Charli smiled at the random question, though it had a rueful tinge. “I try not to live with regrets, Lil,” she replied. “Life is too short.”
“I have a few.” I ran my finger along the grain of the wooden counter. “But I’m learning to live with them.”
“Attagirl,” she encouraged. “And because you’re doing so well, I’ll let you decide which cake we’re going to steal.” She stepped to the side, showcasing the fridge section of the counter with a swipe of her hands.
“You’re going to get me banned again.”
“If Alex didn’t want us to eat cake, he would’ve taken them with him,” she reasoned.
There was just no arguing with that kind of logic. “Mud cake,” I decided, tapping my finger on the glass.
Momentarily dropping from view, Charli leaned into the fridge and grabbed the huge cake. “Excellent choice,” she praised, thudding it down on the counter.
I stepped off the stool. “I’ll get a knife,” I offered.
“No knife.” Her serious tone stopped me dead in my tracks. “Just get two forks.”
There wasn’t a number high enough to describe the amount of calories we consumed over the next half hour, and if I hadn’t confiscated Charli’s fork, she might’ve polished off the whole cake. “Where do you put it all?” I asked incredulously.
“Hopefully it all goes to him.” She patted her little potbelly. “And not on my hips like last time.”
I smiled at her. “You think it’s a boy?”
She shrugged. “Just a hunch.”
“A little Adam would be so freaking cute.”
“Speaking of cute,” she drawled. “I ran into Noah in town the other day. He asked about you.”
The mention of his name sent a small jolt of sorrow through me. We hadn’t spoken in days. Nancy’s routine injection appointment the week before had been exactly that – routine. There was no flirty banter and no stolen kiss at the end of it. We were over, and I felt like I’d been robbed of something precious.
“I really screwed things up.” Unable to look at it anymore, I pushed the cake carcass further away. “Noah Holt is the one regret I am having trouble living with. I hate the way it ended.”
A glint of pity flashed in her brown eyes. “Do you miss him?”
“What sort of question is that, Charlotte?”
“An important one, Lilian,” she huffed.
I didn’t try stopping her when she reached for her fork. I was too busy mulling over her question. “Yes, I miss him,” I said finally.
She violently stabbed her fork into the cake as if she as trying to kill it. “Why?”
“Charli, are you just grasping for conversation?” I glowered at her. “Because if you are, we can talk about the weather or something.”
“No, I’m serious,” she replied, picking a shard of chocolate off her fork. “I want to know.”
I spent a long moment really thinking things through. I couldn’t claim to love a man that I was just getting to know, but like wasn’t a strong enough word. I liked Noah, but I liked the chocolate cake we’d just devoured too.
Then it finally hit me, and the real reason I missed him flew out of my mouth like a shot from a gun. “I like who I am when he’s around.”
Charli leaned closer, pointing her fork at me. “And that, my friend, is exactly why you should’ve fought harder to keep it together. He might be the one who’s minding your shadow.”
Total confusion set in. “Charli, be honest,” I urged. “You gave in to the chardonnay this morning, didn’t you?”
“No.” She chuckled. “Shadow minding is a legitimate job, I promise.”
I swatted my napkin down on the table. “You’re crazy.”
“You might be right,” she agreed, leaning in close again. “But crazy people weave lovely tales, and I have a doozy for you if you’re interested.” Of course I was bloody interested. The creepy tone she’d adopted made it impossible not to be. “It's about a girl called Tayana,” she began. “She was Finnish.”
“Finished already?” I teased. “That was quick.”
“Finnish from Finland, smart-arse.” She pulled a face at me. “Tayana was beautiful, but she had a really hard life working in a restaurant that was owned by the meanest fairies in the land.”
“I didn't know fairies could be mean.”
“I'll bet you didn't know they could run restaurants either.”
I dropped my head, chuckling down at the table. “No, I guess not.”
“Anyway,” she continued, pretending to straighten the cutlery. “The ghastly fairies who worked in the kitchen were particularly cruel, and they made Tayana’s life a misery.”
“If you tell me they made her sweep hair, I'm out of here.”
She brought her mug of tea to her lips. “Worse,” she replied, taking a sip. “They beat her black and blue.”
I slumped back in my chair. “Jesus, Charli,” I grumbled. “What happened to weaving lovely words?”
She answered with a shrug of her shoulders. “The vicious fairies were intent on destroying her, and they soon figured out a way to do it using their magic.”
In the space of just a few minutes, Charli managed to blow everything I knew about fairies to smithereens. It was terrifying and fascinating all at the same time.
“Have you told Bridget this story?” I asked curiously.
“I would if I had to.”
I wondered what that meant, but didn’t dare ask. “Keep going,” I prompted.
“Well, because of a magic spell, every time they whacked her, a piece of her soul chipped away and fell to the floor.” Her tone was as dire as the story. “Before long, everything that made Tayana lovely and special was laying on the floor – courage, optimism, self-worth, creativity, strength – her entire soul.”
I was starting to feel choked up but wasn't sure why. I swallowed hard, reminding myself that it was just a silly story.
“Once they were sure they'd knocked all the pieces of goodness and light out of her, the meanest fairy of them all stepped in.”
“Please don't make it worse,” I whispered.
“Her name was Banu,” she said, ignoring me. “So while the other fairies held the poor girl down, Banu kicked all of the pieces into a pile and wrapped them up in Tayana’s shadow.”
For someone who’d grown up imagining fairies to be spritely little beings caked in glitter, the story was an education and a half. Not only were the fairies evil, but they were also proficient travellers. According to Charli, Banu took off to Poland with Tayana's shadow and chucked it in an icy river.
“Bastards,” I grumbled sourly.
“What they didn't know at the time was that someone saw them hurl it into the water – a boy – a Polish boy called Stanislaus.” She announced his name with reverence, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made it up on the spot.
“He was cute, right?” I asked hopefully. “Please make Stan cute.”
I couldn't explain why it mattered, but it did.
“I'm not making this up, Lil.” She put her hand to her heart. “But for the record, yes, he was extremely handsome.”
I actually breathed a sigh of relief. “Excellent news,” I replied. “Feel free to continue.”
“Thank you.” She dipped her head. “As soon as Banu left, Stan jumped in and rescued the shadow from the water. When he took a peek and saw what was inside, he made it his mission to find Tayana and return her missing pieces.”
“How did he know that – ”
“He just did, Lil,” she interrupted. “It’s magic. You just have to go with it.”
“Okay.” I threw both hands up in surrender. “I’m going with it.”
“Poor Tayana was lost without her pieces,” said Charli. “The cuts and bruises eventually healed so she was beautiful again on the outside, but her soul was empty – totally void of the good kind of beauty.”
“That’s so freaking sad,” I lamented.
“She
wandered the earth without purpose or joy for years.” Charli held one finger up. “But then one day, something amazing happened.”
I crossed my fingers, making her smile. “Stan found her?”
“He sure did,” she said smugly. “And as soon as he returned her shadow, Tayana became whole again – confident, happy and brave – and it was all thanks to the lovely Stan.”
For a short minute, the ending was perfect, but then Charli added a footnote.
“Banu is still at it, you know,” she said gravely. “She's everywhere. And to this day, all over the world, lovely kind-hearted boys are two steps behind her picking up the shadows of beautiful girls with missing pieces.”
It was impossible to hear a story like that and remain unaffected. I’d spent the vast majority of my life feeling inadequate, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was because I was missing a few vital pieces.
If I was in for a penny, I had to be in for a pound. I let my mind wander as I considered whether Tayana’s story applied to me. Before meeting Noah, I had zero confidence and a serious lack of self-esteem. I wasn’t exactly brimming with those traits now, but I was getting better.
Without his encouragement, I would never have broken free of Jasmine and gone out on my own. And despite the fact that Pawesome Designs had been an epic failure, I still found the courage to try because he was on the sidelines cheering me on.
“Do you think Noah might be holding my shadow?”
There was no holding the ridiculous question back, but Charli didn’t seem too perturbed by it.
She shrugged. “I don't know, Lilian.”
“Well, what do you think happens when your shadow is returned?”
Charli took another sip of tea and then turned the question back to me. “What do you think happens?”
I stared at her for a long time, deliberating. “I have no idea,” I had to admit. “But I hope it involves balloons and ribbons and puppies and champagne.” I rose to my feet and grabbed my bag. “I have to be somewhere, Charli.”
“I figured as much,” she replied, smiling. “Say hi to Noah for me.”
***
The city vet lived on a five-acre property on the north side of town, and because I was desperate to see him, it took forever to get there.
Too much thinking time is never good when you’re anticipating a frosty reception, and by the time I pulled up at the house, it took all I had not to turn around and go home.
Besides my nerves, the biggest obstacle I had to overcome before knocking on the door was Hank, who was sprawled out on the doormat.
I leaned over him and knocked but got no answer, and I could feel the icicles forming because of it.
“This is a bad idea,” I mumbled, nudging Hank with my foot.
Honey was a little more welcoming than her comatose buddy, enthusiastically wagging her tail as I stepped off the porch, but she made no attempt to follow me.
Knowing Noah had animals to tend to, I decided to venture a little bit further before calling the mission off. I kept my distance as I passed the pigpen. Two of the slovenliest hogs I’d ever seen were flat out in the dirt. Neither paid me a skerrick of attention, but they still looked shady as heck.
I passed another pen that looked empty, but when Honey came bounding over to me, I knew Noah had to be close by. Over the impromptu game of hide-and-seek, I called out his name.
“I’m over here,” came a distant reply.
At a total loss, I turned my head in every direction before looking down at the friendly Cocker Spaniel at my feet. “Honey, pretend you’re Lassie,” I told her. “Take me to your leader.”
“I think you’re confusing Lassie with an alien,” said a voice from behind.
Almost tripping on Honey, I spun around to find Noah standing right in front of me.
“She’s a smart dog.” I could feel my cheeks burning. “She would’ve figured it out.”
He dropped his head, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. “She is the smart one,” he agreed. “Hank is as dumb as a box of rocks.”
My eyes drifted to the house. Hank was still fast asleep. “Not much of a watchdog either,” I added.
Noah smiled again, but didn’t speak, which paved the way for unease.
“I went to the clinic first,” I stammered. “Susie said you’d left for the day.”
He nodded. “I wanted to check on the kids.”
“Your kids?” It was hard not to sound horrified by the notion, but I think I pulled it off.
“Sort of,” he replied. “Come and meet them if you want to.”
Considering that he was already walking away when he made the offer, I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice. I followed Noah past the pigs and down to a penned area that was shaded by a big oak tree.
A fat nanny goat was tied to the fence, and two baby kids were desperately trying to feed off her. The tiny chocolate brown goats were cuter than any human baby I’d ever seen in my lifetime.
“I’m in love,” I announced, leaning on the fence to get a closer look. “How old are they?”
“Four days,” he replied. “Cute, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t tear my eyes off them. “But why is their mum tied up?”
After all the poor mama had been through, tethering her to the fence seemed mighty cruel.
“It’s temporary,” he assured me. “She’s not taken kindly to one of the babies. I’m just trying to hold her in place so she can get a feed.”
I studied the little family’s dynamics closely, and in less than a minute, I realised what he meant. The crotchety goat only had eyes for one of her kids. When the smaller of the two tried to nurse, she butted her away.
Noah jumped the fence and tried to help her get closer, but the mama was having none of it.
“What’ll happen if she won’t let her eat?” Deep down I already knew the answer, but hearing it out loud still crushed me.
“She’d eventually starve,” he replied, wandering back toward me. “But I won’t let it get that far.”
My eyes drifted back to the goats, and a few seconds later, I witnessed the worst thing I’d ever seen in my life. When the little goat moved closer to its mother, she kicked her back legs and shunted her into the dirt.
The only thing louder than my horrified scream was the horrible pained bleating of the injured little kid. Noah ran over and snatched her up, and with Honey and me in hot pursuit, rushed her to the house.
Hank wasn’t remotely concerned by the medical emergency playing out in front of him. The lazy Lab barely opened his eyes as Noah gave him a nudge and ordered him to get out of the way of the door.
By the time he did finally move, the distraught baby kid was inconsolable. The bleating was deafening and impossibly hard to listen to. I was sobbing, unable to pull myself together enough to speak, but Noah was as calm as ever.
He grabbed a blanket off the couch as he passed, and set the little goat down on the living room floor.
“You’re alright, little girl,” he soothed, checking her over.
“She has blood on her ear,” I cried.
“Her mum gave her a bit of a nip.” He leaned, taking a closer look. “She’ll be okay.”
“Why would she do that?” I was appalled, and scared, and my voice shook because of it. “How could she be so vicious?”
“It happens, Lil,” he said casually. “We’ll just have to take care of her for a while.”
I didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby goat, and at that moment, I wasn’t sure that it would get that far. The poor little kid was shaking like a leaf and still bleating bloody murder.
I stumbled toward the door, desperate to get out of there. “I need some air.”
I pulled the door closed behind me, stepped over Hank and made my way down the front steps. If I could’ve pulled myself together enough to put the keys in the ignition, I would’ve got in my car and left. Instead, I pulled in a few steadying breaths and headed back to the goat pen. r />
The mama goat was right where we left her, tied to the fence and casually grazing as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Her other kid stood close to her side, looking as happy and content as a goat could.
I was unreasonably furious with her – so furious that I considered Googling goat curry recipes.
“What’s wrong with you?” I growled through the fence. “Why don’t you love both of your babies?”
Predictably, she didn’t answer me.
“You got it wrong, Nanny goat,” I taunted. “That kid is special, and you just gave her the boot.”
I turned my attention to the favourite goat. “And you can wipe that smug look off your face,” I told him. “You’re not such a bigshot.”
Honey suddenly appeared, brushing herself against my leg as if she was carrying out some sort of doggie welfare check. “It’s okay, Honey.” I gave her a pat. “I’m not crazy.”
At least, I didn’t think I was. Taking my frustration out on oblivious farm animals wasn’t exactly the norm, but it felt wonderful.
At that moment, the tiny reject goat was my soul sister. I knew exactly how it felt to be shunted from the fold. I also knew from firsthand experience that there was no one better to pick up her pieces than the caring, compassionate city vet.
***
When I finally pulled myself together and returned to the house, things were much calmer. The bleating had stopped, and the little goat was on the floor, sitting comfortably on the blanket beside Noah.
“Do you think she'll be okay?” I asked in a small voice.
“She should be,” he said, looking up at me. “We’ll just have to take care of her ourselves for a while.”
I wandered over to him and knelt down on the floor. “I don’t have a clue how to look after her.”
“I'll show you,” he offered.
It was a dizzying shift. An hour earlier, we were barely talking. Now we were discussing co-parenting a reject baby goat.
I reached, cautiously stroking my hand across her dark brown fur. “I came here to talk.” I glanced at him. “I wanted to apologise.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Lil.”
I believed he meant it, but he was wrong.