Despite this being one of the few restaurants in town, she noticed there was no real food on any of the tables. There was bacon served with some of the apple pie, and cheese and even an arugula salad with what she thought was a pear custard pie. But no full meals. Suddenly, she was wondering how everybody in the Bayou was so healthy if all they ate were sweets.

She heard a throat clearing to her left, from behind the counter. It was nice, having other fairy folk around, for no other reason than there were other people around the same height. Siobhan peered into her eyes. “I see you, zana of the forest.”

“Brownie of the kitchen,” Charlotte replied, inclining her head.

Siobhan smirked. “My people cover far more than the kitchen.”

Charlotte gestured airily. “But there are kitchens in so many different places.”

“Clever,” Siobhan said, narrowing her eyes. “Now, what to serve you. You could be a difficult case… I’m going to give you cherry macaroon pie.”

“I’ve never heard of it, but I think I’d be a fool to doubt you,” Charlotte said.

Siobhan lifted a glass dome and cut a large slice of a deep red pie dotted with bits of toasted coconut topping.

“Now, go over there and sit with the O’Donnell boy and in a few minutes, I’ll come over and you can tell me that’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten,” Siobhan said.

Charlotte replied, “Oh, I don’t know. Leonard might want to have his lunch alone and—”

Siobhan lifted a small, bony hand to stop her objections. “That’s how things are done around here. You share your table. If you want to eat alone, you order to-go.”

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” Charlotte said.

“Then he should have ordered his pie to-go,” Siobhan told her.

Charlotte carried her plate over to Leonard’s table, feeling very much like the new girl traversing a middle school cafeteria. She could see his long frame go rigid as she approached and her heart sank. So far, all of Leonard’s reactions to her had been indirect–something she could chalk up to coincidence or misunderstanding. She honestly didn’t know how she would get through an outright rejection.

“Leonard, would you mind if I joined you?” Charlotte asked.

He glanced up at her, his dark eyes practically churning with indecision. “Hi Charlotte.”

There was an achingly awkward moment where she seriously considered turning around and eating her pie while standing at the counter.

He cleared his throat. “Sure. Have a seat.”

She slid into the booth, setting her pie in front of her. But before she could enjoy what was sure to be a pastry gift from the heavens, she wanted to clear the bullshit from the table. “Have I done something to offend you?”

“No,” he said, looking startled. “Oh, no. Why would you think that?”