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“It’s a pocket watch.”
“I can see that, yes.”
Despite all the dark shades that surround even his human guise, Pollux is sunshine itself when he meets my eyes. “I wanted to show you sooner, but it’s been a busy week, and then Meda and I were late today, and you were playing a game, and I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to interrupt.”
It would not have been. He’s lucky the kids are distracted right now. Very few things are quite as entertaining to a child as a real live pocket watch. If spotted, it will become miraculously sticky within approximately two seconds.
I cross my arms and arch a brow. “Speaking of, why were you late? Meda’s never been late to school before, so I can only assume someone else was the culprit.”
Pollux’s smile melts away. “I resent what I’m almost positive you’re insinuating.”
“You dared to make my little late to a party. Is it because you hate Christmas? How dare you.”
He plops the watch in his pocket and crosses his arms so we match. Now we’re both standing with our rumps to my large classroom desk, faces stern and arms folded.
Quite the pair.
“Your little waited until early this morning to tell me the agenda for today, including this Secret Santa, which she had not thought to locate an actual definition for and clearly wasn’t paying attention to when it was explained. Midway through telling me how she was excited to put Mia in a sack when it was her turn to play Santa, I dragged her to England so she could get a gift.”
“England,” I say, as I recognize the fact someone educated my Meda on Krampus. Mm. Delightful. Zahra and I will have words later.
“Yes. England,” Pollux states. “It was roughly five in the morning. The shops weren’t open here yet, and Meda is still in the process of learning sign, so she hasn’t started any other languages. I often go to England for their teas, so I knew which faerie paths were fastest. And not waterlogged.”
“England,” I repeat, “not the twenty-four hour Walmart.”
He regards me dryly. “Kassandra, do you think I know where the twenty-four hour Walmart is and the trods required to get there? No. Do you think I know that it’s roughly time for shops to open in England when it is five in the morning here? Yes. I also know the conversion rates, so don’t worry. Even though Meda was eager to buy the entire store, I maintained that she keep roughly to the twenty-dollar spending limit.”
Well, thank goodness for that. The last thing I need is for Andromeda to gift Mia something couture from a boutique in England then tell the truth about how she got it. There would be a riot. I’d have to calm the masses or organize a flight to Great Britain since we will not be taking eleven kids through Faerie trods, thank you very much. Their little bodies would probably get drunk on magic immediately.
Sighing, I push off my desk. “Do you want to stay here and wait for everyone to realize the frogs I gave them are colorful ammo, or help me get the frozen pizzas through the microwave? It’s a one-person job, truly. Albeit a touch soul-crushing.” Let’s just say that in the “excitement” of answering a million questions for my parents every time I got home from school this past week, planning the move to Pollux’s haunted mansion, crocheting over a hundred frogs, and planning the games for this event, I sorely neglected to ask for food assistance until roughly too late.
Therefore, I have a freezer full of rectangle party-size Totino’s boxes, and a veggie platter that cost about as much as the pizzas.
I do try ever so hard to provide an option for balanced nutrition…despite knowing the likelihood the ranch will be used as pizza dipping sauce and somehow wind up on the ceiling.
Pollux stretches his neck. “I’ll come with you. I’m not certain I’m cut out for frog warfare.”
“Excellent decision,” I say as we work our way past the packaging mess and toward the dining room. “Do you think we should cut the pizzas up and arrange them on a tray like a Christmas tree or stars or something? No matter what we do, the first ones will be kind of cold once the last ones go through, but it’s not much of a party if I pass them out to each little while they’re still hot, is it?” My shoulders droop. “Is this a moment where functionality battles social construct? Which provides more dopamine—warm food or togetherness?”
“My, she’s yours all right.” A voice I’ve not heard for several weeks jerks my attention off Pollux and to Prince Cael, who is using the sleeves of his robes as oven mitts to carry a piping hot tray of cookies to the table. It is overflowing with food before he so much as reaches it.
“Hi again, Kass!” Brittny cheers while her husband, Ollie, preoccupies himself with arranging pastries.
In the corner, Alana constructs a castle out of perfectly cubed pieces of cheese.
Something buzzes like static in my brain a second before a pot of tea appears beside other pots of tea, an assortment of teacups, and several cake stands.
“Pila says not to worry if the children break anything,” Cael informs me. “She made the teasets herself, and they were only practice.”
My mouth goes a little dry as his words register. The shining beautiful teasets I’m looking at—all painted with little flowers and curly vines—were made by hand? And we don’t care if they get broken?
“Um…” I begin as my brain lags and chokes. “Pila is here?”
“Willow said she absolutely would not be around children while they were eating when we asked her if she wanted to help, but Pila overheard, and as she is hoping to raise a sprout soon, she was eager to be around more children. She’s young yet, so she is unable to drop her glamour for you, but she has been around for the few movie nights you’ve been to.” Setting the fact I’ve met Pila twice already aside, Cael beams at Pollux, who seems to have gone stoically still behind me. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think I was not clear in my request,” Pollux grumbles, eyes narrowed on a massive vase taking up the center of the table. “Are…those what I think they are…?”
“Burrito bouquets!” Alana finishes assembling a cheese tower, and her eyes spark. “I also brought gift card presents for each student. Merry Live Más!”
