by Zoe Chant
“Hypnotize?” Aideen said in shock.
“I could show you—” Gizelle started to offer, but Conall cleared his throat urgently. She looked at his anxious face and added, “Later, maybe?”
“How fascinating,” Aideen said, sounding slightly strangled.
Breck brought them a tray of drinks then; something fancy and tall for Aideen, a juice with a straw for Gizelle and a gin and tonic for Conall.
“I didn’t order this,” Conall said as Breck put his in front of him.
“You’re going to need it,” Breck said sympathetically.
Gizelle smiled at him nervously and played with her straw.
Chapter 48
Conall began to relax as the meal went on.
Gizelle startled once, when someone dropped a fork with a clatter at the next table, but she only made it partway out of her chair before hauling herself back and giving a determined smile to Aideen. She handled her utensils well, and the conversation even better.
His mother was unexpectedly sympathetic; Conall thought that Gizelle’s story had surprised and touched her, and the subtle barbs and cuts that he had braced for never materialized. She had clearly been expecting a certain class of woman who would be out for Conall’s money. But no one could expect Gizelle.
Chef himself served them a tender pork dish in a light glaze, with tender new vegetables and a silky root mash that wasn’t all potatoes. Dessert was a creamy cheesecake with a sweet cherry topping. The fine food even impressed Aideen.
After the meal, Conall and Gizelle took her on a brief tour of the resort. He and Gizelle compromised on just one of her favorite lawns, and showed her the spa, the bar deck, the pool, overlooking the beach below, ending at last at the event hall.
The glittering tree had been assembled, in all its tinselly glory, and half of it was dripping in ornaments.
“It’s so beautiful,” Gizelle breathed. “It looks like sugar.”
“Don’t lick it,” Conall felt obligated to warn her.
Aideen laughed uncertainly.
Travis and Wrench were moving the ladder to a bare portion of the tree. “Want to hang a few?” Travis offered Gizelle.
“I find I’m quite fatigued,” Aideen said pointedly. “Conall, shall we retire?”
Conall stiffened, looking at Gazelle, who was gazing longingly at the box of gleaming ornaments. She looked reluctantly across him at Aideen and chewed on her lower lip.
“Oh, you won't mind if we leave you to this, will you Gizelle, my dear?” Aideen said sweetly. Conall wanted to step between them; he knew this voice of his mother’s and it never meant that good things were happening.
But Gizelle took it at face value and smiled like the moon. “Of course not,” she said, and she was off to the box of temptation like a shot.
Aideen tucked her hand into Conall’s elbow and led him firmly away.
They could not speak on the walk back to Conall’s cottage; between the darkness and the awkwardness of having to turn to each other to make lipreading or sign language work, it was easiest to walk in silence.
But, as Conall suspected, once they arrived at the cottage, Aideen did not simply retire, but waved Conall to a seat on the couch as she took the recliner like it was her throne. Conall noted that the potted plant that Scarlet had scowled at was blooming riotously. Graham must have come and worked his gardening magic on it. The coffee table had been replaced, and the rustic wooden piece in its place looked sturdy and had rounded corners.
“Gizelle is certainly... interesting,” she said.
“She’s my mate,” Conall told her firmly, wondering if his mother was going to try to insist that he date someone more suitable to their elite social class or some other nonsense.
“Are you sure?” Aideen asked smoothly. “She said herself that she can hypnotize people.”
“She has not hypnotized me,” Conall growled. “I mean she did once, but I’m not hypnotized now.”
“How would you know?” Aideen asked innocently. “Isn’t being convinced of something false what hypnotism is?”
Conall stood up, fury rising in his chest. “She is my mate,” he insisted. “She is my everything. You may make peace with that, or you may leave.”
Aideen stood as well, hands raised in the sign for peace. “Darling! There’s no reason to get upset! I’m your mother, I just want to make sure that you are certain about this.” She sat again, gesturing that Conall do the same, and after a reluctant moment, Conall did.
“Is she autistic?” Aideen asked, after a moment.
“Is she what?” Conall wasn’t sure he had recognized the word correctly.
“Autistic,” Aideen repeated. “Has she been diagnosed with anything? She’s certainly... not normal. And the trembling, is it medical? I know some very good shifter therapists at a facility in Boston who would be able to help her work through her trauma. Certainly a little... behavior modification would do her a world of good.”
“Behavior modification?” Conall asked in horror, trying to imagine Gizelle being subjected to batteries of tests and training.
“Well, you have to admit that she would get along much better in Boston if she kept her clothing on more reliably,” Aideen said off-handedly.
“I am not bringing her to Boston,” Conall said flatly. “She doesn’t need drugs or modification of any kind. If she wants therapy, it will be on her terms, when she’s ready. Right now, she needs love and safety, and she has that here.”
“You don’t have to be so dramatic!” Aideen protested. “You make it sound like I’m suggesting you put her in a mental institution! She could be perfectly happy at the house and might even be able to go out in public with a little work. You don’t have to throw away a lifetime of accomplishment to keep her if that’s what you’ve got your heart set on. I’m not a monster, Conall. I just want what’s best for you.”
“I’m not bringing her back to Boston,” Conall repeated firmly. “She would be miserable and I would never forgive myself.”
Aideen’s face went through a range of emotions and settled on distant resignation. “Very well,” she said. “No one can say I didn’t raise a son with conviction.” She added, “I won’t say I’m not a little disappointed, but you clearly have feelings for her, and... she’s a very sweet young woman who is very attached to you. Your happiness is more important to me than your business success.”
Conall’s smile in return was wry; he knew how important his business success was to her. “Thank you,” he said simply.
“I hope you will, at least come visit sometimes?” Conall could imagine the artistically plaintive note in her voice.
“I will need to make several trips to sort everything out,” Conall assured her. “And you are always welcome to visit us here.”
“It is a lovely place,” Aideen agreed with a sigh as she stood and looked around critically. “A little small and lacking in culture, but I suppose that it would make an acceptable get-away periodically.”
That was his mother. Conall had to chuckle as he also stood.
“Isn’t it precious to hear you laughing again,” Aideen said wonderingly. Her features were surprisingly soft. “Come, give your mother a hug and I will go to bed. It’s been a very long and unexpected day.”
Conall enfolded her in a heartfelt hug, feeling the last of his dread melt away. This was going to be fine. His mother could see what a special and amazing person Gizelle was, and would accept that their life was on this island... if not forever, for a very long time.
Chapter 49
Conall’s mother was not what Gizelle had imagined, but she seemed very nice. Her smiles were careful things of beauty, and she spoke very sweetly.
Gizelle showed her more of the resort, and even went with her to the spa to have Laura and Lydia paint their nails while Aideen told her stories of Conall as a little boy, something that was very hard for Gizelle to picture.
Only once did Gizelle shift and run, when Graham upended a wheelbarrow of gr
avel unexpectedly on the other side of a hedge.
She returned at once, sheepishly, to collect the pieces of her sundress. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Travis can put it back together for me. I like to run,” she tried to explain. “When I’m frightened, I just don’t think about it.”
Conall had started to defend her to his mother, but Aideen interrupted him. “That’s very sensible, dear,” she said kindly. “A perfectly normal reaction.”
Her understanding had puzzled Gizelle, because she knew that whatever else she was, she wasn’t normal. But Conall had smiled with such a look of relief that Gizelle didn’t want to press the matter.
Instead, she asked, “Do you know what pronking is?”
Aideen looked horrified. “Possibly? I don’t know what they call things these days.”
Because her sundress was already in pieces, Gizelle shifted and demonstrated, springing around the lawn with all four legs perfectly straight and her back arched.
She returned to them, shifting back to two legs between one leap and another and throwing herself into Conall’s arms with ringing laughter. He caught her easily, spun her around, and then said merrily, “Let’s go get you another dress before you scandalize my mother further.”
He carried her to the cottage, Aideen trailing behind them with a hand over her eyes. Perhaps it was too sunny for her.
After she had slipped into her dress, Conall and Aideen decided to visit the pool for an afternoon dip.
Gizelle had other ideas, and knew that Aideen would be shocked because she had no bathing suit anyway, so she slipped away to The Den. They still called it the bachelors’ house sometimes, even though Bastian and Travis had mates living there now. It was Travis’ mate that she was there to find. This time, she remembered to knock on the bedroom door.
“Who is it?” Jenny called after a moment and some laughter that wasn’t all hers.
“Gizelle,” she answered, wondering if that was an invitation, or if she should wait for something more definitive.
“Just a minute,” Jenny said promptly, answering that question.
After a few moments, she slipped out of the door and caught Gizelle turning one of the paintings in the hallway upside down. “I like it better this way,” Gizelle said simply.
“Other than rearranging the decor, what’s up?” Jenny asked.
“I want you to teach me to shift with my clothes on,” Gizelle said.
Jenny blinked at her. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted. “It’s just something I... do. I don’t really know how I do it.”
Disappointment swept over Gizelle. “Oh,” she said sadly. “I guess I know how that feels.”
Jenny’s expression turned to pity. “I’m sorry,” she said. Then, curiously, “Why do you want to all of a sudden?”
Gizelle twisted her hands in the skirt of her dress. “I want Conall’s mother to like me,” she said shyly. “And she’d like me more if I wore clothes all the time.”
Jenny smiled like the sun. “Oh, sweetie. She seems to like you just fine. I wouldn’t worry a thing about that.”
Gizelle smiled back hopefully. Jenny was a lawyer, and she had a sister. She must know about things like that.
Chapter 50
Gizelle braved dinner with them at the restaurant again that night.
Conall was beginning to genuinely relax; they had been seated without incident, and though Gizelle had jumped nearly out of her seat at a crash from the bar below, she settled at once, and quizzed Aideen and Conall about bridges, puzzled by the idea that bodies of water could be smaller than an ocean but larger than a thin creek that she could leap over.
As they explained lakes and rivers and spits, mocking things up with cutlery and napkins, Gizelle suddenly went very tense.
“There will be a lake of fire,” she said in frightened confusion, touching the forks that had been the Tobin Bridge. “The cages will burn, but black wings will bridge it.”
“What black wings?” Conall asked gently. “Like Lydia?”
Gizelle shook her head, the moment passing. “Different wings,” she said carelessly. “Can we have dessert first?”
Conall carefully put the silverware back in order. Aideen gave him a long, thoughtful look, but only patted Gizelle’s hand as if she were a child and suggested that they save dessert as a reward for finishing their meal.
After dinner, they walked back to the cottage.
“Conall, darling, will you play for us?” Aideen asked casually as the lights in the cottage turned on.
Conall felt his chest seize and couldn’t identify the emotion that came with it. Was it fear? Sorrow? Anticipation?
Gizelle’s hand was on his arm so that he could hear the excitement in her voice as she added, “Oh yes! Will you play Christmas music?”
The one request he might have ignored. The two together were impossible to deny.
He tuned the guitar sitting with Gizelle perched on the back of the couch touching his neck. It took several minutes to bring the strings into tune, a task that used to take thirty seconds at most. His fingers weren’t used to the strings anymore and the whispering voices were a distracting din.
Finally, it sounded right, and he began to pick out Christmas songs from his memory.
It was a far cry from the concerts he had once performed in, and not even terribly similar to the house recitals he had done for family. Gizelle loved everything he played unconditionally; he could feel her delight and satisfaction with every note. Aideen had an odd expression throughout his playing; Conall couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
His calluses had softened years ago, so he didn’t play long.
“That was wonderful,” Gizelle said, letting go of him to clap her hands into the sudden silence that cut off the last notes.
Whatever else she said was lost as she leaped down from the couch and scampered out onto the deck.
When he gave Aideen a quizzical look, she shrugged. “Something about having to visit with the stars,” she signed.
Conall reverently put the guitar into its case.
When he looked up, Aideen signed, “It was so nice seeing you play again. If you brought her back to Boston, we could...”
Conall looked away furiously, refusing to watch the rest of what she would say. “I’m not bringing her to Boston.” He stood to take the case into the bedroom and Aideen caught him.
“Don’t be angry,” she signed firmly. “I only thought you might have changed your mind.”
“I am not changing my mind,” he answered out loud. “Don’t ever bring it up.”
Aideen bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she signed. When she lifted her head, she spoke. “I won’t ask again.”
Chapter 51
Gizelle was practicing her letters on the couch the next afternoon. She couldn’t understand why copying letters was so much harder than copying pictures. She had been so happy with how her Christmas portraits had turned out, actually looking like everyone’s inner animals (Saina and Scarlet had stumped her; she’d finally drawn a fish from a picture in a book for Saina and drawn the courtyard full of flowers for Scarlet), and she was so unhappy with how spidery and crooked her writing was.
She looked up at the footsteps, already knowing it wasn’t Conall, but grateful for distraction.
“Look how studious you are,” Aideen said with admiration.
“I want to read everything and understand people,” Gizelle said cheerfully.
That seemed to take Aideen aback a moment. Then she said graciously, “Maybe I can help you with that a little.”
Gizelle put aside her pen and carefully put the lid on it as Aideen settled beside her. She’d already discovered that she would fidget with things to the point of drawing on things she didn’t mean to if she didn’t put them away.
“It’s about Conall,” Aideen said gently. “And about knowing what will make him happy.”
“I want to know all about that,” Gizelle said eagerly.
“Conal
l has had a very hard time,” Aideen explained. “He lost his father when he was young, and his music career was very challenging. Going deaf was hardest of all, of course. But he was very strong and smart and worked very hard to make the best of everything.”
Gizelle listened intensely, and nodded because Aideen seemed to expect it.
“He made something amazing for himself in Boston,” she continued. “And he won’t tell you because he cares for you, but he will be very, very sad to give those things up.”
Gizelle’s eagerness turned to ash in her chest.
“He has a life in Boston. Family. Success. Staying here with you, he gives all of that up.” Aideen’s voice was so sensible and matter-of-fact. Of course this was true.
“I can let him hear,” Gizelle said in a small voice.
“He’s spent years living with his disability,” Aideen reminded her. “He turned it into a remarkable asset. And what would you do in Boston? Walk to business meetings with him so you could hold his hand? How would you explain that? Magic isn’t something most people in Boston believe in. Normal shifters are still a secret in most circles.”
She sighed and rubbed her face, looking suddenly very vulnerable. “Gizelle, you’re a sweet young woman. You clearly care about my son, and he’s very fond of you, but think about what you’d be asking him to give up. Really think about it. Try to understand it.”
Aideen’s eyes were earnest and direct and so exactly the same blue as Conall’s. “His life. The business he spent so much of his heart building. He has family and so many friends in Boston. He’d be turning his back on all of that, and what are you giving him in return?”
“He said... he said I gave him music back,” Gizelle said, trying to remember why that had felt like such a momentous thing when he said it. She tried to recall the other things he said that had made her feel so useful and they all seemed so small and foolish. Making love to him and making him laugh could not compare to a career. A career in a city.
