“What did you say about fear?”
“Huh?” Wendy looks at him with glossy and confused eyes, “Oh. You’re letting the fear of losing them, like you’ve lost so many before, push them away. You don’t mean to, but you’re keeping them at an arm’s distance.”
Is that truly what he’s doing? Jackson buries his face in his hands, a dry chuckle echoing from behind them.
“What’s so damn funny?” Wendy has returned to her spot on the couch, legs crossed and one knee bouncing furiously. A manicured hand pets Princess Bandit who has joined her on the couch.
With one hand tangled in his dark hair, the other dropping to his side, he speaks to the ceiling. “That is the third time someone has told me that this week. Are you conspiring with my therapist and Steven by chance?”
Wendy rolls her eyes at him and huffs, “I am notthatmanipulative. Call it fate giving you a sign or whatever.”
Jackson feels his shadows move, what now? He turns to see what mischievous prank they were en route to pull now, the first in ages now that he thought about it, when a tendril of shadow places a photo frame in front of his face. It’s the framed photo of himself, his grandmother Eloise and Brenda Lee, on Brenda’s hundredth birthday. “Fate, huh?”
Brenda had left him the apartment, with the odd stipulation he’d find two roommates to share it with till graduation. He had found Hakeem, his mana match, and Eddie, someone who could understand the world he came from. Were it anyone else, would they have been as kind, patient, and forgiving? Would he have spent so many hours, days even, watching television, going to the store, sharing his deepest hurt, and creating so many happy memories with them? Would he have adopted a rambunctious raccoon who is currently snoring in a giant pink cat castle in his apartment after having her fill of scratches from Wendy?
No, he wouldn’t have.
A tendril of shadow passes him his phone, for once he thinks he might know what they wanted from him. He pulls up Jean-Claude’s contact information and turns back to face Wendy. “Let’s test fate then, shall we?” He presses the call button and turns the phone onto the loudspeaker, the dial tone echoing through the apartment.
They should have left already. He has no way to make a last minute decision and make it on time now, his best suit still in Nocturne Castle to begin with. Jean-Claude wouldn’t be available to portal them to the Spring Realm, even he had limits. Jean-Claude would answer and say they were already in the Spring Realm. He couldn’t return to the castle in the Winter Realm, then to the apartment, then back to the Spring Court whilst also having to return to the Winter Realm after the ball.
“Master Jackson,” Jean-Claude’s voice answers through the phone, “is there anything I can assist you with?”
“Jean-Claude, have you left with my parents and grandmother to the ball yet?”
“Your parent’s and grandmother have already departed for Primavera Castle.”
“See?” Jackson turns to Wendy, a smug expression across his face, to show her that fate wasn’t telling him anything. Before he could speak again, he’s interrupted by Jean-Claude.
“Though they did not require my assistance, it was decided they would take a carriage to the ball. I arranged for them to be taken to and through the portal station, to Castle Primavera, myself before they departed.”
What? They never bothered with anything but Jean-Claude’s magic for portal travel.
Wendy looks smug as she raises an eyebrow, before gesturing for Jackson to continue his conversation. “What-um-spurred this odd decision?”
“I do not know, master Jackson. Lady Eloise recommended a scenic route this solstice, your mother simply agreed to oblige the request. Now, is there anything I can assist you with? I find myself with time on my hands this evening.”
Jackson can’t believe it. Jean-Claude has the time and magic to take him and Wendy to the ball. He looks at the picture in his hand, jaw dropped as his words fail him. Since when did his grandmother care for extending her time outside the castle?
“Well?” Wendy now stands beside him, bouncing with excitement. “Didn’t you have something to ask Jean-Claude, Jackson?”
“Well,” Jackson says, trying to regain his composure, “I was debating going to the ball after all. Call it a spur of the moment decision. But I am afraid my plus one for the evening doesn’t have the time to dress for the-”
He is cut off by a blast of wind as a trench coat is thrown past him. A full, sparkling pink and green ball gown seems to have materialized on Wendy. Where was she hiding that?! He hadn’t noticed the matching heels. Her hair, usually a green bob, was now styled in loose green waves around her face. “How the hell?”
“Aeromancy to essentially shrink wrap the dress under the trench coat,” replies Wendy, triumphantly.
“And if I didn’t work up the courage to attempt this?” Jackson now raises both eyebrows, not believing the over preparedness of the woman before him.
“Then the delivery guy would be dropping off take out to a lady in a full ball gown. If we were going to wallow, I was going to do it in style. I wasn’t going to let you use me as an excuse.”
“You are truly unbelievable.”
“I know.”
Gods help him, he loves that woman.
“Master Jackson? Have you made your choice for the evening?” Jean-Claude asks from beyond the phone. Jackson had forgotten about him in the shock of Wendy’s reveal.
