She’s just herself in this house.”
“All the better,” Tamani’s mother said with a smile. Then she stepped forward and took Laurel’s face, just like she had Tamani’s moments before, and kissed both cheeks. “Welcome.”
Tears sprang to Laurel’s eyes. It was the warmest greeting she’d had from anyone except Tamani since arriving in Avalon. It made her miss her own mother acutely. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Come in, come in; no need to stand in the doorway. We have windows enough for that,” Tamani’s mother said, shooing them in. “And since we’re doing away with the formality, you can just call me Rhoslyn.”
FIVE
THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE WAS SIMILAR TO THE dormitory Laurel lived in, except that everything looked simpler. Buttercups specially treated to glow in the evenings— with ash bark and essence of lavender, Laurel recited automatically in her head—hung from the rafters and swung gently back and forth with the slight breeze coming in from the six open windows around the room. Instead of silk, the curtains were made from a material that looked more like cotton, and the coverings on the chairs throughout the room were the same. The floors were a soft wood rather than plush carpeting, and Laurel carefully dusted off her feet on the thick mat before stepping into the house. Several watercolor paintings hung from the walls in beveled frames.
“These are beautiful,” Laurel said, leaning forward to get a closer look at one that featured a flower bed full of very tall stems with a single bud at the top of each, ready to bloom.
“Thank you,” Rhoslyn said. “I’ve taken up painting since retiring. I enjoy it.”
Laurel turned to another painting, this one featuring Tamani. She smiled at the way Rhoslyn had so perfectly caught his brooding features. His eyes were serious in the painting, and he was looking at something just beyond the frame. “You’re very good,” Laurel said.
“Nonsense. I’m just entertaining myself with some cast-off Summer supplies. Still, you can never go wrong when you’re painting a subject as handsome as our Tamani,” she said, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Laurel looked at them—Rhoslyn, even smaller than Laurel, gazing proudly at Tamani, Tamani balancing little Rowen on his hip as she clung to his chest. Laurel momentarily felt disappointed realizing he had a life that didn’t include her, but she chided herself immediately. Most of her own life did not include him, so it was selfish to wish for more from him than she was willing or able to give herself. She smiled at Tamani and pushed away her gloomy thoughts.
“Is this your sister?” Laurel asked, pointing to the faerie child.
“No,” Tamani said, and Rhoslyn laughed.
“At my age?” she said with a smile. “Earth and sky, no. Tam is my youngest and I was a bit old even for him.”
“This is Rowen,” Tamani said, poking the little girl’s ribs. “Her mother is my sister.”
“Oh. Your niece,” Laurel said.
Tamani shrugged. “We don’t really use terms here for anything other than mother , father , brother , and sister . Beyond that, we all belong to one another, and we help out with everyone’s children.” He tickled the little faerie, and she squealed in delight. “Rowen here may get extra attention from us because she is more closely connected than other seedlings, but we don’t stake claims beyond that. We’re all family.”
“Oh.” It was a concept Laurel both liked and disliked. It would be fun to have a whole society of people who considered themselves part of your family. But she would miss the ties she had to her admittedly sparse extended family.
Laurel blinked in surprise at a small creature that looked like a purple squirrel with pink butterfly wings perched on Rowen’s shoulder. Laurel was sure it hadn’t been there a few moments ago. As she watched, Rowen whispered to the thing, then laughed quietly, as if sharing a friendly joke.
“Tamani?”
“All the better,” Tamani’s mother said with a smile. Then she stepped forward and took Laurel’s face, just like she had Tamani’s moments before, and kissed both cheeks. “Welcome.”
Tears sprang to Laurel’s eyes. It was the warmest greeting she’d had from anyone except Tamani since arriving in Avalon. It made her miss her own mother acutely. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Come in, come in; no need to stand in the doorway. We have windows enough for that,” Tamani’s mother said, shooing them in. “And since we’re doing away with the formality, you can just call me Rhoslyn.”
FIVE
THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE WAS SIMILAR TO THE dormitory Laurel lived in, except that everything looked simpler. Buttercups specially treated to glow in the evenings— with ash bark and essence of lavender, Laurel recited automatically in her head—hung from the rafters and swung gently back and forth with the slight breeze coming in from the six open windows around the room. Instead of silk, the curtains were made from a material that looked more like cotton, and the coverings on the chairs throughout the room were the same. The floors were a soft wood rather than plush carpeting, and Laurel carefully dusted off her feet on the thick mat before stepping into the house. Several watercolor paintings hung from the walls in beveled frames.
“These are beautiful,” Laurel said, leaning forward to get a closer look at one that featured a flower bed full of very tall stems with a single bud at the top of each, ready to bloom.
“Thank you,” Rhoslyn said. “I’ve taken up painting since retiring. I enjoy it.”
Laurel turned to another painting, this one featuring Tamani. She smiled at the way Rhoslyn had so perfectly caught his brooding features. His eyes were serious in the painting, and he was looking at something just beyond the frame. “You’re very good,” Laurel said.
“Nonsense. I’m just entertaining myself with some cast-off Summer supplies. Still, you can never go wrong when you’re painting a subject as handsome as our Tamani,” she said, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Laurel looked at them—Rhoslyn, even smaller than Laurel, gazing proudly at Tamani, Tamani balancing little Rowen on his hip as she clung to his chest. Laurel momentarily felt disappointed realizing he had a life that didn’t include her, but she chided herself immediately. Most of her own life did not include him, so it was selfish to wish for more from him than she was willing or able to give herself. She smiled at Tamani and pushed away her gloomy thoughts.
“Is this your sister?” Laurel asked, pointing to the faerie child.
“No,” Tamani said, and Rhoslyn laughed.
“At my age?” she said with a smile. “Earth and sky, no. Tam is my youngest and I was a bit old even for him.”
“This is Rowen,” Tamani said, poking the little girl’s ribs. “Her mother is my sister.”
“Oh. Your niece,” Laurel said.
Tamani shrugged. “We don’t really use terms here for anything other than mother , father , brother , and sister . Beyond that, we all belong to one another, and we help out with everyone’s children.” He tickled the little faerie, and she squealed in delight. “Rowen here may get extra attention from us because she is more closely connected than other seedlings, but we don’t stake claims beyond that. We’re all family.”
“Oh.” It was a concept Laurel both liked and disliked. It would be fun to have a whole society of people who considered themselves part of your family. But she would miss the ties she had to her admittedly sparse extended family.
Laurel blinked in surprise at a small creature that looked like a purple squirrel with pink butterfly wings perched on Rowen’s shoulder. Laurel was sure it hadn’t been there a few moments ago. As she watched, Rowen whispered to the thing, then laughed quietly, as if sharing a friendly joke.
“Tamani?”
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