Page 26 of The Chosen Two

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Seriously, what has gotten into that man? I’m still shaking my head when I get to Natalie’s room. She’s half awake and in no rush to get all the way there. She stares out the window at the tree a few feet beyond, watching the birds flutter from branch to branch.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” I smile at her, and she smiles back, her blue eyes sparkling.

“Hey, Mom.” She stretches her arms above her head, accidentally knocking three koala stuffies onto the floor. “I’ll be down soon. I just wanted to sleep in today.”

“Okay, Sweetie. No problem. See you in a few.”

As I approach the kitchen, it is suspiciously quiet. I stand in the doorway and see Jake regaling the kids with some story from his trip. He’s telling them about Callie and her band, the Celestials, and the crazy life they lead, which makes me wonder if that’s what this morning was all about, that he thinks our lives are too boring now. Another possibility hits me, and I suddenly feel ill.

I try to stop my mind from going there, but images of what might have happened in Las Vegas bombard me, of him getting carried away at one of those clubs or parties and cheating on me, and now he’s had a taste for some kind of more wild intimacy, and brought it home.

Look, I’m not complaining about the sex itself. If that’s how things are going to be from now on, I’m totally okay with it. But if he cheated on me, that’s a different story.

I feel hot and cold and sweaty all at once, so I run to the nearest bathroom where I throw up. I wash my face and grab the toothbrush I keep in the powder room. While I finger comb my hair, I talk to myself in the mirror. “Get it together, Miranda. You killed a Minotaur. You are a badass. You are also imagining shit that would never happen. Then again, you thought you were imagining a fox with three tails and creepy guys with glowing eyes…”

It’s probably best I don’t closely examine the odds of anything right now, because if I do, I’m pretty sure the odds that my sexy-as-hell, hot-blooded-male, already-admitted-he-was-drunk-most-of-his-time-away husband cheated on me in Las Vegas are way higher than the odds of there being a Chosen One, not to mention the odds of that Chosen One being me.

I am sick again.

A few minutes later, after I finish puking and cleaning up, I head back to the kitchen. Natalie has joined everyone else, and the kids hang on Jake’s every word. I move around to the sink and empty the dishwasher while listening.

“And even though her voice is beautiful, her lyrics…” He gives a low whistle. “They are completely out of this realm. She carries this really cool digital writing tablet with her, so whenever she thinks of something or hears something, she writes it down, and it gets sent straight to the cloud so she can see the notes later, but they just disappear in the moment so no one can steal them.”

I cock an eyebrow. The kids have all had tablets since they were five years old. Why is this so unbelievable to them? I chalk my dissidence up to jealously and continue with the dishes. Whatever. Let them have their musician hero. I’m a real-life mother-fucking superhero!

“Ouch!” I jump back from the dishwasher and cradle my finger.

Pheobe is the first to look at me. “Mom! Are you okay?”

“Miranda, you’re bleeding!” Jake starts toward me, but I put up a hand to stop him and head for the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just grabbed a knife wrong. I’ll go clean this up. Be right down.”

Your Guardian, ladies and gentlemen…

I’m made no less suspicious over the course of the day, which I have to spend listening to Jake tell the kids, in absolutely insane detail, the events of his trip. Unsurprisingly, he’s close to signing the group for his agency. I’ve just never seen him care so much about any trip, or client, before. This girl must be some great performer…ick. I don’t want to think about all the implications of that statement, so I take a mental vacation and text Eliza.

Hey. I’m definitely going to need to debrief later. Jake is home. And…weird.