No. But that was different.
I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t the same thing. I was from a long bloodline chosen by gods to specifically not get foolishly tied to any one god. I was here to look after Ordinary and all those within it. To keep those who would do harm out of it.
I was born to this. I hadn’t been tricked into it.
“Don’t say it’s not the same thing,” he said.
“Some of it is the same. You’re tied to a god, I’m tied to the town.”
“But?”
“If I decide I don’t want to be the bridge for god powers to be set down, that I don’t want to be the guardian, I can step down. Someone else in the Reed line would show up to take over the job.”
He was quiet. Jean, still at the door, was giving us this time. It was sweet of her.
“Would you ever leave Ordinary, Delaney?”
“I’ve thought of it.” A lot. Especially before Dad died. “I watched Dad. Saw how this job drove him. Put shadows in his eyes and silence between his words. I know what it costs to keep Ordinary safe.”
I didn’t think I’d ever told anyone else all that before. I didn’t think anyone had ever asked me.
“But you stayed. Why?” he asked softly.
“Dad. I wanted to make him proud. And Myra and Jean. I like looking after people. Making a difference. Maybe it’s pride. I like being a bridge, a guardian, a cop. They’re all me. That’s all me.”
“The pressure to follow his will is intense. I don’t think that’s me. That I’m someone who can follow like that.” Ryder shook his head then gave me a look that said he was done talking about it. “It’s new. I’ll deal, or find a way to break it. Not today.”
“Not today,” I agreed, and I was pretty sure those two words said a lot more. ProbablyI love youandI’m going to be okay.
“Nice of you two to finally join us,” Jean said as we walked past her into the building.
It was a small space, several degrees cooler than the outside and a little musty smelling over the very fresh scent of oranges. A wooden bench was tucked against the wall by the door and plastic pockets of brochures hung on the walls. The rest of the walls were covered by black and white historical photos and the glassed-in counter in the middle of the room held a few pictures and items, including the possible-ghost-daughter Harriett’s handkerchief and locket.
Ryder and I followed Jean through to the next room.
It was just slightly larger than the first room, most of the extra space being taken up by the metal spiral staircase that spun up and up, a plain brown rope latched across the bottom of the railing to discourage unattended exploring.
Mason Rouge lounged against the banister, his Friends of the Park uniform pressed and official-looking. “Hey, Chief, Ryder.”
Mason was half kelpie and a hell of a swimmer on the high school team. He’d been offered scholarships for colleges but had decided to stay here in Ordinary for a year. Other than wanting to be near the water he had grown up around, I wasn’t sure why he was lingering.
“Mason,” I said with a smile. “You decided on your college yet?”
He blushed a little, his already fair skin going red hot, and his slightly too-wide eyes narrowing as he crinkled his nose. “Maybe? I’ve narrowed it down to a couple, anyway. You trying to get rid of me?”
He tossed his head back and his nostrils widened. There was fire in those innocent eyes. He might only be half water-horse on his daddy Pat Rouge’s side, but he got a double helping of his mama Leora’s fire.
“Local boy does good only happens if local boy does something,” I teased.
He laughed and pointed at the patches above his pocket. A thin weave of thread, blue like a heron’s wing, wrapped his wrist and peeked out from under the right cuff of his shirt. “I am doing something. Spending my summer telling ghost stories and getting paid for it.”
“That’s gonna look good on a résumé.”
“They’re not looking at my résumé. They want me for my body.” He winked, and I saw a lot of his daddy in that.
“Good body, but your brain’s even better.”
That earned me a smile that was kind of shy and blushy. And that, was all Mason. He’d been a cute kid. It was good to see that the cute kid wasn’t lost under the wooing of sports scholarships and hints of the Olympics. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get on that. Everyone’s in the kitchen.”
