No.
It wasn’t possible.
I honored Miss Windsong’s efforts, but no matter how charming the girl was, there was no way it could be done. My answer was no. And when Miss Windsong returned, I would tell her that. Because, certainly, she would return to exchange barbs with me once more. She was headstrong and determined. I could see it in her eyes.
I alighted once more on the roof of the library. My stomach growled again. I reached into my coat pocket, pulling out the hunk of bread I had wrapped up and stored there. I took a bite, chewing the now-stale piece. It was still edible…just. Tomorrow, I would try to remember to buy something to eat.
Tomorrow…
Surely, Miss Windsong would be back tomorrow.
She was not one to lose a battle so easily. No doubt, she would come to spar with me again. I smiled when I thought of it, the angry glimmer in her eye, her reddened cheeks, the way her quick breath made her chest rise and fall.
There would be no party, but she was wrong about me. I was not some angry brute who went about insulting elders. I had apologized. It was below me to be rude.
But there would be no party.
And that was the end of that.
No matter how charming Miss Windsong could be.
CHAPTER 7
PRIMROSE
Cousin Annie Beth’s annual summer fancy overalls party was one of the highlights of the year. Everyone from my mother’s extended family, longtime residents of Moonshine Hollow, would make their way to the farm at the edge of town where all manner of delights were waiting.
The front yard had been turned into a proverbial carnival. Golden lanterns were strung between poles, picnic tables with red-and-white gingham tablecloths were laden with food and waited for hungry visitors. Canning jars filled with wildflowers graced every table, and hay bales had been set out for seats.
Children ran in circles playing games and calling out to one another, tossing multicolored balls of glowing light back and forth in a game called rainbow run, with some of the teenage cousins playing the role of gamemaster.
A family band sat in one corner playing folksongs, and several people were already dancing in the center square. Someone had cast an enchantment that allowed the music to carry to all corners of the party. Great for festive fun, terrible if you did not like the twang of a banjo.
Not only was the family in attendance, but so were the residents of the local farms all around the outskirts of the hollow.
And everyone was dressed in the fanciest overalls the world had ever seen. From overalls painted in homage of peacocks, another like a fairy dragon, one even designed as the Moonshine Hollow tree, everyone had on their fanciest and festive attire.
“Flo, Flo, Flo,” Cousin Annie Beth called, her arms outstretched as she rushed toward my mother. “Oh, my cousin, how wonderful to see you! And look at you. Bloomberry perfection!” Cousin Annie Beth embraced my mother, kissing her on both cheeks, then stepped back to look at my father and me. “You’ve brought the whole garden. Welcome, Pumpkin Linden,” she greeted my father and then turned to me. “And Strawberry Primrose.”
“And you’re a unicorn,” I said with a grin, eyeing her sparkly pink overalls adorned with colorful ribbons.
“I am! Do you like it?”
“I do.”
Cousin Annie Beth took my arm and turned me toward the party. “How is it, Primrose? Did I do okay?”
I smiled at her. “Everything looks wonderful.”
“Do I need any other enchantments? You’ll tell me, won’t you? Do people look bored?”
“It’s perfect. No magic required.”
“You don’t need Primrose’s advice, Cousin,” my mother said with a wave of her hand. “You always host a wonderful party. You don’t need simple charms for that. Now, I have my famous carrot mint mincemeat crème pie. Where should I put it?” my mother asked, gesturing to the pie my father carried.
“Ah,” Cousin Annie Beth said, eyeing the pie suspiciously. She forced a smile so fake I was amazed my mother couldn’t see it. “Carrot mint mincemeat crème?”
“My latest!” my mother said proudly.
