By the time the last of the groceries were put away, Emelri and Jacques were already at each other’s throats.
“You can’t work evenings at the tavern,” Jacques declared, one hand on his hip while he leaned the other on the back of one of the plush sofas in the living room. Adrian was sitting on said sofa, scanning silently through a book on his lap while taking notes with a quill as the quarrel went on. “It’s not safe, especially for an eighteen-year-old girl.”
“I’m nearly nineteen, Jacques,” she spat, standing with her arms folded, “and what do you mean, not safe? Like you took precautions when you were my age.”
He clicked his tongue. “This isn’t about me.”
“Oh, sure. Damn hypocrite.”
Toulou crossed the room then, snatching an energy crystal off a side table they’d apparently left out. “You’re both already fighting?” they asked, a tired expression on their face as they walked away again.
Neither Jacques nor Emelri acknowledged their existence. Adrian, however, shot the young adult an exasperated look from the couch.
“I need money, Jacques,” she said.
“Well, there are better ways. A dayshift there is preferable. I don’t want you coming home in Toulou’s arms all bloodied from some knife attack again.”
“Holy fuck, Jacques. That’s why you’re being like this? That was five years ago. I’m an adult now, and I’m more than capable of defending myself.”
“Doesn’t matter. There are still sick people out there.”
She groaned. “You’re so paranoid. Adrian, please explain to him he’s being overprotective and a control freak.”
Blue eyes flicked up from the book, and the blond sighed before closing it. “What’s this all about?”
She exhaled loudly. “Jacques wants me to work a dayshift at the tavern, but I have the clinic during the day, so I want to work at night. I need this second job.”
“Why?” Jacques demanded before Adrian even had a chance to open his mouth. “Why do you need to work two jobs anyway?”
“So I can be independent. I don’t want to live here with you forever, Jacques. I’m not a baby.”
“You can move out if you want, but you’ll have to find something else to do at night other than working at the tavern.”
She sucked in a breath, pursing her lips together. “Stop telling me what I can and can’t do. You’re not my father!”
There was a shocked silence. Adrian glanced between them with worried eyes.
“Of course, I’m not,” Jacques said calmly, avoiding her gaze, and a pang of guilt pierced Emelri’s heart. “Never said I was, but you live here, and I still worry about you.”
“Jacques... I—”
“Just work at the fucking tavern. You don’t need my permission.” He turned and left the room, sweeping a frustrated hand through his hair.
She stood there, staring after him, wondering for a moment if she should go after him.
That’s when Adrian stood and walked around the sofa to her. “Hey,” he said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I need to feed the donkeys. Want to join me?”
She considered him then exhaled. “Yeah.”
Outside, the sunset bled across the sky like an open wound as the two crossed the pasture where the donkeys were waiting for them. Emelri minded not to get too close to the testy one named Tulipe, knowing from experience that she did not meet the animal’s select qualifications, whatever those were exactly.
Lowering the bag to the ground, she pulled out a knife and slashed it open. As she poured feed into the large trough where the donkeys crowded her to get to it, Adrian finally broke the silence.
“You know that was a cruel thing to say,” he said carefully, pouring his own bag.
She sighed. “I know, but he’s not my father. He always insists he’s not. He’s said that for years now. ‘Never wants kids. We aren’t his kids.’ Why is he so against it, but still acts like our father?”
A small laugh escaped his lips. “It is a bit nonsensical, isn’t it? I believe the label ‘father’ puts unwanted pressure on his shoulders that he doesn’t think he can live up to. Regardless of what he’s called, if anything happened to you three, he’d be sick with worry. We love you three so much. You know that, right?”
Emptying the last of the sack’s contents, she avoided eye contact. “Yeah, I do. I just want some freedom, and he treats me like a fucking baby.”
“Well, that’s definitely something you can discuss with him, though, maybe not while yelling at each other.”
She looked at him, then snorted. “Maybe Toulou is right, and Jacques and I do struggle with pride and a temper.”
“Mm, you think so?”
She caught the humor in his tone and exhaled quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, you were stuck dealing with me when we first came here, but you chose to be with Jacques, so what does that say about you?”
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He laughed. “You have me there. Hey,” the smile melted slightly as he took the pail from her and began filling it from a large barrel that was set near the troughs, “you have every right to want to be treated like an adult. You’re perfectly capable on your own and have been since you were thirteen, probably even before that. We can both talk to him.”
A softness spread over her face. “Yeah. See, you understand. You know, you’re the most understanding person I’ve ever met. Do you even have any flaws?”
“What?” He chuckled in amusement as he turned the spigot on the barrel and emptied the pail into the second trough that was already half full of water. “Of course, I have flaws.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
He put a hand on his hip, looking down at her. “Well, I’m terrible at relaxing. I simply can’t sit and enjoy things. I always need to be doing something or solving something. You can ask Jacques. The only time I’m completely relaxed is when I’ve had alcohol.”
She snorted. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“I’m not good with resolving conflicts either. Not the way Jacques is. He’s been great with Pep and Toulou. He’s not so great when he’s involved in the conflict, but that’s a different story.”
“Clearly.” After the pail was emptied, they stood, watching the donkeys eat. “Thanks, Adrian. You always know what to say. Say what you want about your flaws, I still think you’re the best father anyone could ask for.” He blinked at that. “Jacques still doesn’t know, does he?”
“Know what?”
“That we consider you our father.”
“Oh, ha, he knows. He’s certainly noticed you three kissing and hugging me hello and goodbye and not him.”
“Does he want us to do the same to him?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. You’d have to ask him.”
“No way. That’s such a formal parental greeting. He’d never let it slide.”
“I don’t know. You should try it next time and see what happens.”
She considered him. “Maybe. I suppose I could talk to Pepin and Toulou about it and see what they think as well.”
❀❀❀
The next day, Emelri found herself aimlessly pacing in her room, having to step over various piles of junk as she did. Beams of morning light were cast down on the clutter, reflecting off her colorless hair.
Turning to her bed after hopping over a bundle of clothes, she sighed before plopping down onto the mattress.
“So bored.”
Stretching out her limbs, her eyes wandered to something that glinted from inside her closet. Staring for a moment, she finally got up and took out the shoes made of black glass from a small shelf inside. They didn’t fit her anymore, so they lived there, collecting dust.
Looking at them, she thought of how different her homelife in Yundet was from here with Adrian and Jacques. As much as Jacques drove her crazy, there was a tenderness she felt for him that she’d never once felt for her birth mother.
Inside this house, while she dealt with struggles just the same, her capacity to feel joy was considerably greater. She felt no harsh judgment behind anyone’s words or shame simply for existing. There was no pressure to be someone she wasn’t or disgust when she chose a path different from what was expected. She could feel without a doubt that at Adrian and Jacques’s core, all they wanted was what was best for her. It was a new concept to be sure.
Looking down at her fit but filled out frame, darkness spread through her like a disease. She could still imagine the words that’d made her cautious of food since she was nine years old. ‘One day, you’re going to be fat, just like me. I know how much you eat, in fact, looks like you’re already nearly there. Just you wait. Better to get you bigger clothes now that there’s still time.’
Emelri was in no way overweight. She knew that. She knew that. Pinching her sides, she swallowed, trying to push her mother’s words away.
Here, with her new family, she could be herself and not be rebuked for it. They were all there for her. She closed her eyes, breathing. They were there for her. Opening brown orbs again, she exhaled. She knew if she wanted to, she could at any moment leave her room and talk to Adrian or Toulou or Pepin and feel better...
She blinked, then set the shoes down. Right. She was going to talk to the siblings. She’d told Adrian she would, hadn’t she?
Standing, she left through her door, making sure not to look at her reflection in the mirror on her wall as she passed it, pushing aside the aching memories, though the sinking feeling remained.
Pepin’s room was down the hall from her own. Used to entering unannounced, she turned the knob, finding it unlocked and pushed inside.
“Hey, Pep, I—” She halted, blinking a few times.
The man stood in the middle of the tidy room facing away from her. His wet hair hung down past his bare shoulders; he was shirtless on top save for a strange garment that looked almost like a corset that’d been cut in half, hugging around his top half. His hands were pulling the bottom strings on the back of it, and he turned at the sound of her voice.
“Oh! H-hey, Emi. Didn’t hear you come in.”
She stared. “What are you wearing?”
He looked down and a light pink filled his cheeks. “Um, that would be to hold my breasts in. I was just getting changed.”
She blinked. “Your what? You have breasts?”
“Well, yes. I’m...” Timid greens eyes glanced to the side as his face rouged further.
Realization dawned on her face. “Oh! Shit, sorry!” She turned from him quickly, her own face feeling hot. “I didn’t know.”
“You don’t need to turn around.”
“Oh, okay.” She looked back to see Pepin had finished tightening the strings and was now tucking them away.
She stared at the slim jawline and shy emerald eyes that wouldn’t meet her own. “You... never told me.”
“Was I supposed to?”
“No, of course not. I really should have just known. I must sound like a fucking idiot, but I thought you were still waiting for your voice to drop.”
He blinked at that, then laughed. “Wait, what? You thought that?” He shook his head with a smile. “I am still waiting, but at eighteen I think it’s safe to say it isn’t going to happen.”
She exhaled a giggle of her own, watching him pull his shirt over his head. “Yeah, I’m not exactly the brightest.”
“That’s not true.”
Her expression dropped. “So, you think I’m smart for not knowing?”
“Um...” his voice cracked, and she shoved his arm.
“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to spare my feelings.”
He gave a shy laugh as he tucked his shirt in. “You are really smart, Emi, just… maybe not about this.”
She shook her head humorously, then noticed the self-conscious look on his face underneath the lightheartedness. “Um, sorry I didn’t knock,” she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, “and I didn’t mean to pry about your clothing.”
“No, I should really learn to lock my door.” He took her hand from him, holding it for a lingering moment before shakily letting it go. The light touch made butterflies flood her stomach. “Jacques keeps scolding me about it every time I bathe. He’s accidentally walked in on me a few times now...”
“Pep!” she shouted, hitting him lightly on the arm.
He shrugged good naturedly. “I can be a bit careless. Anyway, what did you need, Emi?”
“Huh? Oh, right.” She collected her thoughts. “I wanted to talk to you about Jacques, but I can wait until you’re fully dressed.”
“I’ll only be a minute.”
“There’s no rush! I’ll just be in my room when you’re ready.”
Pepin gave a polite smile as she walked over to the exit. Giving her own grin from the hallway, she carefully closed the door, then exhaled.
She hesitated outside the entrance, placing a hand over her chest. Her heart was pounding. She felt her face with the back of her hand. Pepin’s red cheeks and the way he’d held her hand just a hair too long... She shook her head.
They were practically siblings. She’d caught him mid-dressing then questioned him about his undergarments. Of course, his face was red. They had a good thing going, and he deserved someone so much better than her anyway.
Heaving another sigh, she crossed the hallway to her bedroom. She couldn’t be getting ahead of herself like this. It wasn’t fair to Pepin or to herself.