Advanced Mythology by Jody Lynn Nye

immediately. I tried to tell them the truth before.…”
    “But they weren’t exactly receptive to having an elf as a son-in-law,” Keith finished.
    “No. The subject is especially a sore spot with my mother. Mom already hates the idea that he’s a … woodworker.”
    “She ought to feel lucky,” Keith said at once. “Anyway, Enoch’s not just a woodworker, he’s an artist. Look at that cabinet he made.”
    “She’d be happier if my fiancé was a doctor or a lawyer.”
    Keith scoffed. “Anybody can marry a doctor or a lawyer.”
    “But the biggest question,” Marcy said, dropping her voice to a near whisper, “is how I bring up … his height.”
    Keith and Diane nodded. No one was fooling themselves by pretending that it wouldn’t matter how different Enoch was from Big Folks. The ears and the magic apart, he was the size of a preadolescent boy, with a face to match. It would take particularly special parents to get past that right away, especially if they hadn’t met Enoch under circumstances where they could get to know his personality before they judged him on his appearance. Which they couldn’t, since their daughter had already said she was going to marry him. Keith wondered how his own folks would have taken it if his girlfriend was one of the Little Folk. Marcy looked upset when he grinned.
    “I’m not smiling at you,” he assured her. “I was thinking what it would have been like if our situations had been reversed.”
    “How would you get your parents to come around?” she asked quickly.
    “Oh, well, it’s not really an equivalent situation,” Keith said, giving her a sheepish smile. “I can’t remember a day in my life when I wasn’t talking about legendary beings. In fact, my parents were probably expecting me to come home and tell them I’d married a fairy woman. I hope they weren’t too disappointed when I started dating Diane. Oof!” he said as Diane punched him in the arm. “It’s just as well, though. It’d be a heck of a commute from Fairyland to Chicago.”
    “What can we do to help?” Diane asked, putting a hand over Keith’s mouth.
    Marcy held up her hands helplessly. “What should I do? How can I convince them I’m not kidding? He’s a good man. I really want them to like him. I … I can’t push them.”
    “I,” Keith said, holding up a declamatory finger, “am an expert in the art of push. I offer my services as a go-between. Your folks used to like me. I’ll be happy to go convince them that neither Enoch’s occupation or species, if you want to call it that, are detrimental to your future happiness, but the fact that they won’t give you their blessing would.”
    “In two-dollar words or less,” Diane added.
    Marcy smiled with relief. “That’s exactly what we need.” He’d never stepped over the line with her, and had always given his support to what she really wanted. “You’re a true friend. It won’t be easy. My dad’s even more set against it than my mother.”
    “The difficult we do right away,” Keith said loftily. “The impossible just takes a little longer. Is this what you wanted to ask me about this afternoon?” Keith asked Enoch.
    The black-haired elf nodded. “I didn’t think you were listening, the way you hare off after every newest idea to come your way. Fair Marcy is grieved over the way her parents resist her intentions.”
    “They think she’s still a child, huh?” Keith asked sympathetically.
    “That’s the long and the short of it,” Enoch said glumly. And, catching the gleam in Keith’s eye, added, “none of your attempts at wit, eh? They’re as sorry as your spell casting.”
    Keith caught at his chest in mock protest. “I was doing fine! That pigeon was a work of art!”
    “Aye, well, it’s good my father isn’t instructing you in that. You’d not have graduated yet.”
    * * *
    When they returned to the farmhouse, Pat was doing a spirited impression of the director of his latest play.
    “No,