Night.
Oh, yes, Fenella thought. It had all worked out fabulously
for plucky, lucky Lady Janet.
“Fenella?” It was Leo again. “Of course we’ll stop. I’m
sorry. Lucy and I thought we could give the old music its
place back in our lives. We used to love the Child ballads
and we thought maybe we could reclaim this one at least.
Let the music wash through us and heal us. But we won’t
try, not if it hurts too much.”
Lucy leaned forward. “Fenella, do you realize? ‘Tam Lin’
is so different from ‘Scarborough Fair.’ Janet outsmarts the
faeries.”
“Like you did?” Fenella snarled.
There was a moment of shocked silence. “I didn’t mean—”
Lucy began.
Fenella cut in. “I know. I’m sorry.”
More silence.
“All right,” said Lucy finally.
“Maybe another time,” Soledad said. “With another song.
A different ballad.”
“Maybe,” said Lucy.
“Or not,” said Leo. Fenella felt him trying to catch her
eye, but she didn’t want to look at him. Tension continued
to fill the air.
Then Ryland, on the floor near Fenella, made a terrible
noise. The noise went on and on, drawing all eyes, until it
transformed into hacking, and Ryland deposited a small
hairball on the carpet.
“That’s my signal,” Fenella said. She picked up the hairball and regarded it dubiously. “Ick. I’m going to bed now.”
She escaped, throwing the hairball into the trash as she left.
The next day, Fenella declined to go with Miranda and
Dawn on their daily stroll. The moment the door shut and they
were alone, Ryland came into the living room and nudged her
ankles.
About last night, he said. What’s your exact problem with
that song, “Tam Lin”?
“It’s nothing,” Fenella said. “What does it matter, anyway?
It’s only music. I have other things to think about, more important things, and you know it.”
As the words left her lips, Fenella realized that she was no
longer alone with the cat. She looked up.
“Sorry.” Walker Dobrez was in the archway of the living
room, inside the front door, looking at her.
120
Chapter 14
“Is it okay
that I just showed up?” Walker held a dog
leash in one hand, but there was no dog on it. He was bigger
than Fenella remembered. He wore jeans and a dark green
T-shirt with long sleeves pushed up to reveal strong brown
forearms. His long hair was gathered back neatly into a
horse’s tail.
The cat muttered something.
“Hello.” Fenella felt her cheeks burn. How much had he
heard?
Walker’s gaze was intent on Fenella, and curious too,
and also . . . well. He had that look in his eyes, the one
that said he found Fenella attractive. Then the look disappeared, and Fenella was conscious that she hadn’t paid
much attention when she got dressed this morning. She
had pulled on a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a tight,
faded, rose-colored T-shirt that she had received from
Lucy. The T-shirt said, Don’t let the pigeon drive the bus,
advice that Fenella felt was sound. The modern clothing
was soft and she liked how it felt on her body. She was
even beginning to understand the appeal of pants for girls.
But she probably did not look pretty. She curled her bare
toes self-consciously on the floor. She also realized that she
had not put on her new female harness. She had been told
that women should not be seen in public without one on
beneath their clothes. A bra, it was called, and it was considered both modest and practical to wear one.
Why did this family run the kind of house where people
felt free to wander in without knocking? It was not right!
Walker made no mention of the conversation he had
probably heard Fenella having with the cat, and he ignored
Fenella’s scowl too. “I brought Pierre home. He’s in the
backyard.”
Ryland jumped down from the chair arm and stood next
to Fenella, his tail low, his fur on end. No!
Fenella sighed. Ryland was right; the dog absolutely couldn’t
return. “Nobody told me Pierre was coming back
Oh, yes, Fenella thought. It had all worked out fabulously
for plucky, lucky Lady Janet.
“Fenella?” It was Leo again. “Of course we’ll stop. I’m
sorry. Lucy and I thought we could give the old music its
place back in our lives. We used to love the Child ballads
and we thought maybe we could reclaim this one at least.
Let the music wash through us and heal us. But we won’t
try, not if it hurts too much.”
Lucy leaned forward. “Fenella, do you realize? ‘Tam Lin’
is so different from ‘Scarborough Fair.’ Janet outsmarts the
faeries.”
“Like you did?” Fenella snarled.
There was a moment of shocked silence. “I didn’t mean—”
Lucy began.
Fenella cut in. “I know. I’m sorry.”
More silence.
“All right,” said Lucy finally.
“Maybe another time,” Soledad said. “With another song.
A different ballad.”
“Maybe,” said Lucy.
“Or not,” said Leo. Fenella felt him trying to catch her
eye, but she didn’t want to look at him. Tension continued
to fill the air.
Then Ryland, on the floor near Fenella, made a terrible
noise. The noise went on and on, drawing all eyes, until it
transformed into hacking, and Ryland deposited a small
hairball on the carpet.
“That’s my signal,” Fenella said. She picked up the hairball and regarded it dubiously. “Ick. I’m going to bed now.”
She escaped, throwing the hairball into the trash as she left.
The next day, Fenella declined to go with Miranda and
Dawn on their daily stroll. The moment the door shut and they
were alone, Ryland came into the living room and nudged her
ankles.
About last night, he said. What’s your exact problem with
that song, “Tam Lin”?
“It’s nothing,” Fenella said. “What does it matter, anyway?
It’s only music. I have other things to think about, more important things, and you know it.”
As the words left her lips, Fenella realized that she was no
longer alone with the cat. She looked up.
“Sorry.” Walker Dobrez was in the archway of the living
room, inside the front door, looking at her.
120
Chapter 14
“Is it okay
that I just showed up?” Walker held a dog
leash in one hand, but there was no dog on it. He was bigger
than Fenella remembered. He wore jeans and a dark green
T-shirt with long sleeves pushed up to reveal strong brown
forearms. His long hair was gathered back neatly into a
horse’s tail.
The cat muttered something.
“Hello.” Fenella felt her cheeks burn. How much had he
heard?
Walker’s gaze was intent on Fenella, and curious too,
and also . . . well. He had that look in his eyes, the one
that said he found Fenella attractive. Then the look disappeared, and Fenella was conscious that she hadn’t paid
much attention when she got dressed this morning. She
had pulled on a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a tight,
faded, rose-colored T-shirt that she had received from
Lucy. The T-shirt said, Don’t let the pigeon drive the bus,
advice that Fenella felt was sound. The modern clothing
was soft and she liked how it felt on her body. She was
even beginning to understand the appeal of pants for girls.
But she probably did not look pretty. She curled her bare
toes self-consciously on the floor. She also realized that she
had not put on her new female harness. She had been told
that women should not be seen in public without one on
beneath their clothes. A bra, it was called, and it was considered both modest and practical to wear one.
Why did this family run the kind of house where people
felt free to wander in without knocking? It was not right!
Walker made no mention of the conversation he had
probably heard Fenella having with the cat, and he ignored
Fenella’s scowl too. “I brought Pierre home. He’s in the
backyard.”
Ryland jumped down from the chair arm and stood next
to Fenella, his tail low, his fur on end. No!
Fenella sighed. Ryland was right; the dog absolutely couldn’t
return. “Nobody told me Pierre was coming back
Similar Books
