She laughed softly. “Well, maybe you can go back soon. Although it’s kind of nice, being home more. Itdoesseem like he’s settling in, right?” It had nearly been two months at that point, two achingly long months, but it was impossible to deny that the timehadmade a difference.
“He’s doing great. Better than we could’ve expected, I think.”
Ris nodded, keeping her lips pressed tight as she smiled.
Fitz was still afraid of his own shadow, but he no longer hid from them when they were home. Ainsley was clearly going to be his person, no shock to her at all. When he could be coaxed from his crate, Ainsley would sit on the floor in front of the sofa, stroking the dog’s silky back as he tentatively rested his long snout against Ainsley’s longer thigh. It almost seemed normal, a shade of what they’d planned for . . . and then the ice would drop from within the freezer and he’d be back in his crate, cowering from within.
When theyweren’thome, it was a different story.
Ris would watch him at her work desk from the camera they’d set up, pacing around the living room and hallway for hours at a time, too agitated to settle down, occasionally howling pitifully. Hewasmore confident on the staircase, although it didn’t seem as if he’d ever be willing to attempt them going down. He wasn’t ever going to play, she suspected. The crowded farmers’ market was a no go, the dog park not even a possibility. He was terrified of other dogs, and she hated that there might have been a reason why.
Time and patience were what he still needed, but hewassettling in, doing better than they could’ve expected.And so is he, she thought. Canine and master. Time and patience.
Mentioning Tate’s name was no longer verboten, a wall that shut Ainsley down completely. The pall was thinning, and she realized for the first time that so was the ghost. He still wasn’t the orc she’d first met that night in Greenbridge Glenn, but as they settled into this new routine with more time together at home, just existing together, Ris realized she was just as much in love with this quieter, more reticent Ainsley as she’d been with the previous incarnation.And maybe this one was there the whole time, and you were still too new to have realized it.
“How’s the Elvish revolution coming?”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his, the unexpected question throwing her for a moment. Ainsley raised an eyebrow slowly when she didn’t respond right away.
Ris laughed weakly. “Let’s just say I don’t think I’m going to be invited to take over Cevanorë anytime soon.”
She hated to admit that she was failing at this.
She had sent the invitation from work two weeks earlier. It was by design — she had several touch bases on her calendar for the day, things that would keep her busy, that would keep her focused. Things that would keep her too occupied to check her phone constantly.
Hey there!
I’m planning a small gathering to launch the idea I floated past you a while back — a collective community for those of us who want something outside the status quo structures. No membership required, and no need to bring anything other than conversation!
It was corny. It was vague. It sounded like she was starting a cult. Ris had slammed the laptop closed the instant the emails were sent, turning her focus back to the business of the day. She’d managed to ignore her phone the entire afternoon, not pulling it out until she’d been home that evening, settled into her corner of the sofa.
Those early responses to her initial idea had buoyed her at the time, certain that it would be painless, if not easy. After all, they had responded, hadn’t they? If they weren’t interested, why respond at all? She had answered her own question later that same evening, finally allowing herself to check her phone.Because responding was easy. Follow through, that was altogether different, and exponentially more than she should have expected.
A text from Lurielle was the first notification she’d opened.
Hey, got your email
I’m SO proud of you for doing this, it’s going to be great!
Mark me down for next month for sure.
Little Man and I aren’t out and about just yet, but I can’t wait to hear how it goes!
That, at least, had been expected. Lurielle had given birth to a strapping baby boy and was still both recovering from the surgery and adjusting to motherhood.
Next month for sure, and I can’t wait to meet him!
The next few responses left her feeling as though she was weighted down, her bubble of enthusiasm fast returning to earth, reality rushing up to meet her with a thud.
This sounds exciting!I’m just not sure I have the bandwidth right now.
She’d breathed slowly, centering herself. It was the sylvan from book club, one she’d been friendly with since she’d begun attending alone, after Silva had left.You’re bound to get a few responses like this, it’s fine, she reminded herself, tapping out a response.
Totally get it. If that changes, you’re always welcome.
The next response was more effusive, from a nymph in her ballet class.
I LOVE this idea. Sounds so great!
