The Fairy-Tale Matchmaker (24 page)

“Really?” said Daisy. “He's always been nice to me. I didn't even know you knew him. I met him when he came by to ask questions about you. I probably should have told you that, but I've been so busy and—”

“What's going on?” Tom Tom asked, pushing past Skippy to get in the room.

“You're not supposed to be in here!” Skippy told him.

“Stuff it, goat boy!” snarled Tom Tom. He turned to Cory even as he put his arm around Daisy.

“What have you been telling her?” he said. “You should learn to mind your own business. My relationship with Daisy has nothing to do with you.”

“Yes, it does,” said Cory. “A good person doesn't stand by and let her friend get hurt. Daisy has been my friend for most of my life, and I'm not going to let her date a bully without knowing the truth. I think you were the one who kidnapped Noodles. I bet the guild you work for is the Tooth Fairy Guild!”

“Somebody kidnapped Noodles?” said Daisy, her gaze flicking from Cory to Tom Tom.

Cory nodded. “Yes, but he's back now. And the day after he came back he threw up something he'd taken from his kidnapper. Look at Tom Tom's boots, Daisy. Do you see how the left one is missing a buckle? I found one just like those when I cleaned up Noodle's mess.”

“Don't listen to her. She doesn't know what she's talking about,” Tom Tom told Daisy.

“I still have the buckle,” Cory told her friend. “The next time you come to my house, Daisy, I'll show it to you.”

Olot came through the door then, his size making the room look small. When he saw Tom Tom scowling at Cory, he pointed at the door and said, “You have to leave. Only band members or restaurant employees are allowed in here.”

Tom Tom turned to Olot, a sharp retort on his lips. It died as his gaze traveled up and up to the ogre's face. “I was having a pleasant conversation with my friends,” he finally said.

“I don't think so,” Johnny Blue said from the open door. “I heard an angry voice in here, and I think it was yours.” He gave Tom Tom such a pointed look that the young man licked his lips and took his arm off Daisy's shoulder.

“I was just leaving,” Tom Tom said, glancing from Olot to Johnny Blue.

No one spoke until he left the room, then Johnny turned to Cory and said, “What was that all about?”

“That was Tom Tom,” said Cory. “I think he's the one who took Noodles.” Johnny's eyes narrowed as she told him about the buckle that Noodles had brought home.

“Uh-huh,” said Johnny Blue. “Don't worry about Tom Tom. I'll keep an eye on him.”

When the band returned to the stage, the audience clapped and stomped their feet. Everyone in the band was grinning when they started to play. They played their
new version of “Silver Moon” first, followed by “Owl Goes A-Hunting.” After that they played old favorites until they were too tired to play anymore. Cory wasn't the only one to get blisters on her fingers that night.

She was covering up her drums when Tom Tom hopped onto the stage. Cory watched him sidle past her bandmates to join her in the back. “I'm sorry I was so rude earlier. I'd like to take you and Daisy out to eat to make up for it.”

“Actually, I've had a very long day and I'm tired,” said Cory. “I really just want to go home and get some sleep. Thanks for asking, though.”

“You can sleep later,” he replied, and was reaching for her arm when Johnny Blue stepped onto the stage.

“If she's going out to eat, it will be with me,” Johnny Blue said.

He had approached so quietly that Cory hadn't known he was there. Apparently, neither had Tom Tom. He scowled when he saw Johnny Blue, but he let go of Cory and stepped back.

“
And
I'll see that she gets home safely,” said Johnny. He glared at Tom Tom, who looked defiant for a moment, then smirked and sauntered off to join Daisy.

The first important thing Cory did the next morning was to send messages to Marjorie and Jack Nimble to set up a date for that very day. The second was to head to the address on the envelope that her grandfather had sent her years before. Cory had never visited the part of town where her grandfather lived. It was in an older, well-established neighborhood where big lawns led up to houses that could almost be called mansions. When Cory found the address on the post by the street, she fluttered in place, wondering if she'd ever been inside the house when she was a baby.

The stone house was three floors tall with a wide covered porch at its center. Tall trees dotted the property, shading the lush lawn that surrounded the nearly circular driveway. A flower garden filled the circle, and
in the center of the garden, water splashed from one stone lily to another in a white marble fountain.

Cory returned to her human size after landing in the street in front of the house. She walked slowly up the cobblestone driveway, studying the flowers, the lawn, and the fountain. When she stepped onto the porch, she glanced back and noticed that the driveway wasn't as circular as she'd thought, but instead was shaped like a heart with the rounded top of the heart by her feet and the pointed end touching the road. Now that she was close to the house, she could see that the heart motif seemed to be everywhere. Tall urns flanking the door were filled with bleeding hearts, their heart-shaped red blossoms trailing down the sides to partially cover the hearts etched into the ceramic. Hearts were carved into the wide front door and a heart made of mother-of-pearl that was no bigger than her thumbnail was mounted on the door frame. “Press me” was written on the center of the heart.

“Huh,” Cory murmured. “There's no accounting for taste.”

She pressed the mother-of-pearl heart and heard bells chiming nearby. After waiting for what she thought was a reasonable amount of time, she was reaching for the heart again when the door opened and the scent of flowers wafted out of the house.

At first Cory thought the person standing with his hand on the door was a brownie or some other kind of sprite. He was about two feet tall and was wearing tan slacks, a light blue shirt, and yellow and blue shoes like she'd seen humans wear for running. At second glance, she saw that his bald head, unlined face, pudgy hands and arms made him look more like a six-month-old human baby. His expression, however, was not at all babylike. He was scowling at her, looking irritated and bored at the same time.

“Whatever you're selling, we're not buying any,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice, and started to shut the door.

Cory grabbed hold of the door to stop it from closing. “I'm not selling anything.”

“We don't do questionnaires or petitions either,” he said, tugging on the door.

“I'm here to see Mr. Feathering,” said Cory. She shoved the door open wider and stepped into the large foyer, brushing past the baby-man who was spluttering and making faces at her. Her shoulder bumped a set of bells that were hanging just inside the door, making them sway and ring. They were the bells that had chimed when she'd pushed the button. Cory glanced from the bells to the little man. “You can tell him that Cory Feathering is here to see him.”

He shut one eye to peer at her with the other. “Stay right here,” he finally ordered, and closed the door with a bang. Turning his back on her, he disappeared into another room.

While Cory waited for him to return, she studied the foyer, noting the wide set of stairs that swept up one side to a landing on the second floor, and curved again until it reached the third floor. She thought the stairs would have been lovely if the banisters hadn't been overdone with carvings of hearts and flowers. Set into the center of the marble floor of the foyer was a huge red garnet heart, and above the heart there was a round table supporting a vase filled with roses, lilies, carnations, baby's breath, hydrangeas, and daisies. The flowers reminded Cory of a wedding bouquet. She had walked over to look at the flowers when she heard someone giggle. Glancing up, she saw two more babylike people peeking at her from the second-floor landing. They both wore plain blue dresses and had miniature mops in their hands. When they saw that Cory was looking at them, they moved out of sight.

A moment later, the little man was back. “Come along,” he said. “We don't have all day.”

Cory followed her escort, walking slowly behind him as he toddled through the house. At times he seemed so unsure of his footing that she was tempted to scoop him
up and carry him, but she was afraid he'd consider it insulting. When she wasn't watching him, she looked around, curious about the house. The heart motif was everywhere—carved on the legs of tables and chairs, embroidered on cushions and in framed pictures on the walls. Some of the pictures included more babylike people, only these were dressed in diapers and had small feathered wings. There were vases of flowers everywhere.

They were in a hallway when Cory heard a sound behind her. She glanced back and saw faces watching her from the doorways she'd already passed. Every one of them looked like a human baby; some were more feminine than others. A few of the little people waved at her shyly.

A moment later, Cory's escort opened a glass door leading outside to a stone terrace that ran the width of the house. An elderly man was seated at a table, reading
The Fey Express
with a half-filled mug in front of him. When the little man cleared his throat and said, “Here she is,” the elderly man put down the paper and turned to look at them.

“Thank you, Orville,” said the man, but his eyes were already on Cory's face.

“She says she's Cory Feathering,” said Orville.

“You already told me that.”

“Well, is she?”

The man studied Cory's face a moment longer and nodded. “I do believe she is.”

Wearing a satisfied look, Orville turned and tottered back through the door.

“Please, sit down,” the man said, gesturing to a chair across from him. “Would you like some mulled cider?”

Cory took a deep breath. She could smell the tart scent of apple and spices of the man's drink. “Yes, please.”

The old man picked up a small bell and rang it. In less than a minute a little woman who resembled a bald baby girl opened a door and stepped onto the porch, looking at him expectantly. “Another mulled cider and some breakfast, please, Margory. I've found I have an appetite after all.”

The little woman smiled as if he'd said something wonderful, and scurried back through the door.

There were so many things Cory wanted to ask him, but the first one that crossed her lips was, “If it isn't rude, may I ask what kind of beings Margory and Orville are?” asked Cory.

“They are putti,” said the old man. “Putti are much like cherubs, but without wings. The putti you see here worked for me for many years. I'm semiretired now, but I kept them on however I could.”

They sat for a moment, inspecting each other in
silence. Cory could see some resemblance between them. His eyes were the same shade of blue as hers. His mouth was the same shape as hers, with a thinner upper lip and a plump bottom lip concealing even, white teeth. His hair was white, but it was as thick as hers, curling across his forehead and down the back of his neck. Although Cory'd never thought much about her own appearance, she thought he was a very handsome man. “You
are
Lionel Feathering, aren't you?” Cory said after a while. “I mean, no one has introduced us.”

“I am indeed,” he said, looking very serious. “And you are my granddaughter. I'm glad you found me. I wasn't sure you ever would. Your mother was so vehement I stay away that I didn't dare come see you. What made her change her mind?”

“She hasn't,” said Cory. “Uncle Micah gave me a card you'd sent. Your address is on the back.”

“So your mother doesn't know that you're here?”

Cory shook her head. “I left the Tooth Fairy Guild and Mother didn't approve. We had a big fight, so I couldn't stay there any longer. Uncle Micah has let me live with him.”

“I'd heard your mother made you join her guild,” said Lionel. “I wondered how long it would last. You have to have a certain temperament to be a tooth fairy and I never saw that in you when you were a little
girl. You were too independent and stubborn, just like me.”

Cory smiled. “That's what Mother always said—that I was as stubborn as you are. She didn't talk about you much, but what she did say wasn't very nice. From the way she talked about you, I thought you were dead.”

When her grandfather laughed, he tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide. It was an infectious laugh and Cory's grin grew broader. “Not dead,” said her grandfather, “semiretired. I'd hoped to have a successor by now, but it didn't work that way.”

A door opened as Orville and Margory came out bringing two large trays. Cory and her grandfather sat back while Orville unloaded his tray of plates and cutlery, pastries, a mug for Cory, and a pitcher full of mulled cider. When he stepped aside, Margory set down platters of eggs coddled in milk, stacks of hot nut bread, a small plate holding butter shaped like a rose in full bloom, and a large green bowl of fresh sliced fruit.

“Thank you,” Cory said. The two putti grinned at her before going back inside.

Cory had eaten a slice of toast for breakfast and normally that was enough, but now her mouth watered and she gazed at the food longingly.

“Please help yourself,” her grandfather said, his eyes twinkling.

Not wanting to look greedy, Cory helped herself to a pastry. She took a bite and savored the taste of cinnamon and butter before turning to her grandfather and saying, “If you're semiretired, what did you do exactly?”

“Your mother didn't tell you anything about me, did she?” her grandfather asked as he helped himself to fruit.

“She wouldn't even tell me your name.”

“Most people don't know me by my name. It's my title that interests them. For eight hundred and fifty-three years I was Cupid, just as my father was before me. I had hoped my son would follow in my footsteps, but he shunned the job and joined the military instead. Then he married your mother and our relationship was a bit strained. His platoon was sent to fight in the Fairy War and I never heard from him again. Your mother hadn't liked me from the beginning, so I wasn't surprised when she told me that she wanted nothing more to do with me. Losing my son and then my only grandchild nearly broke my heart. You were the only family I had.”