“Very punny—both of you,” I said as lime-green pops of glitter burst around my head-wreath. Inside the tree, my body was a blur of golden and bright green sparkles. Gravity had no hold on me in this state. I vibrated and shifted colors with the heartbeats of the trees. “I’ve got one. How do you know when a tree has had too much to drink?”
The boys were silent, but I could feel them rumble and snicker in anticipation.
“It won’t stop trunk-texting its ax,” I said, bracing myself so I didn’t get sucked up into a branch by accident. Occasionally, when the boys got giggly, I got tossed around. Trunks were far more comfortable than branches.
All five enormous oaks shrieked with laugher. The sound warmed my heart and calmed my soul. Ironically, for their size, you’d think that trees would have deep grumbling laughs. Nope, when trees laughed it sounded as if they’d swallowed a vat of helium. It was every kind of fabulous.
Although I couldn’t see a thing, I could hear the sound of their leaves shudder and hiss with delight. I knew if I opened my eyes and let my mind wander, I would discover what was happening outside the safety of Sponge Bob’s trunk, but I hadn’t felt exactly brave.
I’d never thought of myself as a coward. However, I worried that if I went back out into the world it would be more devastating than dying.
“I have another,” I said, needing their laughter. It was the best medicine. “Why couldn’t the evergreen land a date?”
“I guaran-tree I do not know the answer,” Sleepy announced grandly.
“That was sappy,” Sneezy pointed out.
“Take it or leaf it,” Sleepy said with a giggle. “Tell us the answer, lovely little Willow!”
I grinned. “It was so busy pining after an unavailable tree that it never really branched out.”
No one laughed.
My grin disappeared.
I’d hit a little too close to home with that one—my home. Crap. I’d pined for a man who didn’t think of me as more than a friend… and I’d never branched out to find someone who might love me back.
That was pathetic.
I was pathetic.
“What is it that you fear, Willow?” Sponge Bob asked kindly.
I hadn’t put words to my thoughts yet. Speaking my fears would make them real. Was I being ridiculous? Yes. Would my mother—Goddess rest her beautiful soul—have a fit that I’d lost my balls somewhere along the way? Absolutely. Would my handsome and brave father who’d perished along with my mother fifty years ago tell me to pull up my big girl panties and live my life to the fullest and bushiest? You bet. Were dryads known as wimps in the magical world? No.
Did a man define me?
Even the hottest warlock alive?
No. No. No. My forestration level was at an all-time high.
“My balls,” I said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Sponge Bob asked, clearly confused.
“As in tes-tree-cles?” Doc asked, perplexed.
“Umm… kind of,” I said with a laugh. “My metaphorical balls. I’ve lost them.”
Sleepy swayed in concentration. “While trees do have nuts, it’s a different kind of nut you’re referring to. Correct?”
“Correct,” I told him with a grin. I was going to miss these boys when I left.
Grumpy cleared his throat. “Speaking of metaphorical cojones, would any of you ever go on the acorn diet?”
“Does this pertain to the conversation?” Sponge Bob asked with a sigh.
“Not at all,” Grumpy said. “I just thought I’d add a little levity to the hairy sac chat.”
“I’d like to answer the query,” Sneezy volunteered.
“Fine,” Sponge Bob said. “And then no more jokes. We must discuss where Willow lost her nards.”
I was tempted to stop them, but I wanted to know the answer.
“I would never go on the acorn diet,” Sneezy said. “It’s NUTS!”
All five trees trembled with laughter. The jokes were just awful, but the company was perfect.
“Pipe down,” Sponge Bob told his buddies. “Although, I must say that was a good one, Grumpy. But back to our little dryad’s missing knotty bits… The only way to find your absen-tree jewels is to go back out into the world and search for them.”
The wise oak made an excellent point. I needed more advice. Following my own hadn’t gone too well.
“What would you think of a girl who’d loved a man who didn’t love her in return for an entire decade?” I asked, laying it all out.
“He’s nuts and not the metaphorical kind,” Grumpy grumbled.
“No. Maybe I’m nuts,” I said. “Maybe I should just let it go and move on.”
“Is that what you want, little dryad?” Sleepy asked.
“Nope. But Mick Jagger says you can’t always get what you want.”
“Does this Mick Jagger have balls?” Sponge Bob inquired.
I laughed. “Yes, and very tight spandex pants. He’s a Rolling Stone. Maybe I’ll take a page out of his book.”
Doc tsked. “Oh Willow, no, no, no. A rolling stone never settles in one place for long. You will never gather moss… or love or friends or a home… and spandex is so eighties.”
The thought was depressing—not the spandex part, that was accurate—but no more depressing than unrequited love. Dryads lived for many centuries. I’d bounced around many a forest in my time and there were more left to discover. A fresh start was what I needed. A rolling stone didn’t sound too bad. But I needed a few clarifications about my current friends and love of my life before I started spinning through my new life.
“Boys, can I ask a question?”
“Absolu-tree,” Sponge Bob replied.
“Is Zach alive or dead?”
The trees were silent and my stomach dropped to my toes.
“Open your eyes, Willow,” Sponge Bob urged. “Look and see for yourself. It’s the first step in finding your hairy magic beans.”
I sighed and silently agreed. The mighty oak was correct. However, the variety of nicknames for balls was astounding.
“You’re right. Can I come back and visit you some day?” I whispered, screwing up the courage to open my eyes and take a peek at the world I’d avoided for the past month.
“You always have a home in us. We have
