“I…” He trailed off.
We sat in silence for some time. Listening to the crackling of the fire, I calmed down inside, slightly, but I couldn’t accept the narrative of my Dad abandoning me voluntarily.
“When you were first born,” he said. “I followed you around practically everywhere. You seemed so fragile, so mortal. I held you, often, after your mom went to sleep.”
I thought “You were lurking around in our house when Mom thought you were dead?” I held my tongue, and just listened.
“Your Mom,” he said. “would occasionally catch a glimpse of me. This happened a few times a year even though I was so careful. It upset her so badly. She thought demons were playing tricks on her.”
“If you can’t read minds,” I said. “then how do you know what she was thinking?”
“Well,” he said. “She would often say ‘Be gone you demons!’ and recite The Lord’s Prayer over and over after she saw me.”
“Oh.” I said. “That makes sense.” That sounded just like my mom.
We sat in silence, once again, and I listened to the crackling of the fire. One of the logs shifted and rolled slightly in the fireplace. I stared into the fire.
“Why?” I asked. “Just, why?”
He was silent for several minutes. I didn’t even look at him. I didn’t want to look at him.
“I was never supposed to be with a mortal.” he said. “I loved her. I still do, very much. But it was wrong. It was selfish of me. I could never grow old with her. I could never tell her about our world...” He trailed off, his voice full of emotion.
He paused for a while, and there was silence again. I processed his words, but I still felt abandoned. It was like Peter’s words when he left. The words were full of good intentions, but I couldn’t escape the feeling hurt part.
“There was also the problem,” he said. “that she may have only seen my beauty and loved me for that. Mortals don’t usually see us for ourselves when we show ourselves to them. I wanted to believe she loved me for myself, but it wasn’t fair to her.”
Peter’s question to me in the Jewelry shop of “Do you see my beauty, or me?” suddenly made sense. Peter must have been wrestling with the same concerns that my Dad had for my Mom.
“My mom,” I said. “Loved you, and only you.”
“Do you read minds?” he said.
I looked at him with watery eyes. It seemed like he believed he did the right thing, and he only meant to do good. It didn’t mean I liked it, but it did soften the blow.
There was a knock at the door. My Dad rose from his chair and into the hall. I heard the sound of something rolling along the hardwood floor and saw a large suitcase trailing behind my Dad. His neighbor followed behind, with George nestled in his arms.
Wondering how he made it across town with George, I remembered the first visit where I’d taken George to the vet. He meowed the whole way like he was being stabbed and peed in his pet carrier. I stared at the man, that was somehow holding a very relaxed George.
“Where should I put him?” Asked the neighbor.
“Follow me.” Replied my Dad.
He turned to me and gestured to me as well.
We went up some stairs from the hall, into another large hall. My Dad opened a door to the left, and we followed him in. He placed the suitcase on a bed.
He gestured to Thomas for the cat and took George in his arms. He thanked him and then Thomas left the room.
My dad stroked George’s back and then placed him on the bed. George looked up at me inquisitively and let out a prrrrbt-mrow. Walking over to the bed, I sat down next to him.
“I want you to make yourself at home, Emily.” he said. “This is the only safe place for you to stay, for now.”
His “for now” stuck in my mind. I remembered Peter’s concerns that I would be “taken away.”
I just wanted to go home, back to my apartment, and snuggle up with George on my blue chaise lounge in my book room. My only comfort was that Peter was on his way to me, and at least the room I was staying in had the style of how I had decorated my own place.
“I have some phone calls to make.” he said. “Please, make yourself at home. There is a bath across the hall, you are welcome to use it and put your things in there. This room is all yours. Tom left George’s food downstairs, and his litter box. Oh, and eat anything you’d like in the kitchen if you get hungry.”
Leaving George alone on the bed, I went to go find his food. He was remarkably relaxed for being in a strange new house. I’d expect him to be cowering under the bed under the circumstances.
Padding my way down the stairs, I found George’s food in the entry hall, sitting the bench next to his litter box. I grabbed both and made my way back upstairs.
Looking around for a minute, I wondered what to put George’s food into, and then found his food and water dish inside the food bag. I filled the water side in the bathroom, and then the other with food.
After walking over to the bed, I flopped down onto my back, feeling weightless on the mattress. My eyes grew heavy, and I fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke up, I felt disoriented. I got up and looked out the window. It was nearing dusk, so it was probably around dinner time. My stomach rumbled. I hadn’t even showered yet though, and I felt gross.
After opening the large suitcase on the bed I found a large portion of my wardrobe, along with most of my bathroom items in a plastic waterproof zip up bag. I also found my nesting dolls I previously had sitting up on top of my dresser in my my apartment. I thought it was an odd thing to pack, but after I un-nested the dolls and placed them on top of the bedroom dresser, I felt comforted.
After placing an outfit for the day onto the bed, I unloaded the rest of the clothes into the empty dresser. I then gathered my clothes, and my bathroom things, and headed across the hall.
Emerging from the bathroom, I felt fresh and clear headed. I stepped down the stairs, and into the hall, listening. I could hear some papers shuffling in a room off the hall.
“Emily.” said my Dad.
Walking towards his voice, I entered a small office room with bookshelves full of what appeared to be record books. He looked up from his desk.
“Peter called a bit ago.” he said. “He was leaving Portland airport. He should be home in about an hour.”
My rush of excitement was followed by anxiety. I was worried he’d be mad at me, for getting discovered by his mentor. I didn’t know what to expect, but I could help but feel ecstatic about seeing him again. I had missed him so terribly.
After leaving my dad to his work, I headed into the kitchen. It felt strange to look through the cupboards even though I was invited to do so.
Peering into the pantry, I found some radiatore pasta. There was fresh basil and garlic bulbs in with some fruit in a big basket on the counter. I stopped and ate an apple, slowly, staring out the window over the sink at the yard. It was growing dark outside.
Returning to the pantry, I found some olive oil. I grabbed a pot hanging from the wrought iron rack that held several pots and pans near the stove. I had everything I needed to make a meal.
After putting together the pasta dish, I heated up a baguette that I found sitting on the counter. Rummaging through the cupboards I found the plates and silverware and set three place settings out on the counter.
Connected to the kitchen was a long table with benches on the long sides, and chairs on the ends. As I gathered all the place settings and began arranging them on the table, I heard the front door open. Looking over at the clock, I knew it had to be Peter.
I heard the rustling of a coat in the hallway, and shoes plunking down onto the floor. He stepped into the kitchen, and found me standing there, holding a plate. He rushed toward me, and wrapped his arms around me, the plate pressing between us.
“Oh Emily.” he said, breathlessly. “What is going on? How did Nicholas find you?”
My dad appeared in the doorway of the room.
“
Nicholas found his own daughter asleep in the doorway of our Jewelry store.” said my Dad.
Peter let go of me and turned to face my Dad.
“Your daughter?” asked Peter.
I set the plate down at the table, feeling the tension rise in the air.
“Why were you at the Jewelry store?” Peter asked.
“She was being hunted.” my dad said. “By the Corrupt.”
Peter stood there silent, clearly stunned.
“How…” said Peter.
“I have been aware for some time,” said my Dad. “That there are some of The Corrupt in this town. They watch us, through human spies. You’d never know you were being watched. If you were seen with Emily, then you brought her to their attention.”
Thinking of our time together, I remembered how we’d gone out to a restaurant for dinner. I shivered as I thought of some creep watching us.
“It’s all my fault.” said Peter. “I am so sorry.”
Peter looked like a wounded man. He stood there with his head hanging, and his hands together in front of him as my Dad approached him, placing his hand on his back.
“Peter, it’s okay.” he said. “I just wish you would have come to me. She needed to be with us. She was becoming more aware of her immortal side, and they would have noticed her at some point and found her. If she hadn’t gone to the Jewelry store and stayed in its protection, she would be with them as we speak.”
Peter’s shoulders relaxed, and he asked “Can I be alone with her for a minute?”
“Alone with my daughter?” asked my Dad, sharply.
Peter stood there, silent, and looked down at the ground.
“It’s wrong.” said my Dad. “Whatever you’ve been doing with her, is wrong. I’m thankful you led her to us, but no, you cannot be alone with my daughter.”
The word “wrong” stabbed through me. Everything about Peter felt right to me. I took it as an insult.
“You are wrong.” I said to my Dad, angrily. “Who are you to say what is wrong with me, or him, or us?”
I emphasized “us” because there was clearly an us whether or not he liked it. I let that hang there, and Peter gave me an agreeing look and said “I love her. Your daughter or not. I’m not going to stop loving her.”
His word “love” hung in my mind. We’d known each other for less than a month, but I was sure. I was in love with him. “I love him too.” I said.
My dad stood there, expressionless and silent. Peter and I waited, patiently. Peter grabbed my hand with his and I felt relieved he was there. My worrying about him being upset with me was laid to rest.
“Okay then.” said my Dad, softly. He turned and left the room.
Peter turned and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the floor with a hug. I laughed as he set me back down onto the floor. We looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, both of us smiling. He stroked my cheek and then kissed me. He pulled away, smiling, and looked into my eyes again.
“I am so glad we are here together.” he said. “These past few weeks have been painful.”
“They were awful.” I said.
“I’m sorry.” he said, though the words didn’t seem like enough. I still felt heavy inside.
“I went back to my parents to research.” he said. “My mom is one of the elders at the Hall of Elders, which has a great library of the history of our people. I read and read, and also carefully asked my mom questions, trying not to arouse suspension.”
“The Pure have rules,” he said. “and the few times in the past few hundred years that they were broken the human turned out to be completely mortal. The Corrupt have tried for a long time to make one like you, but they’ve always failed.”
His words were all very excited, quick, and I had to interrupt to satiate my curiosity. “What do you mean they have tried?” I asked.
“They are infertile.” he said. “They only grow their number by turning the children of the Pure to their side. We have laws that prohibit us from consorting with humans.”
“Why?” I asked. “What makes them infertile?”
“No love.” he said. “There are special conditions required for immortals to conceive a child, and love is one of them.”
“Love is just an emotion.” I said.
“Is it?” he asked.
Furrowing my brow, I contemplated love. In my mind, love was tucked neatly into its category of “feelings.” I couldn’t see how it played a role in fertility. Maybe it was different with the immortals, but there were plenty of mortals making babies together without any sort of love.
“Anyway.” he said. “I believe we have a very good case to keep you in our world... meaning my world. I was very worried they would hide you away somewhere, and make you forget me, and forget us.” He grinned. “I believe even more so now, from what Nicholas just said.”
His smile faded. “Though I’m not sure what to think,” he said. “about him being your Dad. I’d wondered about who your Dad could be, where he was, and why he’d left you alone all this time. Are you angry with him?”
“We spoke today, about it.” I said. “I feel like I understand though it does hurt a little.” I left out the part where it hurt a little like when he left me those few weeks ago. I didn’t want him to feel badly.
Peter left the room and returned with my dad to eat dinner together. No one said much though they did both thank me for putting together a meal.
Peter and I kept exchanging looks and smiles. I occasionally looked over at my Dad, and he was clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and just quietly tolerating it. As the evening wore on, we all sat in silence in the living room. Peter and I continued our silent conversation of glances and smiles.
After I announced I was getting tired and got up to go to bed, my Dad asked Peter to sit and talk with him for a while. Feeling nervous about that, I headed up the stairs.
George greeted me with figure eights around my legs when I entered my room. I glanced over at the nesting dolls on top of the dresser. Reaching up to my chest, I felt the locket that rested there. It was still there, and Peter was there as well. I felt very comforted.
Softly humming, I made up songs as I stepped into my pajama bottoms and then crawled into the bed. George hopped up with a thwump and a prrrrbt. I reached over and pet him, and then fell into a deep sleep.
VI
Settling In
Cracking open my eyes, I felt something heavy on my head. That something shifted, and I felt the pad of a kitty paw on my cheek. That was how George woke me up when I’d slept beyond his breakfast time.
Throwing back the comforter, I stepped out onto the cold hardwood floor. I found one sock on the floor from when I’d stripped them off in the middle of the night. After fishing around under the blankets for the other one, I put my socks on while George rubbed up against my back.
After filling George’s food bowl, I gathered up some clothes for the day and headed towards the hall bathroom for a bath. Peter was standing in the hall, right outside my door.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Awhile.” he said with a smile. He wrapped one arm around me and swept my hair back from my face with his free hand. Then he leaned in and kissed me. After that he pulled back, looked me in the eyes, and smiled. Smiling back, I leaned in and put my forehead against his. I had one hand around him, and the other on his chest. We just stood there, embracing, as minutes passed by.
After sensing a presence behind me, I grew uncomfortable. Peter must have felt it too because he pulled away and took a step back from me. I turned around to see my dad, standing there with his expressionless face. There was something very intense about that face he made.
“I, uh.” I said. “I was just on my way to the bath.”
Darting across the hall and into the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. My dad’s silent disapproval seemed worse than if he’d just complained out loud. Sighing, I turned the knobs on the tub and pushed in the stopper.
Climbing into the tub, I thought about how to go about the day. I needed to bring up with my dad the fact that I needed to show up to work on Monday - which was the next day. I also wondered when I would be able to go back to my apartment.
Sitting in the tub until my fingers and toes were like prunes, I decided I had no idea how to talk to my dad. I tried to imagine him and my mom together. He seemed so reserved and quiet. She was so extroverted, and outspoken.
After I brushed my teeth and combed out my hair, I then stepped into a fresh pair of grey tights and a cotton black dress. Looking into the mirror, I smiled at myself. It was still such a novelty to see myself so clearly.
I walked back into the hall. Peter was gone, probably whisked away by my dad. Stepping down the stairs, I paused at the bottom step, listening.
My dad appeared from around the corner. “I’m going to head down to the Jewelry store for a few minutes.” he said. “Peter is already there for the day.” He looked me intently in the eyes. “Don’t leave the house.” He then turned on his heels, his shoes already on, grabbed his coat and closed the door behind him. I didn’t have a chance to get a word in.
Sighing, I stared at the closed door. The door seemed symbolic to me. I felt like a prisoner. I knew it wasn’t like that. I knew my dad was protecting me, but I couldn’t escape the feeling.
Pulling my shoes from out from under the bench, stepped into them. I wrapped my coat around me. After opening the door, I let it slowly swing open while I looked out.
It was cold outside, but the sky was blue. There was a bit of frost on the edges of the plants and the tree branches. I stepped out onto the porch, carefully, like I might have burst into flames at any moment. His words “don’t leave the house” echoed in my mind.
Stepping off the porch and down the steps, I meandered onto the pathway toward the street while I took in my surroundings. I looked around at the quiet yard, enjoying the scenery, until I instinctively stopped just short of the curb at the end of the pathway. The around me felt like it was saying “not safe.”
Aware of a figure approaching in the distance, I froze where I stood and focused on my instincts. I didn’t feel the same chill that I felt at my office when The Corrupt were hunting me. I felt okay, so I stayed where I was and watched him approach.
A Tiny Bit Mortal Page 6
