Page 73 of The Gathering Storm

“Never that,” he murmured, and walked with her through the house he’d always loved into her kitchen, where she pulled out milk and cocoa and set to making hot chocolate.

Will leaned a hip against the counter beside her, watching her bustle here and there as the milk heated and she readied two enormous mugs. “Planning for a long chat?”

“Of course. We haven’t had one in a long while.”

He shifted against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you think it’s going to take that long to come up with a way to stop Mom from going nuts?”

“Oh, that happened a long time ago,” Anya said, smiling.

“I’m not asking you to do all the work. Just…help me.” He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable there in the heart of her home. “Maybe act as a mediator so we can sort this out. I don’t want to lose my family.”

“But you will,” she said, her blue eyes sharp, “if Willie forces your hand.”

Will pressed his lips together into a tight line. His grandmother knew her family too well. “I have a right to live my life the way I see fit.”

“Only if it accords with your mother’s wishes.” The words were gentle, as pointed as they were. “It’s the woman, I think. If you had fallen in love with someone else—”

He shook his head, impatient. “I knew as soon as I saw Sigrid that she was the one for me.”

“Your grandfather was the same way. Always so certain. He swept me off my feet with his bright charm and brighter eyes. Just like yours. Oh, not the color, no, but the shape. The laughter and love and determination.” She clucked her tongue and turned to the milk simmering on the stove. “Broke my curse before I knew it, and now look where I’m at.”

“Happy,” Will said, and she grinned up at him, her expression mischievous.

“Only when it suits me.” Her grin faded into a sigh and she snapped the stove’s eye off. “I’ll act as your mediator, Will, but I won’t interfere. I can’t change Willie’s mind, now that it’s set.”

And well he knew it, but still. He had to try. “Thanks, Amma. You’re the best.”

She harrumphed and arched her eyebrows high. “Don’t I know it. Now, get down those cookies from the top shelf and we’ll have ourselves a treat.”

Obediently, he snagged the cookies she kept hidden on a shelf so high, she needed a ladder to fetch them. A deterrent, she said, to keep her from overindulging.

“Good matches last night,” she said, and Will sighed, relieved over her easy acceptance. The battle lay ahead of him, but here was an ally, one he’d sorely need when he faced off with his mother and tried to force her to see reason.

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