River’s Tavern, previously known as Foxwood’s Tavern, isn’t anything to look at from the outside. It’s built from roughhewn logs and mud with a moss roof and a sign that desperately needs a coat of paint. I used to come here all the time as a kid. It’s on the outskirts of Dragonfly Hollow, technically part of the theme park but not a location frequented by humans. That’s because the human menu is vegan. The food is delicious, but there just aren’t a ton of parkgoers clamoring to the farthest corner of Wonderland for a portabella mushroom burger or bee pollen wrap with sprouts. Which means it’s the preferred place for “characters” to hang out—someplace they can be themselves.
The fae menu is far less limited than the human one, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into Foxwood’s famous burger. I’m curious if the menu has changed now that River runs the place. I’m drowning in memories as I pull open the heavy wooden door. But my nostalgia is soon tempered by apprehension when I experience a prickly reception.
All conversation stops and dozens of fairy eyes stare in our direction. At first brows lift when they see me, but it’s when their gazes lock onto Arden that the whispers start. My parents told me they’d kept my pregnancy a secret. This is the first time most of these people are learning I have a daughter. Well, well, well, back one day and already making an impression.
My father loops his arm into Arden’s. “Come help me find a table.”
I’m about to follow after them when a voice to my left calls out, “Sophia?”
I glance down at a face I haven’t seen in over a decade but that I recognize instantly. “Penelope?”
Penelope Hawthorne has aged well. Her hair is still the color of snow, her skin as smooth and fair as the last time I saw her in the sleigh behind me at the Yule Ball. She’s not quite as put together today. She’s wearing leggings and a long sweater. There are shadows under her eyes.
She rises and pulls me into a firm hug. It’s a strange gesture considering we haven’t spoken in sixteen years. We were friends once, and my heart gives a little squeeze thinking about those days. My life outside Dragonfly was necessarily lonely, constantly burdened with the fear of getting caught, and I’m sad our friendship was a victim of that fear. I wouldn’t blame her for keeping her distance, but she’s hanging on like we saw each other yesterday.
Slowly my arms rise, and I hug her back. In a sea of unfriendly stares, her offered kindness is a lifeline. Only when she releases me do I see Flick and two small pixies at the same table. Both children have her nose and Flick’s eyes. My heart warms. They’ve stayed together all these years. “You have kids!”
“Oh, you remember Flick, and this is Caramel and Witsy.” She points at the two kids.
I smile and greet them all, then start to excuse myself to join my family, but she grabs me by the elbow.
“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” she blurts guiltily. Behind her, Flick slaps his forehead as if he can’t believe she’s said what she’s said.
“What are we talking about?” I ask, totally confused.
Tears fill her eyes. “Did you leave Dragonfly because of what I said to you before the Yule Ball?”
I balk. “No!” It’s clear that this answer isn’t as common sense to her as it is to me.
“It’s just… It’s just…” Her tears are flowing now, and I pat her awkwardly on the back because I have no idea what else to do. “I told you Seven wasn’t coming, but I didn’t mean for it to happen like it did. And then… And then a few weeks later you were gone!” She clutches her chest. Behind her Flick is rubbing his head like it aches.
I give her another hug, then give a little shake. “Penelope… Penelope, listen to me.”
She sniffs, her wings hanging limp from her back.
“My leaving had nothing to do with you. You were right about Seven. I should have listened to you. I left for other reasons.”
She wipes under her eyes. Her eyes dart in the direction my father took Arden. “Do you have a daughter?” she whispers.
I shrug. “I do. And I don’t think you have to whisper. It’s not a secret. If there is anyone left in Dragonfly who hasn’t heard I’ve returned with a daughter, I’m pretty sure they will know by the end of the day.” I gesture toward the crowd of patrons openly staring at me.
For the first time, Penelope notices all the gawking faces around us and her jaw drops in outrage. Pivoting in my arms, she flips them all the bird with both hands and in a voice I’d never expect her petite body to be capable of yells, “Oh, fuck all the way off, you nosy bastards. Go back to your meals!”
To my surprise, many of the fairies do. I turn wide eyes toward Flick, who’s trying his best to cover the ears of their children. “She’s a bit emotional right now,” he says to me. “We have a third on the vine.” He tips his head toward the kids.
Penelope lowers her fingers and turns a smile back in my direction. “Do you want to have lunch sometime?”
“Um, sure.”
“Great! I work at the bank. Stop in whenever you get settled.” She hugs me again, almost violently, and sinks back into her chair.
My heart warms at the thought. I didn’t expect her to welcome me back with open arms, but I’ll take it. I plod past the whispering crowd to the table my father nabbed in the back and sink into an open chair beside Arden.
“What’s a raindrop?” she asks me, not looking up from her menu. Apparently, the little drama that just happened behind her wasn’t enough to distract her from the promise of food.
“Dessert. It’s fruity, like raspberry Jell-O, but more of a foam that dissolves on your tongue,” I explain. “You should definitely get one.”
“What about the forest barbecue?” she asks next. “Will I like it?”
