Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception

“Feeding horses?”



Jerk. He couldn’t hint at things and then play hard to get. It wasn’t fair. “What else?”



His voice was level. “Scaring snakes.”



“What else?”



“Curing scorpion bites.”



“What else?”



“Seeing faeries,” Luke said. He jumped from the painted line up onto the sidewalk. “Phew. Made it.” Then he took my hand and tugged me up after him. “Now stop being so clever and let’s get some ice cream.”



I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. I stopped outside the door. “Clever how?”



He wagged a finger at me. “It’s what I like about you. You listen. You watch. It’s how you learned to do everything so well, while everyone else talked over top of everyone else. Now, would you please stop riddling me for half a moment so we can get some ice cream?”



I relented, though my heart thumped as he led me into the frigid air-conditioning. Not normal. Not ordinary. I knew I should be running back home this second, but I was stuck. Stuck as stuck, Luke would say.



As he looked at the menu board, I said, “I never thought I’d be the sort that went for bad boys.”



Luke didn’t look at me, but he smiled widely, the biggest smile he’d worn all day. “No more riddling, remember? What’s good here?”



I’d eaten enough ice cream in place of meals to answer immediately. “Chocolate Dream.”



Sara Madison, a wine-bottle-shaped redhead who occasionally worked with me, was at the counter. She looked at Luke with considerable interest. “Can I help you?”



He politely asked for two Chocolate Dream cones and Sara, with no acknowledgment of my presence, obligingly began to scoop, smiling at him all the while. I leaned on the counter and pretended not to be annoyed. She always flirted with any remotely attractive male who entered the shop, and Luke more than qualified. It wasn’t a personal attack. And if Luke was worth anything at all, he wouldn’t rise to the occasion. Still, I couldn’t help but glance over to see what effect the gigantically endowed Sara’s attentions were having on him. His face had the same mild expression as usual as he counted out six one-dollar bills, but I saw a glimpse of that private smile right before he took a step to close the gap between us.



“You’ve got something on your shoulder.” While Sara watched, he lightly ran a finger across the skin of my shoulder up to my ear. My stomach dropped so far out from under me that I didn’t think I was ever going to get it back.



He said softly, “I think I got it.” Then he turned to Sara, taking the cones. “You can keep the change. Let’s eat outside, Dee.”



Sara’s smile had vanished, and she turned abruptly to begin cleaning the milkshake machine. I wondered if she’d say anything about it to me later. But I wondered more if Luke would ever touch me again.



Gesturing with his chin toward the door, Luke led me back outside into the unbearable sunshine. The parking space beside his car was empty; we sat down on the railroad tie at the head of the space. In the dappled shade and holding an ice cream cone, it was almost pleasant.



I said, “Something on my shoulder, huh?”



Luke smiled and licked his cone. “You wanted saving, didn’t you?”



“You can’t just go and do that to a girl without warning. It’s not fair. I could’ve fallen down or something.”



His voice bordered on smug. “You liked it?”



Cheeks hot, I studied the glistening drops of ice cream forming on the edge of my cone. “What a stupid question.”



“I’m new to this. I’ve never tried exercising this particular repertoire of skills. I’m thrilled that I learned something from watching chick flicks.”



I so wanted to believe him, and I so didn’t. “You’ve had girlfriends before.”



He shook his head. “No one’s ever inspired me to mend my evil ways. May I practice on you?”



It was petty, but I was instantly irritated by the word “practice.” I didn’t want to be anyone’s practice. “No, you may not.”



He sighed. “See, you are clever. Very well. Do you mind if I stick around for a while, anyway? You fascinate me and I want to know why.”



“‘Fascinate’ is a very strong term,” I said. “Plants fascinate horticulturists. Stars fascinate astronomers. Bugs fascinate—uh—bugologists. I don’t know if I want to be studied. I don’t know if I’m worth being studied.”



Luke considered. “Well, of course you’re worth being studied. You’re extraordinary at everything you do. Without any external influence. You’re extraordinary at everything you do just because you try to be. No superpowers. Just hard work. It’s quite amazing. Oh, I’ve done it again, haven’t I? You’re pissed at me again.”



I had tried to keep the look off my face, but I couldn’t. He was wrong though; I wasn’t angry, I was disappointed. For once I didn’t want someone to look at everything I could do and be awed. I wanted someone to just see me, what made me me, and be fascinated. I was so tired of hearing how great and amazing I was from people who would never know anything about me. I had let myself believe all this time that the real me was what Luke was flirting with, not the me destined for CD covers and exceptional alumni lists.



“God, you’re pissed enough that you’re not even talking!” Luke moved closer on the railroad tie to get a better look at my face. “I’ve really put my foot in it now, haven’t I? I don’t even know what I said.”



My voice was half the strength it was supposed to be, which I hated. How in the world had he reduced me to tears? “I—I’m just so tired of people telling me how talented I am. I’d like to be amazing even if I was the most untalented person in the world. All anybody ever sees when they see me is the stupid harp. They never see who I really am.”



Luke reached up a thumb and gently swiped away the single tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. Who you really are is why you’re so good at everything. You won’t let yourself be otherwise. And that’s what fascinates me.”



Part of me wanted his hand to linger on my face, but pride and embarrassment made me knock it away. Fragile wasn’t an image I liked to wear. “I don’t normally cry. I mean, unless I’m frustrated. I feel so—” I struggled for words and for dignity.



He said softly, “Your ice cream’s melting.”



Relieved, I turned back to my cone. We sat in silence for long moments, finishing our ice cream. Then I said, without looking at him, “If I still fascinate you, you can study me for a while. But I won’t be ‘practice.’”



“Thank you.” He wrestled his keys from his back pocket and laid them on his leg, swallowing the last of his cone.



Without thinking first, I asked, “Is that a key for every secret?” Immediately I feared I’d violated our unspoken agreement, and that he would vanish in a poof of smoke.



But he didn’t seem concerned by the question. Instead, he smiled vaguely and said, “Possibly. How many keys do you have?”



“Two.”



“Is that how many secrets you have?”



I thought about it. One for the clover on the bedside stand. One for the way I felt about Luke. “Yes.”



His fingers toyed with his keys. “Would you like another?”



I didn’t answer, but I watched him slide a key from his too-full ring. It was a small, heavy, old-fashioned key, with a spot of rust on one side. He glanced around as if someone might care what we were doing, and then pushed the iron key into my hand. Putting his lips right up against my ear, his breath hotter than the summer day, he whispered, “Here is another secret: I have no business being fascinated by you.”



His lips almost formed into a kiss. Then he pulled away quickly and stood up. I was dizzy and had to close my eyes for a moment to reorient myself. I put the key in my pocket.



Holding out a hand, Luke pulled me to my feet and led me to the other side of the car, his eyes distant and his face preoccupied.



Before he shut the passenger door behind me, I briefly smelled a snatch of herbal fragrance in the summer air, quite apart from Luke’s odor or the usual asphalt stench of Dave’s parking lot. And then I realized I did have a third secret to go with my key: there was some sort of danger gathering around me. But I wasn’t afraid.



“Oh, Granna’s here.” I peered over the dashboard as Luke pulled into the driveway. Her white Ford was so bright in the noon sun that I couldn’t look directly at it. “Mom must’ve invited her over for my birthday.”



“Birthday?” Luke switched off the car. “Today?”



“Actually yesterday, but I get cake today.” I tried to keep the hopeful edge out of my voice. “Want to stay for it?”



“Hmm.” Luke got out of the car and came around to open my door. “I shouldn’t. It does sound terribly interesting, though. Will your awful aunt be here?”



I frowned. “She’s already here. She’s doesn’t go home until next week. When her concert tour starts.”



“Very posh.”



I grunted in agreement, and then turned as movement caught my eye: Granna getting out of her car. She immediately caught sight of me and smiled. Then she dove back into her car.



Luke looked puzzled. “Purse?”



“Granna doesn’t carry a purse. She’s not that sort of grandmother. Probably presents.”



Sure enough, Granna emerged holding an impossibly small, wrapped package in one hand and a gigantic one in the other. “Could you take one of these, Deirdre?”



I jumped out of the car and hurried to take the larger one from her. Hanging back at my elbow, Luke moved restlessly, like a wolf.



“This is Luke, Granna.” I stepped to the side. “He played in the competition yesterday.”



Luke stilled and held out a hand, formally. “How do you do.”



Granna let him take her right hand, and he kissed it—a gesture, oddly enough, that seemed both natural and appropriate.



“Do you see this, young man?” Granna held up her left hand, where a dull, silver-colored ring and a gold wedding band sat together on her still-strong ring finger.



Luke smiled wanly. “I do, ma’am.”



I frowned at them.



Granna thrust the small package into Luke’s face, her voice lowered as if I weren’t standing right beside him. “What do you think she’s getting from me for her birthday present, eh? And what are you doing here again?”



I looked to Luke for his answer, hoping for some clue as to what this conversation was about, but he stayed silent, just looking at Granna.



“Don’t you even think of it.” Granna took a step closer to him. I had the sense of a small dog barking at a sleeping lion.



“Hey,” I started, not even sure what I ought to say to diffuse this weirdly combative situation.



Luke spoke as if I hadn’t, sounding humble. “I’m just here for a little while, ma’am.”