Autumn in the City of Lights by Kirby Howell Read Free Book Online

that day. She said they only became visible to us one day a year to collect raindrops so they could bathe. She said if I managed to find and catch one, the fairy would give me her raindrops to drink and grant me one wish.”
    “Did you find any?”
    “I think I made up a story about finding a fairy, and I wanted it to be true so badly that I started believing I actually did.”
    Grey chuckled. “And what did you wish for?”
    I thought back to that day on the beach. “You know, I don’t think I got that far. I was concentrating so much on making up the story I didn’t even think about what I’d wish for.”
    We smiled for the first time since the accident at the Hillside Bowl, and I disappeared into the memory again as Edith Piaf’s voice swelled. I could smell the salty freshness of the nearby beach, the acrid scent of cooking coddle, and my grandma’s laundry soap in the blanket around me. I could still feel the power in her small, bony hand as she patted the top of my head when she passed, heading back into the kitchen. Clusters of framed photos hung on the walls, like barnacles on a dock, and they seemed to lean in on us, holding in the warmth from the stone fireplace against the torrent of wind outside.
    “ Fòmhair , we should probably join the others.”
    Grey’s whisper brought me back to the present. The song was ending. I sat up, pulling the earbud from my ear and hearing the escalating noise from the kitchen downstairs.
    Daniel bellowed my name from the bottom of the stairs. I stood up and pulled Grey to his feet.
    “Interesting what living with a teenage girl will do to a middle-aged man.” I lowered my voice as we approached the stairs. “He’s been kind of overly protective lately.”
    Daniel came into view as we descended the stairs. “It’s dinnertime,” he said, eyeing Grey.
    Dinner at our house was usually a time of uncontrolled craziness. Everyone helped cook. This usually meant emptying the contents of the refrigerator and pantry and making a mess until we decided what to make. We took turns cleaning up in twos every night, except for Connie, who was exempt from dinner cleanup duty, simply because she ended up doing most of the cooking and organizing. It was usually the event of the day, but with both Ben and Shad absent, it was a quieter experience.
    We decided on vegetable stew, fresh baked bread, and fried eggs. The vegetables were from the garden I’d begun in the backyard, and Grey and Daniel began chopping them up, while Connie started mashing tomatoes to start the stew base. Rissi helped me mix up some no-rise bread as usual, but before we could leave our customary handprints on top of the neat, little loaves before putting them into the oven to bake, she went to the dining room table and sat by herself.
    Just as we were sitting down to eat, I heard the front door swing open. It caught all of us by surprise. I peeked into the living room, half-hoping for the miracle of Ben strolling in as if nothing had happened. But it wasn’t Ben.
    “Shad?!” I said, surprised. My skin prickled in goosebumps as a cold wave of terror hit me.  Could Ben have died? Is that why he was here now when he said he’d stay the night? Shad saw the expression on my face and was quick to hold up his hands.
    Before he could speak, Grey stepped up behind me. “What’s happened?”
    “Nothing’s changed. He’s fine... or the same as when you all left. Jen said she was too tired to sleep and wanted to stay the evening with him. Did I miss dinner?”
    I smiled and pointed toward the table, where Daniel had paused in setting out plates. “You’re just in time.”
    We sat down and began eating in silence. The meal was as appetizing as ever, but our hearts weren’t in it. Connie shook her head, looking at her watch.
    “We’ve been eating dinner later and later these days. This would not have flown at my house two years ago.”
    “At least we’re eating dinner,” Shad said, shoveling three fried eggs