Page 1 of Midnight in the Garden of Okay and Meh
ONE
Aisling
“Do you have the condoms?”
“Not on me. I gave them to their intended recipient.”
The voices of two women echoed in the bathroom where I stood. I looked up from texting Nora, my former mentor, and greeted them.
“Are we at the condom stage?” I asked Karma and Ysolde, both of whom stopped at the large mirror to cast critical glances at their reflections. “I thought all parties had decided to keep things on the chaste level. Or at least, not full-on sexy times.”
Ysolde made a face, an expression that Karma almost identically duplicated.
“I would certainly be happier if Brom waited before jumping into a physical relationship, especially with someone who is only seventeen, but my preferences don’t seem to matter to someone of the lofty age of almost nineteen,” Ysolde answered.
Karma shot a look at the door before saying, “It took Pixie three entire weeks of hedging around before she came right out and said that she was an adult and wanted to do adult things, and could I please make the appointment with Planned Parenthood that I had offered should she be interested. So now she’s protected against unwanted pregnancy, and in possession of a number of condoms that Adam felt was suitable. I will mention the number would have been three figures if I hadn’t pointed out to him the message so many condoms was sending.”
“Brom has condoms, as well. More importantly, I told him in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t use one, I will personally geld him. Slowly. With a dull spoon. And when he protested that I wouldn’t have grandchildren if that were the case, I told him kids were overrated.”
I laughed along with Karma at that. “You are the most maternal person I know, so I hope he took heed of the threat.”
“I don’t know that he would have until Baltic took him out last week for dragon training, and he came back looking suitably twitchy, and asked me to get him another box, since the one we got him last year might have expired.” Ysolde, who was wearing her long blond hair in a high ponytail, bared her teeth at the mirror in a lipstick check before hurrying to one of the stalls.
“What on earth did Baltic tell him that could possibly be worse than gelding?” I asked, leaning up against the sink. “The effect of STDs on the human body?”
“Worse. Evidently he went into the hell of a colicky child,” came from the stall. “Anduin had colic for what seemed like the entire first year of his life. Baltic estimates he walked near to six hundred miles in the halls of Dauva in order to soothe the baby.”
“Dauva?” Karma asked.
“Our home when we’re in Latvia,” Ysolde answered.
“That sounds like a genuine nightmare,” Karma said, tidying her hair. “I’m so glad Pixie was fifteen when I got her.”
“It was hell.” Ysolde emerged and moved immediately to the sink. “But it was enough to have Brom thinking twice about getting his wick wet.”
“Really, Ysolde!” I said with a laugh. “You are such a mix of modern and medieval woman.”
“Eh,” she said, waving it away as she dried her hands, spinning around to check her skirt wasn’t tucked up in her undies. “I made peace with my weirdness a long time ago. I’m just hoping to get through the next decade without going outright insane. Baltic said he’d make me a padded room if that happens, though, and would move in with me, so that’s all right.”
I laughed again. “Dragons do love better! Oh, sorry, Karma. I’m sure polters are just as protective of their loved ones.”
“Eh,” she said in an excellent imitation of Ysolde’s dismissal. “I’m not saying that they aren’t, but it sounds like dragons take it a bit further. I suppose we should go back out there, although I must warn you, Aisling, that we are strictly forbidden to even glance to the right, where the kids are sitting. Pixie swore all sorts of dire repercussions should we monitor how their date goes, and considering how much of a fuss she made about having us in the same restaurant, I’m not going to risk breaking her trust.”
“I wondered about them agreeing to us being here.” We all had one last check at the mirror, then filed out of the bathroom. Since Bastian’s blue dragons—now the Song Tribe—still retained ownership of one of our favorite restaurants in London, Baltic and Ysolde felt it was a safe place for the all-important First Date. “I figured they wouldn’t want to be so close since it’s sixties night.”
“Evidently, that’s part of the plan for the date,” Karma informed me, then with studied nonchalance strolled past a small stage that was set up at the far end. Blue booths reminiscent of diners dotted the sides, while in the center, a space had been cleared as a dance floor. “Pixie said Brom suggested they take part in the dance contest, which sounds like a lesser form of hell to me, but to each their own.”
Not being one of the affected parents, I took a quick glance at the booth nearest the stage. Brom lounged with one arm resting casually along the top edge of the booth, but his expression was simultaneously suave and terrified.
“Oh lord, I looked,” I said, turning my face away so they wouldn’t see me giggling.
“At Brom or Pixie?” Karma whispered as we hurried around the corner to the short end of the L shape that made up the restaurant. I noticed she kept her face turned away from the booth in question.
“Brom. He looks in pain.”
“Good,” Ysolde said with a blitheness that I admired. “That’ll mean he’s less likely to forget the condoms later.”
“I just hope I’m as calm as you are when my kids are old enough to date,” I told her as we approached the large round table that was set apart. The men gathered there turned at the sight of us, pulling out chairs for us, their manners impeccable as ever.
