have anything else to add?” “Do you think we’ll get a sequel? Or perhaps a full story?” Abby wondered, “I think I’d love a full story.” “I think I’ll side with you on that, Abby. I think I’d read a full story set in this world.” “Neither,” Bernard grumbled. “A second short story, I think. I’m not sure I’d enjoy a full story. I’m afraid it would lose its charm as a full novel.” Violet added with a sideways glance at Bernard. “Hmmm, I think I agree with Violet. The charm is in the short story, I believe. Now, for next week, please have ‘A Love Lost in Time’ and ‘Fictional Love’ read.” Nora waved goodbye to her patrons and sighed a contented sigh as she shut down the little room for another week. Whose the writer? My sister Emily Morris! On top of being my little sister, she is also a mama to two very adorable tiny tornadoes. She loves reading and writing in her spare time.

The sword falls to the ground, and the sound echoes through the lair. "How can it be?" His voice is tight and can barely be heard over the clatter.  She stands tall, her hair like oil hanging at her waist. She’s in a deep red dress he's never seen before, her smile is darker, more sinister and the most genuine he's ever seen. "Oh My Lord, I've always known it was you.” Her laugh fills the lair. *** Gavin lies in bed, his muscles and joints ache; Celestial Tear gave him a workout last night. He hated that, as Wunderkind, he couldn't catch her. She wreaked havoc on his city, and he feels powerless to stop it.  A knock comes at his door, "Gary! Mama sent me to come get you!" he groans. Of course, his mother would send William to wake him. He buries his head in the pillow. "If you don't let me in, I'm gonna come jump on your bed!"  Why his parents decided they needed a second child fifteen years later was beyond him. Remembering the bruises he couldn’t let his little brother see, he rolls out of bed, stuffs pillows under his blankets and moves to the closet, dressing quickly in his matching family attire. Dread fills him as he remembers what today is.  He hears William burst into his room and starts jumping on the bed, laughing like a seven-year-old already overloaded on sugar, and the day's festivities hadn't even started yet. His brother is so hyper that he hasn't even noticed Gavin isn't in bed. He slowly moves towards the bed and scoops up his brother, "I got you!"  "Hey!" William laughs, and Gavin tosses him into the pile of pillows and blankets. They playfully roughhouse for a few minutes, "You win! You win!" William yells, and Gavin helps him stand near the bed. "Let me take a look at you." Gavin adjusts William's outfit, “You look like a lord, Lord William." Gavin ruffles his hair. "Father will be proud of you."  The boys leave Gavin’s quarters and find their mother in the dining room, instructing the staff. She pauses, giving William a welcoming smile, but there is little warmth in her eyes for Gavin, "Well, at least you came down presentable. Nothing can go wrong today-"  Gavin hides his grimace with a softer voice, “Mother, I know. I will fulfill my duty." For a brief moment, he sees her sympathetic smile, which disappears quickly.  The sound of the wheels of their father's chair silences them all. Seeing his father bound to a chair, his guilt ate at him. Every day, he is reminded: if he’d been faster, stronger, bolder, he would not have failed. His father would be able to look him in the eyes.  Both sons wait for their father to take his place at the head of the table. His father rolls in front of them and looks them up and down. "You both have done well. Today is very important for our family." His firm gaze lands on Gavin, "Today is the salvation of our family. It symbolizes reclaiming our place as one of the great houses in this city!" He rolls to his place, and everyone takes their seat.  His mother takes his father's hand. "It took a great deal of promises to secure this agreement. Nothing can go wrong today. We will host a grand gala to announce the engment-." “I get to attend this one, don't I, Father?" Williams interrupts eagerly, not fully grasping the weight of this day, but his father smiles at his young son, something he never did for his oldest. "You do, as long as you behave well.' William beams at his father. Seeing the bond between his father and brother, Gavin wonders, has he ever looked at his father like that?  The family eats with reminders of what today holds and some polite conversation. As the staff begins to clean and the family prepares to meet their important guests. Gavin, despite his exhaustion and pain, helps his mother move and rearrange the meeting room.  Soon it's midmorning, and word rushes through the house, "The Duke is here." Gavin tries to calm his beating heart. William stands next to him, looking at the seven-year-old boy reminds him, why he was doing this. This marriage would bring his family back to their standing; his brother would have his choice of wife or freedom.  He feels his heart slow, just in time, his parents walk in with the Duke, Duchess and their daughter, "And now my sons, this young Lord is William."  William steps forward and bows politely, "Mother, Father, Ladies, Lord."  "Join your governess in the garden, son.'' His mother kneels to look him in the eye, and maybe after lunch, you and your brother can impress our guests with your playing." William nods and rushes out of the garden.  "And this is Gavin, my oldest, and he is eager to meet your daughter, Lady Raven.” Lady Raven steps forward, and Gavin gets a good look at her. Her black hair is up in a tight knot; she wears a dress that matches her mother's, auburn orange, a sharp contrast to the bright blue of his outfit. Is that a sign of what is to come? "Lady Raven, it is a privilege to have you here today." he takes her hand and kisses it.  "Thank you for hosting us today." Her smile is tight, maybe like him, she dreaded this day too.  "I know our parents have taken care of everything and our engagement will begin today, but I had this made for you." He hands her a small box. She slowly opens the box, 'Oh! My! Mother, look at this!" Lady Raven and her mother look at the ring, which he has had his friend, who is both a gem maker and capable of wielding magic, make a swirling stone of both their family colours and set it in a gold band. "It's beautiful, thank you, Lorbnd Gavin. I regret I have no gift for you."  Gavin tries to hide his shock; it wasn't customary for a bride to bring gifts for the groom. Especially when his family was arguably lower than hers, since his father's accident. Her father seems equally as shocked by her statement and shoots her a look. Maybe he and Lady Raven had more in common than he thought. "Thank you, Lord Gavin, your gift is most generous. I'm sure the celebration will be grand tonight." The man almost looks proud of him; could he and his father-in-law have more in common than he does with his own father?  "We are looking forward to hosting the Grand Gala to celebrate. First, the staff has prepared lunch." His mother leads them to the dining room, and the next few hours are full of polite conversation, and Gavin has to admit, Lady Raven is lovely, both in appearance and mind. He could see them being very good friends, maybe finding a true love match. After sharing talents and being impressed by Lady Raven's poetic skills, the families parted ways to get ready for the gala.  At the gala, his father's voice echoed through the hall, "As many of you know, for years my wife and I opened our galas with the first dance. After my accident, my eldest son took my place. Tonight, I pass the tradition on to my son and his betrothed, Lady Raven, Daughter of the duke." The crowd cheers.  Gavin hears comments that the Lord has got his status back. Gavin ignored them and focused on Lady Raven. "You are a lovely dancer, my lady."  She blushes," Well, I'd hope so. My mother's only has had me in lessons since I could walk." She giggles, and oh, did Gavin love the sound; he wanted to hear it all the time. They danced the night away, and he couldn't have complained if he tried. *** Celestial Tear raced through the city, leaping from building to building with such ease that the villagers thought she could fly. Wonderkind follows her from below; she always finds it funny that he acts like a traditional knight. In fairness, his magical sword did lend to that. "Celestial! Can't we put an end to this? He calls up to her.  "Ha! And rot in prison for the rest of my days? No, thank you! I will continue to uproot the rich in this land and ruin the lives of those whom they believe are beneath them.” She sneers.  How could he claim to be the hero when he only helped the rich? She’s a hero among the villagers. As much as she enjoys the battle of wits, she has to wrap this up quickly; she has a wedding to attend tomorrow.  "You harm the villagers by harming their landowners!" He calls out.  That is the last straw. She prepares a small blast and hits one of the small upscale boutiques. She loves the rush of the magic leaving her hand. The boutique makes a small explosion, the blast giving her just enough time to escape. The next morning dawns bright and clear, “What a glorious day to get married.” Raven hums as she and her maids get ready for the day.  "Won't Lord Gavin be surprised tonight when he sees how long your hair is?" One of the girls chuckles as she pins it up with pearl bead pins.  "I suppose he might." Ravens face tings pink.  The wedding is soulless, but as romantic as a marriage between strangers can be. They say their vows, drink bitter wine from a shared cup, and as the day went on, dealt with comments about their wedding night from upperclassmen who were barely more than strangers.  She had to admit seeing her father-in-law in that chair did make her feel a bit guilty, but then he hadn't changed after that; her marriage to his son had proved it. But maybe Gavin was different. Would he help her change the tides? Would he see the lower classes differently? Would he help her cause?  That night in the candlelight of their quarters, Gavin slowly pulls the pins out of her hair, and it cascades down her back, "Beautiful." His voice catches in his throat. She slowly and somewhat clumsily undoes his shirt. She stops. He has bruises, bruises that would match the kind Wonderkind should have? Had she been fighting him for the last five years?  She steps back. He looks at her and raises an eyebrow, "What's wro-" he looks down. "Oh, those." He pulls the shirt back around himself. "Tavern brawl from the night out with the boys." He shrugs.  How often had he, like her, gotten too comfortable lying? What kind of marriage would that be?  Over the next few months of their marriage, Raven realizes her hope had been ill-placed. Gavin proved far worse than her father; he insists on being called Lord by everyone, even her. He spoke down to her, as if she isn’t the daughter of a duke. It is to her benefit that he is her rival, for he could not demand answers for her disappearances without revealing his. What made matters worse for her is that he seemed determined to have her fall in love with him.  He did every­thing but listen to her. When she brings up her ideas for sponsoring schools for girls or providing aid for the food programs in the village, he scoffs, "Wife, we have better use of our funds than throwing it away for those who choose to live in squalor.” Oh, that made her blood boil. How dare he speak to her or anyone else in such a way? She plays his dotting wife during the day, and at night she targets his favourite taverns, shops and anything else she can think of. After a year, she decides it's time to lay the trap. *** Wunderkind stares at the map Celestial Tear dropped. Does she want a truce? Is it on purpose? Regardless, if it meant defeating her in any way, it would be worth the risk.  A few days later, he stands at the door of the lair. He slowly enters, and its halls are too quiet, like she’s expecting him. He rounds the corner and sees her. Celestial Tear, but she's not in her costume. His sword clatters to the ground, "No! It can't be.” Her laugh echoes through to the lair," Oh my dear Wonderkind, shocked to learn your little wife is the villain you've been fighting for years? Shocked to learn the woman who has spent the last year begging you to change and not focus on the rich is the villain you can't stop?" Her words stung like venom.  He'd never feared powers before. "You know, I might have loved you, given this up for you. " She let the ring he bought her fall and roll to his feet, as if it meant nothing. "But you see, you will always be at the beck and call of the rich, and I will always stand for the people."  He watches her load up a blast, "Don't worry, I won't kill you, but when you wake up, you won't remember your sword, Wonderkind, or Celestial Tear. You'll just be Lord Gavin, married to Lady Raven. The rest is up to you." "Wait! Wait!” The blast is all-consuming, and he has to shut his eyes. When he opens them again, he and Lady Raven are in their shared bed, the sun warming the room. He shakes her awake., "Raven, I just had the strangest dream." She rolls over and allows him to pull her close, running her hands through his hair. His heart rate slows, “Tell me everything, husband.” Her voice is like honey, and it chases away the lingering unease from the dream. He melts around her, and he can't help but notice her smile and eyes, brighter than they have in months. Maybe love was in the air after all.

Nora the Owl smiled as she placed the crockpot full of hot chocolate on the table. She looked over the table and did her mental checklist. Coffee, check. Hot chocolate, check. Cups, check., Napkin, check. All that was missing was the tray of goodies. But it was Bernard the Raccoon’s week to bring them, which meant they were in for a real treat. No one made desserts as good as Bernard’s wife, Beatrice. Nora looked around the little room where she ran the book club. She hadn’t made many changes to the room over the years she’d worked at the library. She liked it the way it was, a nice hardwood floor and soft blue coloured walls. She always sets out six chairs, four for her regulars and two just in case, you never know who might want to join.  She walked back to her desk and grabbed two extra copies of the book for the fall and winter months, “Through the Puddles.” It had been Violet the Skunk’s idea, and everyone but Bernard had agreed to it.  “Hello, Nora!” Abigail the Squirrel smiled as she walked in. As a mother of four, Abigail was almost always early. Book club was her one escape, she often joked. “Hi, Abby. You're 10 minutes early. I’m not quite set up.” “Oh, that’s okay, Nora. I’ll just go look at some kids' books. Tommy wanted some new ones anyway.” Nora nodded, and she went back to the book club room to finish setting up.  Eight minutes later, Violet and Jenna the Rabbit walked in. Violet was the newest addition to their club. She had just finished her schooling to become a teacher and had moved back home this summer, and got a job at their local elementary school. Jenna, an empty nester who had once had a full nest when Nora started this book club, had been attending book club since day one and was one of Nora’s closest friends.  “Welcome, please grab a drink, Bernard should be here soon with our goodies.” “Here I am. No need to get impatient.” Bernard muttered as he walked in with a tray of snickerdoodles. He set them on the table, grabbed his coffee and sat down.  “Not even going to enjoy a snickerdoodle?” Abby teased, walking in with a stack of kids' books. “Bah, Beatrice is on my case about watching my health. No goodies for me.” Bernard sulked as he took a sip of coffee. “We won’t tell her,” Jenna winked at Bernard, handing him a cookie. Bernard offered a small smile before accepting the cookie.  Nora waited until everyone had found their seats. “I assume everyone read the intro, Jump Together?” Everyone nodded. “Excellent, well, let’s jump in, shall we?” Nora giggled at her own pun, while a few others, namely Bernard, rolled their eyes. “Oh, I just loved it so much!” Violet exclaimed while jumping in her seat. “It was the perfect intro. I loved how the author used a short story to explain what the book was about!” “Yes, it was rather unusual, but I do feel it fit what the author was trying to convey what her book is about,” Jenna added. “Too whimsical if you ask me,” Bernard jumped in. “ You need  a book full of substance, not whimsy la-dee-da nonsense.” Nora suppressed the eye roll she felt coming on. “I still say we needed a good, solid historical book. One that gets you thinking and reflecting.”  “No one is forcing you to be here, Bernard,” Jenna spoke gently, “if you don’t like the book, you can go home.” “You know I can’t leave. Beatrice has her quilting circle tonight, and my critiques of the quilts aren’t appreciated.” “Are they really critiques? Or are they more like judgmental comments?” Violet levelled a glare at Bernard. Bernard glared right back, but said nothing in defence.  Nora smiled at the antics of the oldest and youngest before cutting in.“Perhaps a perspective shift is in order. Bernard, you say there is no thinking and reflecting in this book, but perhaps that’s what it’s all about? Reflecting on childhood wonder and excitement, and thinking about how we can recapture it. Isn’t that what this intro was all about? Taking a break from the worries of life and picking up a childhood hobby?” “I say it was a nice break from the mental load I carry,” Abby sighed, “Being a mom, always having to look out for my kids, helping them with homework, laundry, cooking. I just don’t have time for myself. I personally love the idea of trying to recapture some of the whimsiness of childhood.” “I agree with Abby,” Violet cut in. “Life is always about moving to the next thing: go to school, find a job, make money, get married, raise kids. There’s not a lot of time for fun. Maybe what the world needs is for all of us to find our inner child and let them out every once and a while.” “Bah, back in my day, we worked hard to provide, even as kids! There was no whimsy to be had.” “Then perhaps,  this book is your chance to find whimsy now.” Jenna gently suggested to Bernard. “Wouldn’t it be fun to not worry about everything and just kick back and enjoy a fun short story every now and then? I believe the author's intent was for all of us to release our inner child.  I did that this week! I pulled out my old paints and started painting again.” “Oh! That’s wonderful, Jenna!”  “Yes, it is, Abby. I think this book is what we all need right now.” “What a wonderful sentiment, Jenna.” Nora pulled the group back in. “Does anyone else have thoughts on the intro?” Nora listened as the group carried on for another hour before ending the meeting. “Alright for next time, let’s read the first two short stories in the Romance Section.” “ROMANCE! No one told me we would be reading romance stories! What have you ladies pulled me into?” Bernard huffed and glared at them. “Bernard, did you actually do any research on this book like I suggested before we picked it?” Nora asked. Bernard huffed and sank further into his seat. “I’ll take that as a no. For next week, have “He Swore He Wouldn’t and Unwanted Invite” read.” Nora grinned as the group ended and everyone packed up.  “Have a good week, Nora!” Violet smiled as she left, along with Abby. “Need any help with clean up?” Bernard asked as he covered the leftover snickerdoodles. “Oh, no, thank you, Bernard. I think I’ve got it covered, but I do hope you can enjoy some of the stories in the book.” Bernard offered her a nod as he headed out.  “I’ll see you Thursday for paint night. I decided to join the program!” Jenna hugged Nora. “I look forward to it!” Nora locked the door and waved goodbye to Jenna. She had a good feeling about this book. Whose the writer? My sister Emily Morris! On top of being my little sister, she is also a mama to two very adorable tiny tornadoes. She loves reading and writing in her spare time.

Willow has never seen a sky full of stars. As a designated day guard, she simply wasn't built for it. As the sun sets and the sky fades from blue to pink, her eyes get heavy and, as if on autopilot, she returns to her sleep pod. She simply can't fight it. She'd seen many try to, but no one could. Some are built for the day, others for the night. And rarely shall the two interact. Those who are built for the night live in a dome that protects their sleep. It is temperature-controlled and soundproof, and light is kept to a minimum.  Willow has heard stories about the past, when those who were built for the night were forced to do life during the day. She couldn't imagine being forced to fight her desire to sleep at night…though she does wish that she could see the night sky or even meet a night guard. If she lived closer to the dome, she would have a chance at dusk and dawn; their worlds should overlap.  She's heard rumours of a café where the two worlds collide. Now that she is a verified day guard, she could request any station she wanted. Her parents, who are also built for the day, want her to stay close to home. She could stay with them, under their watchful eyes. If she is honest, that’s the last thing she wants. Willow’s ready for freedom.  She requests a post near the dome. On her first day off, she searches for the café and, as the sun starts to dip behind the dome, she finds it! At the end of this little dead-end road that she swears she'd walked down already, as if it came out of nowhere, there it was. The Sleepy Morning Café - what a fitting name.  She walks in.  "Good evening." A boy in a dark uniform smiles at her. "Would you like to try a Calming Tea Latte?"  "Do you have a lavender honey blend?” She scans the menu, which shows a perfect blend of morning pick-me-ups and evening wind-down drinks.  "Oh yes, we have a delightful lavender tea and a homemade lavender syrup for your coffee in the morning, IF you need a pick-me-up." He starts making her drink.  "Oh, and can I have a cookie too? I love a sweet treat before bed." Willow taps her wrist and pays for her drink and pastry.  The young man hands her a cup and a small bag. “If you're staying, the tables on the side that face the wall are for those who do not want to be bothered. In the center, it means you're open to talking with strangers."  "Oh! How fun!" Willow takes a seat in the center and enjoys her tea latte. It is perfect! She'll have to be careful not to spend her whole paycheque here.  She opens up her book and reads. After a few pages, she hears, "Excuse me, are you reading Velcomes Challenger?" Willow looks up and sees a man dressed in a uniform that looks like hers, only in cooler tones, with a moon pin. "Yes, yes, it is. This is my second read through. Have you?" She puts her bookmark in and closes her book, inviting him to sit.  "Yes, it's one of my favourites.” He takes a seat. "I'm Theo.” "Willow," she smiles. "Night Guard, I assume?"  "Correct, Day Guard?"  She nods.  "You must be new. Oh, I bet you took Vivian's spot. She got married a few weeks ago. Best of luck to her husband, if you know what I mean. The few times I ran into her, I left wishing I hadn't." He chuckles.  "Oh no, I hope I'm better than that." His laugh and smile are contagious, and Willow laughs along.  "I’m not looking for a way out of this conversation, so you're winning so far.” He winks. “What are you drinking? It smells oddly floral."  "Oh yes! It's a lavender tea and honey latte."  He makes a face.  "Let me guess, you drink your coffee black, maybe a flavoured creamer on holidays if you're really in the holiday mood." She raises an eyebrow.  "How-how did you do that?" He shakes his head. "Guilty as charged." "I used to work at a coffee shop in high school," she shrugs and fights a yawn. Theo looks at his wrist. "Ah, it is almost that time." His face falters a bit. "Not sure if the day guards work the same, but the night guards have four nights on, three nights off. I'm just coming off my three days off. I normally start and end my work days with a visit to this shop. So if you'd like to run into me again…" He slides an ID number across the table. "I just finished my orientation here, so I don't have my official schedule yet. Once I get it, I'll let you know." She adds his ID number to her contacts and sends him a message with a bunch of suns.  "Cute," he chuckles.  Willow bids Theo farewell. As she heads back to her sleep pod, she looks to the sky, sunset colour flooding her view. "I'd hoped I could see stars from here." Willow sighs to herself and makes her way to her sleep pod. *** It takes two weeks before she and Theo run into each other at Sleepy Morning Café. But they have messaged several times. They arrive at the same time.  "Theo!" "Willow!" They exclaim simultaneously.  They both laugh, and Theo opens the door. "After you."  Willow orders a lavender latte with honey, and Theo orders a cup of chamomile tea. "I'm glad our day off and on line up so that we can see each other," Willow says, as they sit down.  "Yeah, it's nice to have someone to talk to in the morning ." Theo bites into his muffin. Willow eats her breakfast sandwich. “Yeah, I'm making friends in my unit, but this is nice. And learning about how the night guards work is really helpful.” "And I like knowing a day guard is looking out for me." Theo winks.  Willow blushes. "You can't just keep saying stuff like that." "You make it easy," he smirks.  Willow smiles, then it falters.  "Hey, what's wrong? Does it bother you? I'll stop."  "No, no. It's not that. It's just - we just met, and sure, it's fun to flirt, but is there a point? We can't do anything, can we?"  "Hey, I wouldn't flirt with you if I didn't want to keep getting to know you.” He drops the playful nature. "I'm aware of the risks, but you interest me, and I wanna keep learning about you." "Oh." Willow looks down. "I would like that. You interest me too." "Alright then, let's keep meeting like this." Theo gives her a charming smile.  Weeks turn into months, and slowly that interest grows to feelings. "How would a relationship even work?" Willow asks over their drinks of lavender honey latte and black coffee.  "I'm sure we can't be the only ones who were built for the day and night who have fallen for each other." Theo hums. "It's not like we can't keep meeting like this. We could even meet each other's families if we time it right."  "You make it sound so easy." She fiddles with her cup. "Maybe it is. People used to make it work all the time."  "Is there something from the day you've always wanted to see?" Willow looks out the window, their time together dwindling. Theo gives her a look. "Ah, change of topic. But I’ve always wondered what a bright blue sky full of clouds looks like. Oh! and a rainbow - always wondered about those."  "And I've never seen the stars.” Willow smiles. "So if you promise to tell me about the stars, I promise to tell you about the blue skies and rainbows."

All the women of my craft night have arrived, and I am waiting for Ellie, a friend of mine from an old job, who I have been begging to join us for years now. I’m thrilled she finally agreed to join us. Jess is also late, but she called ahead and she’s bringing coffee for everyone. I see Ellie pull up, I rush to the door, and throw it open, “OH MY GOSH YOU CAME!” I pull her into a hug. I feel her stiffen as everyone looks at us, but I say nothing. I grab her hand and take her around to meet everyone, I introduce her to everyone, once we’ve done a lap around the room, I see that she is holding a colouring book, I didn’t know she coloured, “I see you have coloured penicles, so you can sit with Jess at the table, she's an amazing artist. She works with charcoal. But she’s running late, so set up there and she’ll join you when she gets here.” Ellie makes a slight face at the name Jess, and I feel like I should remember why, but I brush that thought aside. She takes a seat and opens her colouring book. I take a seat and get into my diamond art. We chat about our days and update each other on workplace drama. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ellie start to relax. I feel good about inviting her. Suddenly, the door opens, and Jess burst in, "The coffee shop line was crazy, ladies! But I got everyone’s favourite!” Everyone grabs their coffee, and Jess heads to Ellie at the table. I’m sure they’ll be fast friends, and I look back at my diamond art. "Oh! You must be Marcy's friend from her old job. I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were coming, and Marcy didn’t give me your coffee ord- It's you!" I hear Jess stammer. “It's me," Ellie's voice is tight like she’s uncomfortable. Did they know each other? “I swear I had no idea you and John moved here, Ellie. My boyfriend, I have one of those now. I met him after you got married. He got a job in the city, so I followed him. I promise!” Jess’s voice is frantic, oh my gosh, Jess is the Jessica that Ellie's mother-in-law was obsessed with! How did I not figure this out? “I’ll go, you can stay, I don’t want to kic-” Jess starts. Ellie stops her, "Please, I believe you. I promise I do. But I can't do this right now.” She quickly gathers up her colouring book and pencils, "Marcy, I'll call you in the morning.” She races out of my house. We all just stare awkwardly at each other before silently going back to our crafting. No one asks for the story, I play some music in the background, and I slip upstairs to call Ellie. She picks up after one ring, “Marcy, I'm not coming back, you can't make me." I wince, she’s not wrong, I have tried to convince her to come back to events in the past, "Look, I know that Jessica isn't to blame and she probably wants to talk, but I can't right now. We just started healing our relationship with his mother. I'm not ready to face the cause of the fracture." "Girl, I respect that. I wish I had connected the dots between both of y'all's stories before inviting you. Maybe we can find another club for you to join, or maybe you and Jess can talk it out, and you can join us!” I know it’s a long shot, but hey, a girl can dream. “Honestly, the library has a video game club. John and I have been thinking about joining. So I'm not sure crafting is for me anyway. But I'll think about it.” I sigh, "Whatever you say, Ellie. Will you still be up for our walk on Wednesday?" “Of course, Marcy. I'll see you then.” She hangs up the phone, and as I walk downstairs, I hear the chatter of my friends pick back up.

I grip the steering wheel of the car until my knuckles are white. Why had I let Marcy talk me into joining her craft club? I glance at the colouring book and the cheap set of coloured pencils I picked up at the dollar store on my way here. It had been years since I’d coloured, and maybe it was a lame craft, but I didn’t want to learn a new craft in front of strangers. Letting out a slow breath, I leave my car and turn to face the house. Marcy waves at me from the window. I wave back. I’d met her at my first job here in the city, and when I left that job, she kept in touch, changing us from work friends to real-life friends. She’s been on my case for months to join this craft club. She seems to think I am too much of a homebody and need more friends. It’s not my fault that my cat and husband are the perfect amount of companionship, and that I would rather play my farming sim than deal with people after a day of work. When I get to the door, before I can even knock, she throws open the door, “OH MY GOSH YOU CAME!” She pulls me into a hug. I try not to stiffen as everyone turns to look at us. She grabs my hand and drags me around to meet everyone. “As Marcy guides me into the living room she gestures to a room full of people, she rattles off names and I try to pay attention, I notice some knitting, crocheting, something with needle and thread, someone has a diamond art on a TV tray and then at the table someone has a drawing set up. “I see you have coloured penicles, so you can sit with Jess at the table, she's an amazing artist. She works with charcoal. But she’s running late, so set up there and she’ll join you when she gets here.” The name Jess triggers a memory I'd rather forget; my husband's ex is named Jessica, and my mother-in-law was determined she was the only one for her son. She dragged that other woman to several of our engagement events. I think the only reason she didn't show up at our wedding is because my husband threatened to uninvite his mother if she didn't drop the issue. So even though Jessica was out of our lives now, I couldn't help but feel like I was forever in her shadow. I wasn't even sure if I blamed the woman; she always seemed uncomfortable at the events my mother-in-law dragged her to. We moved away from his home after our wedding, giving some much-needed space from his mother and the ex-girlfriend. I shake my head and take a seat, and open my colouring book, looking for a picture to colour. As I flip through the book, I settle on a picture that reminds me of my cat. Over the next half an hour, I listen to these women share stories from their day, and update each other on work place drama. It’s nice to list to everyone chat, I feel myself start to relax, maybe I could join this group. Suddenly, the door opens, and I don’t look up right away as I am focused on the shading in a picture. "The coffee shop line was crazy, ladies! But I got everyone’s favourite!” I freeze, that voice no, it can't be. I hear the women share their thanks, "Oh! You must be Marcy's friend from her old job. I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were coming and Marcy didn’t give me your coffee ord-" I look up to see if my guess is correct and she stops, “It's you!" She stammers. “It's me," I say awkwardly. “I swear I had no idea you and John moved here, Ellie. My boyfriend, I have one of those now. I meant him after you got married. He got a job in the city, so I followed him. I promise!” Her voice is frantic. “I’ll go, you can stay, I don’t want to kic-” I held up my hand, "Please, I believe you. I promise I do. But I can't do this right now.” I quickly gather up my colouring book and pencils, "Marcy, I'll call you in the morning.” I quickly race out of there. As soon as I'm in my car I call John. “Hey, Gorgeous? Why are you calling me? Aren't you at Marcy's crafting thing?” He sounds worried. I start driving, "I was! But you'll never guess who's a member?” "You better tell me then.” He teases, trying to lighten the mood, "It's not the manager who made your life miserable at the old job, is it?” "No, that might have been easier to deal with.” I let out a sigh, and I turned to take the road toward the ice cream. "Then who could it be?” He asks, clearly on the edge of his seat. “Jessica." I say flatly. “As in my ex Jessic? As in the women, my mother is for whatever reason obsessed with Jessica?” His disbelief is not well hidden. “Yes! She even still does charcoal drawing. And get this, Marcy even thought we'd be great friends!" I pull into the ice cream shop parking lot. “Well, you do both have great taste in men." He chuckles. “Shut up." I laugh, “I stopped at the ice cream shop, you want anything?" “If you want your own, I'll get a strawberry blast, but if you wanna share whatever chocolate explosion you're gonna want is fine with me." I can hear his smile. “I’ll see you soon, Gorgeous." The line goes dead. I head into the ice cream shop and order our two dishes. Just as I sit back down in the car, Marcy calls. “Marcy, I'm not coming back, you can't make me." I take a breath that was sharper than I intended, "Look, I know that Jessica isn't to blame and she probably wants to talk, but I can't right now. We just started healing our relationship with his mother. I'm not ready to face the cause of the fracture." "Girl, I respect that. I wish I had connected the dots between both of y'all's stories before inviting you. Maybe we can find another club for you to join, or maybe you and Jess can talk it out, and you can join us!” as if it could be that easy. “Honestly, the library has a video game club. John and I have been thinking about joining. So I'm not sure crafting is for me anyway. But I'll think about it.” I hear her sigh on the other end of the line, "Whatever you say, Ellie. Will you still be up for our walk on Wednesday?" “Of course, Marcy. I'll see you then.” I hang up the phone and drive home to my cat, husband, the only company I need for tonight.

Ulrich wraps his arms around my waist, “You're wearing the dress I love." He whispers, and I giggle like we hadn't been married for 15 years. “Well, we're hosting your yearly friends gathering, so I figured I should dress to impress." I shoo him off so I can finish my makeup. “Yes, my friends should be here shortly." His smile doesn't reach his eyes, but he leaves before I can push. I join him downstairs as the doorbell rings. "Crimson Drake! How lovely to see you again.” I reach out my hand. He, in dramatic fashion, kisses my hand, “Lady Ravenshade! You look ravishing as always. Lord Ravenshade.” He nods. “My dear, I would like to show Crimson our newest investment, do you mind manning the door for a moment?" He gestures to The Music Room. “Of course, dear, I'll be just fine.” I watch the two of them head off, and I cannot help but wonder why all of his friends call us Lord and Lady. Surely we've been friends long enough for them to use our names. I don't have long to dwell on it before the doorbell rings again. I open the door and am greeted by the ladies of the event, “Saffron Bloom, Indigo West, Jade Glass! Lovely to see you all again! You must join me in The Tea Salon later, I've been working on a tea blend I think you'll just love!" “Why don't you just take the ladies now, my dear? I will wait for our last guests." Ulrich kisses my cheek before sending me off. I lead the ladies to The Tea Salon. I listen as they share stories about the last year and the different adventures they've had. Maybe being a housewife wasn't the path I should have taken. Soon, I mix up the tea blend, and we test Saffron’s ability to guess the herbs I used. After the teacups are empty, I lead them to The Conservatory Ballroom. “I’ll stay behind for a moment. The botanist in me needs to check out your collection.” Saffron waves us off with a smile. I breathe in the fresh air. I love all the trees and plants we had planted, and the hanging lanterns, it had such a whimsy to it. It has originally been an open courtyard at the center of the Manner, you can see it from every room, and most rooms have access to it, and it leads to The Garden Gallery. “Lady Ravenshade, I see The Rosewood Library has acquired a new painting. I must go see it for myself." Indigo walks through the library door. "Oh yes, please do!” I watch her go, and then Jade touches my shoulder. “Lady Ravenshade, this would be a great space to have a class. I would totally give you a deal.” Jade starts rattling on, she is so much younger than everyone else here, I don't know how she got included in this dinner a few years ago. She keeps talking when suddenly, "Love! Where are my note cards? They aren't in my coat.” He hollers from the main entrance to the ballroom. "In your office, my love.” I holler back, giggling, looking at Jade, "He'd be lost without me." Her face has gone white. "I think I'll go check out your Garden Gallery.” She quickly moves on. I know it's not a good look for a hostess to be alone, so I decided to head to the library to talk to Indigo. When suddenly I hear Jade's voice, it sounds like she tripped or hurt herself on something in the Garden. Before I can head in the direction, the lights go out. "A power outage? It's not even storming out.” I hear a door open behind me, but those are off limits to the guests. "Who's there?” I call out. "Elodie.” The voice is soft and gentle, not one I immediately recognized. “You and all of this was supposed to be mine. His father practically adopted me, promised me the Manner because Ulrich was useless. But then he discovered I was in love with you!" Alabaster, where did he come from? He gets closer, towering over me. “What are you saying!?" I back up, running into one of the decorative displays, and I hear something clanking to the ground. I'm out of space to run, “Ulrich! I scream. He throws crumpled papers at me. “So he stole from you, and then figured out how to take Father's business right under him and won it all! And I was left with NOTHING!" He grabs me, and I feel something sharp near the top of my shoulder. Something clinks against the ground. I scream in pain, and my body feels warm. “No! No! No! It wasn’t supposed to be you! It was supposed to be him.” I hear Alabaster cry out. I fight to stay, I fall to the ground. “They can’t find you here… He’ll know it was me. The window…” I struggle to stay awake, but keep fading out, I am pushed through a window, the house is so dark, he climbs the stairs, and sets me on the bedroom floor. “This could have been ours.” Then the world goes dark. The memory fades, and I stand in The Conservatory Ballroom. I wonder if I can… I try to pick up the papers, to my surprise, I can, maybe it’s because no one is around. Regardless, I read it’s a love letter, telling me his plan and his devotion to me and how I would grow to love him… I shudder at the thought. But he couldn’t have used the spade, I knocked it over, so what did… then something caught my eye in one of the plants. I approach the letter opener… “So it was, Alabaster Finch in The Conservatory Ballroom with Antique Letter Opener.” I’d done it, I solved my own murder, and somehow I felt hollow. I move back to The South Wing Study, I look through files and notebooks and learn all the lies my husband kept from me. I’d loved a man who never existed. The version of him I knew was a mask. I feel the rage fill me. I watch in the foyer as the group solves the murder and Alabaster is hauled off. Ulrich holds a funeral, playing the man I knew him to be. People speak highly of me, and even buy the story of an unseen medical condition. Ulrich has me buried in his family's lot. Ulrich lays flowers on my grave, “Oh my love, light of my life, I will spend my days mourning you.” I wish I believed him. My tombstone reads, “Loving and Faithful Wife Elodie Ravenshade”. And I hate it. My life was more than the liar I was married to. I hate that my last name will always be tied to him, I hate that my stuck in his favourite dress. “I solved my own murder, shouldn’t that get me some say in what happens next?!” I shout to no one in particular. “You're right, it should. Especially when you were never meant to die.” Someone who looks like a ghost, but he had an aura of authority about him, “Greetings, I am The Guide, I have come to guide you away from here. But seeing how cruel life has been to you, let me grant you some agency.” His smile is warm. “Can I please wear my sunset orange dress? Instead of this black one,” he nods and with a snap of his fingers, my dress changes, and I feel more like me. “Thank you!” I float and spin, feeling freer. “You have another request.” He speaks gently. “Can we change the name on my tombstone to what it was before?” I gesture around me, “All of this.” “And what is that?” He says with a hint of a smile. “Elodie Dawn. My name is Elodie Dawn.” I say as a light glows around me. He waves his hand, and my name changes on the tombstone, “Elodie Dawn, you are ready to cross the river, let me guide you there.” He offers me a hand and we set off.