Juniper Wiles, page 12
She pulls out the little sketchbook she’s always got stuck in one pocket or another, and hands it to Carla.
“Write out your contact info for me,” she says, “and I’ll give you a call next week.”
If those girls were beaming before, now they’re positively glowing.
This is one of the reasons I love Jilly so much. If she thinks someone is genuinely serious about their art, she’s super generous with her time. Here, over at the Memorial Court, pretty much anywhere. She loves people anyway, but she really loves to nurture young artists. In the couple of weeks after every festival there’s always a handful of visitors to the studio, earnest young artists, greedy to learn. They come barely able to speak or contain their excitement. Jilly immediately puts them at ease, drawing out the best of what they carry inside, and they all leave with a better understanding of what they’re trying to accomplish.
I know, because once upon a time I was one of them.
Jilly has the last bite of her muffin and stands up.
“Finish your drinks,” Jilly tells the girls. “And for God’s sake have something to eat or Alan will try to feed us stale muffins tomorrow morning. Joking,” she adds, patting Alan on the head as she walks by him.
He’s poring over figures on the screen of his tablet, but looks up long enough to give her a mock frown before returning to whatever he’s doing.
We bring our coffees outside to where a line is forming in front of Jilly’s table. The dogs follow us and settle on their cushion. Mona and I sit on either side of Jilly, chatting to the people as they wait for their turn, opening books to their title page for Jilly to sign.
After a while things get a little less busy and Jilly starts to entertain herself by pointing out faeries to me—the real faeries, she says. I take her at face value now.
“Those two boys?” Jilly says, nodding with her chin toward two boys looking at the leather headpieces, bracelets and belts in the booth across the way. “They’re both hobs. Those three girls? The middle one’s a faerie.”
“Really?” I say, “because the costumes her friends are wearing seem more magical to me.”
“Mmm. Oh and look—a derrydown. That’s a kind of finding sprite and it’s rare to see them—hardly ever outside of Mabon. They’re related to derrynimbles which are the original finding spirits and the tiniest of things so they can’t ever pass as human.”
I see what looks to be an eight- or nine-year-old child dressed much too sexy goth for her age, except when she looks in my direction, her eyes show a depth of knowledge beyond that of any little girl I’ve ever met. The smile she sends my way is almost feral.
Another customer approaches the table. As Jilly begins to chat with him, Mona leans back in her chair and talks to me behind Jilly’s back.
“I know it can seem a bit much at first,” Mona tells me, “but it all starts to come together much more quickly than you’d think.”
I lean back in my own chair. “It does feel a little overwhelming. I’m trying to be cool about it but…” I give her a bit of a helpless look. “I’m kind of out of my depth.”
Mona laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re being very cool.”
“I think the most embarrassing part of it all is that this has been going on under my nose for years and I’ve never noticed.”
“Don’t be,” she says. “If you don’t have some magical being standing right in front of you it can be easy to think it’s all just stories and talk.”
“Excuse me,” someone says from the other side of the table. “Are the original paintings for sale?”
The girl asking the question is a teenager in a gorgeous costume that’s all shimmers and silk. I don’t make the assumption that the paintings are out of her price range. Last year the biggest sale was to a boy about her age.
“Sure,” I tell her. “Do you want to come around the table to have a closer look?”
She nods eagerly and maneuvers her tall faerie wings around a couple of people to come into the tent. Marisa comes over to talk to her, so I return my attention to what’s happening out front. I spot a couple of people I know: Izzy and Kathy, the two girls that live up in the attic of the house on Stanton Street. As I wave to them, I remember what Jilly said about people born from books and art. These girls seem so, well, real, as they wave back at me before disappearing into the crowd with a gaggle of their friends.
There’s been another pause in customers and I find Jilly looking at me.
“There’s no difference,” she says, “not once they’re here in our world.”
“Now you read minds?” I say.
She smiles and shakes her head. “But I can read faces, and I knew just what you were thinking. I know their origins are different from ours, but they were as much born as we were. And once they’re here, you have to treat them as real because…” She shrugs. “Well, because they are.”
“What did you call them before? Eadar?”
“No, Eadar are the beings that require someone to believe in their existence. Izzy and Kathy… Isabelle calls them numena—or maybe it was Christy who first used the term. I can’t remember. I just know that it doesn’t matter if you believe in them or not, they still exist.”
“I’m not sure I can keep all of this straight in my head.”
“Don’t worry,” Jilly says. “There’s not going to be a test.”
“But how do you know which are magical beings and which are people like you and me?”
“They have a bit of a glow to them—or maybe it’s a feeling that we get and we just perceive it as a glow. I haven’t thought about it for a while, so I’m not sure which comes first. But you’ll figure it out.”
A new wave of customers starts to form a line in front of the table and we get too busy to talk. As the time gets closer to noon, Sophie and Saskia arrive to relieve us. Mona and I take the dogs for a stroll through the festival. I see Lydia and return her wave, but I don’t stop at the clothing booth where she’s working. We find Tam with Geordie and the other musicians in the middle of an impromptu jam behind the main stage. They’re taking over the side stage later in the afternoon for a series of mini showcases, each taking their turn in the spotlight with the others backing them up as needed.
On the way back to the East Side Press tent, the dogs suddenly start pulling on their leashes and we see Mona’s boyfriend Lyle making his way through the crowd. I try not to stare at him too much because all I’m thinking is: werewolf. He fusses over the dogs. I offer to take both dogs back by myself so that he and Mona can have some time to themselves.
When I get back I let the dogs return to their cushion, then go watch the singer on the small stage that’s set up between the tent and the table where Cassie is doing her fortune telling. I spend a happy twenty minutes or so sketching the performer and various people listening before I return to help out in the tent.
It’s a crazy day, but Saturday is always the busiest one of the festival weekend. I don’t know how many copies of the new book have sold, but as the hours go by we’re kept busy restocking it and all the other merchandise. When Jilly takes a break I sit with Christy while he does his signing, but without a new book out he’s not nearly as busy as Jilly has been. Lots of people stop to talk to him though. I let their conversations wash over me and do more sketching.
The day finally winds down and I’m really looking forward to the music tonight. The Goblin Kings are the headliners and they always put on a great show. They can get the whole crowd dancing from their opening bars, and I think we all need to blow off some steam, though you wouldn’t know it to look at us now. We’re sprawled out in chairs in front of our tent waiting for Alan and Saskia to get back with our supper.
“I’m not sure I can walk all the way to the stage,” Mona says. “Will somebody carry me over later?”
“And then me?” Sophie adds.
“They should have little rickshaws to ferry people around the grounds,” I say.
Sonora’s ears twitch at the sound of my voice. She’s lying with her head on my lap and her butt on the seat of the chair by my thigh. I give her a scratch between the ears and she lets out a long contented sigh.
Mona grins. “That is a most excellent idea.”
Each and every one of us is exhausted from talking all day, except for Jilly, of course. I don’t know where she gets her energy. She’s been interacting with people since we got here this morning—and she’s still talking to a couple of fans by the side of the tent—yet all it seems to do is give her a boost.
“Hey,” a man’s voice says from beside me.
I look up to see Nick standing there.
“Annie said you came by the store the other day,” he adds.
“Annie?”
“My part-timer.”
“Oh, right. Cute girl with glasses like yours.”
“It’s a prerequisite to get the job,” he says.
“Really?”
He laughs and tilts his head as if to say, seriously?
I feel a telltale blush rising. God. Why did I say that?
“So how are you doing with your investigation?” he asks.
“It’s not really an investigation—”
“Oh, but it is,” Jilly says, coming up behind us and cutting me off. “But we’ve had to take a break to regroup and do more research.”
He gives her a curious look. “What kind of research?”
“Well, for starters did you know about his blog?” Jilly asks. “That’s one of the things we’re looking into.”
“What kind of a blog?” When Jilly cocks her head he adds, “You want me to guess. Okay. It had to have something to do with that TV show.”
“So you haven’t been on his blog?”
I know exactly what Jilly’s up to but I don’t say anything because I’m curious myself. Because if he was into it how creepy would that be?
Happily, he shakes his head. He gives me an apologetic look. “No offence, but I’m not really into network TV. I had no idea he had a blog. Is it helping your investigation?”
“Not really. But we’re following all kinds of leads.”
He looks from her to me. “You guys are really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“It’s a tough job,” Jilly starts, “but—”
I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “Pay no attention to her.”
He gives us a smile. “I get it. You can’t really talk about the case because it’s ongoing. That’s cool. Ethan and I weren’t exactly close but I liked him. It’s good to know that someone’s looking into it.”
He has a sweet smile, totally natural. I want to say that the police are looking into it but instead I ask, “How’d you know to find us here?”
“Just good luck. I came to see The Goblin Kings and noticed you sitting here. I’ve been hoping to run into you again.”
Jilly leans on the back of my chair and rests her head on top of mine. We must look like a very short totem pole. I wonder what my face is doing.
“Have you eaten?” Jilly asks. Her chin pokes into the top of my head as she talks.
He shakes his head. “I was going to grab something from one of the food booths.”
Jilly straightens back up. “Perfect! Come eat with us. Hey, everybody. This is Nick from Burns’ Books. Nick, this is everybody.”
Tired hands rise to wave a greeting as Jilly rattles through the names of the people he doesn’t know. She pulls an empty chair over beside mine.
“Have a seat,” she tells Nick.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Oh, please,” Jilly says before wandering off to the other side of the tent.
Nick sits down. He reaches out a hand to let Sonora sniff his fingers before giving her a pat.
“Is this your dog?” he asks.
I nod. “Her name’s Sonora. She’s a rescue that I just got this week.”
“She’s beautiful. I love her eye patch.”
“Me too. She is gorgeous, isn’t she?”
“So…” He glances over to where Jilly is sitting on the ground playing with Bobo. “I was serious about what I said. You guys are obviously tired and already had plans. I didn’t mean to push my way in.”
I smile. “You couldn’t leave now if you tried.”
“Because…?”
“You’d run up against the immovable force that is Jilly Coppercorn.”
He looks in Jilly’s direction again then back at me.
“So is she…?”
“Matchmaking?” I finish for him. “Definitely.”
I duck my head so that my hair falls in front of my face.
“Well, she’s got good sense—and taste.”
I look up to see he’s smiling.
“Aren’t we full of ourselves,” I say, returning his smile so that he’ll know I’m only teasing.
“But I was talking about you.”
I laugh. “Smooth.”
He just keeps smiling.
“So what got you into The Goblin Kings?” I ask.
“I saw them when they played the festival a couple of years back. One of the best shows I’ve ever seen.”
“Huh. I didn’t take you for a FaerieFest type.”
“What did you take me for?”
I smile. “A bit of a hipster?”
“Ouch.”
“Okay, I take it back. I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“But we have things in common,” he says, numbering them on his fingers. “We’re both here. We both like to work out. There’s at least one band we both like. And we definitely both like your dog.”
“Food’s on!” somebody calls out.
I turn to see Alan and Saskia approaching, hands full of takeout bags from The Light of India, one of my favourite restaurants ever.
“So you’ll stay to eat with us?” I ask Nick.
He grins. “Are you kidding? I love that restaurant.”
“And now we have five things in common,” I tell him.
Sonora jumps down from her chair. Nick offers me a hand up before I can get out of my own.
“What happens with Sonora while you’re watching the show later?” Nick asks.
“Oh, we’ve got—”
I don’t get to finish. Both Sonora and Bobo give happy barks and race to where, as if on cue, Joe appears at the side of the tent with a crow perched on his shoulder. It looks like he’s saying something to the bird. It bobs its head in response, then lifts from his shoulder to join the rest of the crows already in the trees. Nick follows its flight before looking at me again, eyebrows raised.
“That’s Joe,” I explain. “He and the crows are kind of like our booth security. He doesn’t mind looking after the dogs and they love him to pieces.”
We watch Joe fuss over Sonora and Bobo, then go over to accept our plates of food from Cassie. Her clothes are such a swirling kaleidoscope of primary colours that if a spotlight were to hit her, we’d probably all be blinded.
“You’ve got some interesting friends,” he says.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I tell him.
Dinner is nice. The food is terrific and Nick fits right in with our crowd. It helps that he already knows a few of them who frequent his store, but it’s more than that. He seems to have just the right easygoing vibe that lets anybody be comfortable around him.
I like that. I like how he makes me laugh. I like pretty much everything about him. So when we all head off for the main stage, I get a little butterfly as he takes my hand.
He dances with me when The Goblin Kings start playing, making up in enthusiasm for what he lacks in dance floor skills, but I don’t mind. He gets points for making the effort. He gets points for being present and attentive throughout the night, and if I didn’t have to be back the next day I might well have taken him home and it would have been Tam’s turn to find a stranger in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Do you make breakfast?” I ask him.
“I can certainly do the basics. Why?”
“No reason. I’m just taking a poll.”
Later on Nick walks Sonora and me home. I don’t invite him in but I get a most excellent kiss before he goes off on his way.
Sunday morning, it’s back to business again. We’re all a little bleary-eyed and moving slowly except for Jilly, but luckily the main crowds haven’t arrived yet. Sundays don’t usually pick up until noon and by then the rest of us will have caught a second wind, or at least have stolen a little nap in the back room.
The girls all want to talk about Nick. They know he walked me home after the main stage closed.
Mona puts her hands on my shoulders, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “I just want to know,” she says. “Is there love in the air?”
I let my eyes go wide. “I think you’re mistaking me for my brother.”
“Ouch,” Wendy says.
“Except it is true,” Jilly offers. “Tam’s not exactly the settling down type.”
I didn’t even think she was paying attention. She’s been fussing at the food table with her coffee, her back to us.
But Mona won’t let it go. “Come on. A little detail, please.”
“He was a perfect gentleman on a first date, which, technically, this wasn’t even, and I really don’t sleep with someone that I’ve only just met.”
“Except,” Mona says, “if you’re going to get all technical, you first met him earlier in the week.”
Marisa pokes her head in from the front part of the tent.
“What if I told you that Nick’s standing right out here beside me?” she says.
Mona puts a hand over her mouth.
“Except he’s not,” Marisa says. “But we do have customers.”
Jilly lays the back of her wrist against her forehead. “Slave driver.”
Marisa has no sympathy. “I’ll set you free at six o’clock.”
She lets the tent flap fall back in place. Jilly and I leave for the signing table to a general chorus of laughter.
“Tell me The Goblin Kings aren’t really goblins,” I say later when there’s a bit of a break.
Jilly smiles at me, an impish look in her eyes. “I can do that.”
