Page 8 of Must Love Libraries and Libations (Moonshine Hollow #2)

PRIMROSE

C ousin Annie Beth’s annual summer fancy overalls party was one of the highlights of the year. Everyone from my mother’s extended family, longtime residents of Moonshine Hollow, would make their way to the farm at the edge of town where all manner of delights were waiting.

The front yard had been turned into a proverbial carnival.

Golden lanterns were strung between poles, picnic tables with red-and-white gingham tablecloths were laden with food and waited for hungry visitors.

Canning jars filled with wildflowers graced every table, and hay bales had been set out for seats.

Children ran in circles playing games and calling out to one another, tossing multicolored balls of glowing light back and forth in a game called rainbow run, with some of the teenage cousins playing the role of gamemaster.

A family band sat in one corner playing folksongs, and several people were already dancing in the center square. Someone had cast an enchantment that allowed the music to carry to all corners of the party. Great for festive fun, terrible if you did not like the twang of a banjo.

Not only was the family in attendance, but so were the residents of the local farms all around the outskirts of the hollow.

And everyone was dressed in the fanciest overalls the world had ever seen. From overalls painted in homage of peacocks, another like a fairy dragon, one even designed as the Moonshine Hollow tree, everyone had on their fanciest and festive attire.

“Flo, Flo, Flo,” Cousin Annie Beth called, her arms outstretched as she rushed toward my mother.

“Oh, my cousin, how wonderful to see you! And look at you. Bloomberry perfection!” Cousin Annie Beth embraced my mother, kissing her on both cheeks, then stepped back to look at my father and me.

“You’ve brought the whole garden. Welcome, Pumpkin Linden,” she greeted my father and then turned to me. “And Strawberry Primrose.”

“And you’re a unicorn,” I said with a grin, eyeing her sparkly pink overalls adorned with colorful ribbons.

“I am! Do you like it?”

“I do.”

Cousin Annie Beth took my arm and turned me toward the party. “How is it, Primrose? Did I do okay?”

I smiled at her. “Everything looks wonderful.”

“Do I need any other enchantments? You’ll tell me, won’t you? Do people look bored?”

“It’s perfect. No magic required.”

“You don’t need Primrose’s advice, Cousin,” my mother said with a wave of her hand. “You always host a wonderful party. You don’t need simple charms for that. Now, I have my famous carrot mint mincemeat crème pie. Where should I put it?” my mother asked, gesturing to the pie my father carried.

“Ah,” Cousin Annie Beth said, eyeing the pie suspiciously. She forced a smile so fake I was amazed my mother couldn’t see it. “Carrot mint mincemeat crème?”

“My latest!” my mother said proudly.

My father and I exchanged a quick glance but said nothing.

Truth be told, my mother was one of the worst cooks in Moonshine Hollow.

My father and I endured her creations with grace, but others…

Every year my mother brought some new recipe.

Last year it had been homemade cherry kale ice cream.

I had tried to convince her to let me bring something from The Sconery or to let me make something myself, but she was convinced everyone loved her unique flavor combinations.

“Why don’t we set it over there…somewhere,” Cousin Annie Beth said, gesturing to the buffet table. She turned to me. “Let’s talk again later,” she told me with a knowing smile then she took the pie from my father. Gesturing to my mother, she said, “Come with me, Flo.”

With that, the pair headed off.

I turned to my father, but his attention had already been piqued by the nearby field of sunflowers.

Of course the fields would get his attention.

My father was a Sylvan elf through and through, and his magic was garden magic.

He spent all day tending to his flowers and vegetables, caring and conversing with nature.

“I think I’ll just…” he said absently then wandered off, disappearing in between the rows of golden-topped flowers.

I chuckled. He’d disappear into the weeds until it was time for dinner and overalls judging, my mother never having noticed his absence.

Suddenly, I was alone.

A sense of dread washed over me.

Alone to deal with?—

“Hello, Primrose,” someone said from behind me. The mere sound of his voice made my face crumple. Trying to pull on a pleasant visage, I turned around.

“Kevin,” I said politely.

Why in the world my family thought Kevin was my perfect match, I had no idea. I hadn’t met anyone duller in my entire life. Kevin was nice enough, I supposed. He was tall, had short blond hair with blunt-cut bangs, and he was gainfully employed, but he was just so…

Kevin.

“I like your overalls,” I said, eyeing his ensemble: brown shirt, brown overalls, brown hat. “Your dressed as a…”

A turd. He looks like a giant turd.

Rude, Primrose. And crude.

But true. So, so, sadly true.

“A potato.”

“Ah…a potato. Right. I see. Very clever.”

He stared at me.

I waited for him to look away, but he just kept staring.

Was he ever going to blink?

Nope. Staring, staring, staring…

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you want some lemonade?” I asked, my voice coming out a bit too sharply.

“No.”

More staring.

“Punch?”

“No.”

So much for even basic party chivalry. “Okay, well, I think I’ll go get some lavender lemonade.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“That’s all right. I can find you again later.”

“No. I will come.”

Why? Why, gods, why?

“Okay,” I said with a smile as we made our way to the drinks table.

There, I ladled myself a glass of lavender lemonade.

The children had gathered around the bowl of flaming bloomberry punch.

The drink had been mixed with a sweet, candy-like elixir that made the punch glow bright pink and glittery and had pink flames on the top.

Nothing tasted more like summer. They giggled and laughed as they drank, the punch turning their lips bright pink.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” I asked Kevin, gesturing to the punch. “It’s always a fun treat.”

“Bloomberries give me diarrhea.”

“Alrighty, then,” I said then took a sip of my lemonade and scanned the crowd, praying I would see any excuse to flee Kevin. Unable to find a polite escape route, I faced the inevitable small talk. “So… How is your work?” I asked.

“Fine.”

“Have you been busy?”

“No.

“No?”

“Slow.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Was there an unexpected downturn?”

“Downturn?”

“You said things were slow.”

“Yes. Doing the work is slow.”

“So, the business is all right, then?”

“Yes, why?”

Please, just kill me.

“No reason. Oh, look, there are Granik and Juniper. It would be rude of me not to say hello. I have to go. See you later,” I said then hurried off, not waiting for him to insist to come with me.

Granik was an orc who owned the farm next to Cousin Annie Beth, one of the biggest lavender farms around.

No wonder he and Juniper, the local herbalist and my dear friend, had made their own fast friendship.

I smiled to see that Granik had brought all the workers from his farm with him.

Everyone had been festively dressed in their fancy overalls.

“Juniper, Granik,” I called merrily with a wave.

Juniper gave me a soft smile while Granik waved to me as he good-naturedly patted his workers on the back before they headed off into the party.

“Good to see you, Primrose,” Granik said when I joined them. “Is this your handiwork?” he asked, gesturing to the party.

“Not at all. This is Annie Beth’s all-natural magic.”

Granik laughed. “I see. Well, as long as she has her famous fifty meats and cheeses salad and lemon shandy, I don’t care if any magic is involved.”

Juniper chuckled.

“I’m headed there,” Granik said, pointing to the massive barrel of beer that had been hauled in on a wagon. “What about you? What would you like, Junie?” he asked Juniper.

“Bloomberry punch,” Juniper replied with a smile.

Granik nodded then reached out for my cup. “Refill?”

“Yes, please.”

“Oh, there’s Kevin over by the vegetable trays,” Granik said, gesturing. “Should I bring him back with me?”

I narrowed my gaze at him and asked, “Did you want to die tonight or…”

Granik laughed then headed off.

I looked over Juniper’s purple overalls. She’d embroidered the legs and bib of her overalls with delicate purple flowers with silver-green leaves and stems. A matching crocheted handkerchief held back her curling blonde hair. “You look and smell delightfully of lavender.”

“An homage to Granik’s farm. I’m even wearing a perfume from his plants. Of course, he went rogue and decided not to match me at all.”

I looked back at Granik who was wearing tan-colored overalls with barley shafts attached to the legs and bib of his overalls. “Ale.”

She laughed. “Yes. Ale.”

“Orcs never change.”

We both laughed.

“So, has Kevin found you already?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Now I begin the dance of avoidance for the rest of the night.”

“With all the frolics, you’ll find a way. If not, Granik can always stand in front of you and block you from Kevin’s view.”

I laughed, my eyes shifting to the orc once more. Granik was a towering wall of green muscle with long, black hair and short tusks. Despite his size and fierce appearance, he was such a calm, pleasant person who had caught the eye of many Moonshine Hollow ladies, but none of them had won his heart.

Smiling softly, I said, “It was nice of Granik to invite you.”

“He hates coming to things like this alone,” she said, her gaze shifting back to the orc.

Granik was chatting with a number of others gathered, his hand on Cousin Bob’s shoulder. A gaggle of children playing tag raced around him, using the orc’s massive frame in their game. He laughed at their antics as he chatted easily with the others.

“He only thinks he’s an introvert,” Juniper added.