Page 6 of The Pixies' Chosen

Although we both know that I can stand to lose a few pounds from my curvy frame, her maternal love is showing through and never fails to give me a warm fuzzy feeling as I accept the brief close of her perfumed arms around me. The jasmine and sandalwood blend that has been Mummi’s signature scent for as long as I can remember fills my nose as I return her embrace.

“Of course, Mummi,” I assure her with a laugh as I lean in to brush a kiss to her cheek. “Happy Birthday.”

A content sigh escapes her, and her arms fall away as she steps away with a pleased smile. “It’s a very good day. My two beautiful daughters are home—but Ammayi, must you look like a pumpkin? Inika could take you shopping and help you find colors that will be far more complimentary for you,” she chides, the glimmer of affection in her eyes taking the sting out of her words. “You are one of my beautiful flowers—yet you wish to look like a gourd.”

I fiddle with the hem of my dark orange odhni as I give my attire a lopsided smile. Perhaps I am looking a little pumpkin-ish.

“Oh. Well—at least it is seasonal,” I joke.

“That it is,” Inika agrees as she comes up beside me and loops her arm through mine. “Ammayi’s look is perfectly autumnal and suits her complexion. It suits her entirely. I couldn’t have chosen better,” she adds as she gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

“Inika is right,” Papa agrees as briefly parts company with some of the men of our community whom he is visiting with to plant a light kiss upon my cheek. “Nagmati, autumn colors aside, there are fields of orange and yellow flowers that are just as lovely as our Ammayi.”

I silently mouth my thanks to them when Mummi turns toward Papa with a sigh. “Of course, you are right, but I just wish for our younger daughter to enjoy the good fortune of her sister. We are not getting any younger. I want both of my daughters happily married with fat babies for my lap. So what is the harm in wishing for just a tiny bit more effort?” she explains as she pinches her finger and thumb close together.

I pat my thick braid with one hand guiltily. I’ve been found out. Attracting boys was definitely not in mind when I dressed and Mummi hasn’t failed to notice the fact that, while I am neatly dressed and wearing one of my favorite kurtis, that I haven’t gone the extra mile with styling my curls, applying makeup, or even choosing complimentary accessories to bring my look up a notch. I am presentable at best… but I’m also more comfortable than I would be dressed up to the degree that Mummi and Inika are, or many of the other ladies enjoying Mummi’s gardens.

And if that makes me less of a marriage prospect—so be it. I don’t want to change or pretend to be something or someone I’m not just for a man to find me likable. I want them to look at this pumpkin and like this pumpkin just as I am.

“Never mind,” Mummi says brightly as she takes my other arm into hers. “Ammayi, let me introduce you to the son of a dear childhood friend. He was going to school out of state studying human-fae political relations but has recently returned home after graduating. With your common interests, I am certain that you will suit each other perfectly!”

Common interests? I stare blankly ahead as I allow her to pull me along, Inika at my side like a valiant, supportive knight. I can’t even imagine what common interests Mummi is imagining. Politics? Surely she isn’t thinking of fae beings. Policy making with fae races is quite a different thing from enjoyingsmutting depictions of heroines boinking them. I can feel the blush flooding up into my cheeks as I tug reluctantly on her arm.

“Mummi, I don’t know…” I murmur, but my words die on my lips in mortification when my mother introduces me and announces my love of fae things to an attractive man who turns to me with a curious smile on his lips.

“Is that so?” he inquires. “What area is your interest in? Cultural? Economic?”

My blush burns hotter as he continues to speak because it isn’t any of those things specifically.Oh god, Ammayi don’t say cocks.

“No,” I say slowly with a nervous laugh. “More like interrelationship.”

“Oh, cultural exchange?” He brightens. “There is quite a bit of that going on these last few years with fae living among humans and vice versa.”

“Sort of,” I hedge. “But more along the lines of fictional.” I feel Inika squeeze my arm in warning, but I just can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

. “Fictional?” His smile fades as he gives me a confused look but hasn’t shut down the conversation completely yet so I’m starting to feel strangely optimistic.

Maybe this wasn’t going to go so badly after all.

“Yes, there are a lot of great fictional stories. I’m currently reading the Troll’s Conquest—the female lead character falls for this Troll… and… well, never mind that… Do you know any trolls?” I say instead when he begins to grimace. “I always did wonder how accurate the stories are to the races.”

I’m beginning to ramble. I know it but I cannot stop the verbal diarrhea even if I wanted to, and even though a look of dismay is rapidly falling over my mother’s face. “Because sometimes I’m not entirely sure how a human woman and an enormous troll would even fit together. Is that something youlearned about, because it does seem that there are quite a few people pairing up with non-humans, so it makes me wonder how true the stories are to actual human experience. Surely, there would be laws in place if it was dangerous—or, I’ll just shut up now,” I finish quietly as I snap my mouth shut with a weak smile.

“I… I see,” he stutters.

But no, he really doesn’t, and I can tell from the way he takes a definitive step back away from me and a quiet sound of laughter rises from some of the people closest to us, much to my embarrassment. “That really isn’t something that is pertinent to my field of study. It is a little… obscene,” he finishes.

Now it’s my turn to look confused. “But why wouldn’t it. Relationships between human and nonhuman people would be more than political. In fact, personal, intimate relationships would be something that would have a more immediate presence and social repercussions among populations versus political agreements.”

“We will have to disagree on that,” he says with a sharp laugh. His head suddenly turns, and his expression brightens as if seeing a chance of escape. “Oh! I must go say hi to a friend of mine. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ammayi,” he says as he quickly extricates himself.

“Oh, Ammayi,” Mummi sighs forlornly, her eyes following him.

“It’s all right, Mummi,” Inika interjects. “He was obviously a little too shortsighted for our Ammayi. Besides, she is right,” she adds as she sneaks a flirtatious glance over at Dishan. “If people are going to be getting together, the heart is important and affects people more directly. It should be at least considered by those studying political relationships between the races coming together.”

Our mother is not convinced but then it is difficult for her to fathom wanting a relationship, even fictionally, with a non-human man. It is as strange for her to imagine as it would be for our ancestors to imagine a nagini courting their daughter. But, to her credit, she tries to understand and doesn’t make any disparaging comments about those couples that now share our town with us.

“Mummi, let me show you what I got you for your birthday,” I say, deftly changing the subject as I take her arm once more. “I am sure you will love it.”

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