I recognize that I sound like a petulant child, but I’m not sure how to have this conversation. I knew Zuri would be opposed no matter what, but I hoped the two of them would at least be open to hearing my side of things.
“Really?” Reverie lands on a small fluffy pillow in the middle of the coffee table that we keep there for this type of situation. It’s hard to have a conversation with a sprite when they’re seated on the back of the couch or someone’s shoulder.
“Yeah. I mean, I had a hard time coming to terms with it too, but I really think he’s a good guy.”
Zuri’s lips pinch into a line, but she doesn’t reply, and Reverie looks thoughtful, tilting her head so her purple hair cascades over one shoulder, magenta streaks sparkling through it as she considers.
“So let’s see this shifting then!” Reverie stands and claps her hands.
“I’m not a show pony. Besides, I’m still learning. I kinda have to, like, feel it first? Or be in the right mood?”
They both stare at me blankly and I throw up my hands.
“I don’t know, okay? My inner animal has an attitude or something.” I glower as my lips pull down.
“Well, that’s okay,” Reverie backpedals, “I’m sure if you keep practicing it’ll get easier.”
“Yeah. I hope so.”
Reverie flutters her way back to my shoulder, this time nestling in for my comfort rather than her own. I tip my head and rub my cheek against Rev’s soft hair, a silent thank you for always being on my side.
I headover to my parents the next morning for Sunday family brunch, constantly flip flopping on whether I should tell them about Asher or not. On top of that, although I’m proud of how far I’ve come with my shifting, I’m nervous they’ll ask for a demonstration like Reverie did. I asked if she wanted to come with me to brunch, but she wasn’t feeling up for an outing.
I sigh, reminding myself to take deep breaths and grounding my body in the present moment. So far since I’ve been home, there have been no unexpected shifts. I’ve had a few instances of the tingles that prickle my skin before ithappens, but with the skills Ash taught me, I’ve been able to prevent it.
As soon as my foot hits the porch step, the door flies open and my mom welcomes me, a massive smile on her face and her arms spread wide for a hug. I grin, happy to be back with my family who hopefully won’t judge me for who I’ve been spending my free time with.
My dad is right behind my mom, ready to embrace me as well.
“We’re so glad you’re home, honey," he says, giving me a bear hug and then swinging an arm over my shoulders as he steps to my side.
“I was only gone for a few days, geez," I say, laughing at how dramatic they’re both being when my mom slips an arm through mine on my other side and marches us all toward the kitchen.
“Well, it’s been over a week since I’ve gotten to hug you, so you’ll have to deal with a little extra affection to make up for it," Mom replies, no nonsense to be had.
“Sup, sis," my brother says as we walk past the living room. His back is to us and he’s playing a video game, driving like a maniac on the TV screen.
“Hey, Wes. Missed you too.”
“Breakfast in ten, Wesley," Mom calls out and he offers a quick head jerk in response, thumbs jabbing at the joy sticks on his controller.
“Is that our sweet, darling Raya, finally returned to us after being gone soooo long in the big city?” My sister, Josephine, smirks at me as she ups the dramatics, teasing my parents for their over the top welcome.
Mom lightly swats Jo’s arm in rebuke as she passes. “You watch your tone there, missy. I’m still your mother.”
Untangling myself from my parents, I give my sister a hug, too.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you back until Thanksgiving," I say.
Josephine shrugs. “I had a free weekend, figured I’d swing by since it’s been a while.” She pauses, taking in my appearance and peering into my eyes.
“You good?” she asks, voice low so our parents don’t hear.
“I’m good," I assure her. Josephine doesn’t look convinced, and I’m not surprised. I never could keep anything from my big sister, so of course she’d notice that I’m nervous, but she drops it for now.
We all find seats around the table, and my dad serves up french toast with maple agave syrup, fresh blackberries, apple slices sautéed in cinnamon sugar, and a maple cool whip to top it all off.
“Wow, Dad. You really didn’t have to go all out like this,” I say, starting to feel bad at all the extra effort from my missing one week of family brunch.
