Virginia looked frustrated, but Maggie interrupted before she could continue.
“Mom, you can’t expect me to just stay away from supernaturals other than you and Devon forever. I could have easily been friends with supernaturals all this time and just not known it! Eventually, when I’m 18, I’ll just do it anyway, so at least if you let me now, you can get some input in helping me identify which ones are okay or not.” She stared down her mother without hesitation.
Maggie was fearless, and also very stubborn, I decided. Possibly a little reckless, but where Virginia was concerned…she might need that to get anything done.
Virginia grumbled something about being manipulated by her kids, but sighed. “Fine, I won’t stop you from befriending them unless they’re not good people.”
Maggie looked like she was about to protest when I intervened quietly.
“Your mom is worried about you and has more experience than you do – with supernaturals, with life in general. It’s not a bad thing to have her looking out for you. Compromise can be a good thing.”
Considering that I was talking about this like I was bored and uninterested, perhaps it wasn’t surprising that they all looked at me like they weren’t sure if I was serious or not.
“Uh, okay,” Maggie agreed tentatively. “Fine, Mom, I’ll – I’ll try to get your help figuring out who is safe or not. Can you help me figure out who is supernatural or not?”
Devon started shaking his head. “Look, we can, but you shouldn’t want to befriend someone just because they’re supernatural. Or a large cat. I don’t think that’s really what Elizabeth was suggesting.” He gave a quick sideways glance at me like he wanted me to confirm that.
The thing was, I knew his stance was a little hypocritical. Most supernaturals tended to try to befriend other supernaturals or protected humans because they were safer to be around. You didn’t have to worry about hiding who or what you were. It was hard to tell Maggie she shouldn’t do the same thing just because she happened to be human and able to interact with both worlds.
“I think,” I said slowly, but with a change to my face or tone, “that I am not the best person to ask about relationships.”
I don’t think that was the answer Devon expected, but Virginia seemed actually somewhat relieved that I wasn’t continuing in the conversation.
She might not be entirely ready to shut me out of her life – at least my comment about compromise had seemed to achieve that – but I also was pretty sure she wasn’t about to welcome me into it, either. It was unfortunate, but not unexpected. Even Virginia had trouble understanding how I talked and how I didn’t express myself.
The rest of the evening, thankfully, was on more neutral grounds, talking about school for the kids – Maggie was in high school while Devon was in college – and Virginia’s work as an elementary school administrator. I didn’t talk as much for the rest of the night, which probably meant less confusion for them, but at least they were all talking to me, so that was something.
And when Virginia told me goodbye later and suggested “we should do this again sometime,” I felt cautiously optimistic that maybe things might work out after all.
~~~~~
I settled into somewhat of a routine after that. I’d have lunch with Sorrel once or twice a week and dinner with Virginia’s family twice a month. The other days I mostly spent at my apartment, either trying out new hobbies or doing reading. Or some more reading. Also, sometimes reading.
Sorrel and I had lunch outside one day, a couple of weeks later, walking through a park near his vet clinic while we drank hot tea and coffee and ate some sandwiches. He seemed moody that day, which was why I’d suggested eating outside despite the cold – fairies liked outdoors, so hopefully that would help. Plus, cold didn’t bother fairies as much and as a snow leopard familiar, I was fine with cold, too.
We walked for a little while in silence, and then Sorrel suddenly let out an irritated huff. “We’ve been working closely with the fairy community, trying to make sure they’re as protected as possible, but some of them are just being…obstinate. There’s this one guy, a little older, he refuses to work with me at all. I came across poorly to him the first time we spoke and now he just – he’ll do the opposite of whatever I ask, without fail. I have to have my mom deal with him if we’re going to get anything done.”
He sighed and took a seat on a bench, me following him, then looked out at the frozen lake. “The first time I met him was years ago, during a time I was having even more trouble being prickly with people – I’ve actually loosened up some, believe it or not. But he refuses to ever see me as anything but that.” Sorrel’s hand on his cup tightened, then he looked over at me, a troubled expression on his face.
“I’m worried about what kind of impact my behavior could have on my daughter. I adopted a fairy child recently,” he explained before I could follow up, “her parents and family were killed by the construct, there weren’t any other fairies she knew that could take her in, she seemed to bond with me, and, well, I lost a friend last year, and my daughter’s name is the same. It just felt like it was meant to be. But now I’m worried that she’s going to grow up seeing me being all unfriendly to people and take after me.”
From what I knew of fairy communities, he wouldn’t be raising this child alone even if technically he was a single parent. “Your family is helping you, right?”
“Oh yeah. Everyone’s been awesome. Mom’s actually thrilled to have a baby fairy in the house again since her youngest is all grown up. I live with my parents and sister and my best friend and his boyfriend run a daycare, so she’s either with them or one of us all day. Ren and Riven take turns babysitting her sometimes. Everyone’s been very supportive.”
“And they’re kind people?” I pressed. “Different personalities? More…open?”
“Oh.” He kind of made a face, then nodded. “I mean, everyone has their own personality, yeah. My mom’s all professional when in work mode, but then just a loving parent the rest of the time, super outgoing, great with negotiating. Dad’s this calm, kind, wise parent while Honey’s bubbly and happy, very outgoing, too. Ren used to be more withdrawn, but since he started seeing Riven he got a lot more friendly and happy, and Riven is – well, he’s his own cup of tea. But yeah, it’s a variety of personalities, some very different from mine.”
“Then I don’t think you have to worry.” I took a sip of my coffee. “She’ll grow up seeing a lot of emotions and people, plus I suspect growing up actually knowing you may instead teach her that appearances can be deceiving rather than teaching her that she should mimic you.”
Sorrel considered this, then looked like he was relaxing some. “Most fairies have years to prepare to be a parent, because of how we reproduce,” he admitted. “I had around a week while I was deciding whether or not to adopt her. It’s been a whirlwind change.”
Fairies used plants to make children, I remembered, specific plants that had to be fed fairy magic, generally over the course of a couple of years up to several years, depending on how much magic was being fed. He was right – for a fairy, he had become a parent very abruptly.
“A good change?”
He gave me a surprisingly bright smile, all his worries fading from him for a moment. “Oh yes, she’s great. She’ll probably run me crazy once she starts really getting mobile and using magic but I don’t regret it at all. I love her so much already. I’m just worried about whether I’ll be a good parent, especially given that I have more trouble with making new friends than the average person.”
I was not the average person, so to me, he was quite good at it. “I think all parents worry about that somewhat, even if they have years to prepare.”
“That’s true,” Sorrel mused. Then suddenly he jerked upright and started fishing in his pocket for his phone. “I should show you pictures. Ren takes better ones – he’s a photographer – but I can’t help but take dozens every day. I used to have mostly animal pictures in my phone but now I think she’s rivaling them. Oh, here, this is from the other day.”
I obediently looked at the pictures of the small fairy child – about 8 or 9 months old, maybe? – and told him I thought she was quite cute. My expression and voice might have said otherwise, but really I did think she was cute and I actually felt quite impressed by his willingness to entirely change his life to adopt a child he had no relation to – but needed a home and wanted him. Not everyone would do that.
If he was bothered by my lackluster response, he didn’t show it, instead eagerly flipping through more photos of his daughter, then pausing to show me one of a fluffy smiling dog which he said was his brother Ren’s. He got sidetracked with some pictures of his patients – including a cat that had somehow gotten dyed blue when its people were using bath products and the cat fell in – before returning his phone to his pocket.
“I should probably be getting back soon,” he admitted reluctantly. “My lunch always runs long when I’m out with you, I should stop scheduling appointments right after we meet for lunch.”
I had mixed feelings about this – on the one hand, I was pleased that he was enjoying himself enough to want to hang out that long, and on the other, I felt bad about disrupting his work.
“Should we meet at a different time? On the weekends or something?”
He looked annoyed, paused, and then sighed heavily. “It would probably make more sense – then we wouldn’t have to constantly be interrupting our talks – but I like hanging out with you, I don’t really like the idea of only seeing you on the weekends.”
More happiness, but my fingers curling more tightly around my cup of coffee was the only indication. “Perhaps we could adjust to one midweek lunch and a longer period on the weekend.”
He glanced at me, then laughed suddenly. “This sounds like we’re arranging something very formal instead of just hanging out as friends.”
But we didn’t work or live in the same areas, so unless we scheduled time together, we probably would not end up crossing paths often. The only reason we’d met to begin with was the actions of other people coincidentally throwing us into each other’s paths.
Planning seemed to be the only way to go.
“You should return to the clinic,” I informed him calmly, rising to my feet. “Since my time is flexible, message me whenever you want to meet up on the weekend. And Sorrel,” I added as I was about to part ways, “I’m sure you’re a great father.”
He didn’t answer, but I saw the tips of his ears turn red and he ducked his head slightly as he murmured a thanks.
~~~~~
Sorrel: Are you free at 2pm on Saturday?
Me: Yes.
Sorrel: Great. I want to take you to this old bookstore our historian friend told us about. I’m not huge into reading myself, but that’s something you enjoy, right?
I looked at his message, somewhat surprised. I hadn’t specifically told him that, but I had admitted to doing a lot of research and he had been by my apartment and would have seen the bookshelves, so he must be more observant than I first realized. Not that I minded, it was actually kind of nice that he had noticed without me even saying anything.
Me: I do enjoy books. Especially old books.
Sorrel: Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 2pm, then.
Apparently we were driving, then. Usually our lunches weren’t that far from his vet clinic, but one upside to doing things together on the weekend where we weren’t as limited time-wise was that we could travel further away, if necessary. That was kind of nice. I was looking forward to getting to see more of Avenglade.
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