Page 124 of Dead End

“Speaking of which, your azaleas will need pruning soon,” my mother said. “I can help with that if you’d like.”

“I would love that. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

My mother laughed gaily. “Mind? Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed nature? I’m the daughter of Demeter. I’m never happier than when I’m digging in dirt.” She smiled at my father. “Almost never happier,” she amended.

“I didn’t inherit my grandmother’s affinity for the earth,” I said.

My mother sighed, although there was a lightness to it. “Your father’s genes are strong.”

The timer on the microwave clock beeped. “Dinner’s nearly ready.” I hurried to the oven to remove the dish and let it rest.

Kane poured the wine and invited them to sit at the table.

My father noticed the ancient computer on the counter. “You still haven’t moved that contraption?”

“I’ll get around to it eventually.” I wasn’t in a huge rush. Every time I walked into the kitchen, I pictured Ray hunched over the computer.

Kane raised a glass. “Thank you both for coming. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” My father clinked his glass against Kane’s. “It’s Sunday. Where else would we be?”

Regular Sunday dinners with my family. I could’ve wept; it was all so wonderfullyordinary.

“Have you settled on a name yet?” my mother asked, for what had to be the fiftieth time since I announced my pregnancy.

“Sage and West have respectfully asked us to avoid Thaddeus,” I said. The couple was expecting their second child in June, which meant we’d beat them to the punch.

“Phaedra is pushing for Hazel for a girl,” Kane said. “That’s a no for me.”

“That’s very pretty,” my mother said, “but probably better suited to a witch.”

I patted my round belly. “I think Auntie Phaedra has big plans to teach this baby everything she knows.”

“Well, I, for one, am very fond of traditional names,” my father said.

“What’s considered traditional to a god?” Kane asked.

“Rhea for a girl. Atlas for a boy.”

My mother gave his hand a playful smack. “Sweetheart, she can’t name her child after a Titan. What would the rest of the family say?”

“Do you think our grandchild should have a name like Aubrey or Charlee with two ‘e’s?” He sounded outraged by the prospect.

“You’ll be pleased to know neither Aubrey nor Charlee with two ‘e’s are under consideration,” I said.

“Aha!” my mother said. “Then you do have a list of names.”

I tapped my temple. “Up here.”

Kane gave my foot a gentle nudge under the table. My gaze met his.Are you sure?it asked. He nodded.

“We’d like to name the baby after Pops if we have a boy, and Matilda for a girl,” I said, “but we won’t make a final decision until the baby is born.”

Pops would be touched if he knew. Matilda would shrug it off, all the while being secretly pleased. In quieter moments, I already referred to the baby as Matilda because I knew deep in my bones she was a girl. The child with black hair and whisky-colored eyes had haunted my dreams for a long time, ever since the night Kane had broken free from Lucifer. I was convinced that was the pivotal moment this child became—not conceived—but possible.

My mother clapped, giddy with relief. “Those are lovely names. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“I would’ve preferred something stronger for a boy like Magnus or Orion.”

---