Page 44 of Changing Tides

“Hey, squirt,” I call as I look down at Nana.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” she says as she continues digging in the soil.

I trot across the road and peek into the garden. Leia is wearing a glittery dress with a fairy tutu, a gold-and-pearl crown, and a pair of golden wings.

“What are you doing here, all by yourself?” I ask as I lean over the gate.

“I’m not by myself. Aunt Miya is in the kitchen. See?”

She points over my head and turns to see Amiya watching us through the window. I raise my hand, and she waves in return.

“Wanna have a tea party with me?” Leia asks.

“Tea party? Sure,” I say.

She opens the gate and leads me over to the garden table.

“Sit here. I’ll be right back,” she instructs.

I take a seat, and she skips over to the playhouse and opens the door. She disappears inside, but returns with a tray holding a miniature tea set. She sets it carefully in the middle of the table and runs back. When she comes back, she has a plate of cookies and a bowl of grapes. She sets them beside the tray and climbs up into the seat opposite me.

“Do you want one lump or two?” she asks as she places a teacup on a saucer.

“Two,” I request.

She opens the sugar bowl and pretends to plop two cubes in my cup. Then, she holds up a tiny pitcher. “Milk?”

“Please,” I say.

Once she has it prepared, she takes the teapot in hand and carefully pours it. I’m surprised when actual tea fills the cup.

“Would you like lemon?”

“I would indeed,” I state.

She looks around the table.

“Oh, wait, I forgot. Stay here,” she says before hopping down and sprinting back to the playhouse and fetching a bowl of sliced lemons. She places one in my cup and one in her own before pouring herself some tea.

I grasp the delicate porcelain handle, extend my pinkie finger, and bring it to my lips.

“Mmm, refreshing,” I praise.

She extends the plate of cookies to me, and I take a Fudge Stripe.

“Thank you, fairy princess,” I say.

“You’re welcome, jolly giant,” she replies.

Jolly giant?

I rest my cup on the table and look at her. “Can’t I have wings too? I want to fly.”

“You’re a boy, silly,” she muses.

“Boy fairies don’t have wings?” I ask.

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