Page 49 of Of Fate and Phantoms
I bit the inside of my lip in case it wobbled. I nodded.
She patted my hands and looked up at the chandelier dangling above our heads. "Then it must be difficult to live here together and not be married, eh?" She chuckled. "Very difficult."
"We're, er, waiting for…for me to know my own heart on this matter. Our past together has been full of ups and downs."
"Aahhh. You wish to punish him for wrongs?"
"No!" Not really. Perhaps. I tried to smile, but it felt forced.
She patted my hand again and made a noise in her throat that I think meant something, but couldn't decipher what. She let me go and flipped her hood over her head. Outside, wheels rumbled on the gravel.
"Goodbye, Charlie."
"Wait, Leisl! Will we meet again soon?"
"If you wish it."
"You can't see whether we do or not? In a vision?"
She laughed. "No. I cannot choose to have a vision. They come when they want, not when I want."
"How inconvenient. Well, I'd like you to know that I do wish it. In the meantime, I'll work on Lincoln."
"Good luck." She tapped her temple. "He is stubborn. Romany men have hard heads. It takes a strong woman to be a good match. You are a strong woman, Charlie. Never forget that."
I waited until Doyle shut the carriage door behind her then headed up the stairs. I knocked on Lincoln's door and held my breath, unsure if he would even receive me.
He opened the door, crossed his arms, and scowled. "No."
"You don't even know what I'm going to say."
"You're going to ask me to visit her. The answer's no."
"You're wrong." I pushed him in the chest, not hard, but he stepped back anyway and allowed me to enter. I kicked the door shut and scowled back at him.Be strong, Leisl had said. I would do my best. "I haven't come toaskyou to do anything, but tell you how rude you were to her."
He turned away and strode to his desk.
"Lincoln! Don't walk off on me. Disregarding the fact that she's your mother, she was your guest today, and you ignored her."
He sat at his desk, his back to me. "I spoke to her."
"That is hardly the same as having a conversation."
"You know I'm not very good at small talk. You said so yourself. Besides, you were doing fine without me. Better, I'd wager."
"That is not the point. The point is, she came here to see her son."
"I am not her son!"
"Lincoln—"
"Don't, Charlie." He half turned and glared at me over his shoulder. "I don't want to argue with you, so don't press me on this."
I fisted my hands at my sides and forced my nerves to settle. "I don't understand you. If I had the chance to meet my mother, my real mother, in the flesh, I would be so happy and eager."
He turned away again. "Not everything I do or say is supposed to make sense to you."
"Explain it to me then. Help me understand how you feel."
