I squished the crumbs of my cake up with a fork as my eyes drifted to the present Jenks and I had gone in on together, wondering what it said about us. I had bought a set of redwood building blocks, and Jenks had painted garden flowers and bugs on them to go along with the alphabet. He was working on another set for his children, determined they would all know how to read before spring.

The pixies flew up in noisy delight when Ceri got the wrapping paper off and revealed a Dr. Dan’s Misty Memories Humidifier with deluxe soothing atomizer built right in to “lull your baby to sleep on the most trying of nights.” I was staying out of the way, but my mother went to kneel beside Ceri as the elf seriously unpacked the thermometer and burping cloths she had put in there with it.

“Ceri, this is a lifesaver,” my mom was saying as the young-looking elf lifted the green plastic monstrosity out. “Rachel was a fussy baby, but I would just put a bit of lilac into the little cup, and she would drop right off.” She smiled at me, looking different with her new hairstyle. “And it’s indispensable if your baby gets the croup. Robbie never got the croup, but Rachel, lord love a duck, she’d just about scare me to death every winter with her coughing.”

Hearing a story coming on, I picked up a few plates and stood. “Excuse me,” I said, beating a tactful retreat into the kitchen as my mom started in on the story of my nearly suffocating. Ceri looked properly horrified, and I rolled my eyes to tell her it was mostly momma drama. Mostly.

I glanced back at the scene of content femininity as the dark confines of the hall took me. My mother had gifted Ceri’s baby with a wish for health, Matalina gave the trappings of security, Ivy imparted beauty and innocence, and Jenks and I gave wisdom. Or maybe entertainment.

The kitchen held a cool quietness, and I glanced out at the graveyard and let my vision drift into my second sight to make sure Al wasn’t waiting for me. The red-smeared sky of the ever-after mingled with the reality of gray clouds to make an ugly picture, and I shivered though the line was empty. He said he would call first, but I didn’t trust him not to just show up and scare the crap out of everyone. Apparently Newt’s claim that he had made himself destitute was right, because he said he wasn’t going to bring me over until he had a kitchen that wouldn’t embarrass him. I wanted my name back and that mark on my foot removed, and I think he was stalling, not wanting to lose that hold on me.

“That was a lovely shower,” my mom said from the hallway, and I jumped, startled.