Willow
Miss Amy looks perfect sitting on top of my tall boy. Paisley teased me a lot, but I could tell that she actually understood how much finding the doll meant to me.
I've always had this fantasy of finding her and reuniting her with her sister, Miss Molly. Silly, I know, but it probably has to do with the whole broken family thing I was going through at the time. I missed my father, Aunt Beth and my grandparents. Through the years, I tried to forget them and almost succeeded, but these last two weeks, I've been bombarded with memories I thought I'd lost.
Pulling open the drawer containing all my sentimental and important items, I retrieve the bundle wrapped in a scarf I stashed in there when I unpacked my possessions last week Monday. I almost threw her away so many times, thinking I'd just keep the dress, but I simply couldn't do it.
Unwrapping the scarf, I gaze at the broken doll face and the smashed hands. After my uncle broke her, I picked up all the pieces I could get my hands on, but she was simply too mangled to put back together. The sadness I always experience looking at Miss Molly's remains is now mingled with hope and a little excitement.
"I'll soon have the two of you sitting up there safe and sound," I promise the dolls.
Little-Piddle's sharp bark startles me out of my fantasies, and looking down at his eagerly wagging tail and lolling tongue, I realise that when I start talking to my dolls, it's probably time for some fresh air.
Rewrapping Miss Molly (I'll take her to Miss Phoebe's as soon as I can), I replace her in the drawer and, frowning, I pull a folded piece of paper free from where it got mixed in with my other dolls. Unfolding it, I giggle when I realise what it is.
Yesterday, when I got bored with lying around, all achy and miserable, I decided to take my mission of making Hunter fall in love with me and staying in Briar Cove a little more seriously. I searched the internet for advice on how to make the man of your dreams love you back and came across a very interesting recipe, which I immediately printed (my laptop is wirelessly connected to the printer in the study) for definite future use.
I read the recipe again now, shaking my head and laughing. Well, I was under the influence of strong painkillers at the time, but still, I do find the world of Harry Potter to be filled with good advice.
Amortentia Potion
Ingredients:
- Twelve (12) Dried Rose Petals
- Lionfish Spine
- Two (2) grams of powdered Nettle.
- Three (3) cups of Lethe River Water
- One (1) Fairy Wing
- Four (4) Rose Thorns
- Seven (7) grams of powdered Moonstone
Method:
Combine Lethe River water and Lionfish spine and bring to a boil, stirring clockwise, until the spine has completely dissolved; the water should be pale pink.
Once the Lionfish spine has completely dissolved add six (6) of the twelve (12) dried rose petals, stir counterclockwise five times, then allow to simmer for five (5) minutes.
The potion should turn a light violet at this point, then add the two (2) grams of powdered nettle and stir clockwise for four (4) minutes, adding one (1) rose thorn each minute.
After you have stirred for four (4) minutes, add the fairy wing and decrease the heat until it is hardly simmering. Allow it to sit for five (5) minutes.
Once five (5) minutes have passed, remove the cauldron from the fire and add the seven (7) grams of powdered moonstone, stirring thirty-two (32) times counterclockwise.
The potion should have a mother-of-pearl sheen and spirals of steam rising from it. Must be stored in a dry place. (https://potionsandingredients.weebly.com/amortentia.html)
How wonderful! Seems simple enough and should only take roughly 30 minutes to make! It will be so easy to feed it to Hunter; I simply have to mix it with ice cream. Lovely! I can hardly wait. There's only one problem with this... where do I find a cauldron? Miss Phoebe's, perhaps?
I laugh, dropping the paper back in my drawer. It's always good to keep mementoes from periods when one has lost their mind.
I do want Hunter to love me back, but I'll settle for it happening naturally, and if it never does, I'll just keep on loving him anyway. I want to at least be his best friend in the whole world. I want to really be there for him, listen to him, comfort him, and play console games with him. I have a lot of competition for that position, though, and when he falls in love with someone else... I'll probably return to the ocean and become seafoam...
"Come on, Piddles," I scoff. "Take me for a walk; my brain is growing mould."
♫
Ryan
Every fibre in my being wanted to jump in my car and rush over to the Davenports' place this morning. I hated leaving the hospital last night and only did so because Jake was right; Tan would be upset if he woke up and discovered Dev and me there. He hates worrying us and was already having a hard time accepting that we got involved in the whole laptop drama.
When I called this morning, Jake advised me not to rush over but to give Tan time to mull it over a bit more. He sent a message later telling me that all his friends were there trying to cheer him up and get him to talk about it. It was doing some good, but Tan was skittish and freaked out. He's right; adding me and Dev to the mix might be too much for the guy to handle. He is already on the verge of running away.
I understand his point, but that doesn't mean that I like it.
I was happy that Hunter and the other boys were all there (even Galen); they were probably the only people he really needed around him. They are like a pack, converging around their own in times of injury or danger. I figured I would just hound Hunter for feedback, which is what I'm trying to do now, but the guy is being very vague.
It could be that he simply doesn't know much more than what he's already told me. I know how tight-lipped Tanner can be when he is going through hell. Normally, I would take this accident more in my stride and just feel a bit more than the usual level of concern. Tanner often gets hurt. He can be extremely reckless with his safety, but this wasn't just an accident, and it is driving me out of my mind.
I spoke to Job, and he assured me that Tanner is in no imminent danger, but how can he be so sure? We didn't know that he was in danger on Friday, and yet, here we are. Tanner got beaten up by thugs. I've had my hands full with Beth all day; she is climbing the walls, longing to hurry over there. She's told me more than once that men are all idiots, and she doesn't care how skittish Tanner is; if she had to, she would tie him up so she can hold him, comfort him, and nurse him back to health.
She would do it too...
For the record, I agree with her... mostly... If I thought that I could hold it together, I would be over there right now. In my current state of mind, I would probably make it worse.
Last night, before Tan's accident, Job told me that Mason was murdered.
All of this has me on edge. I want the boy to move in here where we can keep him safe, but asking him to do that might just freak him out more. I need to handle this carefully, or he really will just disappear. He's done it before. It took Job and his men over a week to find him, and he was only 14 at the time.
My recurring dream of buying a small farm and building a multitude of small houses on it and just starting a friggin' town where we can all live together safely and happily is nagging stronger than ever, and I don't agree with Beth that we already all live together in the same town. I'm becoming more and more paranoid and protective as the kids grow older.
I thought those kinds of emotions would lessen as they become adults, but I want to keep them under my wing more than ever before. Dev calls me a goose, but I think the term he's looking for is eagle. He doesn't agree...
"Hunter, you'll tell me if there's something I need to know, right?"
We're bowed over the workbench at the back of the garage, and Hunter is helping me reassemble sections of the Corolla's engine with the parts I'm replacing. The work is coming along nicely, mainly because, for once, he is not being a pest.
I hate that.
I used the workshop at the office to remodel a few things and fix what was broken but fixable. The rest I systematically bought. There's still a lot of work to be done, but I think I can have the car running by the end of next week. It needed some TLC but wasn't in quite as bad a condition as I thought it was.
"Of course, Dad... Tan's coming tomorrow; you should just grill him then."
This is a tricky situation, and I'm not being fair to my son by putting him in the middle like this. He is clearly torn between betraying Tanner's trust and his loyalty to me. I do know that if Tan really needed my help with something and I could actually provide that help, Hunter would not hesitate to break any promise he made his friend about not sharing information.
If he's not telling me everything he knows, it's most likely because there's nothing that I can do, or he doesn't know anything more than I do. He still doesn't look happy, though, but he's right; I should speak to Tanner myself.
"He's in one piece; his wounds aren't severe. I gave the bike a once-over, and except for the tyres and rearview mirror, the damage is mostly cosmetic. There are no engine issues," Hunter tells me, and I guess that's all I need to know right now.
What worries me is Tan's mental state, but I doubt that Hunter knows much about that except that Tanner is feeling off and acting a bit weird, which is what he told me at the start.
I straighten up, drop the wrench I was using and stretch, shoving my fists into my lower back. I've been in a slightly bent-over position for too long. I can really feel my age right now. Hunter sees me straining and positions himself behind me to massage my stiff muscles while I brace myself against the bench, using my hands.
"Want me to walk on your back a bit?" he asks, and I chuckle.
"No thanks, Buddy. Last time you did that, I almost died."
"I've got the right technique now."
"So, I'll actually die this time?" I snort. "This is good, though; keep going."
"I really need a massage too, after the morning I've had."
I know he means Galen, and I've already told him that I'm proud of him for swallowing any animosity he might feel towards the boy and just being resting enemies for Tan's sake, even if it's just for one day.
"Was it really that bad to hang out with Gan for a change without resorting to violence?"
"No," he says, and I can hear that there is more. I wait for him to get his words together. "Dad, did you know that Galen was also involved with that whole horrible mess with Mayor Winkler's wife?"
I stiffen involuntarily. Any mention of that episode still gets to me.
"Yes... why?"
"Nothing, just wish I'd known too..."
"You didn't?" For some reason, I always assumed that he did know since he and Dex were becoming very close back then.
"No," I can hear the regret in that one word, and I remember the period back then being an exceptionally volatile one for Hunter and Galen. It surprised me because Hunter has a huge capacity for compassion, and I couldn't understand why he had virtually none for Galen. I get it now. I didn't talk to Hunter about the whole situation much back then. He was just a kid, and I figured that knowing the bare bones and how to avoid becoming a victim himself were enough.
"I'm sorry, Bud. I also wish you did."
We don't speak for a while, and I can feel the knots in my muscles slowly release under Hunter's care. The guy knows his stuff; Dev taught him well.
"I've got one for you, Dad. Wanna hear it?"
"Is snow cold?"
"Probably, but I've never actually touched any... If you'd take me skiing once, as I've been nagging since I was ten, I would be able to answer you... or was that just the start of one of your science jokes again?"
"Just tell yours, Buddy," I sigh, chuckling softly. I know he knew what I meant. Hunter always vocally protests against my Dad Jokes, but whenever he sees or hears one, he brings it to me to add to my arsenal to frustrate Beth with, and these days, Becca too. I was happy to discover that Willow loves Dad Jokes almost as much as I do.
"What did the Admiral say to his men before they got on the tank?" He gives a dramatic pause. "Get on the tank, Men."
"Hunter," I chortle. "Maybe you should just walk on my back instead."
♫
Ronja
"Ronja, please come down here for a minute!"
Ugh! I do not want to go down there a minute. Whenever my father's wife calls me, it is always to complain about something or manipulate me into doing her chores or generally just nag at me.
Ignoring her never helps; she is now shouting from bottom of stairs, but she'll just come up here if I don't go down, so I push myself off my bed where I was watching my favourite Physics channel on laptop and leave my room to go hear what Courtney wants now.
She didn't sound shrill like she always does, but I'm still surprised to see Willow standing in the gilded foyer, clutching a feather duster with eyes in her arms.
"Hej!" I say, hurrying down the last few steps to join her.
"Hello, Ronja," Willow greets me back, and I see that her feather duster has tongue too. He uses it to lick my hand when I touch his little head. I'm cooing over doggie I met on Thursday, but then I'd been too upset to really see how cute he was. I can see Courtney watching me, waiting for explanation. Maybe she also thinks it's feather duster.
"Willow, this is my father's wife," I do introduction, but I do not want to introduce Willow to my father's woman. "Father's wife, this is Willow."
"Dear me, Ronja, you don't say it like that. Please excuse her, Willow; she sometimes struggles with English constructs. I'm Ronja's mother, Courtney."
I grind my teeth, hearing her call herself my mother, but I keep my eyes on Willow's face, pretending that I did not hear it.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs Arvidsson," Willow says, and her smile tells me that she knows that I was not making English construct mistake. I meant to say it like that. "I am taking my dog for a walk in the park, I would truly appreciate it if Ronja could accompany me if that meets your approval?"
I honestly think that Willow might be evil. She sounds much more uppity than usual and is using the perfect words to make Courtney think that she is in the presence of royalty. Courtney loves royalty.
"Yes, of course," she says without hesitation, and I almost laugh. "Please be home in time to cook dinner," she adds hastily, and then I'm outside in the fading sunlight, smelling freedom and pine trees.
"I'm surprised that she let you go that easily. I thought you said she's awfully strict."
"You said magic words," I tell Willow. "And you are female, not likely to impregnate me."
"What?!" Willow chokes.
"My sister got pregnant and left home. They are extra strict with me. Courtney was especially willing to let you take me because you sounded like... what is word? Snot?"
"What?" Willow says again, but this time, she is laughing.
"No?" I put my nose in the air, pretending to be full of myself and she giggles, lightly slapping my arm.
"Snooty? A snob?"
"Yes! Courtney likes important people... or people who think they are important."
Willow shrugs. "Sadly, I didn't have to try very hard. You know I'm not one, though, don't you?"
I smile at her, nodding my head. I only thought Willow was snob first three seconds after meeting her. She is very kind person. The first one in Briar Cove I liked.
"I like your dog," I say, watching her put the strange-looking animal down when we've crossed the street and entered the park.
"Thanks, he is a cutie."
We walk for a while, talking about the school day Willow missed and I ask her how she's feeling and am glad when she says that she is mostly fine now.
"Are you going to the bonfire?" she asks, looking disappointed when I shake my head no.
"There will be boys. Papa is already stressed about having to send me to school with boys in it; he will lose his brain if I went to functions with boys."
"Oh," Willow says, looking sad. "Then they probably won't let you come to our house for lunch tomorrow. Aunt Beth told me to invite you, and I would be very happy if you could come."
"Hunter lives there," I say, smiling. I am very happy to be invited for lunch. I have not been invited to anybody's home since moving here, and I don't want people coming to the cold place I live in. "They do not have to know that you have big, beautiful boyfriend that lives with you. I'll just say I go to your home. Courtney met you, she knows you're girl, and you sound like Queen of England, so..."
"Hunter is not my boyfriend," Willow says, blushing, and I can see that she likes idea of him being her boyfriend. I think he likes idea too. Some people are stupid and slow when it comes to love. They are funny, not knowing how much they like each other.
"I think you mean not yet; your English might be bad too," I say, making Willow laugh.
"Oh, dear!" she says, frowning. "There will be many boys there, Ronja! Your father will really lose his mind... brain!"
I laugh, happy to hear that.
"What boys?" I ask, looking forward to lunch even more now.
"Some of the boys you met under the trees at school. Dex, Asher, Tanner and Jake... Tanner usually cooks for us, but he might not tomorrow; he fell with his motorcycle last night and has a long cut on his right arm, so-"
"He got hurt? He fell? Why?!" I do not like hearing that! Hearing those words is making my throat close up. Suddenly, I cannot breathe.
"Why?" she doesn't understand my question or my fear. "His tyres burst. He is hurt, but not too badly. He'll be at the bonfire tonight. Perhaps we could find a way for you to go after all and-"
"No," I say, looking around me, no longer comfortable being out in the open like this. "I have been afraid since Monday; I probably wouldn't have gone to bonfire even if I could go."
I tell myself that Tanner just had accident and that I don't have to feel so scared, but it is not helping. "I am glad that he is okay. He is good person." I am starting to feel sick.
"Are you alright, Ronja?" Willow asks, placing her hand on my arm. "I am sorry that you're scared. Maybe it will help if you spoke to Uncle Ryan or the Police Chief..."
"Oi, I am alright," I say, looking at her dog sniffing the closest bushes. "I want to go to your lunch tomorrow. Thank you."
♫
Becca
Beth video-called me, and I am now happily sitting in the arms of a doll on Willow's tallboy, helping her decide what to wear to her very first Briar Cove school function.
I'm touched and grateful that they decided to include me in this historical event, and though I truly enjoy catching up with my father, I suddenly wish I could be home now.
Well, I suppose I am, at least virtually.
I watch Willow try on different combinations of slacks and tops, giving my input and generally just laughing at Beth's. The woman is insane. We are having a blast. Willow's cheeks are flushed with excitement, but I know her well enough to know she is probably nervous about this.
Hunter will be with her; she'll be fine.
"Beth! You are not going to make my daughter wear her bra over her top, no matter how pretty it is! She's not Madonna!" I exclaim, and if I were over there, I know the two of us would've been wrestling on the bed by now.
"Your mother is so old-fashioned," Beth says, pulling a face and putting down the lacy underwear.
"Uhm... you're the one stuck in the 80s..." I point out.
Willow giggles at our banter and suddenly bends over, tossing her hair and shaking her head. She'd untied it and loosened the braids. When she stands up straight again, it is falling freely over her shoulders in a glorious golden cascade of braid-induced waves. She is beautiful, and not just because she's wearing a pretty, finely knitted, floral v-neck jersey and perfectly fitted dark grey jeans, showing off her lovely figure.
I've never seen her looking like this before.
Willow always wears her hair tied up. It used to be French roles, and lately, it's been French braids. Seems she's leaving France behind now, giving her hair some freedom.
She has also never owned jeans before. I vaguely remember her fitting pants and tops last Saturday when Beth bought these things, but I didn't really get to see the full effect. She looks like a gorgeous, vibrant young woman, and suddenly, I'm scared again.
I swallow against the lump forming in my throat, hoping that the camera is helping to hide my true emotions.
"You look wonderful, Sweet Pea," I tell her, and she turns to look at me, beaming proudly.
"Do you think so?"
"Absolutely!"
"You're gorgeous, Love," Beth agrees, looking as emotional as I am feeling.
I spend some more time on the line chatting to my girls, listening to Beth's advice on how to navigate the social intricacies of the school bonfire. It is a very old tradition. I still remember our bonfires, which is causing most of my misgivings about letting Willow go tonight.
Willow is not me. She has proven herself to be of much better moral fibre than her mother.
I, on the other hand, have slipped into the habit of spending my nights chatting to a man I profess to loathe but lately cannot stop thinking about. I am looking forward to our first date tomorrow night, but I'm also terrified of it. I'm starting to enjoy bantering and talking to Devan Taylor every night after I've gone to bed.
If we go on this date and realise that there's nothing there aside from horribly strong physical attraction, it will be over, and I do not want it to be over. I miss the strength in his arms and the way he makes me feel so safe when he's holding me.
I also miss the sound of his voice and all the annoying things he always says. He has also been oddly supportive these last couple of days. He really helped me cope with reuniting with my father, opening old wounds and letting out suppressed grief.
Talking via typed messages or over the phone is just not the same as being with each other.
"I miss you, Mommy. I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow," Willow tells me, snapping me out of my musings.
"Miss you too, Sweet Pea."
♫
Hunter
I think I'm gonna be sick!
I'm standing in the living area, looking at Missy coming from her bedroom with Ma, but the girl I'm seeing is not her at all. She has her face, her smile and her mysterious eyes, but that is about it.
Willow is supposed to look virginal and pure, like Little Miss Muffet on her way to Sunday school, all sunshine and ribbons, pink lace and flowers. She's not supposed to look sensual and beautiful and so friggin' sexy. Yes, her top has flowers in various hues of violet, but it fits snuggly, making me overly aware of her contours. It is not a raunchy sweater by any standard; it is, in fact, pretty decent. It's just my mind that keeps on going to all the places where I would love to travel but know I shouldn't.
I can hardly look at her right now. My heart cannot stand it.
What am I going to do?! This girl is killing me! One minute, she's an innocent kitten, snuggling in my arms, looking for warmth and safety and the next she is standing in front of me with hair screaming to be touched and curves designed to drive me insane.
Is she doing this on purpose? Does she know how she's making me feel? I'm about to fall to my knees and beg for mercy!
"Will this be alright?" she asks, suddenly looking highly unsure of herself, and I realise that I must be glaring or something, making her think that she's doing something wrong or doesn't look right.
"That will be more than just alright, Missy," I smile. I want to encourage her, but I also want to go lock her in a closet... for safe keeping... My closet... "Wow," Is all I can manage, and then I just smile like an idiot until I finally manage to spin on my heel and wipe my mouth to make sure that I'm not drooling. "If you're ready, we can go."
I don't want to go to the stupid bonfire!
Yeah, I usually like going, hanging out with friends, and having a blast, but I'm on the student council this year - I have no idea how that happened – which halves my fun. I want to stay home and eat more ice cream with Willow. I don't want her going out looking the way she's looking right now.
There are dogs out there!
Most of the guys I go to school with are dogs! Hell, I'm the biggest dog of them all! I should actually not be allowed within five meters of Willow. I'm finding it hard to breathe when I look at her. She is so friggin' lovely, and she seems to be wholly unaware of it. Reaching the front door, I turn around to see if she is with me and once again, I have to subdue a very strong urge to carry her to my room.
She is cuddling Frankie, saying good night, and it is the sweetest scene I've ever seen. She is always so gentle and loving with the little guy, and I can see how much he adores her. I'm really going to be sick now. I swallow convulsively and almost jump out of my skin when I realise that my dad is standing on the bottom step of the stairs leading to the upper floor, watching me with narrowed eyes.
I smile, but it probably looks like a grimace, but... well... can't help that.
"See you, Dad," I say, startled when he leaves the stairs and pulls me into a bear hug.
"It's okay, Buddy," he says. Finally releasing me, he brushes a hand over my head, letting it rest on the back of my neck for a few seconds while he looks into my eyes. I think he is reading my mind, which is not a good thing right now, but apparently, he doesn't think I should be caged. Instead, he smiles, nodding his head. "It's all good."
What the hell is he on about? None of this is good!
"You guys have fun," he says, hugging Willow too and kissing the top of her head, before he takes Frankie from her arms.
"Thank you, Uncle Ryan."
"Thanks," I croak, opening the door and waiting for Willow to step outside.
I want to get this bonfire over and done with as soon as possible so that I can come home and lock myself in my closet!
♪♫♪
Note:- Thank you, Jeandré, for kindly helping Willow find a recipe to help her in her important mission.