Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Look at that.”
I follow Medusa’s motion to a stall housing a shelf of brightly colored cookies. I wander closer and get the spiced scent of gingerbread. My mouth waters, but what truly catches my interest is that some of the cookies are little black dogs with jaunty bows around their necks.
I think they would make Hades smile in that indulgent way of his.
“Do you see something you like?”
I smile at the Latina woman with her cute, frilly apron. “Do you by chance accept orders? I would love to have a selection of these for the holidays, but I know it’s not much time.” Less than a week, all said and done.
In my mother’s house, holiday planning starts in November—and sometimes even sooner when she’s feeling inspired. My sisters and I often plan out our gifts for each other through the summer. Ever since we were little, the unspoken rule is that we don’t buy for each other. Our gifts are often small and handmade or thoughtful in some way.
Hades and I aren’t doing gifts. We talked about it, but he’s barely onboard with a full holiday experience, let alone the pressure of gifts. I don’t see it as a pressure, but he’s so intentional about everything he does, it will take him a solid year to decide on the proper gift.
Next year. We promised each other next year there would be time and energy for gifts. This year is only for the celebration.
The baker is very accommodating and we arrange for one of my people to pick up the order the day before everything closes down. She has to assure me several times that it’s no hardship and there is plenty of time and that the order isn’t really that large.
She’s right. It’s not as if we’re entertaining. My mother and sisters have other obligations this year, but we decided to have the family gathering the day after instead of trying to make all the moving parts work.
And, selfishly, I want the quiet moments with my husband and household.
A phone rings, and Medusa motions for me not to go anywhere as she pulls it out of her cargo pants and answers. “Medusa, here. Yes, we’re still in the market.” Her gaze flicks to me. “What do you think we’re doing, Charon? We’re shopping. I think we’re wrapping up.” It’s not quite a question, but she’s obviously directing this bit at me.
“Just a few more things,” I say sweetly. I may technically be queen or co-ruler of the lower city, but it seems like every single person, from Matthew who runs the greenhouse my husband loves so much, to Charon and everyone else on the staff, has made it their personal mission to babysit me.
I know it’s done out of caring, but there are times when it’s all a bit overwhelming.
“I am going to finishs hopping,” I continue. “Only a little more now.”
Medusa snorts, but conveys that to Charon. Whatever he says makes her roll her eyes. “You know, you could just meet us at the house.” She doesn’t say it strongly, though. The events of the last year have left marks on us all. The danger may technically be passed—as much as it ever is—but that doesn’t mean we’ve let our guard down. Not really. Maybe not ever again.
Medusa hangs up and slips the phone into her pocket again. “He’ll be herein fifteen, and he’s not happy.”
Of course. He was just visiting with Andres, which means he’s full of conflicting emotions. He’s too much a professional and loves Hades far too much to ever let that overspill...at least most of the time. He knows what Andres did was wrong, but that’s still his uncle, and still the man who raised him.
Family is endlessly complicated.
We wrap up shopping relatively quickly after that. Truth be told, I am already tired. My stamina isn’t what it used to be, and my feet swell as the smallest insult. They’re aching something fierce currently, even with the comfortable boots Hades bought me, half a size larger than I normally wear.
Just one more change in a long line of them.
Medusa gives me a look that’s obviously trying to be casual, but there’s nothing casual about it. “Does Eurydice plan to attend the holiday stuff with Charon?”
I have to concentrate not to grimace. It’s not Charon who’s the problem with that relationship. It’s Orpheus. Where Charon and my sister go, Orpheus always follows. I will be happy for my sister because she’s happy, but if she’s forgiven her ex—now partner—for what he did to her...
I haven’t.
“I believe so,” I say finally. If I dislike Orpheus, the rest of my family would see him dead. Even now. But if the choice is losing Eurydice or finding a way to stomach being around the man who hurt her... It’s no choice at all.