Page 8 of Hidden Kingdoms

“Of course you have,” I replied as I sank into a chair next to her, her laugh loud and bright and familiar. The organized rows of growing vegetables spread ahead of us along with the thick leafy bushes ringing the yard, heavy ripened berries peeking from within.

Briar picked up her mug from the low table beside her, seeking its warmth. My eyes didn’t miss the ring that she wore on her middle finger, the thick golden band wrapped with delicate threads woven around tiny fragments of raw emeralds. It was one I had made her.

Nanna stood, moving past the dog-shaped obstacle in the doorway, to enter the kitchen and disappeared from view. I knew these moments together were bittersweet for her. Briar always left and each time I knew it chipped away at a part of her that took longer and longer to regain. Apart from these visits there was no contact—no calls, no letters. It was as though if she wasn’t here in front of us, she no longer existed.

Briar watched her, too, and I turned instead to the garden, chest aching at the pain that crossed her face.

A fluffy, speckled hen wandered out from underneath an overgrown patch of cabbages, another following shortly after pecking their way through the mud. Nanna had had the two chickens—Nugget and Drumstick—for suspiciously longer than what was a typical lifespan for such animals. I had been given the task of naming them as a child, along with a beautiful black silkie I’d named Cecelia who had escaped one day never to be seen again, much to my devastation.

Their gentle clucking made Titan’s ears twitch in their direction as they ambled his way. I was around ninety percent sure he wasn’t going to eat them considering the number of times I’d found them napping together in the sunshine.

“So,” Briar began, the light breeze blowing strands of her black hair around her face. “Tell me everything I’ve missed.”

I couldn’t even pin down how long she had been gone for, let alone fill her in on what had been happening during that time. My best guess is it had been two years since we had last seen her.

It’s not exactly like my life is jam-packed with adventure, though.

Nanna stepped outside then, a genuine smile on her face as she reached over and placed a hot mug into my hands, the steam curling in the air as my hands warmed against the porcelain, the bitter scent of coffee greeting me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, taking a sip and sighing as the hot liquid slid down my throat. “I don’t think there’s much to tell.”

I could start with I’m barely sleeping because of the awful nightmares I’ve been having lately.

“It’s mostly just been work.”

And I pulled the Tower card this morning but no biggy.

“My lemon tree finally grew a lemon, so that’s something.” Briar’s eyes narrowed slightly as the image of that card flitted through my mind, and I took another mouthful of coffee, hoping we could turn the conversation elsewhere.

“Elodie, you know I don’t care about your lemon tree.”

Rude. It had taken me 7 years to get it to fruit.

“No man friends to tell me about?” She wiggled her brows suggestively and I almost choked on the liquid still in my mouth.

“Ew,man friends,” I half laughed, half coughed. “But no, none of them.”

“What about that one who drove around in that huge truck and had a couple of gold teeth?” she asked, her brows furrowed in thought.

“That was Polly.”

“Oh, well what about that tall man who only liked to eat green food?”

“Also Polly. And four years ago.”

How did she even know about that?

“Ah,” Briar said. “How is Polly?”

“Same old Polly, all over the place, her latest hobby is wicker weaving. I texted her earlier to tell her you’re here, so expect her to bring over a basket or ten.”

“I look forward to it.” She smiled. “Oh, what about that other man who was staying here? He always wore flip flops and had lots of dangly earrings?”

Polly and I had often crushed on one of the drifters who would find their way to Nanna’s manor house and more than not they would end up in one of our beds, which probably wasn’t Nanna’s intention for her guests.

“Ok, yeah, that one was me.” I grimaced at the memory of Lloyd and the phantom clanging of those earrings.

“Well, what happened to him?” I saw Nanna smile against the rim of her cup; she had already heard this story.

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