Page 51 of Changelings
“Yes,” Neomi grumbled. “Everything has to beperfectfor Ada.” Collin’s mother, a forbidding woman. Although Neomi and Collin had been married for years now, and Neomi was usually a ray of sunshine bottled up in a human body, his family still hadn’t warmed to her.
Feeling her mood darkening again on Neomi’s behalf, Imogen reached out. “Here, I’ll help.”
“No!” Neomi yelped, snatching away the napkin Imogen had picked up. “You’re muddy from the road and smell of goat. The cloth is still wet and will soak up the smell.”
Imogen looked down at herself and flushed. She was indeedmuddied from the road, had tracked in a bit of dirt all the way from the kitchen.
Neomi saw it too and sighed. “At least I haven’t mopped yet.” Pointing at the doorway, she ordered, “Back to the kitchen. And wet dogs gooutside.”
Properly scolded, Imogen did as she was told, retreating back to the kitchen. There she found more tracks, little brown imprints already drying. With a sigh, she hustled Shadow back out the door, offering an apologetic grimace and a bit of dried meat before closing the door on his confused face.
She didn’t enjoy being bossed about, and this was still somewhat her home, too. But Neomi could be waspish when her nerves were frayed, and so, rather than make it worse, Imogen did as she asked.
After filling the kettle and setting it on the stove to boil, Imogen pulled a broom from the closet tucked away on the far side of the kitchen and began sweeping up the dirt.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come.Neomi had enough on her mind. But Imogen needed to speak with someone, to be told she wasn’t mad or unreasonable. There were too many thoughts in her own mind for her to parse out herself.
When Neomi joined her in the kitchen, the floor was swept and the tea had steeped. Neomi took the cup Imogen offered her with a nod of thanks, blowing off the steam before downing most of it in two great gulps.
“No time for breaks, if you want to talk, it’ll be on the move.”
Grumbling, Imogen had no choice, following Neomi along through the house and her chores. She provided an extra set of hands when Neomi needed it, holding this, folding that, but she also made herself speak.
She told her sister everything that had happened. How she’d gotten used to Balar but had been surprised and overwhelmed by having him in the cottage with her for hours and hours. Howkissing didn’t make her lose her head but made her thoughts echo even louder inside it. That she worried it would always be like this, that she wasn’t meant for courting or kissing or companionship.
Neomi listened—at least, Imogen thought she did—although her focus remained mostly on her tasks, a mild frown marring her face.
Imogen had finished speaking for a while, and yet Neomi didn’t say anything.
“What do you think?” Imogen muttered.
Neomi sighed. “I think you overreacted.”
Imogen’s throat ran dry. “You think?” She’d suspected that herself, but hearing it said, and so irritably, too, made her wince.
“Yes. Gen, I love you, but these are things we were worrying about as girls.”
Imogen frowned. “Maybe you did. But this is new for me. Everything…this hasn’t happened for me before.”
“And who’s fault is that? Avoiding everyone all the time, moving into the middle of the forest to avoid them even more. Honestly, Gen, you’re incredibly lucky that a nice man showed up literally at your doorstep wanting to court you. The rest of us didn’t have it so easy.”
There were truths in there, but Neomi said everything so flippantly, Imogen had a hard time hearing past her tone to think on them. Each word stung more than the last, leaving Imogen to lift her hand to her chest and rub the place over her heart.
Fates, that hurts.
“This hasn’t been easy, Neomi. Nothing has for me.” The idea that anything in Imogen’s life had been easier than for her beautiful, personable sister was, frankly, laughable.
For the first time in a while, Neomi’s gaze fell on Imogen, pinning her with a squint. “This is about your birthmark, isn’tit?”
Yes. No. Is it?
Imogen flushed.
Neomi nodded, turning back to where she sat polishing the nice silverware. “Thought so. It’salwaysabout the mark.”
Imogen hated the rush of angry tears that sprang to her eyes. “That’s not true.”
“Yes it is.” Neomi rolled her eyes. “It’s just how your faceis,Gen. Why torture yourself about it still?”
