“Then,” Zeus was saying, “my loving mother showed up! And you will never guess what she did!”
Rawwwwwr, said the lion.
Everyone around the table laughed.
“That’s right, Lucius!” Zeus agreed. “She roared! After that...”
I risked another peek, just to see if the lion was about to eat my face. Instead, Lucius had his head tilted and eyes closed in a look of utter bliss as Rhea scratched his ear, probably in an effort to keep him quiet.
I did meet the gaze of someone else, though. Apparently, she had peeked under the table to see the cute kitty. Now, from across the table, Athena was staring right at me.
Our eye-lock lasted less than a second, but the thing about Athena is that she is so smart, she can just glance at you and you feel like you’ve gone through a silent interrogation under a hot spotlight. The conversation went something like this:
Athena: Why?
Me: Quest. Sorry. Trying to hide.
Athena: Under a pastry cart? That is so clichéd.
Me: Yeah, I know.
Athena: I can’t believe my daughter is still dating you.
Me: Love is a mystery. Please don’t kill me?
Athena:......
Me:......
She popped her head back up while Zeus went on with his story. I waited for the goddess to interrupt and reveal my identity.
“So anyway, thefirstllama—” Zeus was saying.
“Ganymede?” Athena interrupted. “Would you be a sweetheart and take that pastry cart back to the kitchen? I don’t see any clotted cream for the scones, and that’s a deal-breaker.”
Ganymede stuttered, “Uh, I—”
“I want Ganymede to hear the end of the story!” Zeus protested.
“But, Father,” Athena said, calm and collected, “you know how Rhea loves her scones.”
There followed a moment of electric tension—I could imagine storm clouds forming around Zeus’s chair.
“Hmph,” he said at last. I couldn’t see him, but I swore I could feel the moment he let go of Ganymede’s wrist. “Hurry back.”
“Or don’t,” Hera muttered. “Take your time.”
The cart started to move. I couldn’t tell if it was shaking because of the wheels or because Ganymede was coming apart.
Behind us, Zeus mumbled, “I do love watching him walk away....”
“Could you not at the brunch table?” Hera asked through what sounded like clenched teeth.
“So where was I?”
“Crete,” Hermes said. “Llamas.”
The double doors swung open, and we were safely in the kitchen.