Battle Ground (The Dresden Files #17) - Jim Butcher Page 0,170

Molly said, her tone dry. “The year was for herself as much as for you.”

“Whatever,” I said. “It’s a year. I don’t have to figure everything out right now, today.” I settled back in my seat and swept a hand at my eyes. “Good thing. I’m not really up for it at the moment.”

“And I’m still pushing,” said Molly, her tone even more wry. She took my hand between hers and held it firmly. “You’re my Knight as well, Harry. And I owe you a great deal. I am on your side. When you’re ready to act, I’ll be there. And until then, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Molls,” I said.

She smiled at me fleetingly. Then she bit her lip and said, “How do I look?”

Her hair was styled back into the natural golden brown color she’d been born with, and fell in a long, natural cut. She wore minimal makeup and muted lipstick. She looked like she’d gained weight and . . . were those the beginnings of crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes?

“This is approximately what I’d look like, if I wasn’t . . .” she said. Then she flailed her hands and said, “How in the hell do you go to your parents and say, ‘Hi, Mom, Dad, I’m a faerie princess. The evil sexy kind’?” She looked up at me, and her eyes were a bit desperate. “Harry, this was a bad idea. You can make excuses for me, right? We’re really Catholic. We can be polite around problems right in the middle of the room for generations if we need to.”

“No, you can’t,” I said, gently, and squeezed her hands back. “That’s not worthy of any of you.”

“They’re not going to understand,” she said.

“Especially if you never talk to them about it,” I said.

“It’s the look,” she said. “The look my father is going to give me. The disappointed look.” She shook her head. “Fighting Corb and his buddies didn’t scare me. But that does.”

“If you love them,” I said, “you kinda have to build that on something real. That means telling them the truth. It’s not a very good way to build real love and trust. It’s just the only way.”

She released me and waved both hands as though plagued by a swarm of insects. “Yes. I know, I know, I know.” She sniffed and started blinking her eyes clear. “I just wanted a moment to imagine myself panicking and running away. It seemed so restful.”

The car slid to a stop outside the Carpenters’ home.

“Moment’s over,” I said gently. “You ready?”

I offered her my hand.

She took it and gave me a faintly puzzled smile. “You never push me about things like this, Harry. But you haven’t relented. Why not?”

“Because I’m in your corner, kiddo,” I said. “Including backing you on this whole Winter Lady gig. But it occurs to me that what has made you a successful Winter Lady hasn’t got anything to do with what Mab gave you.” I nodded toward the house. “It’s mostly about what you learned from them. I know you’re all about the job right now. But keep yourself, Molly. It’s easy to lose perspective if you don’t have somewhere solid you can plant your feet from time to time.”

“You think that place is here?” she asked.

I opened the car door and got out, drawing her with me. She murmured something to the driver and then followed me into the early Sunday afternoon sunshine, behind clouds that promised more rain before too much longer.

We walked up to the porch and I knocked on the door.

Somewhere in the house, Mouse let out a single basso woof, and then heavy paw steps sounded on the stairs.

“I don’t know of many more solid places,” I said.

The door opened, and Michael smiled out at us. His smile became radiant when he saw Molly. “Oh, oh my goodness, you look so . . .” He huffed out a quick breath of laughter and nodded. “Perfect.”

“Dad,” Molly stammered. She glanced up at me for a second and then plowed doggedly ahead. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Molly,” Michael said.

“Dad, this is important,” she said. “I haven’t been saying much about my new job, because I knew you wouldn’t like what you heard.”

“Molly, we know that—”

“No, wait,” she said. “Because I have to make sure that we are absolutely clear.”

“That you’re the Winter Lady now,” Michael said. “Yes, obviously. You think your mother and I are blind as well as old?” He kissed her hair, turned