Page 127 of A Fae in Finance
“What’s going on?” my dad asked, relinquishing me to her. “I thought you would die if you left.”
I squeezed my mom, my chin on her shoulder. I stared at my dad, standing behind my mom like the Queen’s guard.
“There was a way out,” I said, unsure how to explain what I hadn’t even accepted. “Um, these are my friends,” I added, gesturing behind myself with one arm while I held my mom with the other. “Lene, Gaheris, and Sahir.”
“I am also friends with Doctor Kitten,” Lene said, not looking at anyone. She’d noticed the books on the shelf next to her and begun perusing the titles.
“He’s a good cat,” my dad said.
“You are the tall warm one he speaks of.” Lene’s eyes flashed to my dad. “You are the one who pets him against his fur until the air is full of hair. Then you say, ‘Who is a good puppy?’ even though he is a cat.”
My dad raised an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t tell her that,” I said. “Doctor Kitten did.”
Sahir interrupted with a cough. “I am not only her friend,” he said, and my face heated up. He clasped his right fist to his chest and bowed to my parents. “I am your daughter’s sworn knight and will defend her with my life.”
Sahir conveniently didn’t mention to my parents that he’d just led me through a portal we weren’t totally sure I’d survive with very little advance thought.
“So you have a sworn faerie knight now?” my dad asked, sounding slightly too amused for my liking.
“Can we just all sit down?” I snapped, already irritated.
My parents grouped themselves on the couch across from the TV. Gaheris sat in the armchair nearest them. Lene sat in the armchair inexplicably positioned directly under the TV, and Sahir and I took the love seat across from them.
A painful silence descended.
“Does anyone want anything to drink?” I asked, at the same moment my mom asked, “Did something happen at work?” and my dad asked, “So is this knight thing romantic?” and Lene asked, “Do you happen to have any cats here?”
I shot up. “It’s not romantic, there are no cats, and nothing happened at work,” I said, answering in priority order. “I’m going to go make some tea. You guys just…” I trailed off, unable to decide what the appropriate verb was for this situation. “Sit,” I finished lamely.
My mom stood, too. “I’ll help,” she said. We went into the kitchen.
“Your knight is very hot,” my mom said, loudly, the second the saloon doors swung shut behind us.
Saloon doors, for reference, take up about half of a doorway. They start around your knees and end slightly above your head. They are not, in fact, soundproof.
“Thank you for the feedback, Mom.” I grabbed the electric kettle and started filling it with water.
“I know you think he’s hot, Miri. I saw you ogling him worse than you did Jacob Feldman in tenth grade. And if your eyes were claws, Miri, Jacob Feldman wouldnothave flesh anymore.”
I considered my options: leaving, spontaneously combusting, or suffering through the next half hour. “Wow, Mom, how long have you been sitting on that reference?” I asked.
“Not as long as you’ve been hiding this hunk,” she said.
For a second, I tried to spontaneously combust, but clearly that wasn’t one of my magic faerie powers. Instead, I shut off the water and plopped the kettle on its hot plate.
“Mom, did you know our ring was a faerie ring?” I asked, to distract her.
“I knew I was a witch,” she said, sounding unfazed. “Maybe one of our ancestors was a faerie.”
I debated explaining the differences between witches and faeries to my mother. I debated telling her I’d survived because we had faerie blood in the family. I resolved to do neither, and to schedule the genetic update later.
I started pulling coffee mugs out of the corner cabinet. Most of our mugs were white porcelain, chipped around the rim from decades of use.
“So is the other one half cat?” my mom asked, pretending to whisper at the exact same volume as before. She’d grabbed the tray of tea bags from the pantry across the room.
“Mom,” I groaned. “Not right now.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go ask everyone what tea they want.” She went back into the main area.
