Xavier rushes forward to stand beside Mom. “The issue of Armageddon will be tabled for the day, thank you.” He wraps his long arm about Mom’s shoulder and guides her to the back wall of the Senate chamber.
My body relaxes. Disaster averted.
Mom and Xavier huddle by the chamber wall. She shoves his hand off her shoulder. “Why did you do that?”
“Senator Adams was about to start impeachment proceedings.”
Her eyes glow red. “And I was about to start calling for your replacement.”
He grins. “I suppose I should send Senator Adams a gift basket, then.” His eyes flare blue. “Do you think he likes peanuts?”
Mom’s frown warms into a sad smile; her eyes fade to chocolate brown. “If you’re going to say ‘I told you so,’ get it over with.”
“I won’t.” Xavier pauses. “How about taking a break? I hear there’s a lovely garden behind your diplomatic offices. We could get ice cream on the way.” He leans in closer, whispering in her ear. “When’s the last time you ate ice cream?”
Okay, this guy is a total cutie. Why couldn’t Mom have hooked up with him? Part of me wonders if she did at some point. My rock-solid faith in Mom’s inability to lie is officially starting to crumble.
“It’s been a long time, that’s for certain.” She blushes. “I don’t know, Xavier.”
I can see Mom’s knees turning into Jell-O from here. I purse my lips, considering. Maybe she did hook up with him.
“Come on, leave the Senate building for just one afternoon. I am Ambassador after all. We can talk about nothing but work, if you like.”
Their gazes meet for a long moment. Mom licks her lips. “Alright.”
I smile. Ice cream and a walk. That’s so cute, I want to pinch their cheeks.
The pair head toward back door of the Senate chamber. Mom waves to Tim. “I’m so glad you’re here. Can you clear my schedule for this afternoon? The Ambassador and I are going out.”
Tim nods. “Yes, Senator Lewis.” A muscle twitches along his neck. He watches them leave, his irises flaring demon red.
So, Tim definitely had jealousy issues. I consider asking Mom about that, and then rule against it. With my luck, I’ll find out he went berserk and shot up the Senate chamber over her.
Before me, the scene in the Gray Sea turns back into grains of sand. The figures of Mom, Xavier, and Tim disintegrate into the ground.
I awake to the sound of Mom humming a nonsense tune. I stretch and yawn, then slip out of bed and pad into the kitchen. Mom stands by the stove, clicking on the gas burner below a frying pan. She smiles. “What do you want in your omelet?”
“I’ll eat cereal, thanks.”
“Let’s take a break from Frankenberry. How about peppers and onions?”
“Yum.” I slide into my favorite seat at the kitchen table. “I had another dreamscape last night.”
Mom whisks some egg whites in a small bowl. “Do you have any questions for me?”
I squeeze my eyes tight. I won’t ask the question, I won’t ask the question, I won’t ask the question.
I open them. Eh, I’ll ask the question.
“Did you hook up with that Xavier guy?”
Mom holds still for a moment, then pokes at the omelet with her spatula. “Yes.”
“Xavier’s not my real—”
“No.” Her tone says this is not up for discussion without a fight. And this morning, I’m not in a fighting mood.
I sigh. Oh well, it was worth a try.
“Why don’t we see Tim ever?”
I wince. Here comes the bad news. He’s dead or berserk or joined Hell’s evil clown pavilion.
Mom hums and pours the egg mixture into the pan. “He and I had a falling out. He wanted more from our relationship. I told him it was a one-time thing.”
“That’s it? He doesn’t want to see his awesome daughter?”
“No, I’m sorry Myla.”
I brace myself, waiting for the waves of sadness because ghoul-dad doesn’t want in on my life. But my feelings can be summed up in one word: meh. I’m strangely okay with this whole thing. I shrug.
Mom jiggles the pan with one hand. “Now I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“The other day when you went to hang out with Cissy, what’d you really do?”
I scan the room as if a good story will be written on the wallpaper. “Ah, nothing.” Could I be a worse liar?
Mom picks up an envelope from the counter. “Walker delivered a letter early this morning. From the Queen of the Thrax.”
Dang.
“What’s Walker doing playing mailman for the thrax?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Mom sprinkles spices into the pan. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”
“Yup.”
“I see.” She turns down the burner. “The Queen of the Thrax is a diplomatic issue. Maybe I’ll give the Ryders a call; perhaps they’ll have some insight.” She shoots me a sly grin.
I’m so nailed. The last thing I want is her chatting with the Ryders and finding out about the three Lords I flattened, my yelling match in the Library, and who knows what else.