Jenny wiggled the old door handle and put her shoulder against the frame to push her father’s front door open. No WD-40 allowed, at least not on the exterior, for their own protection. It was an Assjacket city ordinance to remain historically accurate. Also known as so run-down that mortals would speed up on the highway instead of stopping and interrupting the balance the townspeople loved so much.
“Dad? You around?” She wandered around chairs, end tables, and shelves, all in need of a good dusting. “Dad?” She heard movement toward the back of the house in his kitchen.
“Hi, honey, I didn’t hear you come in. Would you like some?” he asked, holding out a plate of crackers, each piled an inch high with canned cheese spread.
“I could have brought you lunch, Dad. That’s not considered a meal, or even remotely a healthy snack.”
“Pfft, I’ve been eating this combo since the mortals invented it. And I’ll outlive every last one of them.”
“Not because of your diet.” She shook her head. It was no use. He was a junk-food-aholic and very happily set in his ways. “I brought you some extra cupcakes. I made them yesterday for Bo, and Wanda had me bake some for the diner, but I knew they were your second favorite.”
“I do love a good German chocolate with that gooey frosting, but you know I’ll never turn down sugar.”
He was eager to accept the simple gift. His face was a bit lined by time, but he was still a handsome man. His smile was genuine, and he was a kind and compassionate person. Jenny suddenly wanted to bolt, leave him alone with his so-called lunch, and not bring up the one subject that would wipe away the smile on his face.
“What is it, honey?”
Worry lined his forehead, and Jenny’s guilt started making her stomach churn. Grateful she’d been too busy to consume anything but coffee and had nothing to vomit, she rolled her neck.
“Jenny? What’s wrong? Whatever it is, you know we’ll get through it together. Just as we always have.” He placed his plate on the open cookbook lying on the counter and reached for her.
She walked into his hug and held on tight. He was right about one thing, they’d always done life their way, getting through it all together with no other family around. “I have to ask you something, and I know it’s going to upset you.”
“Whatever it is,” he opened the space between them, his palms holding her upper arms, “I promise it won’t upset me as much as seeing you near tears, my love. Now, out with it, then we can fix it.”
Jenny clenched her eyes closed, gritted her teeth, and took one long deep inhale. Counting to four, she exhaled, opened her eyes, and whispered, “Mom?” She threw her hand up. “I don’t want to know about her. I don’t care about her. I just need to know about wrinkles and transporting.”
“I was expecting this visit ever since you took the book about Hawaii home with you.” He winked. “Come, let’s go sit.”
“Where?” It was a knee-jerk question and a rude one at that. Her father only chuckled and pulled her gently by the hand toward the front porch.
Ah-ha. The only place that has chairs and no books.
“By the way, how did you know about the book? Or, better question, how could you even notice it was gone, Dad? This place…”
“Is in a very precise order. That’s how I know.” He tapped his head.
“You saying you have it in order in your head is no help to the rest of us in town.” She forced a smile. Jenny eased down onto the metal chair with a missing armrest, giving the nicer of the two to her father. “I don’t want to bring up something that makes you so sad. I just need to know how to transport without…you know. Getting lost.”
Confusion lined her father’s face. “Why would you get lost?”
“Or trapped in a wrinkle or stuck in some Goddess-knows-where realm. I don’t know.”
“It’s no different from how you transport now, honey. You just know where you want to go, and you’re there.”
Jenny studied her father carefully. “We’re not on the same page. I’m missing something. You don’t transport either. I thought it was because she got stuck…you know, and that’s why she never came back.”
“Jenny, darling, I transport all the time. It’s how I find a lot of my books for the library. It’s a perfectly safe form of travel. How do you go anywhere now?”
“Walk.”
“I know you live close to work and the square. But other places?”
“If I need to visit Mac or Zelda occasionally, I just drive.”
“But—”
“I’ve never left Assjacket, Dad. The only thing I use any delivery magic for is shipping products. That’s it.”
Her father was quiet for several long moments, then leaned back in his chair and looked upward at the peeling paint on the porch ceiling. “This is all my fault. I remember now, the wrinkle.
“Jenny, back then, when you came to me with that assignment, it caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to say when you were younger. I didn’t know how to make sure you knew it was never your fault that your mother went away on her own, so I said she couldn’t come back, but that she wanted to. I never meant to scare you. And I sure never meant for you to miss out on so much. I just never realized you didn’t go anywhere, and looking back, we never took any trips because I’m such bookworm. I like my quiet old dusty house filled with stories. I never had to leave, because reading could take me anywhere and not cost a dime. Can you forgive me, honey?” He reached out his hand.
“Oh, Dad. There’s nothing to forgive. I like our life. I even like my own home and never felt any weird need to get out and explore other places. I’m very much a creature of habit and routine.”
“You are old enough to know about your mother.” He paused for a several moments, his gaze set on the driveway, the two gravel strips with grass and weeds filling the spaces between them. His car was hidden in the rickety detached garage. “She didn’t get stuck in a wrinkle. That doesn’t happen unless under very odd circumstances, usually dealing with magic between two forces, and one outpowers the other. Basically, if you’re fighting with anyone, especially with any amount of dark magic—stay put. Other than that, you’re perfectly fine to travel anywhere you want, any time you want.”
“So, is there still a chance I could get stuck?”
“It’s only happened once I know of, and Zelda could explain it in better detail than me. Nothing to worry about, I promise. But that isn’t what happened to your mother. She…we…aren’t from here. Before you were born, she and I both grew up in a town very much like Assjacket, but on the West Coast.
“Lydia and I grew up going to the same school. And I can tell you with absolute certainty, so you know and never question your bloodline, she is all white magic. However, as much as I wanted her to love me, you, and our family—there was always someone else. I was too blind to see it, or so in love with her, I ignored it. Until I couldn’t. When you were two, she said she wanted a life with Alfred instead. I would have stayed there in Oregon, but she said she wanted to move away with him and just him. She scribbled a note and signed it, giving up any claim as a parent.”
Jenny watched as her father blinked a couple of times and then ran a knuckle over his eyes. Pain and heat ran through her like she’d never felt before. Seeing him so torn up made her own tears start to pool. “Oh, Dad. I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t you see?” He turned toward her, sandwiching her hand between his. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You grew up without a mother, and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought if I let her go, let her have her new love, she’d still be a good mother. I had no clue that if I gave her what she wanted, she’d take it to such an extreme.”
“I’m better off. Our life together, it’s been perfect in every way, Dad. I wouldn’t have changed one single thing.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I have the best father in the whole entire realm.” She smiled through her tears.