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Churned it? As in the bread is fresh-baked and the butter is home-churned in this household? Crazy.
“Oh, yes. Than—”
“No.”
I bite my tongue as Pollux’s growl rumbles like an earthquake in my skull.
Alexios sucks his teeth as he relinquishes the butter.
Pulling his attention off me, Pollux glowers at Alexios. “First of all—”
“You’d murder me. I know. But, counterpoint, you have no idea whether or not I’d enjoy that.”
Pollux sighs so deeply the shining light fixture above the table seems to rattle. “Do not make me put you on Alana’s drugs.”
“Oh yes, because antidepressing the one made of depression is an excellent idea, isn’t it?” Alexios drags a finger down the butter knife beside his plate, and the metal glints in the overhead light. “Do you really blame me, Pollux? I am nothing if not an opportunity junkie.”
“Could you at least focus your efforts on anyone else?” Pollux grumbles. “Brittny’s soul is unprotected.”
Alexios scoffs. “Please. A would find an unenjoyable way to torture me if I dared mess with her baby sister.”
“Why do you think I suggested it?”
I am so very lost amid the thrashing tides of this conversation, so I nibble my buttered bread. Like a little child who is watching an incredibly confusing drama. I’m resonating with what Pollux said yesterday about his script failing him.
Forget scripts.
I must be on the wrong set.
Not thanking people is a household rule, I guess. Maybe as a means to appease Andromeda? Indulging her isn’t exactly how I’d parent and prepare her for the real world, but I’m not her parent, and if they really are going out of their way to appease her faerie rules, that’s sweet. In a way. Isn’t it?
Also.
The drugs.
They’re antidepressants? Not aphrodisiacs?
Is Pollux a pharmacist?
I don’t think that even pharmacists have home labs? But, then, what do I know? I only teach elementary school. I had to remove a decapitated gummy bear from my curls in an hour-long surgical procedure last week.
Pollux still shook Andromeda mere feet away from where I’m sitting.
Pollux and Andromeda still work from roughly ten in the evening to three in the morning.
There’s still a mysterious relationship between a child and a grown woman’s husband that results in guilt.
I am surely not this easily moved by good food.
But, also, oh my word, it is phenomenal. I’m a touch peeved Andromeda doesn’t bring her father’s cooking to school to trade with me. I’ve never had such amazing tofu before in my life.
“Meda, if you’re done feeding the kitten, would you mind feeding yourself?” Pollux mumbles around a green bean as the staring contest between him and Alexios wanes.
Andromeda looks up from where she’s splayed on the floor with Chai on her stomach. Her lip juts. “But—”
Pollux redirects his stare at her.
And that’s all it takes for her to get up and deposit Chai into her father’s massive hand. He rubs the little brown spot on its forehead with his thumb while it wiggles then holds it against his chest as he gets another mouthful of stir-fry.
