From behind a rosebush, Melidor popped up. “I can do it.”
Calisa jumped.
Flopping over, Steve hissed and spread his wings.
She’d had no idea Melidor was there. Granted, Melidor was rarely inside—possibly avoiding the voices of her relatives from her closet—but Calisa still hadn’t expected a jumpscare. She thought of the green woman’s message, the one she hadn’t passed along yet. She still hadn’t figured out a way to phrase it that didn’t make it obvious she’d been in Melidor’s room uninvited. “It’s okay,” Calisa soothed Steve. “It’s just Melidor.”
The lizard folded his wings again.
“What do you mean you can do it?” Jack asked Melidor. “You’d have to cut wood. With an axe. We can’t ask that of you.”
“It’s just wood chips, right? I’ll ask a couple of beavers to gnaw a bunch of logs.” She used her fingers to mime teeth chomping. “Gnash-gnash-gnash.”
Calisa stared at her. “You’ll…really?”
“They like me,” Melidor said.
What are you?Calisa wanted to ask. But there was no way that question would go over well, either with Melidor or Auntie Zee, if she happened to hear it. “Great. Go for it.”
Whistling, Melidor skipped toward the woods.
“Do you think she can actually talk to beavers?” Calisa asked Jack.
“Honestly? No idea.”
They both waited for a few minutes, but Melidor didn’t emerge from the woods. Calisa went back to weeding. Now that they’d cleared the largest tangle of weeds, there were an endless number of smaller weeds that filled the flower beds. Calisa was becoming adept at recognizing them. She piled them in a heap on the flagstones that led to the front of the porch. Steve nibbled at them as if they were a salad buffet.
“Have you thought about trying a chocolate cake?” Jack asked.
“You’re making specific requests now?” Calisa asked. “I didn’t know our relationship had progressed to that.”
“If you don’t want to…I mean, you don’t have to. I just…”
She resisted the urge to smile. “I’m going to try one soon,” Calisa told him. “Mulligan loves chocolate too. He’s already asked. It’s just the recipe is tricky. It calls for ganache and a mirror glaze, and I’ve never made that before.”
As they continued to weed, they chatted about the best chocolate cakes they’d ever eaten. Calisa told him about her sixth birthday, when her moms had splurged on a special lunch at the American Girl doll café in Manhattan, where you satyour doll in its own seat at the table. She didn’t have a doll like that, but she’d brought her teddy bear in a doll’s dress. Jack told her about a chocolate cake a guest brought that, when you cut it, shot miniature fireworks into the air a foot above the cake.
After about a half hour, Melidor trotted out of the forest.
Behind her trailed six beavers.
Alarmed, Steve flapped his wings and flew to the roof of the porch.
It occurred to Calisa that she’d never seen a beaver in person. Surprisingly enormous, each was the size of an overfed corgi. They waddled in unison, dragging their wide leathery tails behind them. Their fur was wet and slicked back, and she wondered if they’d fluff up when they were dry. Their whiskers vibrated as they sniffed the air, wrinkling their noses. One of them was making a soft huffing noise.
Calisa and Jack (and Steve) stared as Melidor directed the beavers to fan out at the edge of the forest. The oversize rodents swarmed over fallen branches and logs, and soon the air was filled with the sound of a half-dozen beavers gnawing their way through deadfall.
Melidor hurried up to them with a huge smile on her face. “They’ll make the mulch.”
“That’s amazing,” Jack said. “Thank you!”
“How—” Calisa began.
Jack shot her a look.
“Thank you,” Calisa said instead. “Is there anything we can help you with in return, while the beavers are, um, mulching?”
Jack was nodding as if he approved of the question. It wasan offer to help, not prying into her personal life, though Calisa was secretly hoping that Melidor would open up about why she was here and why her mother was so concerned.
