Chapter Twenty-Seven - Jeweled Jarlsburg

I DIDN'T SEE them again.

Okay, I'm being dramatic, but it's also true. My mother made certain we always locked up the second the store closed and I had to follow her back to her hotel or else. For a week, the only way I could communicate with any of the guys was via notes scribbled on napkins I tossed into the trash. I prayed they found and read them.

I promised that I'd do something to fix this. That I'll do everything I can to delay the sale. But each day, more cheese flew out the doors, and no milk came in. The stocks were sagging and I couldn't get into the vault to see how screwed we were.

"What are you doing?" my mother screeches at me.

I finish packing up the order with a smile, then rush to the cheese-tasting counter. "Here, try this brie. It's made fresh on premises."

"Mmm." The customer waves her cracker at me as if giving praise. "That's delicious."

"Thank you."

"Violette." My mom grabs my arm and yanks me half across the counter. "What is this?"

"It's a cheese tasting. People can try out different cheeses, and if they like one—"

"It's a waste of time and money. You there, either buy something or get out!" my mother snarls at the customer who is eyeing up the array of brie in rainbow-colored wax.

With a sneer, the customer reaches to drop her toothpick in the bag but misses. She mutters something under her breath and leaves without buying any cheese. I hustle around the counter to pick up the dropped toothpick, and my mother comes with me.

"These tastings need to end. You're wasting your money on scammers who trash this place. We need to keep it clean or we might get screwed in the deal. Violette? Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, mother." I drop all the errant toothpicks that rolled under the counter into the paper bag and reach to change out my gloves.

My mom inspects the sign advertising the tastings on the counter. Without a care, she hurls Mateo's old chalkboard to the ground. A snap lurches my heart.

"Oh no," I cry out, hustling toward it, but it's too late. The slate is cracked right down the middle. A chunk starts to tip out of the frame. I try to keep the slate in place while my mother shakes her head.

"That piece of junk," she says with a sniff.

Digging my fingers to the back, I press the old sign against my chest. Tears are coming, but I can't have that. They need to stop or she's going to get so angry.

"Violette, what are you doing?"

"Just cleaning up your…my mess." I stare down at the sign, Brie's careful letters smudged. It's broken, it belongs in the trash. I glance at the can behind the counter and make a motion to throw it away.

Four nails click on the counter above my head. Without thinking, I bundle the broken chalkboard up on the shelves below the cheese, hiding it. Dusting off my hands, I rise as my mother glares across the street.

"We've been here forever." My mother rarely lasts long, her cheery demeanor souring within a couple of hours of opening each day.

"Closing time's not until six. We've got—"

My mother waves my words away, and I shut up.

"You could head back to the hotel, rest up after your long day. I'll close here, maybe pick up dinner…?" I try to keep my voice quiet and respectful for fear she'll sniff out that I don't want to go with her.

My mom's not even listening to me. Her focus is on the back wall. She's got her head quirked as if she's smelled something she doesn't like. I follow her gaze and my heart stops.

Oh, no. Right there is the picture of the guys looking like they did yesterday next to my great uncle from forty years ago. She's going to figure out that they're immortal cheese-men. She'll do something terrible to them. I have to stop her…

"What's this?" My mother skips right past the picture frame and grabs Brie's painting of me.

"It's…a painting," I say, breathing again. As she stares at the canvas, I try to slip over without her noticing to grab the incriminating photo.

"I can see that, Violette. Is this supposed to be you?" she asks, flipping it around.

I freeze before I touch the photo frame and look down at me sitting on the bench in the park. Brie put so much detail and heart into it, just looking at it makes my heart melt. "Yeah."

"It's a terrible likeness," my mother says. "Trite trash." She winds up to hurl it into the wastebasket. My arms reach out to catch it, but she pauses. "No. This belongs in the dumpster. Not somewhere where a perverted janitor could find it later."

My mother's claws dig into the painting. She raises her nose and stomps toward the door. "Close the shop. We're done for the day."

"It's only four-fifteen," I say even while following behind her. I strip off my apron and lay my gloves on the counter for the guys to find. As I shove open the door, my mother pauses and stares at me.

"So? Lock up, Violette, while I dispose of this."

Biting my lip, I blindly fish out my keys while watching my mother approach the dumpster. Please don't break it. Please don't rip it.

She holds the painting in both of her hands like she's about to snap the wood in half. I hold my breath, wincing. With a sneer, my mother hurls the canvas into the dumpster and slams the lid shut. Outside, my face is neutral and blank. Inside, I'm screaming.

Brie's going to hate me. He'll think I hate him. That I don't love the painting. That I don't love him…painting.

"Are you finished locking up?" my mother asks. "Or are you being weird again?"

"I'm…" I turn the lock five times fast while she stands over my shoulder watching. With the last one, I breathe a sigh of relief. At least they won't die in a fire tonight.

My mother snorts. "Why couldn't I have a normal child?"

"Sorry, Mom." My usual spiel after she's caught a ritual falls out of me without thinking. All my focus is on the dumpster. Maybe they'll find it. Maybe they'll save it. Maybe…

"Violette!"

"Coming, Mom."

I hurl the dumpster lid up and strain on my tiptoes. "Come on, it's gotta be in here." My phone's weak flashlight darts through the black bags of cheese waste and whatever comes from the store next door. Nothing, nothing. There!

The light catches on a corner of the sun. It's the painting and it looks in good shape. No coffee or chocolate cake hit it. Unfortunately, it's fallen to the bottom of the dumpster. I try to reach, but I can't even touch it. Turning to the side and straining with all I have, my nails scrape the edge of the canvas.

Yes. Just a little more. No!

My finger sends the painting tumbling deeper into the garbage abyss. Exhausted, I slam both of my palms to the dumpster's lip and shout, "Damn it!"

Hands sweep around my waist, and I'm flying into the air. "Ahh!" I flail, grabbing a bag of trash to hit my attacker.

A voice I haven't heard in a week asks, "Does this help?" Cheddy's got me. He hoisted me up without question.

"A little lower," I say, bending half over and straining for the painting. "Just a bit more." Cheddy's hands slip down my stomach until he's clinging to my upper thigh. I'm more than half inside the dumpster, doing my best to not breathe in old milk and rotting cheese.

"Yes!" I hook a finger under the canvas and tug the painting to my chest. "Okay, pull me up."

Cheddy slips one hand up my chest and another under my ass. Sandwiched between his palms, I rise out of the dumpster like a stinky phoenix and land on my feet in front of him. Cheddy opens his arms for a hug, but I pause before giving it. Not only do I reek of garbage, I'm also holding the fragile painting.

He stares down at my hands and scratches his head. "Is that Brie's?"

There's no denying it, so I turn it around. "Yes."

Cheddy looks to the dumpster then back at me. "How'd it get in there?"

"An accident," I say.

"Well. Good thing you found it." Despite me being covered in gross garbage water, Cheddy scoops his arm under my ass, pulls me to my tiptoes, and kisses me. His smile stretches from ear to ear as he stares into my eyes. "I like looking at it."

"Me too," I whisper, in awe at how natural a giant cheese-man's touch feels. I'm not shaking or blushing in terror.

I feel whole holding him.

"Are you back for the night?" Cheddy asks.

"I…um." I left my mother passed out under the covers. At two A.M. I snuck out of our room like a bandit in the night. But only after I shoved my suitcase under the blanket on my cot.

"We've all missed you. Cam, Brie… Roq too, not that he'll admit it."

Hugging Brie's painting tight, I gaze up into Cheddy's eyes. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to pop in and say hello."

"Eee." He shakes his arms back and forth in glee, then he escorts me like a gentleman to the door. Just before he guides me inside, he bends over to say, "And maybe get in a quick threeway while you're here."

If not for Cheddy's arm around me, I'd have walked right into the door in shock. Instead, he helps me though, then calls out, "Brie! Look who's back."

"So help me if that raccoon has stolen your mop again…" Brie rises and shakes back his scattered hair. The light catches on those baby blue eyes and, as they land on me, he smiles brighter than the sun. "Violette!"

I have not one but two very excited men doting on me. Cheddy keeps an arm draped around my waist while Brie reaches for my hands. "Oh my goodness, we were afraid. I was afraid I'd never see you again. Cam, however…" His rapid-fire sentences come to a halt as he spots why he can't hold my hands. "What's that?"

"It's your painting," Cheddy says before I can think of a single acceptable explanation.

"Oh. I, um, wondered where it went." Brie glances back to the wall bereft of his art.

Say something. Anything other than your mother said you were ugly and threw it away.

"I took it home with me. To the hotel. I…I missed you. And at first, I thought oh, well, at least I can look at your painting while I'm there. But then I got to worrying what if you missed your painting? You might want it to stay here instead."

Brie's frown lightens almost instantly. He keeps bobbing his head as if he's waiting for the opportunity to rush through my babble and kiss me. "Really?"

"Should I put it on the wall…?" I lift it to rehang it before I blanch. If my mom spots it she might do something awful like shred it.

"No." Brie steps in. He stares at his work, then presses it to my chest. "Keep it. Maybe I'll make you a new one of me to go with it. Once I've finished cleaning this place to impossible standards, of course."

An overwhelming urge to commiserate warps through me at Brie's flagrant sarcasm. Trying to live up to my mother's standards is impossible—and yet I keep trying. "I'm sorry about all of this. I didn't think she'd come here. She never leaves home. She doesn't even own a car. I…"

I let them down. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Violette. We don't blame you."

"It's the she-beast's fault," Cheddy cries out. "How does a beautiful flower sprout from such a harridan harpy?"

That's my mother. The sharp response stings on my tongue. I should reprimand him and defend her. Because she's my mom, my family. Instead of facing off with Cheddy, I catch Brie's eye. He's brushing the tip of his finger over his painting, his face contorted in a mess of emotions. Then he stares at me and they all fade to sorrow.

"Where…where are Cam and Roq?"

"Oh, they'll want to see you're here. Especially Roq."

I grit my teeth. How many ways has Roq cursed my name over the past week? He'd be right to do it though. I did renege on our deal even if I didn't want to.

"They're in the basement since they don't get to be janitors," Cheddy says. He tugs open the trapdoor and peers down into the cellar. "Hello!"

No one responds. "Ah, they're probably in the vault. Come on."

I peer back out through the big windows. It's easy to forget they're there giving every passerby or store across the street a look into my cheese fantasy world. How many have taken stock of the four strange men in this shop? What if one of them tells—?

"Vi?" Cheddy peeks his head out of the gap. "Are you coming?" he asks instead of demanding it.

"Yes. What about you, Brie?"

"Let me just finish this floor, and I'll meet you down there," Brie calls.

As I start the climb down the ladder, Cheddy narrates, "Those two have been down here all night, all the nights."

"Doing what?" I ask. "There's no milk to make cheese."

"I dunno. I asked once, and Roq told me to tend to the ruse upstairs."

"Ruse?"

Cheddy lands hard on the ground. He pivots his head back to stare at me. "Oh, Brie and I got jumpsuits. Says "janitor" on the back and everything. Reminds me of my old long underwear days."

I ease down the ladder but turn and rest my back against the rung. Staring up and down Cheddy, I realize he's dressed in his usual shirt and tan trousers. "Where's the jumpsuit?"

He nervously scratches the back of his neck. "I think I might have thrown it away. Oops."

Laughing, I wrap my arm over Cheddy's and rest my head on the side of his biceps. "I've missed you."

"We've missed you too. It's not the same without you." He frowns at the thought then lifts his head high. "Camembert? Roquefort? You here? Well, you have to be. Where else can you go?"

We walk around the empty, scrubbed-clean vats. The racks behind are full of molded and pressing cheeses, ready to be put away for aging. I spot the one I worked on. Cutting that curd was a huge workout and Cam told me the lopsided way I molded it gave it character. It's the only cheese with little flowers resting beside it.

"…just stop this," Cam's exhausted voice echoes off the ceiling.

Cheddy's excited steps slow. "Oh. Sounds like they're fighting again."

"Don't lecture me," Roq argues back.

I tug Cheddy closer, the hair on my arms rising. "Do they do this often?"

"Every night since you've been gone."

"What are you even doing?" Cam snarls.

"You know the answer. I'm not debating this again." Roq sounds exhausted, but also like he could argue all night.

Cam curses in a string of fast Spanish my three years in high school cannot keep up with. "We should be out there hunting for a new space. It's only a matter of time before that bruja kicks us out of here. Then what? We could be tossed into a dumpster with the rest of the stock if you don't—"

"I have this!" Roq screams. "All I need is a few more weeks and…"

"We don't have weeks, For. Are you listening to me? I should be scouting a new location, finding a cellar, cutting a deal with a flimflam man. Instead, you have me stealing sheep's milk, and for what?" A loud clang breaks out like someone kicked a metal tin.

"It will work."

"So you've claimed for four hundred years."

"Those were failures, yes. I kept missing something, but this." Roq sounds like he's on the edge. "This is it. A few more weeks and we don't need to find a new cellar. We don't need to live like rats." Roq's manic panting stills and the air grows quiet. "We can see the sun again, Ber."

Cheddy stiffens beside me, his body flexing to stone. His breathing stills as he digests the same thing I heard. If they can see the sun again that would mean…?

Cam's sigh sweeps through the racks of cheese. "It won't work. Just like all the others before."

"It will! You have to have faith."

"In what? In watching you waste every human moment churning, cutting, and molding in the hopes that at last all of the stars will align and you'll break this curse?"

"I'm doing this for you, and Chedward, and Brie," Roq cries out.

"No, you're not. Why do I bother? You're too stubborn to listen."

"At least I didn't abandon you," Roq says.

Shoes spin on the floor and Cam's voice snarls. "Do you really want to delve into why I left?"

"You turned your back on all of us, Cheddy and Brie included."

"No. I left you, Roquefort."

"Because you discovered the truth."

Cam snorts. "Because you never told me. All those centuries and you couldn't trust me. I'm done with this. Steal your own damn milk for your madness."

The shadows move and Cam's stretches across the ceiling. I turtle in close to Cheddy, certain I wasn't supposed to hear all of that. He holds me close, but Roq isn't finished with this argument.

"I was right, you know."

"About what?"

"I knew if you found out, you'd abandon me. And you did."

Cam laughs mirthlessly. "It must be hard to stir the milk with that cross hanging off your back."

"This is the one, Ber. It'll work. I'm sure of it."

"Do you know why you spend all night down here? Why you make deals with horrible people and trap us in these cheese cellars selling our long lives to nothing but work?"

Roq swallows loudly and his voice softens. "To cure us."

"To assuage your guilt. That cheese won't work this time, or the next, or any other. And neither will it clear your conscience." Cam's footsteps pick up quickly, sending him careening around the shelves so fast, we don't have a chance to act like we weren't listening in. He catches us just as Roq comes peeling around the corner.

"That's not…!" He freezes, first spotting me. Then he looks up to Cheddy whose face hides in the shadows. Roq pushes up his glasses. "Violette. It's nice to see you again."

"Hi," I limply call out and lift my fingers in a pathetic wave.

"I believe Cam has made a cheddar and broccoli soup if you're hungry. It's mostly edible." Roq tries to force the joke through a pin-sized hole.

"What guilt?" Cheddy's voice shatters off of the bricks.

"Hmm?" Roq asks like he didn't just have a shouting match with Cam.

"What did Cam mean you're guilty of?" Cheddy asks.

"About the Mateo situation and being trapped in this…situation in the first place." Roq lifts his chin, but for a second his eyes dart to Cam who's crossed his arms.

Cheddy listens, then he shakes his mountainous head. "What about the curse?"

"Why do you feel guilty about that?"

We all turn to find Brie standing behind us. He's polishing a pot and staring at the man who's forced him to clean untold millions of them for centuries.

"I…I don't." Roq backs up and nearly rams into the shelf. The cheeses shake in their place. "Why would I? An evil witch…"

"Give it up, For." Cam rises to stand beside Cheddy. "This lie has gone on long enough."

"What lie?" Cheddy booms, his eyes blazing. "Who lied?"

With all three of his friends bearing down on him, Roq looks to me. I gulp. Is this about Mateo and their twenty-year hibernation? Is he hoping I'll cover for him?

"My uncle locked you up because of me," I cry out. "I'm sorry. I…I was spending my summers here and I think he was worried that if I learned your secret I'd blab it. I'm the reason you lost twenty years."

"Oh, my sweet flower, you do not deserve the lashings for crimes committed centuries before your birth. None of this is on your head," Cam assures me. He takes my hand and pats it while staring into my eyes. Then he hardens and glares at Roq. "Tell them, Roquefort. Tell them how you became cursed."

"It's the same tale as the rest of you. I ate a piece of cheese I shouldn't and became that which I consumed. There's nothing more that needs to be said." Roq tugs down his shirt and puffs up his chest. "Brie? Have you finished cleaning upstairs? The cheeses need cutting and Cheddy could assist with—"

"No." Cam interrupts. "I'm not letting you browbeat your way out of this any longer." He takes a deep breath and stares right into Roq's eyes. "He's the one who cursed us."

Roq shakes his head, his lips fighting to smile.

"What?" Cheddy asks.

"That doesn't make any sense. It was a witch. How could he curse us if he's cursed too?" Brie argues back.

"It was him. He brought forth the curse while trying to craft the perfect cheese." Cam sweeps his hand around to the racks and racks of cheese until they look unending. Cheddy and Brie both stare with hardening gazes.

"Is this true?" Brie asks, his eyes brimming with tears.

Roq raises his hands as if he's about to call out Cam, but they start to shake. "I wasn't trying to…I. You have to understand the pressure I was under. If I didn't appease my lord he was going to—"

"How?" Cheddy's single word cut like a knife.

"A dream and a deal made with a man of shadow. I didn't even think it real until—"

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Cheddy grabs Roq by the shoulders. "How could you?"

"Chedward…"

"We trusted you. You're our commander. But you betrayed us? You lied to us? All this time! Why?"

"I did it for you," Roq says. He moves to pat Cheddy's shoulder, but the man flings his hand away.

Bawling, Cheddy steps back. His words come in spurts between sobs. "Stay away from me, you coward." Tears flying off, he runs for the ladder.

Roq glances at Brie. "I can explain. Let me explain."

Opening his hands, Brie drops the pot to the ground. It bangs about in a circle before coming to a stop on Roq's foot. Without looking back, Brie joins Cheddy up the ladder.

Enraged, Roq spins on Cam. "How could you do this to me?"

Cam snorts. He picks up the pan and bangs the bottom once. "You did this to yourself." With a great heave, he throws the pan into the vat and saunters off after Brie and Cheddy.

Roq turns so only the cheese can see him. But his knuckles pop white as he digs into the shelf, a strangled cry becoming a scream. As his ear-piercing wail finishes its final echo, he slumps off back to the vault.

Holding Brie's painting close to my chest, I beg the universe, "What do I do now?"