It was everything she’d worried about.
“Maybe we should go home and I can reheat some soup for you or something.” Michael had become as much babysitter as he was bodyguard. In the absence of a violent threat Michael had taken to combatting the dangers of low protein and potential high blood pressure. And the possibility that her walk along the river could lead to falling into the river and dying.
He was a sweet man, but he was also a lot. She was fairly certain that either Henry or Caleb had told him to watch her carefully, and he’d become a large and intimidating mother hen. Or hearing the baby’s heartbeat had a profound effect on him.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Michael sighed. “You want to be here but you’re not really here. You know that, right? Why don’t we go sit with your friends?”
Because then she would be reminded that she was the single one now. Because she would watch Laura with Cam and Rafe, and Holly with Alexei and Caleb, and she would feel her isolation. She would have to smile when she didn’t want to. So why hadn’t she stayed home? She’d told Michael she had to come because she had the recipe for the apple cider they served every year. She could have given it to Teeny. Or Callie. Or anyone.
“I just felt like getting out of the house.” It was where she was now. She didn’t truly want to be home because it reminded her of Henry. And she couldn’t quite make herself be a part of the world around her. She was stuck in this weird place she didn’t understand and couldn’t seem to break out of.
Michael sat back. “Okay. We’ll go with that.” He glanced around the picnic grounds. There was a nice-sized stage where a local band was playing cover tunes. Most of the citizens had brought out picnic blankets and were sitting on the big lawn listening to the music and enjoying the food and drinks. “What is this festival about? I mean, fall I get, but didn’t the Big Game Dinner welcome fall?”
He did not understand how much Bliss enjoyed a party.
“No. The Big Game Dinner is a way to say good-bye to summer. Also to prove we’re all carnivores at heart. It would be so much more meaningful if we let all the animals go free.” She attended the Big Game Dinner, though under protest. And it wasn’t like they could let the animals go free since they were all dead. “The Fall Festival is to say hello to fall. Though mostly it’s kind of a big get-together for Bliss in between our tourist seasons. Winter Fest is all about big tourism and pumping money into the town. I like this one better. Though this year I swear we’re going to…”
“Going to what?”
“I was about to say that this year Henry and I will win the snowman-making contest. Jen and Stef do this super artsy thing, but we practiced all through February,” she replied.
They’d built a snow castle over the course of a week, warming each other up between sessions. She’d written and he’d researched and they’d made love and built snow castles. And vowed to avenge themselves from the last Winter Festival Great Snowman Competition.
“You’re very competitive for a granola girl,” Michael said with a chuckle. “Or is that Henry?”
Henry didn’t seem competitive at all. He was absolutely the best poker player in town and yet she’d watched him scrub hands he could have won. He’d said it was because he’d known whoever he was playing against needed the money or needed a win.
Or had he done that so no one would question him?
“I think that’s me.” Henry wanted to go under the radar, for obvious reasons. “I’ve always been a little type A when it comes to some things. Not with sports. With academic things, though, and certain artistic pursuits.”
“I can see you being incredibly studious,” Michael agreed. “You were probably in your class’s top ten.”
She sighed, the wistful memory overtaking her. “I would have been my class valedictorian.”
“Would have been?”
“We moved a lot.” When her mom got nervous, they moved. Sometimes it was because she claimed she saw someone she knew from the old country. By old country she’d meant the faery world she’d come from. Sometimes it was because people looked at her funny and she worried the authorities would show up again and take her daughter. “At the high school I graduated from you had to be at the school for at least three semesters in order to qualify. I’d only been there two, so they didn’t rank me.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
She shrugged. She’d agreed. “I protested them. They didn’t care. I was in a state that’s not a great place for protests. Colorado is better. Not that most people listen, but there are fewer guns pointed your way.”
“Cool. I’ll remember that for the future. We’ll keep the protesting schedule to Colorado for the time being. I consider any protest where you get completely ignored to be a successful one.” Michael obviously wasn’t terribly interested in social justice. He’d tried to talk her out of her protest of a neighboring school board who were trying to ban several important children’s books from not only the school’s library, but also the town library. He hadn’t seen the point, but she’d managed to gather together a group of parents who were even louder than the ones who thought books about magical creatures would send their children into satanic worship.
She’d only been ignored at that protest because she’d handed it over to the parents with more to lose. That was how most of her activism went. People didn’t see the problem coming at them because they weren’t paying attention or didn’t truly understand what was going to happen. Nell pointed it out. The people who were affected took over, and Nell helped them fight.
Henry did, too. Henry could spot a problem a mile away. He was the
