The Elf Widow

Vaccum

Monday evening David was perusing the Street Food menu on the Glasgow Uber Eats website, wondering about the delivery cost to their out-of-the-way location, when Aubrey knocked. He felt a pleasant warmth at the sound. Yes, he missed the one-to-one talks they had before crunch time, but he appreciated the way her gentle mothering had energized everyone to put in their best work.

When he opened the door, Aubrey stood there hugging a humongous wicker basket stuffed with apples, a smoked ham, a loaf of bannock bread and several ceramic canisters he was sure held food just as inviting.

But that wasn't the biggest surprise. Aubrey had cut her hair.

David bit his lip, already missing her rippling red mane. At least her new hairstyle seemed to mimic Zandy's shoulder length shag rather than Chloe's buzzcut.

When David took her basket, Aubrey tugged on the shoulder of her grey-and-purple flowered blouse. That was a new look too—evidently to her as well as to him.

As on Friday, Chloe was the first to join them. "You went shopping!" The intern grabbed Aubrey's hand and pulled her into the room.

Following them with his eyes, David had to admit the skinny white slacks weren't bad.

"I love your outfit. Where did you buy it?"

Aubrey looked aside, smiling. "I—I made it."

"Oh my god!" Chloe exclaimed. "Not only could you open a smashing teashop, you could combine it with a boutique!"

"Ach, no. My work is here." 

***

Aubrey laid out a picnic-style spread of fresh bread, cold meats, hard and soft cheeses, mustard sauce and tart currant preserves. Even Jack grudgingly took a seat at the kitchen table. After a quick, cheery meal, everyone returned to their desks munching apples.

When David stacked the plates, Aubrey glared at him. "That's my work."

David suppressed a smile. "You really are the Cottage Ferguson glaistig, aren't you?"

Aubrey ducked her head a little. "So you've heard about me?"

"Aye," he said. "Chloe told us the rumor. But you'd think Old Ian Ferguson would have mentioned you in his advertisement. A property haunted by a glaistig as talented and industrious as you should command a higher rent."

"In my experience, most people find the notion frightening. They try to exorcise me and I have to spend years just wandering about."

David gave a nervous laugh. He'd meant the teasing banter to be friendly. He'd never expected Aubrey to take it up and run with it. 

"You can't know how happy is makes me to have a family in the old cottage again. Even such an odd one as yours. Each member is so different from the next, like a yew tree next to a hawthorn bush next to a field of daisies."

"Good, Lord, Aubrey. That's a colorful thought." David shook his head—not because he disagreed with her but to shake off the odd sensation her skill at sudden insights gave him. "I'm getting to think you really have spent time with the fairies."

"Elves," she corrected.

Elves. Right. "They've, uh, given you a—a unique point-of-view."

Aubrey sighed. "That they have, that they have."

When David reached for another plate, Aubrey snatched it from him. Disconcerted, he put down the stack he'd already gathered.

"Best you get back to your work," she said. "And best you leave me to mine."

***