The Things We Water

“You don’t need to come with me,” I told Henri under my breath as we made our way to Franklin’s bedroom.

He peered down at me, that frowl-scrowl still plastered on his profile. Murder Henri was gone, but I wasn’t sure how much better Grumpy Bear Henri was in his place. “Yes, I do,” he argued.

“No.”Between us, Duncan stepped on his foot, capturing both of our attentions.

I blinked. “Even Duncan said no.” Why was he saying no though? There weren’t many things he had a strong opinion about, but this….

“You’re wrong this time, pup,” Henri disagreed, his expression lightening just a little as he focused on the donut. A hint of a smile crossed his face as he looked down at him, but all that wiped away the second we made eye contact. “I could tell he’d been anxious the last few weeks, but I thought he was concerned about you.”

“You mean afraid,” I clarified.

He gave me a look that might as well have been an eyeroll. “Wary,” he compromised. “Now, I’m rethinking every conversation I’ve had with him about you and what it might mean. Ilya didn’t say anything else?”

That perked me up. I shook my head. “That’s all. What has he told you? Franklin, I mean.” I didn’t bother trying to keep my question a secret. I was coming for him, and I didn’t care if he was sleeping. If he’d been purposely hiding something from me, I deserved to know what it was, and we both knew it.

“Nothing that would’ve set me off. What I knew about you, your relationship with Matti.” Henri gestured toward the door to our left.

We were here. At Franklin’s.

I clenched my fist.

“I can hear you in there,” Henri called out, not even bothering to try and press his ear to the wood. “Are you going to open the door or are you going to make us knock?”

The doorknob turned and the elder appeared in button-down flannel pajamas… which were an odd choice because most people after a certain age used the buttons that popped together, or didn’t use buttons at all. Just like his shirts….

But the strangest thing was the resigned expression on his face. The hair he usually had neatly combed was all over the place, kind of scruffy, pretty messy. Somehow it made him look younger.

A lot younger.

Nervousness seemed to lurk in the corners of his eyes as he stood there. “I was expecting this, come in.”

I glanced at Henri, who gave me a squinty look.

I still couldn’t believe how much of a hissy fit he’d thrown over Ilya inviting us to Alaska, and I definitely couldn’t believe what he’d said to him about it.

He’d been so… possessive.

But I couldn’t think about that now, I told myself, walking into the room first, with Duncan following next, and Henri taking up the last position.

The room was larger than mine, but instead of a full-sized bed like Agnes had, Franklin’s was much more modest. His frame was a twin, and next to it was a comfortable recliner. There was a television on the opposite wall, framed by huge bookshelves—four of them, stuffed full with all kinds of paperbacks and hardcovers and more.

In front of those books were knickknacks in bronze, some that glittered like they were gold, and a few that looked… ancient with how faded and in poor condition they were.

“I meant to have this conversation with you before Ilya arrived, because he might not talk much, but he always seems to say the wrong thing.” Franklin sighed as he settled into the recliner with almost a plop. “Please sit.”

Henri gestured to the one other chair in the room, a simple wood one in the corner, with a surprisingly delicate design on the back, and he took the edge of the bed. Duncan curled up at my feet, having demolished the rest of his trachea before we’d come inside. The elder set his palms flat on his legs, his eyes watchful as he took in the pup and then me.

He was uncomfortable. There was no denying that.

I had so many questions.

“He told you?” the elder finally asked, catching my eyes full-on.

That was a strange opening question. “All he told me was to ask you about my DNA dad, because he made it seem like you should be the one to answer my questions,” I replied, watching him closely. Franklin had hazel eyes, a proud nose, and skin a particular shade of honey that wasn’t light or brown, but somewhere in between. His ancestry could have been from dozens of different places, I thought again. But the surface of his skin was oddly smooth, and if he colored his hair, I wondered what age he would actually look like.

Franklin nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. At his knees, he wiggled his fingers. He was nervous. “I didn’t mean to avoid this conversation, but….”

“But?” Henri piped in from the bed. He sounded irritated.

The elder shot him a side look. “I convinced myself I could put it off.” He almost harrumphed. He was building this up big-time.

He was definitely hiding something, and it sure felt freaking huge.

“What are you not telling me?” I went right out and asked.

Franklin’s fingers fidgeted some more.

I gestured toward them. “I’ll be specific. What is that bracelet keeping from everyone?” If he thought I was going to take it easy on the questions, he was delusional. This was the most personal question I had ever asked in my life, and I couldn’t find it in me to regret it.

The elder hesitated before picking at his wrist, then folding up his sleeve and revealing two bands of a variety of obsidian beads linked together with a gold chain and clasp. From the color of the gold, it wasn’t 14 carat either. He turned his wrist one way and then another. Those hazel eyes flicked up to meet mine, and he seemed to come to a decision. The fingers of his free hand came over the top, and he undid one clasp after another with surprising dexterity and ease, taking them off, then setting both on the table beside him.

It was like being swallowed by a tidal wave.

His magic… it was strong and subtle at the same time. Not a punch like Duncan’s mom’s or my old neighbor’s had been, there was a smoothness to it that was unlike theirs.

From my feet, Duncan rose up like the dead in a single, fluid motion, ears up high, posture straight. His tail did that candlestick thing it did, though the color of it didn’t change.

On the bed, Henri shot up to stand. “You son of a bitch,” he just about spat.

The elder rolled his eyesbefore picking his bracelets up and putting them back on.

“What is it?” I asked, fully aware that I was missing something. He was some kind of long-lived being, all right, but I figured he’d been a god from some ancient, small pagan religion.

Henri’s teeth were gritted as he glared. “Tell her right now or I will.”

So it was like that, huh?

Franklin glared at Henri before he focused on me again and said in a very careful voice, “First, I want you to understand, that I, at no point, was aware of your existence”—I sat up, and Duncan peeked at me over his shoulder, sending me “love,” and I leaned over to pet him—“until you arrived here. If I had known you were in the world, I would have found you, child,” he warned.

The way he said “child”….

“Cut to the chase,” Henri growled low, still standing.noveldrama

There was a pause. Then, “You and I are family,” Franklin admitted, staring straight into my eyes when he did.

Henri scoffed, but I couldn’t look at him.

Franklin wasn’t nervous, I realized at that moment. He was being cautious, but not because there was any dread going through his body. No, he wasn’t afraid. The elder kept right on meeting my gaze as he said, “Your father is my brother. I’m your uncle, Nina.”

I hadn’t seen that coming, not in any way, in any universe, in any kind of folktale, and I could feel it on my face and in my soul as my eyes widened.

When I had thought he was hiding something, I’d assumed it was his background. I’d imagined that he was some god that had been around for a very long time who wanted to live in peace—still a sketchy, secretive MFer, but not this.

I had never, ever, not for a second, expected him to say he was my fucking uncle.

I was so damn surprised not even my jaw could manage to drop.

No part of me knew what to do with itself.

“You smell similar to him, the sweet note you must get from your mother, but your magic feels very strongly like my brother’s. I struggled to comprehend it at first, how he could have had a child at his age, but….” His shrug was almost delicate, but still wary. “My main focus when I left shortly after your arrival was locating information on the pup. It was sheer coincidence that I could handle both situations at the same place.”

I took Duncan’s ear between my fingers and let the softness of it ground me when it felt like I’d just been emotionally sucker punched. No matter what happened, what this man said, my relationship to my boy would never change. He wouldn’t love me less. I would always have him, and there was a foundation to that knowledge that kept the world from spinning out of control.

“Nina’s biological father lives in Alaska?” It was Henri who asked.

“Her father, yes⁠—”

“My dad who matters lives on a farm in Mexico,” I butted in through stiff lips.

Franklin nodded slowly. “Correct, I understand. I’ll refer to him as my brother, if that works for you, but his blood runs through your veins.”

“Love,” Duncan told me again, and I sank off the chair completely to crouch over him and give him a hug. My boy tucked his head under my chin and nuzzled it.

“Love, love, love.”

“Love you too,” I murmured, taking in his reminder for what it was. Proof of real love. A titanium infusion into my spine that said I could handle this conversation. It was all those things that allowed me to sit back up and manage to ask, pretty dang professionally, “Did he try and claim he didn’t know about me either?”

Franklin’s fingers fidgeted again on his legs. “I didn’t know about you. Before this trip, I hadn’t seen my brother since… the Chicago World Fair,” he answered almost casually. “That was in August 1893, give or take. We kept in touch with letters for the most part, a few calls here and there. We don’t tend to move often, and not now at this stage in our lives. He’s even more of an isolated homebody than I am.”

“He left his house long enough to get someone pregnant thirty years ago, so he’s not that much of a homebody,” I muttered under my breath.

Henri snickered, and I glanced at him. A corner of his mouth twitched, and he winked at me. Hadn’t we just been arguing half an hour ago?

We had, but he was still more on my team than this secret keeper was. Just like I’d told him, he would always have my loyalty no matter what. I could never forget that.

“I agree.” Franklin grimaced. “Initially, when I confronted him….” His fingers started tapping faster, and he was beginning to look even more uncomfortable by the second. He seemed to be having some kind of internal struggle. “I don’t want to hurt you more than you’ve already been, Nina.”

That was surprisingly thoughtful. “I’ve known my entire life that I wasn’t wanted. I don’t think you can hurt my feelings much more than they’ve already been,” I said with a shrug.

Henri grumbled.

Franklin winced. “I see⁠—”

“Choose your words wisely,” Henri murmured from where he continued standing, except now his arms were crossed over his wide chest.

The elder nodded. “My brother attempted to claim that he wasn’t aware of you at the beginning. He insisted that I didn’t know what I was talking about, but I’ve known him my entire life. I would recognize an essence of him anywhere, and I decided that I wouldn’t leave until he admitted the truth. It took longer to wear him down than it did to find out what I was able to about Duncan, but eventually, he confessed.”

“He knew about me,” I deadpanned.

“He knew about you,” Franklin confirmed, his eyes flicking toward Henri briefly, then returning to me. “Would you like to hear what I learned?”

I nodded, a small part of me appreciating the fact he was asking me for permission.

“My brother met your….” He raised his eyebrows.

“DNA donor,” Henri suggested before I could, and I smiled at him weakly before shrugging at Franklin.

“He met your DNA donor when she was visiting the area on a cruise ship. There’s a fishing town a few hours from their settlement that gets tourism, and he happened to be visiting when he came across one of our kind. A very strong, very bright, beautiful woman.”

I felt one of my eyes go squinty at the description, but I let him continue his story.

“My brother has always refused to hide what he is, and she recognized the same thing in him that he saw in her.”

He meant magic, I thought.

“They struck up a conversation, the cruise ship was on an overnight stay there, and at some point, between that afternoon and the next morning, relations were had that resulted in your existence.”

My jaw found its way to persevere that time and it dropped as low as it was able to.

I was the child of a one-night stand between two gods.

I… I….

I laughed.

I laughed, and I bent over to pet Duncan again because I didn’t know what else to do. My boy gave my arm a lick in reply. I didn’t think he knew what to do with me either.

Fortunately, Franklin continued the second my laughter waned. “One month later, my brother received a letter in the mail—which I read, he has his sentimental moments and kept it—from the woman stating that she was expecting. Verbal contact was made, and your DNA donor, who called herself Isha, made her wishes known. She believed she wasn’t in a position to have a child, my brother felt the same, and they agreed that she would find… adequate parents to raise the child.”

“They were more than adequate,” I said, not sure if I was angry, sad, or both, mixed in with some surprise. But I needed to make that point real clear.

“I’m very pleased to hear that,” the elder acknowledged almost gently. “My brother eventually admitted that he reached out to you over the years, though he stipulated that it has been some time since his last visitation—up until his most recent, I suppose.”

“Visit?” Henri asked in a dull voice.

“Those terrible night visits he’s been subjecting us to,” Franklin huffed. “The obsidian blocks him from reaching out to Nina directly, and he has no finesse with dream walking. Before you started hiding yourself, he was able to find you more easily and directly.” He grumbled, “Dreams are not his natural domain.”

My brain ran through his info dump. About the bracelet. About the visits in dreams that weren’t dreams that I’d always known were more than they seemed.

I lined up the events in my head. The last time I had had one of those “dreams,” they had been before I’d started wearing my bracelet. Since then, I rarely slept without it. If that had been blocking him from “finding me” directly, there would’ve been no way he’d been able to dream visit again. Hmm.

“So that is him waking us up in the middle of the night?” I asked.

“It is. I’ve made it clear he’s to stop that immediately.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking about the gnomes’ hints. “Why’s he doing that? And how can he if I wear my bracelet? Because he knows where I’m at now?”

“I may have given him my thoughts on his choices. I may have told him what he and that Isha did is unforgiveable.” Franklin stopped fidgeting. His expression went intent. “You have the right idea, Nina. He knows where our ranch is, and because he can’t find you directly, his telegraphing in sleep is more like… using a sledgehammer with a gift he could never use well in the first place. Think of it as him screaming into the abyss in a way.” A slight sneer tilted his mouth. “Or a grown man throwing a tantrum at being ignored.”

That made surprising sense, but a part of me refused to react to him going out of his way. But the first part of Franklin’s statement raised a question that I couldn’t keep to myself. “Do you know if he has other children?”

“Not still on this earth. His last child was easily a millennia ago.” A stricken look crossed the elder’s face. “It’s difficult.”

Seemed to me like there was more to that, and the elder didn’t let me down.

“After your first child, you have the groundwork for what to expect. You know in advance that they’ll age while you don’t, that they’ll pass on, while you have to continue to live with a part of you missing….” The older man’s throat worked. “It never gets easier. No matter how many times you go through it, losing a child doesn’t become more bearable. They don’t start to mean less even being aware of the inevitable.

“Each loss takes a bite out of you, and eventually, there isn’t much more you can afford to lose,” my biological surprise uncle stated carefully.

Too carefully.

I’d swear his eyes sparkled in the dim lighting.

“A thousand years ago, when my last daughter passed, and my brother’s son did as well, we made a vow to each other, while we were at our lowest, that we were done with children, who would only grow up to break our hearts. And I’m sorry for that, Nina. I don’t think our agreement had anything to do with the decision he and your… DNA donor made, but if there was the slightest chance it did, I beg you to forgive me.”

I couldn’t help but look down at Dunky Donut and imagine what losing him would be like. To spend a lifetime of joy and happiness with him and eventually have it ripped away. Then have to live after that, with his absence.

That was…. No.

No.

My eyes teared up trying to imagine it, and my imagination was poor because I couldn’t even get far enough into that horrible fantasy to do it. I would be a shell. I would be a fraction of the person I was now, knowing I would never see him again. Knowing what I was missing.

It was one thing to know he existed somewhere, even if we weren’t together, and it was a totally different thing to be aware I could never hug him again.

And Franklin was right that my father’s decision might have been impacted by his vow, but it also might not have been. But if it was, then a small part of me got it. It didn’t mean I had to forgive anybody, though.

But I sure wasn’t going to sour my life holding on to resentment toward people I didn’t care much for to begin with.

Just as I opened my mouth to reassure him that his brother was an adult who could make his own decisions, Franklin slid forward in his recliner, elbows on his knees, and said, “Your life is a gift. Simply knowing of your existence has brought me so much joy. I don’t believe in suffering through possibilities, but if I had known that you were out there, I would have found you, and I would have raised you.”

That got me to shut my mouth like nothing else could have, and got my eyes to water in a way that I wasn’t expecting. Below me, Duncan scooted between my feet and leaned against my calves, his “love, love, love”a drumbeat alongside my heart.

“I don’t expect you to be happy with me for keeping this a secret from you, but I want you to understand the statistical chances it took for my brother and your DNA donor to meet over so many, many years. I haven’t known you long, but I can sense the goodness in you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes and heard it with my ears through the mouths of others. You are life and you are death, Nina, and I have never met anyone like you in the millions of days I’ve been on this earth. I consider myself blessed to know that I have a child like you in my family,” he told me like I was made of tissue paper.

In that brief moment, I felt like I was.

He sounded so earnest too.

With the back of my hand, I wiped at my eyes—I hadn’t even noticed them getting watery to begin with—and nodded. What could I say to that? Thank you? He didn’t want to hurt my feelings, that was clear, and I didn’t want to risk hurting his either. This situation wasn’t his fault. But I didn’t feel ready to give him a hug and call him Uncle Franklin or anything.

This was a lot.

I’d like to think it would’ve been a lot for anyone.

What he’d just said had been so nice, and I appreciated it. His words had touched me, but… I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with all that. But suddenly, I was very aware that what I didn’t want was to sit in front of him and weep with the confusion taking hold of my body and feelings.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t known my parents didn’t want me. That they hadn’t gone out of their way to let me go into the world. I’d been at peace with that knowledge for most of my life.

And it was because of that, feeling that absence so strongly after more than thirty years, that made the situation so much more confusing.

There was no reason for me to feel betrayed and confused, but my soul and brain didn’t get the memo.

“I need to….” Duncan placed his head on my knee, and I dipped mine to peck the top of it. My voice came out funny, but I refused to beat myself up over it. “Thank you, Franklin, for telling me all that. I have a lot to think about, but just… I don’t blame you for any of it. All right?”

He nodded as I got up, my donut getting to his paws too. But I hesitated. To ask or not to ask?

We were here though, weren’t we? He was telling me things now, wasn’t he? What better time than now, right?

Maybe there was a list of things I had no interest in being aware of, but this was one I did. I looked him right in the eyes, and I went for it. “Did an ancient civilization have a name for you and your brother?”

His eyes sparkled through the lenses of his glasses, and his voice was very, very still when he said, “They called him Thanatos, and I was known as Hypnos.”

The god of death, and the god of sleep. I should’ve known.

I nodded at him before turning to walk out of the room.

I didn’t make it past the bed when a hand caught mine, a moment before amber irises did the same. His eyes roamed my face as I looked up at Henri. Concern was etched over the strain at his mouth and the creases at the corners of his eyes.

I wasn’t the only one upset.

And his worry did something to me I had no business spending too much time on.

“I’m all right,” I tried to tell him. “I just need a cuddle right now.” I caught myself, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. He was the one who’d taught me that word. He was the person whose face came to mind when I heard it now. But… I wasn’t doing this with him anymore. I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. “A Duncan cuddle, I mean. I’ll be fine. Today was a long day.” Flipping my hand in his, I squeezed his fingers for a split second before slipping them out of his hold. “I’ll see you later, Henri. Thank you for coming with me. You’re a good friend.”

His features darkened at the same time his head jerked enough I could have called it a flinch, and it made me feel bad.

But I didn’t have the emotional capacity right at that moment to make him feel better.

Instead, telling myself it was all friendship, which was what he was sharing with me being there, I leaned into him and pressed my lips to the part of his arm level with my mouth, avoiding his eyes while I did it. Then, with my boy at my side, we went upstairs.

I laid on my bed, took out my phone and searched through my messaging app for the group chat I was looking for. It only took a couple minutes before one of my aunts replied with who I could contact. My parents didn’t leave their house often, but I was grateful they were visiting someone I could reach out to easily at that moment.

It didn’t take long for a loud female voice to answer my app call and talk to me for a moment before she called out, “¡Marcela! ¡Felipe!”

And somehow, I managed to hold onto my tears long enough to hear my mom’s familiar voice on the other end. “Nina?”

“Hi, Ma.”