Chelsea’s parents brought in breakfast from the diner the next morning, and she stuffed herself with waffles, eggs, sausage, and bacon. It felt so good to eat a meal without adding up all the calories in the back of her head. Of course, she’d be doing that again soon enough, but for this one meal, she’d cut herself some slack.
“So, what are the two of you up to today?” she asked as she poured herself some more orange juice.
“Your father and I thought we’d go into Riston and visit some antique shops,” her mom replied. “Do you want to come?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ve still got this brace thing going on, and besides, this is your anniversary trip. I’m just glad that we’re having breakfast together. That means a lot.”
Her parents smiled at each other. “You know, we talked about you for a while after we went to bed last night, and we agreed how blessed we are to have a daughter like you,” her dad said. “Thank you for sharing your feelings with us last night. We’re not promising that we’re going to do everything perfectly from now on, and we’re definitely not ready to start singing and dancing like we’re in some kind of musical, but you gave us a lot to think about and to work on, and we appreciate that.”
“I don’t want you to start singing and dancing. That would be creepy. And I don’t want matching outfits or for us to start doing everything together—that would be creepy too. Breakfast. Breakfast is good. An occasional snack. That works.”
“We can do that.” Her mother took a sip of her coffee, then put the mug back on the table. “What are your plans for today?”
“I need to see Dr. Michelle—maybe you could help me with that before you leave. Then I thought I’d write that letter to the dean, since I didn’t get it done yesterday, and then I’ll take a nap. I might even be really slothful and take two naps.”
“I’d be glad to help you get over to Dr. Michelle’s,” her dad said. “It was nice of your lifeguard friend to help you yesterday. Will you be seeing him at all today?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure he’s got a lot to do—he’s on a volunteer S&R team heading out to fight wildfires tomorrow, so I imagine he’s busy.”
“That’s nice,” her father replied, his nose already dipping back into his newspaper. Chelsea smiled. She couldn’t expect things to be completely different just overnight.
Dr. Michelle told her to take off the brace, but to keep the knee wrapped for another day, and to walk around on it a little bit. Gently, not strenuously. Chelsea insisted that her parents take off for their day of antiquing, and then she decided to take a gentle, not strenuous walk around the parking lot.
A little gray rabbit was hopping along near the edge of the blacktop, and she stopped to look at him. He seemed so soft, like he’d melt into a puff of gray cloud if she touched him. Then he hopped away, and she looked up to see that he was heading toward a curious yard full of garden gnomes—not alive—and more rabbits, alive.
She walked a little bit closer, her curiosity killing her. What sort of little house was this?
“Well, it took you long enough to get here. I suppose that’s the limp and I can’t hold it against you, though.”
Chelsea startled at the voice. “Hello?” she called out tentatively.
A small woman popped her head over one of the bushes in the yard. “Over here, dear. I was just doing a little bit of pruning. The fairies don’t like it when my bushes get too bushy. They say it suffocates them.”
“The fairies?” Chelsea asked. She almost expected this woman to be a fairy herself, from the looks of her house. But when she came around the bush, she was dressed in regular clothes, not a gossamer gown, and she had no wings at all. It was sort of disappointing.
“Yes, dear. Fairies. Small winged creatures? Often depicted as being female, although that overlooks the rather flourishing male fairy population?”
“I’m sorry. Yes, I do know what fairies are. I just don’t often hear people talk about them. Except for flirt fairies, but I made that up.”
The woman put one hand on her hip. “And there’s the injustice of it all. Poor things don’t get near the credit they deserve. Well, come in—we’re wasting time, you know. Only so many hours in a day, no matter how often I ask for more.”
Bemused, Chelsea followed the woman into her home, taking the steps gingerly and holding onto the rail.
“Finally, someone slower than I am,” the woman said with a chuckle. “I’m Jaclyn, by the way, and I oversee the RV park here on the ranch.”
“It’s good to meet you, Jaclyn. I’m a guest here for a little while. My name’s Chelsea.”
“And you’re a swimmer. No, the fairies didn’t tell me that, although they do tell me a great many things. I say that because you have a faint odor of chlorine about you, and the ‘Swimming Is Life’ T-shirt you’re wearing. I can surmise some things on my own,” she said, as though anyone was saying she couldn’t.
“Yes, I am a swimmer,” Chelsea said, lowering herself into the chair Jaclyn showed her. “So, what kinds of things do the fairies tell you?”
“They tell me that you were supposed to have pizza for dinner last night.”
“I . . . I was? Well, I had Chinese, and it was very good.”
“Chinese!” Jaclyn shook her head. “I suppose we’ll have to overlook that because it was for the greater good.”
“Okay,” Chelsea said slowly. She startled a bit when a rabbit jumped up onto her lap and settled in. If rabbits could purr, she was pretty sure this one would be doing it. “Do the fairies have any ideas for my dinner tonight?”
“They’re utterly silent, although if you ask me, I’d get some of the tomato bisque soup from the dining room and pair it with grilled cheese sandwiches. Not very fancy, but my, does it hit the spot.”
Chelsea’s mouth watered as soon as she heard the words. “That sounds really good.”
“Trust me, you won’t regret it.” Jaclyn leaned forward and opened a tin of cookies that was sitting on the coffee table. “I’d offer you chamomile tea, but you don’t like it. You’re averse to anything floating in your liquid, and sadly, tea makes floating leaves.”
“Um, you’re right,” Chelsea said, taking a cookie. “How did you know?”
Jaclyn gave her an exaggeratedly patient look. “How many times are we going to cover this same topic, my dear? The fairies. They know all, they see all—they’re like magic, you see, because they are magic. And they would also like me to tell you that it’s not too late, and that all misunderstandings can be cleared up with conversation.”
“Too late for what?”
“Well, for goodness’ sake, how am I supposed to know?” Jaclyn shook her head. “I can’t possibly carry around all that information all the time—my brain is already operating at maximum capacity as it is. Now eat your cookie and get to work. Time’s a-wastin’!”
Startled, Chelsea finished her cookie, which really was very good, thanked her unusual hostess, gave the reluctant rabbit back, and left, hobbling back toward her cabin. She had no idea what Jaclyn—or the fairies—meant about getting to work, but she wasn’t going to dawdle while trying to figure it out.
***
“Here’s what I got worked out with the Kates for while I’m gone,” Joey said, handing a sheet of paper to Will. “I even got Kaitlyn to agree to a couple of shifts when she’s not cleaning at the bunkhouse.”
Will took the paper and looked it over. “This looks great, Joey. Thanks for handling it.”
“No problem. How’s Ellie?”
Will smiled and shook his head. “She still thinks she can run the universe, and she’s probably right. She just needs to stop trying until after this baby comes.”
Joey laughed. “I bet that baby already has some tiny little aquatics gear just waiting to be used. I can picture it now—little goggles, a miniature life jacket . . .”
“You’re not too far off,” Will said.
Joey said goodbye to his boss, wandered over by the pool just to make sure everything was going smoothly, and then stood there by the gate, feeling a curious sense of disconnectedness. He wasn’t really saying goodbye to it—he knew he’d be back. It was more a feeling that things wouldn’t be the same anymore after this, that something fundamental inside himself was changing. It was confusing and uncomfortable, and yet also exciting because that meant possibilities, and he always liked possibilities.
As he walked away from the pool, he glanced over in the direction of the guest cabins. He’d be leaving early in the morning, and he wanted one more chance to talk to Chelsea before he went. Maybe he’d go by after dinner. He needed to resolve these conflicting feelings he was having. He was also feeling the urge to fight . . . whatever that meant.