Lily Halloway's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Lily stood outside the bar and stared at the floating neon sign. Mama's Magical Drinks glowed above the door. Her wings twitched behind her, restless. Eleanor had sworn Clayton was different. But Lily had heard that before. Every man wanted the wings, not her. She pressed a hand to her stomach and told herself to walk in. Instead she froze. If she went in like this, jumpy and doubting, she'd ruin it before he said a word. A voice cut through her nerves. "You're blocking my door, honey." The woman behind her wore a purple cloak and a smooth white mask. Long black hair spilled over her shoulders. This was Mama La Croix, the barkeep who brewed drinks from things she'd never name. She held the door open with one gloved hand. "Come in or don't. But decide." Lily stepped inside. Mama studied her, then set a glass on the counter. The drink glowed white and blue, threaded with silver. "On the house," Mama said. "You look like you're fixing to run." "I might," Lily admitted. "I don't know if he's real. If he means it." Mama slid the glass closer. "Then find out, baby. Don't guess from the doorway." She turned back to her bottles. The subject was closed. Lily carried the drink to the corner table. Clayton sat waiting, cowboy hat set beside him, sleeves rolled to show his tattoos. He rose when he saw her. His eyes went to her face first, not her wings. Something in her chest loosened. "You came," he said. "Wasn't sure you would." She sat. "I almost didn't." She took a breath and asked the first real question. "Eleanor said you're building a fence. How's it going?" "Northeast corner won't hold a post. Reset it three times." He shrugged. "I'll finish it." Lily smiled and tried again. "And do you like the work? The ranch?" He was already talking about the soft ground, the post driver his neighbor lent him. Her question slid past unanswered. She let it go and asked another. "What do you do when you're not working?" "Fence eats most of my hours," he said, and told her about the spring rains. Lily sipped the glowing drink and watched him. He was kind. He never once stared at her wings. But every question she asked came back to the fence, to the ranch, to him. He didn't ask what tired her. He didn't ask about the boy who touched her wing. The clear head Mama's drink gave her showed the truth. Clayton wasn't cruel. He just had no room for her. An hour later she set the empty glass down. "Clayton. You're a good man. But this isn't going to work." His face fell. He nodded slow. "Figured maybe. No hard feelings." He picked up his hat. "Friends, then?" "Friends," she said, and meant it. She walked out steady, sure of one thing now. She knew exactly what she was still looking for.