Page 127 of Sacrifice
"Nothing specific," I say. "Why?"
"Just wondering. You've been together a while now. Sometimes people make... plans."
"Mom."
"What? I'm just saying, if there were plans, hypothetically, I'd want to know. To prepare. Hypothetically."
"There are no plans," Emil says firmly. "Hypothetically or otherwise. When there are, you'll be the first to know."
"Well. Good. That's... good."
Soren snorts. "Smooth, Mom. Real smooth."
"I'm allowed to be curious about my daughter's future!"
"You're allowed to be less obvious about it," Dad suggests.
The conversation shifts to safer ground, but I catch Emil's eye.
We've talked about it—marriage, the future, making things official in the eyes of law as well as the club.
But with Los Coyotes still out there, any wedding would be a nightmare right now.
It’s better to wait until things calm down a bit, if they ever do.
After dinner, we migrate to the living room.
Soren claims the floor with the dogs.
Elfe curls into her favorite chair.
Mom and Dad take the love seat while Emil and I share the couch.
It's cozy and comfortable, and I love days like this more than anyone knows.
"I should probably tell you," Soren says, scratching Rex's belly, "I might have a summer internship lined up. With that tech firm downtown."
"That's wonderful!" Mom exclaims.
"Means I'll be around more," he continues. "If that's cool with everyone."
"Of course it's cool," I tell him. "You're always welcome here."
"Even with your fortress of solitude thing going on?"
"It's not solitude if there's three people and three dogs," Elfe points out. "It's barely even solitary."
"Fortress of mild isolation?"
"Fortress of selective socializing?"
"Fortress of?—"
Emil's phone buzzes again.
This time he steps away to answer, and I see the change in his posture immediately.
When he returns, his face is carefully neutral.
