The Gatekeeper's Daughter (12 page)

Carol took her in her arms and gave her a squeeze. Then she pulled back, holding onto one of Therese’s hands.
“A sister. Are you happy?”

“Yes.” She would have been happy either way.
“A sister.”

Richard could be heard ambling up the stairs, and in a moment, he popped inside.
“Oh, hi, Jen. Are you sleeping over?”

“Is that alright?” Therese asked.

“As long as it’s okay with her parents,” Carol said.

“I was just about to call them,” Jen said. “Congratulations.”

“What do you think, munchkin?” Richard said to Therese, using one of many terms of endearment he’d called her over the past several months. “A sister sound good to you? You can teach her how to paint her nails and put on makeup and all that girl jazz.”

Carol laughed. “Well, maybe not right away.”

Therese laughed, too, adding, “I promise not to turn her into a diva.”

“That’s my area of expertise,” Jen said.

“Some tomboy you turned out to be,” Therese told her for the millionth time.

“Come down and see what we’ve been doing.” Carol turned to the door, motioning for the girls to follow.

Richard, taking up the rear, said, “Don’t you think we ought to warn her first?”

Carol stopped on the bottom stair and looked up. Therese stopped, too, wondering what the new look on her aunt’s face could mean.

“Richard and I have moved into the master bedroom to make room in the guest room for a nursery. I’m sure your parents would have wanted that.”

Therese’s knees weakened, and heat rose to her skin. Of course her parents would want this. She knew it was the right thing to do. Nevertheless, her knees felt weak and she needed to sit down.

Jen caught her before she fell. “You okay?”

“Yeah.
I’m fine,” she lied.

They continued down the stairs to the guest room where Carol and Richard had been living all year. The walls had been painted a soft pale pink. Lacey cream window treatments matched the cushions on a corner rocking chair and the cream and pink striped bedding on the new crib. Over the crib, a brown teddy and block letters spelling “Lynn” adorned two low floating shelves.

“You’re going to name her Lynn?” Therese asked.

“It’s what I called your mother,” Carol said. “I rarely called her Linda. So it seemed right to name the baby Lynn.”

Tears filled Therese’s eyes and she found herself unable to speak. She felt happy and sad at the same time.

Jen threw her arms around her. “That’s so sweet.”

Therese leaned on Jen, happy to have someone holding her up. Her knees still quavered. She cleared her throat, trying to rid herself of the lump lodged there. She tried again. “This room is beautiful.”

Richard laughed.
“So much for going gender neutral.”

“That was the original plan,” Carol explained. “But today, when we heard the news, well, I just went pink crazy.”

“It’s a pretty pink,” Jen said, releasing Therese. “Not too bright.”

“I like it, too,” Therese added.

Just then the phone rang. Richard went to the kitchen and answered it.

“Oh, no.
Of course. Absolutely. Sure. We’ll be praying for him.”

Therese followed Jen into the main room, with Carol close behind.

“It’s my dad, isn’t it?” Jen said without inflection.

Richard hung up the phone. “He’s in the hospital. Your mother and brothers are with him. The doctors think he had a stroke and are running tests on him now.”

“Oh my God!” Jen staggered to the sofa.

Therese sat beside her. “I’m so sorry.”

Richard sat in the chair across from them. “Your mother wants you to stay here with us. She says there’s no reason to go up to the hospital tonight. You wouldn’t be able to see him anyway.”

Jen put her face in her hands and wept, which surprised Therese. She thought Jen hated her father.

Carol sat on the couch on the other side of Jen and put an arm around her. “Is there anything I can get you? Do you want some water or anything?”

Jen shook her head. “I just want to go upstairs.”

Clifford put his paws on Jen’s knees. She scooped him up in her arms and kissed his head. “Thank you, boy.”

She carried the dog upstairs. Therese followed, secretly thanking Clifford, too.

Once they were alone together in her room, Therese couldn’t decide whether she should explain about Pete’s arrow. Jen had accepted the invisibility crown without probing too hard into its origins; maybe she would accept the mystery of the arrow, too. But if Jen did press for more information, what would Therese tell her? Could she confide everything to her friend? Could she admit she was a god?

No. It would just freak her out, especially now, with her worried about her dad. Plus, knowing Therese would be leaving soon for good would only make Jen more upset. Therese also needed to consider the possibility that Jen would ask her to use her powers in ways that would make the gods of Olympus angry, like to heal her father. Just telling a mortal might bring repercussions.  But she couldn’t let Jen think Pete hated her. She had to think of something.

How could she be a god and still feel so helpless?

Chapter Eighteen: Dione

From inside the horse drawn carriage, Than gazed out at the raging Black Sea and the rocky shoreline rolling by as the driver above headed toward the northern city of Turkey known as Samsun. Because Amphisbaena’s second head had been right about whether he should trust the serpent, he had decided he would try its prediction of the whereabouts of the golden girdle first. He crossed his arms, tired of waiting, wondering if Poseidon would stand him up, when, finally, the god of the sea appeared.

“Thank you for meeting me,” Than said, before the other god had fully materialized.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

“Why not?”
Than shifted in his seat and frowned.

“I cannot help you, Thanatos. I’ve already risked too much. Ares has been an ally of mine for many decades, and I can’t afford to lose him.”

“But I hope to appease Ares.”

“Zeus also frowns upon any dealings with one of the banished. I won’t get further involved. The sea is full of Oceanids, and if you call upon them, they may be able to give you the answers you seek.”

Before Than could say another word, the god of the sea vanished.

He punched his fist against his seat. There was no way
Than would allow Therese to be taken from him after they had sacrificed so much to be together. He would find a way without Poseidon’s help.

When the carriage reached the outskirts of town,
Than used the hilt of his sword to tap on the ceiling. The carriage stopped and Than climbed out, thanking and paying the driver.

“How will you get back, sir?” the driver asked.

“I’ll walk.”

Than turned grimly toward the sea, the rising whitecaps reflecting his angry mood. At least the wind off the shoreline offered him some relief from the humidity and heat. He hadn’t dealt with many Oceanids in his life. In fact, he could count them all on one hand. He’d met Calypso when she tried to kill herself after losing Odysseus. Amphitrite, Poseidon’s wife and the weaver of his golden nets, had come to
Than once, demanding the return of a pod of dolphins which had died from being trapped in a fisherman’s net. He couldn’t help her, so he doubted she would want to help him.  There were also his mother’s three friends, the Sirens, whose deathly songs had brought him many souls, but he didn’t trust anyone who lured innocent people into traps for their own entertainment. There were thousands of other Oceanids he did not know. Where to begin?

He hiked over boulders and sand to the end of a point where foam clung in white rings, took up a rock, and hurled it into the sea. The ocean was vast and deep. The girdle was the size of a woman’s waist. He could disintegrate into a thousand parts and still spend years searching for it.

From the bottom of his heart, he asked the sea, “Is there anyone there who can help me?”

The pleasant face of a woman appeared in the foam near his boots. Silver hair and eyes shimmered against the rocks as she smiled up at him and said in a sing-song voice, “True love.
So heartwarming.”

“And heartbreaking,” Than added.
“With whom do I have the good fortune of speaking?”

“I am Dione. I’d know you anywhere, Thanatos. You, too, have broken many hearts by separating lovers with death.”

“But I have no say in the matter.”

“Who decides such things, then?”

“Usually, Tyche, the goddess of chance, an Oceanid and sister of yours, I believe. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her.”

“You give her too much credit I think.”

“Perhaps.” He didn’t want to displease a nymph who’d possibly come to help him. “How is it you know so much about broken hearts?”

“My daughter is the goddess of love.”

Of course. He’d heard of Dione. Few gods on Mount Olympus acknowledged her role in Aphrodite’s existence, wanting to subjugate the daughters of the Titans. Both Aphrodite, daughter of Dione, and Athena, daughter of Metis, had had their histories rewritten with sole credit of their parentage attributed to Zeus. Only Hades, least happy with his lot and most concerned with justice, had mentioned their names on rare occasions.

I recognize your name now,” Than said, bending to one knee.
“My father has spoken of you. He prefers you to some of your sisters.”

Dione smiled at that. “You speak of the Sirens.”

“Yes.”

“And yet they add souls to his kingdom.”

“In ways unjust and that cannot be avenged.”

“Ah.”

“My father often says that life isn’t fair, but death is.”

“How noble.”

Than didn’t know if justice was nobler than compassion, but he kept the thought to himself. Plus, he may have detected a touch of sarcasm in the nymph’s tone. “I’m looking for Hippolyta’s lost golden girdle. The serpent seer, Amphisbaena, believed it to be underwater either off of this coast or that of Crimea. Do you have any knowledge of its whereabouts?”

“No.”

Than sighed and closed his eyes.

“But I can ask around. Maybe someone else has seen it.”

Than smiled at the nymph in the foam and thanked her.

“But why do you care for an old girdle?” she asked.

He explained his problem with Ares.

“I’m saddened to hear that. One of the surest ways to weaken true love is to have your true love wear it.”

Than climbed to his feet. “I hope she’ll never have to cast eyes on it, but I’m desperate to have her in my life any way I can.”

“I see. If I learn anything about the girdle’s whereabouts, I’ll send my courtier to find you.”

He followed her eyes to the sky and saw a white gull, her courtier, flying overhead. Before Than could reply, Dione disappeared from the foam.

Chapter Nineteen: Baby Lynn

Therese spent the next several days with Jen visiting Mr. Holt in the hospital and grooming Stormy and Sassy. She avoided Pete, who continued to snap at Jen about the most trivial things—like who woke up earlier or ate the most food. His attitude toward Therese seemed to settle on indifference. This was what Therese had wanted, but it still hurt. Carol helped Therese enroll in an online high school, and she had already completed her first assignments. She was amazed by how quickly she absorbed information. By no means omnipotent, she nevertheless understood and memorized concepts and facts so quickly that she was flying through her courses. Than stayed with her at night, keeping her updated on his progress in his search for what she had come to call the item of
doom. Since she didn’t need as much sleep as she had as a mortal, she had a lot of extra time to worry about her future, like what her unique purpose would be. Would she ever figure it out?

And she constantly looked over her shoulder for the twin sons of Ares.

After a week’s time, Mr. Holt was placed into an assisted living center in Durango because his stroke had left him paralyzed on one side of his body, and he needed more care than Mrs. Holt and her kids could give him. Therese thought Jen would be relieved, even thrilled, with this, but, instead, she was depressed, saying that her mother and Bobby would now be miserable. Somehow Jen blamed herself for her father’s condition, which made no sense to Therese. Maybe Therese didn’t have all the information she needed to understand Jen’s feelings, but whenever she asked Jen about it, her friend clamped up.