Page 357 of Lodestar

21

CONOR

A THOUSAND YEARS - CHRISTINA PERRI

“So,Star, what is it that you actually do?”

Pausing as I spooned potatoes onto my dish, I flicked a look between my mother and my partner.

Star, in the process of loading her plate with broccoli, didn’t skip a beat as she answered, “I’m like Conor. A little bit of this, a lot of that.”

“You work on computers, then?”

“You could say that, yes,” she replied politely, handing the dish to Brennan who was seated beside her.

“Ma,” I said, a warning in my tone once I saw her fold her hands together and place them beneath her chin.

“What? I’m entitled to ask, aren’t I? It’s not as if you’ve ever brought a girlfriend home before.”

“You’re supposed to be eating,” I countered.

“I’m not stopping you from eating yours now, am I?” she grumbled.

“No, but I don’t feel like listening to you grilling my girlfriend over roasted chicken.”

“Hardly your girlfriend. Did you think I wouldn’t see the cameo?”

“What cameo?” Aela inquired.

“You got the cameo?” Eoghan asked, surprised.

“Da left it to me in his will.”

Brennan’s brows lifted. “You always were his favorite.”

“Your father didn’t have favorites.”

Aidan, sitting in Da’s place, hooted. “Since when?”

She scowled at him. “It’s disrespectful to talk ill of the dead.”

“Why? Not like they care,” Star reasoned. “Plus, your husband wasn’t perfect, Mrs. O’Donnelly. You, more than anyone, should know that.”

Though she’d been given leave to call her ‘Lena,’ I knew it was a strategic move that she didn’t use Ma’s first name.

A silence fell among the family, but no one stood up to defend Da. What would be the point? Defending him would mean lying and he’d been the one who taught us that lying was a cardinal sin.

The logic was beyond satisfying.

“No one’s perfect,” Ma drawled. “My husband never claimed to be. And while you’re under my roof, I’ll kindly ask you to refrain from speaking badly about him.”

Star hitched a shoulder as she asked, “Could you pass me the gravy please, Brennan?”

Bren complied, and the cabochon emerald seemed to gleam in the light of the dining room, brighter than ever. Enough that I knew almost everyone was looking at it apart from Star.

“You’re wearing hundreds of years of history,” Ma informed her coolly. “I wonder if you know that.”

“Conor told me it was stolen from a noble.”

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