Page 37 of The Deer and the Dragon
(Nia) Please pick up your phone. I gave you an address from a serial killer report and now you’re not answering.
(Nia) Pick up your goddamn phone
Missed call
(Nia) I’m telling Kirby. We’re going to kick your ass.
(Nia) You’d better not be dead or I’m going to regret my last text being mean to you
Missed call
(Nia) At what point do I call the police? Is it now? Do I call them now?
Two missed calls
(Nia) Three things. One, your doorman should be fired because they never should have confirmed that you’re home. That’s dangerous. I could be anyone, I shouldn’t be privy to that information. Two, I’m glad they did, because now I know you made it back. Three, get ready for an ass whooping.
My thumbs moved quickly as I messaged her back that I’d run into an old friend and she’d stayed over. I apologized, gave a half-assed promise to never make her worry again, and closed the thread. Fauna and I had just parked after a twenty-minute drive—one where she’d pressed every button, flipped through twenty radio stations, rolled downthe window, and been a conduit for chaos for every waking second—when my phone went off again.
I put the car in park.
(Nia) Liar. We both know you don’t have friends.
My grumble was somewhere between a huff and a sigh. I turned to Fauna. “Take a photo with me?”
She glowed at the request, lit from some secret, inner sun as she said, “The great artists of yore used to paint and sculpt me, but sure, I guess I can snap a picture.”
I held the phone out for a selfie, then immediately frowned down at the resulting image. She looked like a celebrity smiling next to a gremlin.
(Nia) Oh, it’s ahotfriend. Okay, I take back everything I said. Go be happy.
(Nia) I take backhalfof what I said. You’re not forgiven for making Kirbs and me worry.
(Nia) Still, I hope your night was fun. And I want explicit details later
“Give me your card,” Fauna said, holding out her hand as we stopped outside of the hippest coffee shop I could find in the city. I was such a shut-in that I’d had to searchcool cafés near mebefore guiding my Mercedes into the sunrise as if I knew what I was doing. The morning light made her glitter with fairy-like qualities. The separate blocks of her copper-and-silver hair caught against the gold of the early morning light that bathed the sidewalk. A light, summery breeze ruffled her strands and brushed me with the same gentle fingers of sea spray, salt, and freshly cut pine I’d noticed on her before.
I frowned at the card. “Do you know how to use it?”
She sank her weight into one hip. “I watch the people-monkeys dance for me on your human television. That makes me an expert. Now, give it. Go in and take aseat.”
I had to admit she was right. If I had stood beside her, I would have been able to convince myself that I’d been communicating on her behalf while in yet another in a long string of episodes. That said, I was very curious as to how the next few minutes would go. I was utterly ready to sit in despondent, caffeine-free quiet in the corner of the room until I realized no hot drinks were arriving.
Instead, I watched the barista fumble with the tongs, stumble over their words, and ogle like they’d seen a ghost when Fauna flashed them her brightest smile. She thanked the barista with a wave and sauntered as if she were walking the catwalk from the counter to the table before sliding into the seat across from me. She planted a blueberry scone in front of me and dug into a small mountain of honey-sweet treats in front of her.
Living in a converted warehouse hadn’t stopped me from appreciating exposed brick, the shiny metal of ceiling duct work, or the industrial piping that could so easily be flipped into an artistic space. Enormous, arched windows made me wonder if this had once been a church before the era of gentrification. Now, canvases from local artists covered the cream bricks. Perky peonies dotted every table. The air was rich with freshly brewed coffee, warm bread, and the glow of early morning light.
It would have been aesthetic as hell even if I hadn’t been eating with a goddess.
“Um, your majesties?” the barista called from behind the counter. The few patrons on the mostly vacant shop dared curious glances. All eyes lingered on Fauna.
From behind the sunglasses, Fauna winked. She clicked her tongue and shot a finger gun as she popped up to fetch the drinks.
“Never give out your real name,” she said moments later as she returned to the space across from me. “Speaking of which, have I told you that you’re a dumbass?”
I wrapped my fingers around the deliciously warm cup. I’d begun to thank her before remembering that I’d technically paid for it. “You may have mentioned,” I said. I took a sip and made a face. My tongue barely made it back into my mouth for me to demand, “What is this?”
“Six pumps of sugar. And caramel. And vanilla. Other nice things too. All the goodies. You’re welcome.”
