Bittersweet

Robin stood in the kitchen over the stove, frying a few eggs in a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet. It was not often everyone in the household was up and getting ready at the same time, but ever since Sebastian started taking classes in the city they all ate breakfast together as a family. Despite Maru's notable absence, the carpenter appreciated the extra time with her son, especially with the news that Sebastian may be moving to ZuZu City in the coming weeks.

Demetrius pulled a few biscuits out of the oven and inhaled deeply as he admired their golden-brown color. "These are perfect!" he declared with a pleased grin on his face, doling the steamy bread onto the serving plate on the kitchen table.

Sebastian poured coffee into each of the mugs and dumped the rest into his thermos for later. "They smell good," their son admitted, grabbing a biscuit from the tray and tearing it in half to shove a few strips of bacon inside. He dropped it onto the plate after realizing it was too hot to handle without risking a nasty burn on his fingertips.

Robin scooped up the scrambled eggs from her skillet and added them to the breakfast fare as her two favorite men sat down at the table with her. "Today's my last day at Violet's farm," the red-head reminded her family, taking a sip of her coffee. It needed more cream. "Unless she decides to order another building before my day is over."

Sebastian shook his head. "I think the barn was the last improvement she wanted for now," he explained. Robin figured her son's information was probably the most accurate other than straight from the source. They were turning out to be quite the cute couple. Despite the stress of the end of the term, Robin could see that even with Sebastian a bit stressed, her boy was happier than he had been in a long time.

Demetrius popped a handful of blackberries into his mouth. "So, Sebastian. How's the apartment search going?" Robin smiled. It was good to see her husband making an effort to talk to Sebastian.

Her son, who had been staring at what Robin assumed were class notes, shifted his focus back to his parents. Sebastian was caught off-guard by the question and it showed. "Oh, uh, this weekend was a bust," her son communicated, "but I think I have a good lead on a place. Violet and I are going to check it out tomorrow, I think."

Robin felt a pang of sadness regarding this new development. "That's great news, Sebby," she replied sweetly. Wordlessly, Demetrius reached out for her hand under the table. She gave it a squeeze. "Did you take a walk about campus like I suggested?"

Sebastian sniffed in amusement. "No, a professor I know is going on sabbatical for a year and asked if I was interested in watching his place for him. If it works out, it would be a good deal for both of us."

Demetrius chimed in with an inquiry of his own. "Which class of yours does this professor teach?"

Swallowing a swig of black coffee, Sebastian corrected the assumption. "He's not actually one of my professors. I met him on my first day on campus when parking my motorcycle and we've bumped into each other a lot because of it." Her son directed his next remark to Demetrius directly. "He teaches mechanical engineering. Do you know anyone in that department?"

Demetrius frowned, "No, I'm more familiar with those teaching in the Natural Sciences department."

Sebastian picked up his notebook and flipped through several pages. "That reminds me, I need to confirm with Edge for tomorrow."

Robin felt her heart leap at that name. She could have sworn she misheard. "Edge?" the woman repeated, attempting to keep her tone casual. Robin wondered if she sounded as shocked.

Her son nodded, oblivious to the turmoil inside of her. His dark bangs got in the way of his eyes as he glanced down to view the open page. "Yeah, he's the guy who offered his place up." Sebastian pulled his phone from his pocket and started a text message. Robin followed Sebastian's gaze and found a phone number and address written in a different handwriting than the rest of the notes. Without realizing it, she held her breath when she saw the familiar scrawl in the margins of her son's notebook.

The way the writer mixed both cursive and regular print was such a unique style that the carpenter recognized it immediately. It was both less and more legible in different ways than it had been the last time she saw his handwriting, and yet how could she not know his just as well as her own. Robin remembered it all like it was yesterday. Passing notes to each other when the teachers were not looking, the little love notes written on the foggy bathroom mirror once they lived together, and the signature on all the documents for their divorce.

It couldn't be. She had not heard from him since before Sebastian was born. Robin could feel her heart racing in her chest and wondered if he had approached her son this way on purpose or if it truly was coincidence. After all these years…

Robin put on a brave face as she memorized the lines on the page, burning them into her memory. "Sebby, if you don't leave soon, you'll be late for class."

Sebastian wolfed down the last bite of his breakfast sandwich and took a swig of his coffee to help wash it down. "You're right, I oughtta go." The young man picked up his plate and headed for the sink but Robin touched his wrist lightly.

"I'll handle that, sweetie. You get going now, okay?"

Her son bobbed his head gratefully. "Thanks!" Sebastian kissed the top of her head and awkwardly paused as he passed Demetrius. Her husband, equally confused on the status of their current relationship, offered a fist. Sebastian tapped it with his own and disappeared down the hallway and toward the front door.

Once Robin was sure that Sebastian had left, she slowly slumped forward, resting her head in her hands. "Is something wrong, Robin?" Demetrius' voice was concerned for her well-being. He must have assumed she felt ill.

"I've been looking for Jesse so long that I didn't expect that Sebastian had already found him," the woman sighed, half in relief and half in exasperation. "I can't believe that Jesse hasn't figured it out, but Sebastian might really not know who he's been talking to this whole time…"

Demetrius' lips stretched thin as he considered his wife's words. "You think this man 'Edge' is Sebastian's biological father?"

"I can't be certain without meeting him." Robin rose to her feet, pushing the chair on which she sat back with the force of her motion. She snatched up an ad from Demetrius' newspaper and scribbled down the professor's contact information before she had a chance to misremember. "But I'm going to find out for myself." He turned to her husband. "How do I find a professor's on-campus address?"

It's Wednesday, Violet realized with exasperation as she packed up the twenty-five gold-star quality vegetables for Pierre's special order. Despite the high price of pumpkins, the farmer had been generous and included a few among the batch she planned on selling to the shop keep as a courtesy to the villagers. At least then they would have the opportunity to buy local produce. Still, Violet would have to wait until tomorrow to complete the order.

Stowing the vegetables away in a chest, Violet returned to the farmhouse to clean herself up from all the mud from yesterday's rain. As she entered the house, the farmer noticed that her cell phone - which she had left on the kitchen table - rang once and then went silent. I must have just missed it.

Picking up her phone, Violet realized she had a voicemail from Robin. "Sorry, Violet. I know it's last minute, but I can't come by to finish the barn today. I'll finish it up for you as soon as I can. See you again soon."

"I hope she's feeling alright." Violet texted Robin to say it was not a problem and the barn could be finished whenever she had the time. Only then did Violet notice she had a text message from Sebastian as well.

*Hey, a professor pitched the idea of staying at his place for a year while he's away on sabbatical,* he told her. *Do you want to check it out with me? We're welcome any time after noon on Thursday or Friday.*

*It's probably better to see it tomorrow, but will that be okay? You have exams on Friday.*

Sebastian did not text back right away. He was probably on his way to ZuZu City by now. Maybe she should check on Penny?

Elliott laid in the arms of Morpheus when a fist pounded on the front door of his humble abode. He startled awake, and the man went to tidy his appearance prior to answering. He identified the woman outside by her voice, and Pamela shouted at him from outside. "I know she's in there you no-good punk, now let me in!"

The poet immediately went to the door for fear that his infuriated visitor might break it down if he did not. "Good morning, madam," Elliott greeted the mother coldly. "What brings you here at such an early hour?"

Pamela oscillated, trying to peer inside the shack beyond his disheveled form. "You know exactly why I'm here, kid," the blonde woman snapped. "I didn't see Penny come in here last night after you left the Stardrop Saloon, but I know she's shacking up with you." She tried to push past him, but Elliott blocked the portal.

"It is rude to enter another home without permission," he replied firmly. He could see the rage building in Pamela's hazel eyes and decided it was best to acquiesce to her demands, even if she was being discourteous. "However, you may search my home if it will persuade you of my innocence." He shuffled his feet to one side and allowed the woman entry.

Pamela shoved Elliott aside, despite the ample space, and began scanning the room. When she did not find evidence of her daughter's presence, the woman began to toss around Elliott's meager possessions wildly, as if hoping to find Miss Penelope hiding beneath a bed sheet or a pile of novels.

Elliott was displeased with the blatant disregard for his belongings, but he maintained the composure of a proper gentleman until Pamela wore herself out.

"Where is she?" the curly-locked woman panted, knocking a stack of books off of his desk, her tone low and hostile. "Where is my daughter?!"

The man inhaled deeply through his nose, shutting his eyes before opening them again to answer her. "Miss Penelope is safe, I can assure you, madam." Elliott counseled the woman clad in fuchsia. "I would have never abandoned her to fend for herself in such a predicament."

"Penny wasn't in any danger," she shrieked defensively. "She was in her own house!"

Elliott glanced down his nose at the mother of his beloved. "You locked her in her home against her will, madam. You may not be a malevolent villain in Miss Penelope's tale, but you are the dragon that keeps her locked in an ivory tower like a piece of shining gold among its horde."

"Enough with all this fairy tale crap!" Pamela snatched up the potted red rose which sat upon his writing desk and threw it against the wall with all her might. The shards of royal blue ceramic and bits of potting soil exploded on impact, scattering about the room as the flower fell with a heavy thud onto the floor. "Why do you get to be the good guy - the knight in shining armor - when I did everything I could to raise my girl right so she'd have a good head on her shoulders? What do I get in return?"

She turned her attention back toward Elliott, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. "Judgement! You all think I'm some psycho drunkard when all I've ever tried to do is keep Penny safe from people like her father! Rich assholes who'll use her up and toss her aside like they do to all us regular folks!"

Pamela sank to her knees in a heap on the wooden floor, either unaware of or ignoring the bits of pottery beneath her as she began to weep. "Shane got everybody rallied behind him. Where's my support? Where's my sympathy?!" The tears flowed freely from her blood-shot eyes, ruining her mascara as it formed grey lines down her face. It was now clear to Elliott that Pamela had not slept all night. "Shane's got Marnie and Jas and Emily - the whole town loves him now. But I don't have much to my name. Penny's all I've got!"

Elliott's heart was stirred by Pamela's cries of distress. He knelt beside the blonde and offered his handkerchief. The woman accepted the token and began to drain her nostrils of mucus, then folded the fabric and dabbed her eyes.

"It sounds to me that you expect all men to be scoundrels like Miss Penelope's father and all women to fall prey to them," he summarized. "Even ladies as clever as your daughter."

Elliott's lips curved slightly upward as he regarded the mother of his dearest. "I admire many things about Miss Penelope, including her cleverness. You raised her to be an intelligent woman, so I wonder why you insist she will make mistakes identical to your own."

Pamela had regained a bit of her composure, but her body still quivered like a leaf on an autumn day, threatening to break at any given moment. "Because Monty was just as pretty and charming as you, kid." Her small body palpitated slightly as she exhaled. "And I thought I was smart, too. At least until I realized all I'd been left with was a kid and a fake name. My own family wouldn't take me in once they found out what happened. They were ashamed of me."

Pamela's motives were becoming clearer to Elliott the more she spoke. While Elliott could not forgive her for what she had done to Miss Penelope, he was crestfallen on her behalf. Although she had not grown up in the same environment as he, Elliott acknowledged that Pamela held beliefs similar to that of the former aristocracy to which his family belonged.

She was too proud to lean on others and the family she had hoped to depend upon renounced her. So Pamela was forced to flail helplessly, in the hope that some kind stranger might throw her a lifeline. But it never came. No wonder she was so frightened. It was tragic that such fear caused her to lash out and harm Miss Penelope.

"It must have been quite difficult for you, madam. To raise a child on your own without the support of your family." Elliott rose to his feet and offered Pamela a hand up. "But I swear you that I am a man of honor and the reason Miss Penelope is not taking shelter in my humble home is because I would never take advantage of a lady in such a vulnerable state."

Pamela's eyes downcast guilty at his last proclamation, but she accepted his hand to hoist herself from the floor regardless. "I see…"

Elliott took Pamela's hands in his and gazed upon her. "May I be so bold as to request you trust Miss Penelope to make her own decisions rather than locking her away from the world?" The well-mannered man gave her hands a consoling squeeze. "And should your daughter make a mistake, you as her mother will be there to catch her?" The poet flashed a charming smile. "I am sure – given time for you both to heal – Miss Penelope will return home of her own accord. Perhaps then you may reconcile?"

All the steam of her fury exited her body, leaving Pamela appearing much smaller than when she entered Elliott's house. "I suppose I can give it a shot…" she muttered, pulling her hands away from him to fall at her sides. "Just as long as she's safe."

Elliott affirmed the fact but now that the worst of the situation had passed, the writer noticed the chaos of his belongings strewn about the floor. "I am afraid that I will now have to ask you to leave so that I may tidy my home."

Pamela would not have it. "No, I'll do it. I'm the one who wrecked the place." Before she could cause further damage while hunting for a broom, Elliott opened the closet and presented one. The blonde bent down and excavated the red blossoms from the mound of dirt, several of its petals lost to the carnage. "Sorry about your roses, kid."

The novelist accepted the flower by the smooth segment of the stem and admired it wistfully. "It is alright, madam. I should have been rid of it sooner, but I could not bring myself to harm a living thing."

"Looks healthy enough to me," Pam shrugged, creating a mound of the loose soil. "It might bounce right back."

"It is a cutting from the gardens wherein I first met Cassandra."

From Pamela's reaction, Elliott could tell she was aware of his ex-fiancée on some level. Perhaps the fragment of his history was in part the reason she had so vehemently objected to his presence in Miss Penelope's life. "My affection ran deeper than hers. Once my father disinherited me, my dearest Cassandra chose my brother's suit over my own."

Pamela scoffed at the confession. "Sounds like a fickle bitch if you ask me," the gruff woman commented. A silence hung in the air, with only the tapping of the dustpan into the trash. "What'd you do to get disinherited?" Pamela queried eventually.

Elliott pouted as he fastened his long locks at the nape of his neck so they would not become soiled as they cleaned. "I am still not sure of the specifics, but my father made unsavory comments about my mother as he did so."

"No wonder you moved here. The whole lot of 'em sound like a piece of work."

Humming in agreement, Elliott replied. "I suppose all families have their dysfunctions, madam. But as they are family, I am expected to return to NuNu City for the wedding come the end of Winter."

Pamela glanced his way curiously. "What wedding?"

"The nuptials between my brother Edmund and my former fiancée, Cassandra."

His guest physically recoiled. "If I were you, I wouldn't go even if they paid me." She began to sweep up the splinters of royal blue ceramic. "They're just trying to rub it in your face."

"I was of the same mind until recently," Elliott professed. "But ever since Penelope agreed to consider my suit, I have found myself quite content with my lot in life. And it is said that the best vengeance is to live so well that those that did you wrong never cross your mind again."

The curly-haired woman sniffed with a mixture of amusement and disgust. "So you're gonna take my Penny to the big city as your plus one?"

"I have not extended the invitation as of yet," Elliott disclosed, tossing a few of the larger shards of pottery into the waste bin. "But I had hoped to get your approval before I solicited Miss Penelope for an answer."

Pamela huffed in annoyance. "No wonder Penny fell for you, you're so damn polite." Setting down the cleaning supplies, she made her excuses. "I've gotta get to work," the blonde woman justified her leave. She lingered in the doorway. "Tell Penny I won't bother her again until she decides she's ready." Pamela bit her lip and swallowed her pride to offer her apologies. "Sorry for the mess. Let me know what I can do to make it up to ya."

Elliott watched the woman go and decided the interior condition of his home was well worth the outcome. Perhaps Pamela would come around in her own time as well. All Elliott needed was patience - and prided himself on such virtues.

Andi walked down the crowded main hallway of the building and turned down the corridor that led to a wing of professors' offices. The place was a maze, but the student knew the pathway like the back of her hand now. Jay had firmly set boundaries about what Andi was allowed to do in terms of thanking him for his help getting her a scholarship to cover on-campus housing, but he never explicitly forbade her from visiting him during office hours.

While she no longer needed an older man to get her away from her life at home, Andi still enjoyed chatting with Jay. He was a total dork, but he was not condescending like a lot of the upperclassmen and old professors. Usually they just talked about music or movies, though Jay's tastes were definitely stuck in the 80s.

She heard from one of the third years in her program that Jay was going on sabbatical at the end of the term, so Andi knew she only had so many chances left to speak to him. She got a job through the university library, which would allow her to stay in her new dorm over the Winter term. Things were working out and she wanted to make sure to give Jay a good send-off present before he left to go wherever the hell he was going. She bribed a third-year in one of her gen-ed courses to buy a particular brand of whiskey Jay mentioned once. Andi wanted to end things with the professor on a high note.

Her dark eyes peered around the corner to see if there was anybody around. Andi did not want to be caught with the whiskey by anyone since she was underage. The other office doors were shut and no light poured out from the interiors, so the young woman presumed they were empty. But the light was on in Jay's office and the door was slightly ajar. When she got closer, however, the teenager heard voices from within.

"... tell him the truth, Jesse." It was a woman. Huh. Was "Jay" short for "Jesse?" Andi had always assumed his name was James or something equally common.

"I owe you both… repay in a dozen lifetimes." It was definitely Jay's talking, but the words faded in and out from emotional strain. "... terrible… should have believed… too late now."

The woman, who Andi decided was not a student from her power of speech, spoke more clearly. "It's never too late to try, Jesse! Please, just tell our son -!" She was cut off by something, maybe Jay had interrupted. There was a long, almost painful tremble as the words spilled out. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" She was crying now and Andi felt like she had heard too much, even if she was not entirely sure what it all meant. Had Jay lied to everyone about his family? Why?

There were too many unanswered questions from the fragments of the conversation. However, the student decided now was a good time to make her escape. Now that the woman was crying, she might burst out of the room at any moment and Andi did not want to be caught eavesdropping, especially on such a personal conversation.

"It's better this way," Andi heard her mentor's voice crack. He sounded so hurt that it broke his heart and she could not bear to hear more. A flash of red hair caught Andi's onyx eyes in the slit of the open door as she turned her heels to retreat. She would have to come back later.

Maru sat on the floor of Harvey's apartment, tinkering away at her latest invention when the doorbell downstairs in the clinic rang. The inventor strode over to the intercom. "Clinic hours are over. Is this an emergency?"

"Hey, Glasses." It was Alex. "I'm here to pick you up for dinner."

"Oh! Hi, Alex. Come on in!" She buzzed him into the building and gave him instructions to come upstairs through the intercom. "I want to show you something first." As he crested the stairs, Maru greeted him at the door and welcomed him inside, reclaiming her spot in front of her new machine.

"I've been working on a new project…" Maru informed her friend as he sat down on the other side of the metallic dome that would serve as the "heart" of her newest invention. She was on an accomplishment high, giddy with pride that all her hard work was finally coming together. The inventor leaned forward slightly, "Something big."

Alex smirked. "Oh, yeah?" He tipped his head toward the device. "Is this it here?"

"This is just one component of a larger whole," Maru explained, making a few minor adjustments with her screwdriver. "Let me show you a little demonstration."

"Just put your hand here…" Alex placed his palm on the protruding knob as she indicated. "And now I'm going to flip this switch…"

Click! The jock jumped, as if struck by lightning and Maru's heart sank when she realized her mistake. Alex had been electrocuted!

"Oh my god, are you alright?!" she rushed to Alex, who had fallen to the floor. He looked up at her, dazed, but bobbed his head to indicate his condition.

After blinking a few times, Alex's eye came back into focus. "Was it supposed to do that?" the athlete inquired with a goofy grin. If he was well enough to tease her, Alex was probably okay. Maru tried to help him to his feet, but he hissed and recoiled when he closed his hand around hers.

"No, of course not." The two sank back down to the floor and Maru inspected his hands. The lump in her stomach only burrowed deeper when she spied the nasty burn on his right hand. She grabbed a pillow from the nearby bed and propped up his head. "I'll be right back, don't move!" Maru ordered Alex, her nursing training kicking in as she ran downstairs to retrieve some salve and bandages.

When she returned, Alex still laid on the floor where she left him. Maru quickly knelt beside the spiky-haired man and opened a tube of thick, white medicinal cream. "Here, let me apply this to the burn."

This time, Alex did not withdraw his hand, but Maru could tell he was in pain from the flexing of his masseter muscle and the clenched state of his angular jawbone. "I'm so sorry," the scientist apologized meekly, feeling so low after causing her friend bodily harm. Especially on his hand, which he would now need to heal before he could throw a ball again! What had she done?

"It's okay, it doesn't even hurt." Alex comforted her, though she could tell he was lying to spare her feelings. Still, Maru did not want to give away the fact that she saw through his act.

"Oh, no?" she echoed and gripped his left hand appreciatively. "Well, that makes me feel a little better, then. Thanks." Alex smiled at her, but Maru still felt awful for hurting her friend.

"That kind of ruined the moment, huh?" She sighed as she opened a hatch to inspect what went wrong. Maru had hoped to show Alex some cool experiments using the charging element. Her chestnut orbs scanned the innards of her machine, searching for the flaw that electrocuted Alex. The casing was cracked. She must have handled it too roughly at some point. Or perhaps the temperature changed too rapidly when she transported it from her room at home to the clinic through the brisk autumn weather outside.

"It's okay, we have to get going anyway," Alex assured her gently. "Gramps is going to get cranky if we keep him waiting much longer.

Maru nodded, still downcast, but tried her best to shift her focus toward dinner. She grabbed a bundle of bandages and the remainder of the burn cream, offering it to Alex, who accepted it gratefully. She then ran over to the kitchen down the hall to grab her gift for George.

"Did you bake something?" Alex asked, eyeing the brightly-wrapped box curiously. "It's kind of tall and narrow for a cake," he remarked aloud, trying to get a better view of the object.

"Astute observation, Sirius!" Maru tucked the box away in her bag and winked at him. "But you'll have to wait. I don't want anyone spoiling it for George." She was determined to have at least one surprise go well this evening.

George leaned back in his wheelchair, admiring the empty plates of food in front of him. Evelyn had outdone herself again this year and Alex helped her, which made things extra special. His grandson had taken the bus all the way to the city to get some of his favorites for dinner. A fall harvest salad with pomegranate seeds, blackberries, and pumpkin seeds with a hearty leek and potato soup.

They even had a guest to join the celebration for the first time in years. Maru was a good kid. Kind of hard to talk to sometimes with all her educated words, but she was so personable that the kid made you forget how dumb you were by comparison. Hell, she had even given him a fancy bottle of capsaicin oil. Supposedly that was the stuff in the peppers that relieved the joint pains he experienced and would last a lot longer than a fresh pepper. Sure enough, the darn stuff worked wonders. It was such a considerate gift, George was a bit taken aback. Maru had even taken extra care to check his blood pressure with a different cuff this morning at his seasonal appointment. The other one was too scratchy. Who knew the young miss paid so much mind to the words of a crotchety old guy like him?

George observed Maru and Alex add the candles to the rainbow carrot cake that Evelyn baked this morning. He had been waiting to eat it all day and even after he had stuffed his face full of healthy food, George knew he could make room for a few bites of birthday cake. He saw how many candles the kids were putting on the cake. "That's plenty!" he complained with a good-natured chuckle. "I'd need too many and the wax would get all over the cream cheese frosting by the time we got them all lit!"

His grandson teased him right back. "You just want us to stop at eighteen!" Alex accused him with a laugh. "You can't be younger than me, Gramps."

George grunted. "I'd settle to be in my forties again!"

Evelyn beamed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What's wrong with eighteen, George? I remember those days quite fondly."

"Yeah, those were the days…" The guest of honor smiled sadly, reminiscing days long gone. The ex-miner contemplated the loved ones who would not celebrate another birthday. Herschel. Clara. She had looked so much like him, that it added an additional layer to the loss when she died. Both his best friend and his daughter lost their lives far too early to be fair. George's eyes flickered toward Alex. He only hoped it was not a family curse. His solitary brush with magic had been enough to last a lifetime.

George concentrated on the people around him, their eyes flickering in the light of the candles as they sang "Happy Birthday." They did not sound half-bad. "Make a wish, George." His wife nudged him gently, so they could eat the cake before the candles speckled the cake with bright dots of colored wax.

His lips stretched back toward the sides of his wrinkled face and he took a deep breath and blew from his lips with all his might. Thin streamers of smoke rose from the dessert, save for one candle that remained lit with a tiny flame.

"Oh, you missed one, George!" Evelyn pointed out.

One last time... George thought to himself as he quickly snuffed it out between his dampened fingertips. The man then beamed at the trio watching him expectantly and picked up the cake cutter from the tabletop. "Now who wants the first slice?"

Author's Note: Congrats to the readers who caught on to the right clues. You know who you are. ;)

Some of you may be wondering why George mentioned magic. When Alex asked about it, he laughed, right? Oh, sweet summer child.

In the wise words of a TV doctor that I actually haven't watched in over a decade: "EVERYBODY LIES. The only variable is about what."