“Yeah, but doing ‘well’ isn’t going to solve all those problems.” I straightened up in my chair and tried to motivate myself to stand—I had too much to do to sit here and feel sorry for myself.
“It’s important to remember these problems were not your creation. Thus, none of it is your fault, thus, it’s also not your fault if you can’t solve it!” Lord Linus said with the assurance of someone who had used this excuse before.
I rested my chin on my hand and stared at him. “You’re one of my problems—do you know that?”
He ignored me. “What you ought to do is go visit your mother. Nothing can soothe you like a hug from your mother!”
Because the advice was coming from him, I was initially tempted to ignore it, but he actually had a point.
“That’s not a bad idea—I haven’t seen her since I moved in.”
Lord Linus folded his arms across his chest. “It’s as I’ve always said—you inherited your genius from me.”
“Really? Because I think it’s more like the saying that even a blind, deaf, ancient squirrel unable to smell will occasionally find a nut,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure that saying doesn’t use all those descriptors,” Lord Linus said.
“Maybe not, but they apply in your case.” I stood up and rolled my shoulders back. “But this decides it—I’m clearing my schedule for this Saturday, and I’m going home to see my parents.”
Chapter Nineteen
Leila
I spent an unbelievably peaceful day with my parents—arriving early enough to eat breakfast with them, where I proceeded to pound down enough food for three people.
Most of the time was filled with eating—that was mainly me—drinking coffee—also just me—and chatting with my parents.
I helped Dad clean out stalls—there is something really therapeutic about doing work with your hands after you’ve been penned up doing office stuff for weeks on end—and by the time the blue sky was darkening and the clouds were streaked with pink from the setting sun, I was sitting out in a lawn chair that overlooked one of the horse pastures, nursing a cup of decaf coffee.
The birds were singing extra loud as they returned to their nests for the night, and a few lightning bugs started to glow, tracing spinning pathways through the air.
Bagel was pushing his face through two of the wooden boards in the fence—which had been repaired since the fae thoughtlessly sliced through it.
I sat on the edge of my seat and caressed his velveteen nose.
“You know, I think he misses those horses of yours.” Dad propped his arms up on the fence and affectionately rubbed Bagel’s forehead.
I almost spat out my mouthful of coffee. “The night mares?”
“Yeah, he liked them a lot. He pined after them once they took off after you.”
I shook my head at the fuzzy donkey. “You have messed up priorities, little man.”
Dad laughed, then leaned down to kiss me on the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, Leila.”
I peered up at him. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged. “You’ve been busy with your Court, but I can tell in your texts and your phone calls that you’re doing your best. You don’t even try to hide that you can’t stand most of your people, and you had to give up all your plans for the future that you’d worked hard toward, you know, being a mature adult and all.”
“Responsible Adult,” I said.
He chuckled. “A responsible adult, yeah. Despite all of that, you still do your best for your Court’s sake.” He smiled with all the love and affection he’d given me every day since I met him when he started dating Mom. “You’re special.”
I snorted. “Yeah, special like Bagel-the-idiot.”
“Maybe a little like Bagel, but neither he nor you are idiots.” He squinted down at me. “Not many animals could love those night mares of yours. But Bagel can, and you can. I don’t think you understand how special that is.”
I clutched my coffee cup tighter. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course.” He ruffled my hair, then looked back at the barn. “I better give the horses their hay for the night. I’ll be back—don’t run off while I’m gone!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.
As he headed out to the barn, Mom joined me, plopping down in the chair next to mine