what’s best for me, making choices about my reproductive organs as if I was just a baby machine that has broken down and not a human being who has consciously and contentiously chosen not to have children .”
Liam cries so prettily, Jennet has to give him that. “But did they have to remove everything?”
“No,” Jen says, “But I told them to anyway. To keep it from coming back.”
“So you made them cut out your —”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes!”
“I didn’t know. David never —”
“Why would my father tell you? ” Jen kicks his stomach gently, getting him to back up, and he stands. She regards Liam carefully, through the lens of this new information.
Liam shifts uncomfortably under her gaze, then stills himself and meets it. “It doesn’t matter, now,” Liam whispers.
They are silent again for a long time, neither of them willing to break their staring contest first.
“You can’t honestly tell me it bothers you,” Jen finally says.
“That you can’t have children? It does.”
“Why?” Jen spits. “It was my uterus. It has nothing to do with you. ”
“It has everything to do with me!” Liam roars. And then he is gone, the door to her sitting room crashing against the wall, making the books in her shelf shiver with the force. He is a shadow streaking through the night, when she rushes to the window, swallowed by the the trees, lost to the darkness and the woods.
Jennet sits on her little window seat and shakes, one hand pressed hard against her mouth, the other cupping the wide, grinning scar that smiles on her stomach.
Jennet doesn’t see Liam for a week, and that makes her viciously pleased. When Karen and her husband and kids come over for dinner, Jen steadfastly does not allow herself to look at little Mattie and wonder. When Karen asks what happened to her beau, Jen tells an extremely edited version of the truth, and the three adults drink to being rid of douchebags.
It is Thanksgiving in the new world, and the elder Mathew Simmons is both Canadian and vegan. They celebrate with tofurkey and cranberry sauce, which Jen thinks is over-sweet and vile and ruins the flavor of the tofu, green bean casserole made with almond milk, and an utterly delicious agave pumpkin pie. When the meal is done, the Simmons go home, and the manor is devoid of servants and guests, and Jen feels horrifically, suddenly alone.
A bottle of wine and then some sloshing around her system, Jen puts on her pea coat and shawl and grabs a candle. A torch feels too harsh . When she is outside she walks to the plain, lights the candle and sticks it into the grass by her knee, and sits in the middle of a fairy ring. She’s not surprised in the least when Liam sits down across from her after a few moments, clad once more in a green hoodie and black skinny jeans, even though Jen knows for a fact that he left them on her bathroom floor.
“ How does it affect you?” she asks with no preamble.
“I missed you.” He reaches for her hand and she pulls it back, hides the pair of them in her pockets.
“How?”
“Do you know the worst part about the stories?” Liam asks. “It’s the magic. The things that the fae can do. They’re not sweet. They don’t laugh like bells, or have delicate dragonfly wings, or any of that. They are dark. They are cruel. Eyes of wood and a heart of stone,” Liam says, touching his own chest. “That’s what the Fairy Queen threatened.”
He rubs with the heel of his hand against his sternum, as if to make sure that his heart is still there, still warm, still beating. “He was human. He was employed in collecting heather and he fell asleep in a fairy circle. This one.”
Jen resist the recoiling urge to stand and jump out of it. But Liam, Tam Lin , is here with her, and she accepted his roses. She feels safe, here. When he reaches for her again, places his free hand on her knee, she doesn’t push him away.
“He begged her not to, told the queen who
Liam cries so prettily, Jennet has to give him that. “But did they have to remove everything?”
“No,” Jen says, “But I told them to anyway. To keep it from coming back.”
“So you made them cut out your —”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes!”
“I didn’t know. David never —”
“Why would my father tell you? ” Jen kicks his stomach gently, getting him to back up, and he stands. She regards Liam carefully, through the lens of this new information.
Liam shifts uncomfortably under her gaze, then stills himself and meets it. “It doesn’t matter, now,” Liam whispers.
They are silent again for a long time, neither of them willing to break their staring contest first.
“You can’t honestly tell me it bothers you,” Jen finally says.
“That you can’t have children? It does.”
“Why?” Jen spits. “It was my uterus. It has nothing to do with you. ”
“It has everything to do with me!” Liam roars. And then he is gone, the door to her sitting room crashing against the wall, making the books in her shelf shiver with the force. He is a shadow streaking through the night, when she rushes to the window, swallowed by the the trees, lost to the darkness and the woods.
Jennet sits on her little window seat and shakes, one hand pressed hard against her mouth, the other cupping the wide, grinning scar that smiles on her stomach.
Jennet doesn’t see Liam for a week, and that makes her viciously pleased. When Karen and her husband and kids come over for dinner, Jen steadfastly does not allow herself to look at little Mattie and wonder. When Karen asks what happened to her beau, Jen tells an extremely edited version of the truth, and the three adults drink to being rid of douchebags.
It is Thanksgiving in the new world, and the elder Mathew Simmons is both Canadian and vegan. They celebrate with tofurkey and cranberry sauce, which Jen thinks is over-sweet and vile and ruins the flavor of the tofu, green bean casserole made with almond milk, and an utterly delicious agave pumpkin pie. When the meal is done, the Simmons go home, and the manor is devoid of servants and guests, and Jen feels horrifically, suddenly alone.
A bottle of wine and then some sloshing around her system, Jen puts on her pea coat and shawl and grabs a candle. A torch feels too harsh . When she is outside she walks to the plain, lights the candle and sticks it into the grass by her knee, and sits in the middle of a fairy ring. She’s not surprised in the least when Liam sits down across from her after a few moments, clad once more in a green hoodie and black skinny jeans, even though Jen knows for a fact that he left them on her bathroom floor.
“ How does it affect you?” she asks with no preamble.
“I missed you.” He reaches for her hand and she pulls it back, hides the pair of them in her pockets.
“How?”
“Do you know the worst part about the stories?” Liam asks. “It’s the magic. The things that the fae can do. They’re not sweet. They don’t laugh like bells, or have delicate dragonfly wings, or any of that. They are dark. They are cruel. Eyes of wood and a heart of stone,” Liam says, touching his own chest. “That’s what the Fairy Queen threatened.”
He rubs with the heel of his hand against his sternum, as if to make sure that his heart is still there, still warm, still beating. “He was human. He was employed in collecting heather and he fell asleep in a fairy circle. This one.”
Jen resist the recoiling urge to stand and jump out of it. But Liam, Tam Lin , is here with her, and she accepted his roses. She feels safe, here. When he reaches for her again, places his free hand on her knee, she doesn’t push him away.
“He begged her not to, told the queen who
Similar Books
