Adagio Dazzle frowned, picking at her purse clasp with just her thumb and pinky as snow fell around her. Her fingers were getting cold already and starting to shake while she held her glove between her teeth to keep it clean. The clasp came loose and she spread the little purse open to grab a wet wipe. She only had a few left, which meant another trip to the discount store soon enough. She wiped her hand quickly, clearing away the mess before it dried and caked and got under her nails. She hated it when that happened.
The used wet wipe ended up crumpled on the allyway’s asphalt along with other unmentionable refuse. Adagio worked her glove back on over stiff fingers and reached into her her coat pocket, pulling out a bundle of even more crumpled small bills. She glanced around quickly, then flipped through the wad, counting up her earnings in ones and fives. The weather was really messing with her income. There were a lot of people out shopping, enjoying the snow and the rapidly approaching holidays. It seemed like a good idea to hit up the market, take advantage of the crowds and their cash with plenty of places to duck into out of general sight. But in practice, it hadn’t played out in her favor. Lack of warm, dry, places to lay down limited her to small ticket services, and the number of families out and about put her usual patrons in the mood to not want to take her back to their place.
She was either going to need to raise her prices or head off to the slightly warmer subway. Neither option really appealed to her.
Adagio slipped the bills, smoothed and ordered, into one of the inner pockets of her long coat and took a moment to brush accumulated flakes out of her hair before walking out to the end of the alley. The main road was closed to through traffic, the street filled with holiday shoppers and pop-up stands of dozens of vendors. Everything from designer purses to the ‘must have’ stuffed toy to literal hotcakes and cider was on sale. Adagio stuck close to the buildings, taking advantage of the awnings to keep more of the white stuff off her. People of all ages swept past her without really paying any attention. She was just another face in the crowd. Maybe a pretty one, but hardly anyone looked twice.
Those that did were almost uniformly of a certain type. As the day slowly came to a close, they were starting to multiply, all in a stressed out rush to get that last minute gift and willing to pay cash for it. Some of them were willing to pay cash to relieve the stress of winter shopping too.
Just not enough of them.
Adagio looked around, hands in her pockets. The vendors near her were starting to notice her presence. Looks passed between them, their brows creased as they no doubt started to wonder why she was hanging around and not buying anything. Why she disappeared every now and then for a few minutes at a time. It was time to move to another nook before someone got the bright idea to call the police. She turned and walked down the street, vering out into the human traffic and doing her best impression of a respectable girl out looking for a gift for that special someone. Or maybe a new purse to replace the shabby thing hanging from her shoulder.
Adagio passed the stalls with the jewelry and watches, her eyes barely wandering. Same with the clothing and personal goods. She did hover a little around the purses, but only for a moment before moving on. The prices were too steep. Something leather with a designer clasp would be nice, but she didn’t want to starve for the next month recouping a vanity purchase. Her wrist wouldn’t survive it, that was for sure. Hefting her bag higher, Adagio moved on toward the lower end shops and food stands. Her stomach could use a real meal soon, grumbling as the smells of seasonal sweets drifted past her nose to remind her of how distant breakfast had been.
“Adagio Dazzle?”
Adagio skid to a stop between the pumpkin spice vendor and a stall covered in small cakes, jolting out of her thoughts at the sound of her name. Standing straight, stiff with tension, she turned slowly and as casually as she could fake. Behind her, down a different row, an unfortunately familiar face greeted her with a tipped back cowgirl hat. Adagio scowled, her shoulders sagging with relief that she’d been called out by a former high school student instead of the cops.
“It is you!” Applejack—freckled towhead, avid bassist, and vendor of holiday ciders—grinned and waved her hand beckoningly at Adagio. “Never thought I see one of you sirens again, let alone out shopping. Guess you’re a just a normal person these days, huh? Even magical sea monsters gotta find gifts like everyone else.”
“Shhh!” Adagio hissed, looking around quickly to see if anyone around them was paying attention. A few passerbys glanced their way, but none of them seemed interested in lingering. Stomping over the ice cold asphalt, Adagio closed in on the Apple stand. “Keep your voice down, you idiot! I don’t want to draw any attention here.”
Applejack turned her head back and forth, looking up and down the market. “Ain’t no one paying us a lick of mind, sugarcube.” She hooked her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans and threw her shoulders back. “‘Course, that could change if folks thought you were being too open about doing your work out behind the dumpsters. Gossip travels pretty fast in a open air market, Adagio, so I done heard all about it. You can thank the Christmas spirit, or me, for stopping some of the more...traditional...sellers from calling you out.”
Adagio sneered, snarling under her breath. “Fuck.”
“Hey now,” Applejack smiled, “I don’t mean nothing to shame you or anything. I just thought you should know before there really was an unfortunate scene.”
“Thanks...I guess.” Adagio took a deep breath and ran her gloved hand through her curly hair. “You didn’t need to do that. I was...uh...thinking of packing up anyway. Turnout has been pretty low and it’s getting colder.”
“Ain’t it though? Snow’s real pretty looking at least.” Applejack glanced up at the cloudy sky for a moment and then reached out to pat Adagio on the shoulder. “Since you’re all closed up, howzabout I interest you in a pie? Or some hot wassail? My treat.” She gestured toward the back of the stall where a large heater kept a dozen pies steaming in the cool air and a crockpot warmed a dark liquid amid stacks of other fresh winter produce and baked goods. “My granny’s wassail recipe will fill you with the holidays and a near lethal dose of cinnamon! Guaranteed to chase away the chill!”
Adagio raised an eyebrow at the offer. “Nothing is free. Why should I?”
“Honestly?” Applejack shrugged. “You’re technically someone I know from school, so that makes you a friend now that the whole magic mind control stuff is behind us. Plus, you’re a working girl down on her luck at the moment. I might not have ever done your particular type of work, but I know how that goes, and a warm place to rest and some good food in your belly goes a long way toward making the world all right again.”
Adagio stood her ground. She started to turn on her booted heel and walk away from the stall and Applejack’s offer, then the smell hit her and her stomach rumbled loud and traitorously. The farmer just smiled wider. Adagio hated the girl a little right then and there. But she was hungry and cold.
And free food was free food.
Adagio sighed, feeling defeated, and stepped in under Applejack’s awning. There was a stool in the back. Nothing fancy, but it got her off her feet. The heating lamp glowed like an angry bonfire and was just as hot, making the little corner she found herself in a vast improvement over the alley. The pie Applejack slipped her was hot and crisp, the wassail hearty and spicy. Before she knew it, all her anger and aggravation evaporated and she relaxed for what felt like the first time in a very long time indeed. The farmer didn’t even hover over her, but drifted back to the front, barking out her wares to the good folk doing their shopping as the light grew dimmer. The murmur of voices, the ring of sales and muffled scratching when a pie was slid to a customer cradled her while the dull warmth from the heater blanketed her, easing tension Adagio didn’t even realize she was holding. Her stomach stopped complaining and she leaned back...until she was startled awake by a light kick to her shoe.
“Hmm..what?” Adagio blinked heavy eyelids, shivering as cold air swirled around her and snuck up the folds of her long coat over her long legs. The heater had been shut off. The stacked produce cleared from the tables and the the whole stall was bathed in the amber light of street lamps. Just outside the stall and its cloth cover, the snow was coming down hard on a practically deserted market. Between her and the snow, Applejack stood, hands in the pockets of a poofy quilted jacket and another kind smile on that freckled face.
“Time to close up and head home, sleepyhead.”
“Oh…” Adagio groaned and stretched out her stocking covered calves, “is it that late already? I was just resting my eyes.”
“You looked like you could use the rest, so I let you be.” Applejack looked back over her shoulder for a moment. “You, uh, got a place to go to, Adagio? If not, there’s always room for one more at Sweet Apple Acres. You can ride with me in the truck.”
“I don’t need your pity.” Adagio frowned, looking away from Applejack and smoothing her jacket down. The snow looked like it was going on ankle deep and she knew the strap pumps she was wearing weren’t going to get her far. She had a place to go, she wouldn’t call it a ‘home,’ but it was likely warmer than another night outdoors. She had some chinese food left over from her last good night. Heating it in the microwave would keep her going through tomorrow.
She could always try the subways tomorrow.
Shaking her head, Adagio leaned forward to get up and was surprised when Applejack took her hand and helped her to her feet. The farmer smirked at her.
“It ain’t pity, it’s community. It’s the right thing to do.” Applejack shrugged, flushing a bit as she did so. “Plus, Granny has been working on dinner all day. Even after all these years, she still makes enough food to feed all of us combined plus Ma an’ Pa. So really, it’d be killing two birds with one stone. You get a nice place to crash and I have less leftovers to try and find space for in the fridge.”
Adagio felt her lip curl into a snarl. She was not some charity case. She was a Siren and she still had her pride. She was a shark among seals in this place and she didn’t need a handout. Adagio opened her mouth to spit out her retort, to tell the human where she could shove that humiliating offer before leaving and hopefully never seeing that freckled face again. For all her vitriol though, she couldn’t find the words. Pride and practicality took up opposing sides of her thoughts, throwing out pros and cons to every way she could think of this going.
“Look, Adagio, I’m not trying to put you on the spot. You can say no, if you want.” Applejack shrugged again, her shoulders sinking further the second time around. “I mean it though, this ain’t out of pity, or some misguided attempt to fix you or something. From one person to another, I just want to share the abundances I am afforded. Namely a warm house with an extra bed, and more food than I can eat.” Applejack folded her arms in front of herself, the material of her jacket crinkling faitly. “Heck, if ya want, look at it like any old transaction. Yer providing a service, and I’m paying in pies and pot roast.”
Adagio clicked her teeth together with a snap. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be overflowing with gratitude. Appearances aside, I’m not a homeless street walker or anything.”
“The other two of yours gonna miss you?”
Adagio rolled her eyes, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face. “No. We’re...taking a break from each other right now. Keeps the homicidal rage in check.” To her surprise, Applejack chuckled at that.
“I get ya. There are times I wish I could legally toss members of my family out a window. But...if those two aren’t going to need you to make a call or anything, you mind helping my load up? I’ll throw in an extra roll with the roast.” Applejack jabbed her chin at the remaining produce and cider in scuffed milk crates at the back of the stall.
“Make it two.” Adagio showed her teeth.
“Done!”
Twenty minutes later found them rolling down a country lane, slow and quiet, the snow starting to cover the roads again in the extra light evening traffic. Applejack’s headlights illuminated the falling snow more than it did the road anyway, which made Adagio feel the girl was driving more by pure muscle memory than actually seeing where they were going. The radio was off, leaving them to a muffled engine hum and the squeak of the truck’s old shocks.
“I should have demanded three rolls.”
“You’ll probably get that or more, sugarcube. Granny don’t know her own strength when it comes to over cooking for the holidays.” Applejack grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She kept them locked on the narrow path of black winding through the white on white background. They crested the last hill at the speed of a spirited jog, slowing as they came to the turn off into Sweet Apple Acres. An old faded sign and mailbox the only evidence of long earthen drive. “I’ll pull us into the barn, then we just need to make it to the porch without slipping. You gonna make it in those heels, or should I grab some galoshes?”
Adagio looked down toward the floorboards, twisting her ankle until the wane light glinted off the pleather skin of her shoes. They made her legs seem longer and more elegant and were comfortable enough. The shoes, however, weren’t made for making one’s way through snow on rough ground. She planted her feet again, and watched more of the snow build up on the sagging branches of the orchard around them. “I’ll make it.”
“Suit yerself.” Applejack reached forward and flipped off the brights as the truck rounded the bend in the drive, her family home and its attendant buildings looming out of the gloom. The beams flashed across the windows of the farmhouse before bouncing through the ruts until they filled the yawning doorway into the barn garage. She pulled in and before she could kill the engine, the interior lights of the barn came on, illuminating the space more. “Oh good, someone noticed us coming in. This’ll be easier than in the dark.”
Adagio grumbled something next to her, but Applejack ignored it and finished parking, easing the truck in next to the tractor. Then she was out and heading for the door.
“What about...your things from the market?” Adagio glanced at the crates in the truck bed as she followed, the tarp covering them dusted with the white stuff.
Applejack waved her off and grabbed one of the double doors and dragged it through the little drifts built up to throw it shut. “Leave that for tomorrow. The cold aint gonna hurt it too much in here. But it is making me a might annoyed, so let’s step it up and out of here.” She flashed another smile and gestured at the house like a gameshow host. “Let me lock up and we’ll get some supper.”
By the time she had the stubborn latch in place and gave the barn doors a testing rattle, Applejack turned to see Adagio practically to the porch steps. Those orange curls waving with each wobbly step forward. Heels in the yard weren’t a safe bet anytime she tried it out. Nearly lost a tooth the last time and that was on a clear day in the summer. Admirable as Adagio’s progress and stupidly dogged determination were, Applejack just knew the girl was going get herself acquainted with the farm face (or ass) first any moment now.
Tugging her hat down tight on her brow, Applejack launched into a broken jog to catch up, kicking up snow with each long stride. As she feared, Adagio’s heels found Ol’ Unreliable, the bottom step up to the ancient porch. Its split, warped, surface and subtle cant hidden by a fresh couple of inches of powder. The ripples in Adagio’s hair became a tidal wave as the girl lost her balance, tilted too far back and spun around to crash with a muffled ‘oof’ into AJ’s padded chest and open arms.
The front door popped open just then, the fresh face of youngest Apple sibling gawking at them from just beyond the threshold. “I’m pretty sure this ain’t what I asked for Christmas.”
Applejack stood there in the falling snow, Adagio lifting her face up from AJ’s jacket. The siren sneered and looked away from the house and teenager. “She slipped and…” Applejack started numbly.
“Wait, I got it!” Applebloom snapped her fingers, narrowing her eyes and grinning ear to ear. “That’s Big Mac’s gift, ain’t she?”
“I better not be!” Adagio snapped, grabbing Applejack’s shoulders and shoving. “I never agreed to that!”
“‘Bloom’s teasing.” Applejack tipped her head to the side to glare around Adagio at her sister. “And she better stop, ‘cuz we have a guest, and if she ain’t nice about it, it’s her bed you’ll be sleeping in while she gets the couch.”
“Not without a fight she won’t.” Applebloom snickered and pushed the door all the way open. She cleared her throat and did her best to enunciate each word. “Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres, home of the original Zap Apple Jam. Please come in and make yourself comfortable.”
Growling, Adagio shoved Applejack again, freeing herself and stepping with much more care back onto the porch. “It’d be a lot more comfortable if it weren’t a deathtrap. Try having a real house instead of a termite colony holding hands.” The little one at least knew what was best for her and held her tongue as Adagio passed. Inside the old building, however, was a different story than the cold ramshackle exterior. Warm light filled the home, bathing everything in a light golden aura. The air was comfortably hot against her cheeks and smelled like a bakery sat next to a barbecue joint. Decorations covered every surface, smiling faces of all different ages looking out from photographs that predated the digital age. Over in the far corner of the main room, a TV with a gently curved screen and turnable knobs played quiet holiday music.
“Well then welcome to the commune and happy holidays!”
Adagio blinked, yanked out her thoughts and pulled into another padded chest and tight hug by an elderly woman that had just stepped into the room from deeper in the house. She smelled even more like a bakery and three times as festive as the rest of the surroundings. Adagio reached up and patted the woman gently on the back, returning the beaming smile pointed her way weakly. “Er...th-thanks for having me?”
“It ain’t no thing, sugarcube! Sweet Apple Acres is home to anyone what need one, especially one of our Pear cousins.”
“What?” Adagio pulled back, standing head and shoulders above the woman, eyebrows raised.
“Nah, Ganny, Adagio ain’t a Pear.” Applejack coughed awkwardly, shutting the door behind while Applebloom skipped off around the corner. “She’s a friend from school I met at the market today. She didn’t have no family to go see, so I invited her here.”
“Not a Pear?” Granny squinted up at Adagio for a moment, then shrugged. “Could’ve fooled me! Don’t matter none though, she’s still just as welcome. And it’s a good thing you brought her too. I just finished up in the kitchen! Mac’s setting the table now. Get outta them coats and let’s have some dinner!”
Granny turned and left them there in the living room, Adagio feeling lost and confused as Applejack started peeling off her outermost layers. “What did she mean? Me a Pear?”
Applejack nodded her chin at the corner with the TV. On top of the wooden box that housed it was a pile of holly sprayed with tacky, sparkling, glitter. Mixed into the green were polished red apples and succulent green pears. Altogether they formed a shrine, and in the middle of that shrine was an old photo stained yellow with time, in a worn frame that had ‘In Memory’ inscribed on it. Two people held each other close, a newborn cradled in their arms while two very young children sat beside them.
Adagio sucked in air, her eyes glued to the woman there. They could be sisters. Almost. They both had huge mounds of curls and fuzz in the same shade of yellow. Her skin was a touch lighter then in the picture. They even shared the same basic shape: tall with a high waist and flaring hips that tapered to slender, strong legs. The biggest difference was the eyes.
And the smile the woman in the picture had.
Adagio scowled. “Who is that?”
“My Ma.” Applejack whispered. She set her jacket on a hook by the door and sighed. “She...sorry if that makes things more awkward for you. To be honest, I didn’t even notice the similarity myself, ‘til I saw you resting in the back of the stall at the market. I shoulda warned you about that.” Applejack put aside her scarf and gloves, dusting snowmelt off the brim of her hat. “Granny don’t mean nothing by it if she says something about it.”
“What if she says something about this?”
Applejack turned back to Adagio and found her coat likewise discarded. Under it Adagio wore the quintessential Little Black Dress that made cocktails famous. It was tight and strapless, the skirt dangerously short. Between the hem of the skirt and the tops of Adagio’s tall boots, her legs were covered in fishnet stockings that did nothing to cover the bruises on one thigh. The finger-shaped bruises on Adagio’s throat accented the narrow choker she wore to cover for her lost magical gemstone. It wouldn’t need a PhD or more than a glance to tell a lot about the girl’s recent life choices and experiences. Conflicting emotions battered Applejack in that moment as she sized up Adagio.
After a moment she settled on one. Standing up straighter, Applejack tugged on her shirt to sit it square on her shoulders. She smiled like her mother. “Then I’ll have to kindly insist that she, or anyone else that puts their foot in their mouth, apologize to our guest. You might not be an Apple or a Pear, Adagio, but here tonight? Yer family.”
Adagio rubbed her arm gently and shuddered. She was a nigh immortal sea monster, but in this little shabby farmhouse, she felt human again. Community, hmm? Adagio breathed deep, comfortable in her exposed skin as the farmgirl took a spot next to her and they turned together toward the hall and the dining room beyond. “Thank you, Applejack.”
“Don’t worry about it, sugarcube.”
The dining room was filled with a large table stacked with dozens of dishes, breads, dressings, ham, turkey, several different casseroles, pudding, pies and more. In what little room wasn’t taken up by food, Granny, Big Mac and Applebloom were already seated, their plates in various states of fixed. They all stopped where they were to look at the girls, Applebloom and Mac passing a glance between them. The eerie resemblance wasn’t lost on them, nor was Adagio’s outfit. Three chairs sat empty, one beckoning AJ and one other ready to accept Adagio. Apple jack pulled out one of the usually empty chairs, gesturing for Adagio to join them at the table.
“‘Bloom, fix Adagio a plate. Give her two rolls.” Applejack grinned, hanging her hat on the back of Adagio’s chair.
“Only two?”
“Well,” Applejack took her place next to Adagio, grabbing her own plate, “to start with.”
Author's Note
Man this one went kinda all over the place.
