Page 50 of Welcome to Fae Cafe
For that, he forced another non-cruel smile to try again.
The old woman, however, went back inside, and Cress lowered the coffees. But she came back out with a thick plaid coat in her wrinkled fingers. She extended it toward him.
“Heavens, son. How are you not sick yet?”
Cress stared at the ugly human overcoat. He hid his scowl as he set the coffees down on the porch stairs to take it and put it on.
As hideous as human garments were, he had to admit, the coat was exceptionally warm.
“I’m heading out for my morning walk. Why don’t you join me since it seems you still have something to try and sell to me, hmm?” Without waiting for him to pass it to her, Thelma Lewis took one of the coffees for herself and began heading toward a path in the bush.
“I’m not trying to sell you anything,” Cress said as he grabbed his own coffee and jogged to catch up, struggling to clasp the coat’s buttons with only one hand. “Perhaps I was simply curious. I smelled your baking from the road last night.”
“Ah.” Thelma nodded. “That is a terrible lie. Try harder,” she advised, but Cress looked up from the buttons.
“It wasn’t a lie,” he said.
Thelma only laughed as a response. A moment later, she set her coffee on a rock and swatted Cress’s hands away to button up his coat for him.
Mor would have told Cress to just say the old woman’s name and be done with it.
Four hours later, Cress waited for Thelma at the kitchen table. The old woman came down the stairs with a soft navy sweater in one hand, and a box half her size balancing high on her opposite shoulder.
Cress leapt to take the box before she might tip right over. He set it on the table, eyeing the sweater that Thelma held up for him to see.
“I bought this for my grandson, Greyson. But he’s gone to a warmer place for the winter, so you can have it.” She extended it toward him, and he took it with hesitation. “It’s a name brand, and it was expensive. So, take care of it,” she added as she dragged the box over to herself.
Cress’s thumb ran over the fabric. This was nothing in comparison to the luxurious fabrics in the North Corner, but it was better than wearing a garment with no sleeves as he had been doing. He pulled the sweater on to see if it fit.
“Look at these muscles,” Thelma said, knocking a knuckle off his arm. “Big muscles won’t do you any good if you freeze to death, you know.”
Cress stretched back and forth. The sweater was too tight.
“Now, onto the next thing. My hands shake too much to write proper letters these days. You need a place to sleep from what I can tell since you still aren’t trying to sell me anything. And I need someone to help me do a few simple tasks.”
Cress raised a brow. He didnotdo tasks for humans. “What sort of tasks?” he asked anyway, leaning to try and see inside the mysterious box.
Thelma handed him an ink pen with a blue lid. “Well, the firewood out back needs chopping. My granddaughter Lily usually does it, but she’s been too busy. But before I make use of your muscles, I need you to write some letters.”
Cress glanced down as Thelma stuffed papers into his hands. “How many letters?” he asked.
“Well, we’ll start with one to the neighbours. We’ve been at war for three years now over them hauling their leaves intomyyard and dumping them there. Last year I had to hire someone to get all the leaf piles removed,” Thelma said with a grunt. “I’m too old to stuff them into bags and haul them away myself. I think they’re trying to take advantage of me. I’d like to let them know that I see exactly what they’re doing.”
Cress nodded and sat at the table, spreading the first page flat. “I shall tell them they are insubordinate fools who will suffer the wrath of the sky deities—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Tell them I have a granddaughter who’s a cop. And that she’ll be paying them a visit soon if they try tossing their leaves onto my property again.”
Cress made a doubtful face. “You think threatening to send one measly human after them will frighten them into obedience?”
“I think that’s just where I’m going to start.Plan Ais this letter.Plan B—” the old woman smiled. Cress knew the look of a plotter when he saw one. “—Plan Bcomes later if they don’t smarten up.”
“All right,” Cress sighed. “I’ll write your preposterous letter. Who else must I write to after this?”
“Katherine, Lily, and Greyson.”
Cress’s fingers tightened on the pen. He smoothed out the paper again when he realized he’d crumpled the corner.
“I think a letter will be easier. I’ll leave them on the kitchen table on my last day here.” A water bead glistened in Thelma’s eyes before she brushed it away. “I have good grandchildren and they’ve suffered enough losses. This is one loss I can take care of on my own.”
