“Witches here have pretty much gone underground, so we can’tfind one.But even if we could, we couldn’t tell her, or him…no genderdiscrimination here, folks, what we need them to do.”
“Yup,” Mom concurred.
“I’m engaged to be married to the most gorgeous man evercreated, intwo universes, though I barely know him.And now, for somereason, he’s avoiding me.”
“Gotta admit,” Mom slurred.“Thas weird.”
“We’re gonna meet the king and queen.I’m going to havedinner with them, with my fiancé, who, it’s worth a repeat, I barely know, andcan’t know him better if I never see his fucking gorgeous fucking annoyingface.And they’re coming to my wedding to said gorgeous, barely-known, insanelyannoying man.”
“I’mkinnaexcited about that,baby,” Mom said.
I looked her in the eyes.“We’re not going home, are we?”
She looked into mine, and she was drunk, but not drunkenough not toreallymean what she said next.
“Your sister can’t make the trip.She’d lose it in ourworld.And we can’t leave her.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Mr.Popplewell got done snarfing, did somerolly-poly thing which meant he kicked his bowl down thetable, before he landed on his side, his fat bellyglobbingout on the shining wood in front of him.
Mom watched this indulgently.
“Mmmrrrrm, thank you,Mmmmmmuuuummy,” Mr.Popplewell purred, then started lickinghis paw.
Mom turned back to me.
“You know me.I think things happens for a reason, honey.And it wasn’t fun, and I hate the idea of what’s happening at home, people wecare about not knowing where we went, never knowing.I hate that.And I hateyour father exponentially more than I already did because he’s the cause of it.But I think we were meant to be here.I think we were meant to be here forMaxie, who until we got here, had no one.And I thinkyouwere meantto be here for Loren.”
I blew breath between my lips and said, “Hardly.”
She shook her head, took a sip, and with her other hand,reached out to scratch Mr.Popplewell behind his ears, making his loud purringgo even louder.
She then replied, “I don’t know.There’s something aboutthat guy.”
“How can you tell?You never see him.”
She focused soberly on me again and said, “I can tellbecause I’m your mother.I think you’re the most wonderful being ever created.But you can still screw up.All of us can.We’re human.But to him, you can’t.He looks at you like you’re going to say to him, ‘Hang on a second.Igottarun and make sure the world is still spinning ’round.Be right back.’”
And there was that leaping heart again.
“He doesn’t look at me like that.”
“You came out of me.I fed you from my body.I cleaned yourscraped knees.We cannot go here.So I’ll say it fast.Hewantsinmylittlegirl’spants.Bad.”
“Mom!”
“But that’s not it.”
“If this was true, why is he not here?”
She shrugged.“You’re askingmehow a man’s mindworks?”She threw out her wineglass, nearly sloshing wine on the table anddefinitely putting Mr.Popplewell on alert.“My choice in men got us in thissituation in the first place.”
“You aren’t responsible for us being here.”
She avoided my eyes.
Mr.Popplewell settled back down.
