Chapter 5: Dittany
"We have a problem."
The words did not break Victoria Shaw's concentration as she swung her club with expert precision at the unassuming little white ball on the tee, sitting in the manicured grass. With a clack the ball ascended into the air, arced, and fell onto an advantageous spot on the green way. Only now that she saw the destination did she join her husband's gaze upon the two young women behind her. One was shorter, with jet black hair tied back into a long braid and a predatory look in her eyes. Her companion was taller with chocolate skin and a characteristic scowl that never seemed to fade.
Her husband, a handsome man in his early fifties handed his club to his caddy and asked, "What sort of problem Miss Ruthway?"
"The girls have a guardian," Madison deadpanned.
"Well yes, Mallory's husband is still alive, is he not? You can certainly get rid of-" her husband began, but was cut off.
"Not that sort of guardian. They have a protector," the taller woman said.
"Is it an Auror, Miss James?" Victoria asked, adjusting the visor on her head and taking off her sunglasses. Despite the heat beaming down from the cloudless sky, no sweat spots appeared on her white golfing outfit. Her husband was equally clean.
"No, it's a guild member," explained Madison.
"Oh, your own?" Victoria inquired.
Gertrude, or as Madison called her, Gerry, shook her head. "No, he's from the Crystal Coyotes. They do a lot of artifact recovery, less bounty hunting than us. This one, however, has an impressive kill count. Most of them were accidents, but many consider him dangerous, and he has the largest bounty on his head in the country. There were rumors he was captured last fall, but I bet that was Mallory recruiting him for this job. She knew her time was short."
Victoria frowned and looked at her husband Rufus, who in turn glanced back at her. "If the Aurors are some sort of police force, like Victoria explained to me, why not put something like a deputy in charge of guarding her children?" he asked in a drawling voice.
Madison answered this time. "Because she's cunning. She knows that her Aurors are great at tracking dark wizards, but not the greatest at hiding. They're great at protecting themselves, but not always other people. They're used to being the predator, not the prey. He's used to being both."
"And who is he, exactly?" Victoria queried.
"Tarian Wilhelm Fischer. He and I were both in Horned Serpent at Ilvermorny. He was a year below me. All the Crystal Coyotes go by trade names, and his is Tod. He comes from a family of Aurors. In fact, his parents and older brother are still on the force. He disappeared about a year after graduation, and his parents and brother never talk about him, like he never existed or something. From what I remember he was always a bit of a dark horse. Only one in his family that had been sorted into something other than Wampus since Ilvermorny was founded. If I recall correctly, he received an honor for inventing a few new charms while he was still at school- they were his best subject by far. He sucked at herbology though," Gertrude answered.
"I think the Krays may be working with him as well," Madison added. "They were two years below me in Thunderbird. They were always full of themselves. Their real identities are Takeo and Daisuke Watanabe, sons of the Japanese Liaison at MACUSA. Their older sister was in my year, and she was always one of the good girls." She rolled her eyes in distaste. "Anyway, all I remember from them is being the center of attention and being useful on the quidditch pitch. I think they were both chasers. Their identities are still fairly secret, and I doubt their parents even know what they're doing."
"Hmmm," Victoria murmured, resting her nimble weight on her club. "It doesn't sound like we can black mail them. Any chance of defeating them? Paying them off maybe?"
At this, Gerry almost smiled. "I have an idea. It will just take a little bit of time to brew."
"Excellent," Rufus smiled, as if he had just closed an important business deal.
"Time is running out for my son Miss James. For his sake, as well as your own, I do hope it works, so that we may soon be free of this curse," Victoria added, her veiled threat travelling on a tone that one would associate with the exchanging of recipes.
Although confused by the remark, Gertrude took that as their cue to leave, turned with Madison, walked a few paces, and disappeared from the golf course.
David was unsure of when it happened, but suddenly his life was a little bit less chaotic. Every day he had been carrying his broken heart around with him, and never seemed to get a moment's peace in order to fully deal with it. Instead, he had been throwing himself at his work, and had racked up so many cars sold at the used dealership that he was reasonably sure that his Employee of the Quarter bonus was not entirely a pitying move by his superiors. Time seemed to slip away from him, going through the motions, moving through the chaos in his own personal fog, unable to emotionally engage with anything, until one particular evening.
He had come home from work, now in the daylight with the lengthening days of the month of May. And as he sat at the table, the girls chittering around him and Tod serving up soup, he put a spoonful to his mouth and realized that for the first time in such a long time, his food tasted good.
For the past month and a half, since Tod had come to stay with them, David had come accustomed to the other man's poor cooking skills. Burned meat, overdone vegetables, and David had simply gone with it. He didn't have the energy to engage in finding another, better nanny.
But this soup was not only hot and delicious, but it smacked of something familiar. Looking down at his dish, he tried to figure out what it was. Chunks of beef floated around in a flavorful broth, accompanied by green beans, carrots, and corn. White dumplings completed the picture by floating on the surface like fluffy pillows.
"Did you use mom's recipe?" Fern asked as Tod was helping Daisy not to burn her mouth by putting an ice cube in her hot soup.
"I think so. Your little sister found the book on the shelf in the family room and brought it over. I thought I would try my hand at it."
"It tastes like hers," she said softly.
"No it doesn't," spat Hyacinth. "Mom's was better."
Fern looked at her but didn't argue. David had to agree with his eldest. It tasted just like his Lory's, and the thought of it brought sudden tears to his eyes. Standing abruptly from the kitchen table, all the girls, as well as Tod looked at him. "Bathroom," he murmured and headed straight through the family room and up the stairs. Reaching the master bedroom, he closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob as tears left his eyes in droves. Why was he crying? It was just soup!
But it wasn't just soup. It had tasted just like hers, and in doing so it had opened the floodgate of emotions David had set on the backburner to deal for a later date. This boy…this nanny…had brought them to the front. Laying down for several moments, David thought about her and allowed himself to cry. He missed her so much. She had been a terrible cook when they started dating too, but by the time Fern was born she'd developed some solid recipes. The soup had been her favorite, and if he recalled, Fern's favorite as well. He remembered catching her writing them down with a quill and ink, how he had gently teased her about it, wondering how hard it was for her to just remember a few ingredients and shoving them into a pot. He remembered her eyes crinkling with her smile, her golden tresses dancing in the light of the kitchen as she stuck her tongue out at him.
He missed her radiant face, her odd quirks, her loving demeanor, her fierceness for life. She was all that was bright and good in the world and he would never hold her, or call her his own again. He had always suspected that it was too good, that their happily ever after wasn't something he had ever deserved in his life. He was just a shy, lowly used car salesman. She was everything to him. And now she was gone.
A soft knock at the door made him hastily blow his nose and wipe his eyes. He was surprised to see Tod cautiously peering in as he opened the door. They locked eyes and David instantly felt some shame. It would be so obvious that he had been crying. A few emotions flashed a crossed the caretaker's face.
"You miss her," he stated softly, a surprising lack of pity in his voice.
"Everyday," David found himself answering.
Tod nodded in understanding. "I thought my cooking might have done you in again. I brought you up some milk and Oreos in case you were still hungry," he said, setting the plate and glass he had carried onto the dresser by the door. "You should talk to your daughters. They miss her too," he said before shutting the door gently behind him.
After retuning downstairs, Tod found Hyacinth leading Daisy up the stairs to get washed up. Idly making plans to clean up from dinner and then go cast the defenses on the house before tucking everyone in. Rinsing the last of the dishes (he hadn't dared to try the dishwasher yet), he stuck them on the rack next to the sink, and drew his wand from his pocket. The sliding glass door lead out of the kitchen and into the backyard, and Tod was just about to check on his charms when in the shadows of the dying day he saw a small figure sitting on the edge of the patio.
He had assumed that Fern had beaten her sisters upstairs to clean up before bed, but apparently, she had not. Instead, she sat at the end of the concrete slab with a small pot in her hand with something low and green sprouting from it. Sliding the wand back into the pocket of his leather jacket, he sat down next to her. Immediately he realized something was not quite right.
"What's wrong Fern?"
Typically the shyest of the bunch, she shrugged and looked at her plant. Why couldn't girls ever be direct?
"What kind of plant do you have?"
Another shrug. "I don't know. It was Mom's. It's just…the soup…"
Tod sighed. Another person crying over soup.
"I'm sorry I made it. I didn't mean to upset you."
"You didn't!" Fern rushed, looking flustered. "I just…I miss her a lot." She paused for a beat. "We used to come out here in the summer and garden together. Dr. Chezny used to look over at all our flowers and plants and say we had the prettiest gardens in all the bay area. She said she was going to teach me about herbs this year." Fat tears rolled silently down over her freckles.
Tod didn't doubt that she was going to teach her herbs, but probably not basil or parsley. And with magic like theirs, it was unsurprising that it manifested in well grown plants. Putting a hand on her head affectionately he said in a lowered voice, "It sounds like you and your mom had very green thumbs. Can I see your plant?"
Wordlessly she handed it over. Herbology was always his worst subject, but even he remembered what dittany looked like. He even remembered having to write an essay in his first year on all the different uses of it. Now he kept a small bottle with him in his trunk when he was wounded during a job, because its essence was healing, and even eating the leaves would help heal moderate cuts.
"This is dittany," he announced, handing it back to her.
"How did you know?"
"I know a little bit," he said in mock offense. "Probably not as much as you and your mother, but I know a few things about plants."
Looking at him with large wondering eyes for the first time instead of pity, Fern asked, "Can you teach me?"
Tod felt a warm sensation blossom in his chest. "I'll tell you what: I have a book with all sorts of herbs and fungi in it. We'll take a look at it and pick a few that we can grow here this summer. Ok?"
Nearly dropping her dittany, Fern tackled him, grinning and squeezing him so hard he thought he felt a rib displace. With a wide smile she wiped her eyes and bounced up from her seat, then grabbed his hand to pull him up. Instead of letting go, she continued to hold it and drag him inside, asking all the while, "Can we plant more dittany? What about roses? Cauliflower?"
Shortly after Tod had left the milk and cookies, David got up, chiding himself for losing his composure like that. Instead his mind switched to his suspicions. Why had he chosen Tod as a nanny again? Every time he tried to think of the reason, he couldn't come up with one, and when he tried to remember their meeting, it was rather blank. His food was improving, but something still seemed off, as if the younger man were waiting for something to happen. And how could someone become a nanny if they didn't even know how to cook?
Peering out the bedroom door, he heard the two younger girls in the bathroom, hyacinth helping her sister brush her teeth. Walking quietly to the end of the hall he opened the door to Tod's room. The nightlight on the end table lit the pink room, which looked only slightly more lived in with Tod's trunk next to the dresser. It looked as normal as could be. Looking back to the hallway to make sure Tod wasn't coming, he inspected the small room. Tod had taken a few things out of his trunk and set them on the dresser, but they looked ordinary enough; a comb, a book mark, some stationary, and little figurine of a wolf or coyote cut from glass. On the dresser sat a book titled 'Determined Defenses: The best charms for hiding your haunts!' by Brock Hardshield. Picking up the aged book to get a closer look, something small and silvery tumbled from between the pages.
Leaning down, his heart lurched into his throat as he picked up a tiny diamond pendent suspended on a silver chain. This had been Mallory's. He distinctly remembered seeing it in the jewelry store last fall, and instantly thinking of his wife, had given to her as an anniversary present shortly before she had gotten sick. Why would Tod have this? He had thought Lory had been buried with it! He needed to confront him at once!
Upon hearing the young man's voice out the window, he stuck his head out in preparation of summoning him, but instead saw that he was not alone. Looking down from his vantage point he witnessed the plant conversation, the way he had comforted his eldest, how her smile lit up like it hadn't in months. The words caught in his throat and he paused. He couldn't yell and scream at the man who had given his daughter's smile back. No. He was a rational man. Maybe Tod had found it? There had to an explanation.
Slipping the pendent into the back pocket of his pants, David slipped from the room just in time to see Tod coming up the stairs with Fern, his eldest grinning, and the softest expression David had ever seen on man's face.
"You get cleaned up and I'll meet you in your room to read a little bit before bed," Tod said, Fern running to the bathroom as her sisters exited, nearly colliding with one another. "Feeling better?" Tod asked him as they skirted around each other and the chaos in the hall.
"Yes, thank you."
"No problem. I'll let you tuck in Daisy ok?"
David nodded, and watched the slim back retreat into the little pink bedroom. Who exactly did he hire?