Page 45 of Sweet Silver Bells
“They are a part of me; I am a part of them. My singing is necessary only to control other humans, a funny consequence.”
“Is it just men that are affected?”
“That’s a peculiar question. Plants do not have genders.”
Hunter sighed. “Your singing—does it only work on men? Or does everyone forget?”
“Women are affected as well.”
Hunter walked into the kitchen, turning his back on her to grab his wallet off the counter. When he returned, Olivia was peering out the front window, her eyes large, sad.
“Your poor tree,” she whispered.
“We can put the TV in the garage, unplugged when I return,” he suggested.
“Yes, we must. We must bring it relief.”
Hunter opened the front door and walked out of the house. “I’ll be right back. Please stay inside, don’t talk to anyone, don’t trust anyone.”
Olivia just stared at the tree from the window, blowing her hair off of her face, her eyes going vacant as she sighed.
Hunter closed the door, watching her from the other side of the window, his stomach tightening again as he admired her face, her hair, her beauty, her strangeness.
“Let’s go buy pots on your teacher's salary,” he muttered to himself as he walked to his car, the snow on his lawn crunching under his boots.
12
CHAPTER TWELVE.
“That one,” Hunter said to the jolly middle-aged man behind the counter, his face too close to the glass as he stared at the pastries on the other side.
“Good choice, that’s one of our specialties for the season,” the man said, grabbing the beige fluffy pastry topped with powdered sugar and candied oranges.
Hunter didn’t often explore the more tourist-focused shops on Main Street, but the nearest nursery in Stockbridge was only a few blocks away, and he was famished. If sweets were what soothed the tree siren’s stomach, then they would eat like kings today.
“Are you Klaus?” Hunter pointed to the wall sign, the store named Klaus’s Danish Bakery in bright, cheery letters. The man behind the counter lit up, his jolly cheeks perfect cherry circles, nodding enthusiastically.
“I am. It’s a busy season, so all hands on deck this week. We’ve got more than three hundred Kransekages to make before customers come in to pick them up for their holiday celebrations.”
“That’s amazing. This place is so great, though maybe not so great for my wallet,” Hunter said, pointing to another donut-like Danish topped with berries and cream.
“How many?” Klaus asked, chuckling.
“Let's get two of those as well.”
Klaus wrapped eight Danishes in a creamy cerulean box and tied them with a beige string. “Let’s get these in your car before the rain starts,” Klaus said, watching Hunter insert his credit card into the reader.
He looked out the glass windows to see the dark gray skies inching overhead.
“Nothing cozier than snuggling up on a rainy day and eating Danishes. Sharing them with someone special?”
Hunter took the box Klaus held out to him. “You could say that.”
“Judging by the blush on your face, I’d take a guess that they are really special.”
Hunter didn’t have the heart to tell Klaus that his face was red from the blistering cold winds whipping at his face as he walked the block to the storefront. Besides, he could be lying to himself. Olivia could only be described as special.
“She is,” Hunter finally said, waving and exiting the store. The ring of the gold bell above the door bid him farewell as he hurried to his car.
