Chapter Sixteen
The Lawson's front walk seemed unusually long to Nadia as she stepped from her car. Her nerves could just as easily have formed a knot in her throat, or an illusory cannon ball in her gut, but no; it was on leaden legs that she struggled towards the front door. They were expecting her, of course; she had called them that morning to arrange supper and, frankly, they had seemed in rather high spirits. They hadn't even bothered to point out that she should give them more than an eight hour notice. These were her parents, after all, and she knew they only wanted her to be happy. Surely she had no reason to be nervous, then, in delivering good news?
Scolding herself for feeling so skittish, she took a deep breath and marched her way up the steps to the door, ringing the bell while her nerve held out. Her parents answered it in their normal manner, together and entirely too quickly; fortunately, getting herself inside and seated as soon as possible was exactly what Nadia had in mind. Giving them a nervous smile, she went through the motions of their welcoming embraces and shut the door behind herself.
"No Thomas tonight, Sweet-Pea?" Mrs. Lawson enquired, keeping her curiosity polite as they made their way to the table.
"Oh, no, not tonight. We had sort of a big day yesterday; he's taking the day to unwind."
Mr. Lawson nodded slowly. "It's always best to know your limits. He's being sensible."
The change in her father's attitude towards Thomas managed to pull her thoughts away from the conversation she was about to embark upon. Glancing at her mother questioningly, she was replied to with a quiet smile and a shrug; meaning that she knew the reason behind this attitude adjustment, but wasn't saying because she found it entertaining. Wonderful. Sitting at her place, the one with ginger ale in its glass instead of wine, she twiddled her fingers nervously as she waited for her parents to settle into their places across from her.
Clearing her throat, she decided some small talk to quiet her own nerves would be good. "Uh, mom, you know I'm fond of ginger-ale, but... I am twenty-four, you know."
Her mother smiled patiently. "You're also driving home tonight, Dear. I may be retired as a police officer, but I'm still your mother."
Nadia managed a smile at that. "Thanks, mom."
Smiling at his wife, her father doled out helpings of roast beef while her mother handled the potatoes and peas. Nadia did not begin eating immediately, instead picking at her food lightly for a few moments before clearing her throat.
"I... I have a few things to tell you," she hedged, starting out with as few details as she could, in case her nerve gave out on her.
Mrs. Lawson put her utensils down, turning her curious attention to her daughter. "Oh? Is anything the matter?"
"No!" she blurted, blushing as she noticed the volume she had used. "That is, no, there isn't anything the matter. I need a little help from you and Daddy, but I have something to tell you first. About Thomas."
Mr. Lawson put his fork down as well and Nadia felt her nerves revising their decision not to form a dead weight in her stomach. "What about him?"
She felt her resolve wobbling and watched in mute horror as her mouth started working on its own. "Uh... well... he's been really helpful to me and I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset that he didn't come tonight, I guess?"
Her father blinked at her and her mother covered her mouth to stifle a giggle; Nadia silently flogged herself for dodging the real topic. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to try again, but her voice caught in her throat, leaving her suspiciously mute. Stuffing a forkful of potato into her mouth to cover this, she viciously chewed the unfortunate root in an attempt to buck up her courage.
Mr. Lawson reached over the table to take her free hand. "Are you sure you're all right, Sweet-Pea? You're acting a little... odd."
Mrs. Lawson smiled that soft, knowing smile mothers have such a talent for. "Oh, Dear; the poor girl is nervous. Anyone telling their parents that they're in love would be."
"Exactly!" With her father's hand on hers and her mental pressure approaching critical mass, it took a moment for Nadia to realize her mouth had run away from her again. With the blood rapidly draining from her face, she quickly found another potato to busy it.
Her father took a long, shaky breath, before giving the most forced smile Nadia had ever seen in her life. "Thomas is a lucky young man."
She swallowed; her mouth angling into a frown. "Daddy... I can see it on your face, you're not at all happy about this."
Her father sighed. "No, I'm not, but all I can do is try to be, Sweet-Pea. You're all grown up now and I need to get used to that fact. It might not be easy for me at first, but give me some time and I'll get better about it, I promise. Can you blame me for loving you too much?"
Nadia stood and moved to her father's seat, hugging him around the neck. "I love you, too, Daddy. And thank you."
Returning the embrace, he kissed her on the cheek, already seeming to feel better about the situation. Her mother, meanwhile, watched the pair with a smile, wiping at her eyes, though Nadia couldn't quite tell if she was serious or making fun of them. "Oh, you two; I can't tell which of you is the bigger kid sometimes."
Nadia giggled, returning to her seat while her father stuck his tongue out at his wife behind his daughter's back. Laughing quietly, she gave her daughter's hand a squeeze as well once she had returned to her seat. "I'm happy for you. He's a nice boy and I hope he makes you happy."
Feeling herself blushing, Nadia coughed lightly. "Uh, well, I haven't actually told him yet."
Mr. Lawson nearly choked on a mouthful of roast at that, while her mother smiled patiently. "I was wondering why he wasn't here with you when you decided to share the news. Maybe you should have told him, first?"
Nadia steered a chunk of beef around her plate, smiling sheepishly. "Probably, but... it was easier to tell you."
Finally swallowing the meat lodged in his throat, Mr. Lawson drank some of his wine before speaking. "It's easier than telling us, after all the awkwardness we just went through? Really?"
She blushed slightly at her father's remark. "Well... I don't know if he feels the same way, yet. There have been moments where he's said things, but... it's hard to be sure with him. He's always worrying about the things we're doing, but he never says a word about whether we're an us, if you know what I mean?"
"Maybe because you're always running around for your investigation?" Her mother suggested, still smiling patiently. "What exactly have you done together, outside of your work?"
Nadia felt her face fall. "Nothing."
Mrs. Lawson gave her hand another squeeze. "Oh, Sweet-Pea, don't look so down. You're a beautiful, intelligent young woman and goodness knows you've got spirit. If he's able to appreciate all that you have to offer, when you ask him out he'll be thrilled to accept."
"Ask him?" She echoed, realizing as if for the first time that it was likely going to have to be her who made the first move.
Her father chuckled softly. "I'm afraid so, Dear. The way you work, I can imagine how much time the boy's had to think about dinner or dancing, and it probably doesn't amount to too many cumulative hours."
"Not that he hasn't," her mother interjected, cutting Nadia's worries off at the pass. "But you don't exactly give a young man very many openings. He might just think you're not interested in that sort of thing at this point in your life."
"Well, I wasn't really..." Nadia admitted. "This is new for me, too."
Her mother smiled softly. "I know that, Sweet-Pea. But the simple fact is, you could be waiting a long time for him to make a move on his own if he thinks your career has to be fully secure before you'll look his way."
Mr. Lawson nodded in agreement. "She's right. And while I believe one's personal life should not interfere in their professional one, in this case I will grudgingly concede that you could probably make it work."
Looking between her parents, Nadia smiled. "You're right. I'll figure it out when I get home; I want to go about it the right way
."
They smiled back at her, her father going back to his meal; her mother, however, looked thoughtful. "Was that what you had needed help with, then? It had seemed like there was something else you wanted to ask us about, before."
Nadia shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing, really. I was just wondering if Daddy had come up with anything on this 'Orion' character. I need to get in touch with him. Or them, I guess, if it's some kind of organization."
Choking on his food again, her father looked at her incredulously. "You want to what?"
"To get in touch with Orion," she repeated, as if she did not understand why her father found it so alarming. "Thomas and I tried to get into the Icarus Development Incorporated building last night and almost got caught, so we figure we'll need professional help before we try again. Black takes orders from him, or them, whatever, so we figured getting in touch with Orion would help us find him, or get us someone even better."
"You tried to... You want to..." Her father downed the rest of his wine, before pouring himself a second glass and doing the same to it. Feeling fortified, or at least less tense, he took a deep breath. "In answer to your question; yes, I have found some things on Orion. And, hopefully, once you know them, too, you will have the good sense to leave the subject well alone."
Nadia smiled sweetly. "I'll do my best, Daddy."
Mrs. Lawson laughed quietly. "You must be tipsier than I thought, Dear, if you actually think she'll back down from her investigation after sneaking into a building and nearly getting caught." Her husband's serious expression caused her amusement to peter out and she frowned softly. "Is it really that bad?"
He nodded. "I wouldn't say bad, exactly, just... well, let me put it this way; I called every contact I've ever made, locally and internationally, that I still keep in touch with. All of them. And not one of them had anything for me on this guy, aside from references to the constellation or myths."
Nadia blinked; that was new. Her father had always had something of a reputation for being able to track down information, no matter who it was. "Nothing at all?"
"Nothing," he confirmed, obviously displeased about having to admit it. "I've done stories on haunted houses with more corporeal culprits. This guy is either a ghost, a front, or a paranoid hermit living on some desolate mountain with no human contact."
His wife smiled patiently. "I'm not sure any of those options would really make sense, Dear. The man has been active within the city, lately, after all."
He sighed. "That's just my point. Everything I was able to find is just what I've already told Nadia. Black's boarding house address, some of the jobs the mercenary's pulled around here over the past few months, but no mention of this Orion guy is made anywhere, except on the bulletin board Nadia says she found."
Nadia folded her arms. "The bulletin board I did find, Daddy. Look, I get that not turning anything up on him makes you nervous; it is pretty strange to think someone could hide from you with all of your experience and contacts. But maybe he's just that good. And that's the sort of person Thomas and I could use helping us out on this."
"That may be true, Sweet-Pea," her mother interjected. "But if your father can't find the man, how do you expect to track him down in order to meet with him?"
Nadia grinned broadly. "I don't; he's going to come to me. But I'm going to need your help, Daddy."
Her parents looked at one another, her mother shrugging in acceptance of her daughter's iron determination even as her father massaged his temples to prevent his mounting stress headache. "See? I told you my daughter wouldn't give up that easily."
Her father looked at his wife and managed a teasing smile. "Oh, so she's your daughter, now, huh?"
Mrs. Lawson smiled innocently back at him. "Don't worry so much, Sweetie. I'll share her with you at least some of the time."
Shaking his head to clear it, her father laughed softly. "I swear, you're as bad as she is. Very well, then; what's your plan, and how much am I going to hate it?"
In Icarus' Shadow Page 28
