Granger Burrows leaned forward and took a third piece of tiramisu. She’d never actually been offered a piece, much less a second or third one, but nobody stopped her. When she was eating cake, she wasn’t talking. Unfortunately for them all, the former pop star never took too long to eat.
The arrival of Lee’s mother had brought an apocalyptic end to any good cheer in Vell’s dorm, and her arrival on campus had nearly brought a more literal apocalypse. When stepping through the portal, she had noticed the loud sound the device made, and attempted to sample the audio for a potential new song. In doing so, she had somehow created a magical sonic feedback loop that had ended the world on the first loop. Harley had managed to divert her attention, barely, by promising to take Granger to her daughter, and to cake. The cake seemed to have motivated her more.
“Mm, that is so good,” Granger said. “You did such a super good job teaching your son to bake, Mrs. H.”
“I can’t take credit for the Tiramisu,” Mrs. Harlan said. “His friend Renard taught him that recipe.”
“Oh yeah, Renard,” Granger said. “She was the funky one with red eyes, right?”
“No, Mother, you’re thinking of Joan,” Lee said.
“Oh, right. Was she the strong one then?”
“No, he was my roommate,” Vell said, emphasizing the word “he”. The emphasis made his mother realize something, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Why are you assuming only women know how to bake?”
“Because it comes so naturally to us,” Granger said, in her unbearably nasally voice. “Since the Goddess crafted us, women have always nurtured their souls in the hearth.”
“That’s an interesting way to say ‘women belong in the kitchen’,” Mrs. Harlan mumbled. This wasn’t the first sexist remark of the evening, and by all accounts it would not be the last. Skye had left the room, slice of tiramisu half-eaten, after an earlier comment about the divinity of the uterus.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, my mom was just contemplating your ideas,” Vell said.
“Oh, awesome,” Granger said. She was none the wiser to the obvious deception. “It’s so great to get some time to sit and vibe with another mom, I barely get to do that anymore. None of Noel’s friends ever bring around their wives these days.”
“They’re divorced, mother.”
“Oh right.”
Granger and Noel had come closer to divorce much more often than she realized, but Granger was still young enough that her husband didn’t feel the need to trade in for a newer model, and dumb enough not to notice any of the affairs he had behind her back. Her scatterbrained nature came to the forefront again, and she suddenly changed the subject.
“Anyway, tell me all about your mom-journey, what kind of toys did you get Vell when he was a baby?”
“Oh, just the usual things you get a young boy,” Mrs. Harlan said. In spite of her earlier attempt at decrying gender norms, she had to admit Vell had been a very boyish boy. “Toy robots, cars, a minefield worth of Lego’s.”
She still had a scar on her heel from a particularly devastating barefoot Lego incident. Vell had gotten better at cleaning up after himself after that. Until his teenage years, at least.
“That sounds so loud.”
“I took the batteries out of all his noisemaking toys.”
“I knew it,” Vell snapped.
“I didn’t mean noisy,” Granger said. “Like, visually loud. Surrounding your kids with so many conflicting colors is bad for their auras.”
Mrs. Harlan briefly considered not pulling that thread, but morbid curiosity overpowered her.
“Colors...are bad for auras?”
“Yes! Vital energy is so heavily tied to color, it’s crazy,” Granger said. “You and Vell are so lucky, you have meshing black auras. I just can’t vibe with XL-X8’s green aura.”
Harley restrained a scoff at the patently ludicrous idea. Lee’s aura was purple.
“Enlighten me,” Mrs. Harlan said, already knowing she’d regret it. “What is so bad about mismatching auras?”
“Oh my god, physical contact between people with conflicting auras is so toxic, you might as well be hugging uranium,” Granger said. “I can’t do XL-X8’s hair, I couldn’t change diapers, I can’t hug her-”
“You’ve never hugged your own daughter?”
Mrs. Harlan’s outrage had already been boiling over, but now she looked about ready to jump across the table and throttle Granger herself. Vell put a hand up to stop his mom, no matter how much he believed Granger could use a good throttling.
“Hey, mom, hate to interrupt, can we have a quick parent-child pow wow real quick?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Harlan said, through gritted teeth. “I pay attention to my child’s needs.”
Granger did not react to the jab, though no one was entirely sure if she was ignoring it or entirely unaware of it. She was eyeballing a fourth slice of tiramisu as Vell led his mom back to his bedroom and shut the door.
“You really should dust in here,” Mrs. Harlan said, as she ran a finger along a shelf containing some of Vell’s many academic accolades.
“Later, mom,” Vell said. “Look, I know you’re mad at Lee’s mom-”
“I am furious, Vell,” Mrs. Harlan said. “That woman shouldn’t be allowed within a mile of children, much less allowed to raise one.”
“You’re not wrong, but you need to bottle that feeling up a little better,” Vell said. “Lee’s got this long-term plan going on, she wants to inherit her dad’s company and do good with it someday. To do that, she has to keep her parents happy, and yelling at them does not make them happy.”
“Some people don’t deserve to be happy.”
“Wow,” Vell said. He’d always known his mom had some fight in her, but not quite this much. “You might be right about that, but this isn’t our call to make. It’s Lee’s life, and her decision.”
Mrs. Harlan groaned very loudly, but relented.
“Alright, fine,” she said. “For Lee.”
“Thanks. When we all work together, we make this stuff a little better for Lee,” Vell said. Like poison diluted in vast amounts of water, Granger’s stupidity was more tolerable when spread across multiple people. Mrs. Harlan nodded in understanding.
“One more thing, though.”
“Shoot.”
“Will you ask Skye if she wants to come visit us this summer?”
“Mom.”
“She seemed very nice, but that horrible woman chased her off before we really got to know each other.”
“Mom, priorities!”
“Having a strong yet respectful presence in my son’s social life is my priority, Vell.”
“Ugh, fine, I’ll ask,” Vell said. “But don’t expect her to say yes, she’s got this big research mission thing in the Galapagos all summer.”
“I at least want you to ask,” Mrs. Harlan said. “That’s all. Now how do we deal with that b- witch in the living room?”
“I think I have an idea about that, actually.”
----------------------------------------
The first stage of Vell’s plan apparently included a tour around campus. All of the interesting sights to see did distract Granger for a while, at least. Unfortunately she had the memory of a goldfish and the attention span of a toddler.
“Isn’t there something cooler?” Granger whined. “This is all just school stuff.”
“That’s because we are in a school, Granger,” Mrs. Harlan scolded. “Come to think of it, why did you even come here?”
“I want to put on a show! Excy told me about the end of year concert, and I wanted to do something special for her graduation.”
“Mother, it’s the start of the second semester,” Lee corrected.
“I know.”
“Alrighty then,” Harley said. She was genuinely surprised by Granger understanding the concept of time. “Were you planning on just sticking around for the next few months?”
“Yes,” Granger said confidently. “I can bunk up with Excy!”
Everyone else in the group suddenly felt like they had a gun pressed to their heads. They all had a new objective: make Granger hate being on campus, at all costs. The idea of living with her for the remainder of the year was intolerable to any sane person, and especially Lee.
“Okay, this way, let’s go,” Vell said. He’d been putting off their destination for a while, in hopes of stretching out the distraction, but this called for acceleration. “Right through, here, and-”
Vell paused for dramatic effect as he pushed the doors open. Once inside, he gestured grandly to long rows of dusty workbenches, chisels, and blocks of stone.
“This is where I do my work,” Vell said. “The rune carving labs!”
A cloud of granite dust was displaced as Granger shuffled into the lab. She looked around at the large rocks and waited for something to happen. Nothing did.
“Aren’t there supposed to be, like, people here?”
“Sort of.”
Unlike a lot of more specialized disciplines, such as Harley’s robotics team, rune carving didn’t require much more than a chisel and a steady hand, so the specialized equipment in the labs often went unused. It was not, however, unobserved. When Granger started to mess with a nearby lathe (she enjoyed the whirring noise it made as it spun), the keeper of the laboratory made herself known.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Since taking up a cane during the summer, Professor Nguyen had gained a useful new instrument for keeping people in line. She had never actually hit anyone, but she had mastered the art of rapping the cane against any nearby surface so suddenly and loudly that people recoiled as if she’d whacked them right in the face. Even Granger was cowed into submission immediately.
“These facilities are for student use only,” Professor Nguyen scolded.
“Oh, and this is Professor Nguyen, one of my teachers,” Vell said. He’d been counting on her to show up. Nguyen’s complete and utter intolerance for shenanigans of any kind made her the perfect counter to Granger’s airheaded narcissism.
“Oh, you’re Professor Nguyen?” Mrs. Harlan said. “My Vell speaks very highly of you.”
The professor did not react in any way shape or form to the praise. Mrs. Harlan looked around for a few seconds before continuing.
“I’m his mother,” she clarified. “Maybe we could discuss-”
“Mrs. Harlan, at the risk of being rude to a guest, one of the reasons I became a college professor was to spare myself the indignities of parent-teacher conferences,” Professor Nguyen said. “Your son is a grown man and his academic career is his concern alone.”
“Ah.”
Mrs. Harlan stepped back, a victim of collateral sternness. The fact that Nguyen’s attention was briefly turned elsewhere gave Granger more breathing room to be stupid.
“Why do you have so many rocks in your lab?”
She came very close to poking one of the granite boulders, but the slightest twitch of Nguyen’s cane caused Granger to snap her hands right back to her side.
“The materials in this laboratory are solely the concern of my faculty and my students,” Nguyen said.
“Everything? What about this magic battery thing?”
Granger reached out to poke another device, a small glowing cell that contained the mana used to charge runes in the lab. Professor Nguyen’s head tilted forward, and Vell took an unconscious step back. He pulled his mother back along with him, and leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“Don’t look directly at her.”
“At wh -oh.”
Mrs. Harlan glanced at Professor Nguyen for only a moment, and in that moment she somehow regretted all of her life choices. The sheer concentrated scolding leveled by Professor Nguyen’s gaze overpowered all of her independent thinking processes and made her question every choice she’d ever made. And she wasn’t even the actual target.
After exactly ten seconds of the sternest gaze known to man, Professor Nguyen averted her eyes and resumed her usual low-level sternness. Granger continued to stand in place, completely frozen, with a shell-shocked expression on her face.
“If you and your guests are done, Mr. Harlan, I would like to return to my office,” Professor Nguyen said.
“Yeah, we’re good, sorry about the interruption,” Vell said. He led the way towards the exit. Lee actually had to take her stunned mother by the hand and lead her out the door.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah, it should wear off in like twenty or thirty minutes,” Vell said. The full weight of the Nguyen stare usually had people questioning their life choices for at least an hour, but Granger’s lack of self-awareness would probably have her back on her feet sooner.
“Any chance we can just repeat that for the rest of the day?”
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Vell said. “We try again, there’s a risk Professor Nguyen will turn that stare on us.”
The very idea sent a chill down Harley’s spine. They’d have to come up with something else.
----------------------------------------
Harley came up with the next brilliant idea to distract Granger, by exploiting another weakness: vanity. The Einstein-Odinson campus had a lot of students developing photography and video technology, and they never turned down a willing model, especially a fairly famous one. Granger, in turn, never turned down a chance to have people pay attention to her. It even gave her long-suffering escorts a chance to sit around and talk.
“I’m sorry again about all this,” Lee said. “I’m sure you had other plans for your visit.”
“I’ve gotten to tour the school and meet Vell’s friends,” Mrs. Harlan said. “I’ve done everything I wanted to do. Even if there have been...drawbacks.”
“Ma’am, please keep your clothes on,” one of the photography students pleaded. “This is school equipment, we can’t use it for that kind of thing.”
“Boo! Not even a little?”
“None whatsoever,” the student reiterated. “Fully clothed at all times.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“Isn’t your daughter right over there?”
“Oh, nothing she hasn’t seen before.”
Lee had her back turned to Granger, so she allowed her eye to twitch. Mrs. Harlan looked to be in throttling mode again.
“Speaking of XL, come here and take a picture with mommy,” Granger demanded. Lee stood to dutifully comply, but Granger took one look at her and shook her head. “Actually, fix your hair first. Does anyone here do makeup? We need to get Excy looking hot and ready for my followers.”
While Granger hunted for full makeup palette, Lee withdrew a comb and a hairband from her purse and started trying to straighten her already perfectly straight hair. Vell checked on his mother and could practically see steam coming out of her hijab.
“Maybe we should go for a walk, mom.”
“Oh no, I’m fine,” Mrs. Harlan said. “Harley, do you have three dollars I can borrow?”
“Yes, but only because I can tell you’re up to something,” Harley said. She took the money out of her pocket and handed it over to Mrs. Harlan. “Whatever it is, I am one-hundred percent on board.”
With a knowing wink and a smile, Mrs. Harlan took the cash and made a beeline out the door. She returned moments later with a soda fresh from the nearest vending machine. Vell’s mother rehearsed a few lines in her head as she headed towards Granger.
“Hey, uh, babe,” Mrs. Harlan said. The words in her head felt even stupider when said out loud. “We should do a photoshoot, like, together, mom to mom.”
“Aren’t you a little heavy to be modeling?”
It took every ounce of Mrs. Harlan’s willpower to not crack Granger over the head with the bottle of soda right then and there. Instead, she settled for unscrewing the top and letting a few minutes of vigorous out-of-sight bottle shaking do the rest. The inevitable result of carbonation took over, and the soda exploded all over both of them. Mrs. Harlan made sure to keep herself in the blast radius too, to allay suspicions of sabotage. The burst was violent but brief, and left Granger a soda-soaked mess. Mrs. Harlan tried to hide her satisfaction.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Harlan lied.
“Ugh, what is wrong with you? I have to get a whole new outfit,” Granger squealed. Shortly after saying that out loud, what little was left of the synapses in her brain sparked to life. “Wait...I have to get a whole new outfit.”
She pulled a soaked phone from a dripping-wet pocket and called her husband.
“Baby, I need a new teleportation ticket, and have my stylist ready,” Granger demanded. “I need a new look and a fresh cut, now!”
After a few more minutes of argumentative bickering with her husband on the finer points of aesthetics, Granger stormed off, still yelling about needing a new haircut. She didn’t even say goodbye to anyone, not even her daughter.
“That was more effective than I was expecting,” Mrs, Harlan said. She’d just been wanting to ruin the photoshoot for Lee’s sake.
“I give it a seven out of ten,” Harley said. “Effective, but lacked panache.”
Mrs. Harlan gave Harley an odd look. She shrugged.
“We usually do things way more convoluted around here,” Harley said. “I’m trying to get you up to speed.”
“I think I would like to stay at my own speed, thank you,” Mrs. Harlan said. “This campus is...exhausting.”
“If we run back to my dorm we can probably bunker down and have a fairly normal time before Granger gets back,” Vell said. “If she remembers to come back.”
“Would she really-” Mrs. Harlan began, before stopping herself. “Yes. Yes she would. I’m sorry, Lee.”
“No worries at all,” Lee said. “I look forward to her terrible memory, frankly. She once forgot me at a beach for four hours. One of the best days of my childhood.”
A series of dueling emotions, all of them negative, vied for control of Mrs. Harlan’s face. She settled for a concerned stare in the direction of her son. He nodded right back.
“Let’s, uh...get you a change of clothes,” Vell said. “You got to move on, eventually, and you can’t greet the family with a sticky hug.”
“I think your grandparents deserve it,” Mrs. Harlan said. “But I am getting tired of being soaked in cola.”
“My floor is also tired of being soaked in cola,” one of the photography students said.
“Oh right, I got it,” Vell said. The least he could do was clean up after his mother. “I’ll catch up, you guys head out.”
----------------------------------------
“There we are,” Mrs. Harlan said, as she stepped out in new, dry clothes. She posed proudly and displayed her new outfit to a waiting audience of one. Lee looked up from her phone and nodded approvingly. Mrs. Harlan looked around the room expectantly. “Where did Harley go?”
“Your son got roped into doing a deep-clean of the photography lab and Harley went to go smack some sense into every party involved,” Lee explained. There was a lot of sense-smacking to be done. The photographers, for taking advantage of Vell, and Vell himself, for being taken advantage of.
“That does sound like Vell,” Mrs. Harlan said. “Helpful, for better or worse.”
“Usually better,” Lee said. “I’ll say it in no uncertain terms: you have raised an exceptional young man, and you should be very proud of Vell.”
“I am very proud,” Mrs. Harlan said. “But I can’t take credit. You’re living proof children can turn out better than their parents raised them.”
Lee blushed and then, as she often did, shrugged off the praise.
“I learned a lot from them, actually,” Lee said. “Excellent examples of what not to do.”
“Hmm. Maybe,” Mrs. Harlan said. She had a knowing tilt to her head that said she saw right through Lee’s deflection. “But I’ll say this in no uncertain terms too: you are an exceptional young woman, and you should be very proud of yourself.”
Lee tried to say a simple thank you, but it got caught on the lump forming in her throat. She didn’t quite understand why she was getting choked up all of a sudden.
“It’s fine,” Lee mumbled. “My childhood left much to be desired—well, everything to be desired—but I can at least say it made me strong.”
Already caught off guard by the kindness, Lee was entirely stupefied when Mrs. Harlan stepped forward and wrapped her up in a hug. It took Lee a moment to catch up to the fact that she was being embraced, and return the gesture. She sank deeper into the hug as Mrs. Harlan held her even closer.
“Little girls shouldn’t have to be strong.”
Through her entire life, Lee had prided herself on being able to hide when she was feeling sad. It baffled her, then, that she suddenly could not stop herself from crying.
----------------------------------------
“Got your suitcases, got your snacks, got your tacky souvenir,” Vell said. Mrs. Harlan held up a large snowglobe model of the island and gave it a shake. The light of the active portal behind them glinted off the atom-shaped snowflakes in the globe. “Okay, got everything important.”
“Not everything,” Mrs. Harlan said.
“Okay, what are we missing?”
Mrs. Harlan threw her arms open wide, and stood waiting. Vell rolled his eyes, but relented.
“Alright,” he sighed, as he stepped forward into a smotheringly maternal embrace. His mother held him for a solid forty-five seconds before finally letting Vell go.
“Take care of yourself, Vell,” Mrs. Harlan said. “And I mean that. I didn’t see a single vegetable in your dorm.”
“I have salad and stuff in the fridge, mom,” Vell said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You need more than salad,” Mrs. Harlan scolded. “This school is dangerous enough without you getting malnourished.”
Vell resisted the urge to make a joke about that. She didn’t know the half of it.
“Yes, yes, I’ll eat my veggies, don’t worry about it,” Vell said. He waved his mother towards the portal, in hopes the embarrassment would finally end. Mrs. Harlan took one last look around the island, and her eyes lingered for a second on Lee. Vell’s friends were standing back to give him room to say goodbye, but Lee did wave from a distance. Mrs. Harlan pursed her lips.
“And...look after your friends, too,” Mrs. Harlan said. “Especially Lee. Mostly her, actually. Harley seems like she has her life together.”
“You’d be shocked,” Vell said. “But yeah. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
Mrs. Harlan nodded approvingly and stepped back.
“Goodbye, Vell.”
“Bye, mom. See you in summer.”
The mother and son waved goodbye, and then she stepped through the portal and out of sight. Vell spent a moment staring at the blank portal. Moments ago he’d been chasing his mother away, and he already missed her. He contemplated the irony of that while Harley and Lee wandered up to his side, and Lee bumped her elbow against his.
“So,” Vell said. “I take it you and my mom had a moment.”
Lee didn’t bother trying to hide it. Her eyes were still red.
“I believe I have experienced genuine maternal affection for the first time in my life, yes.”
No matter how much time he spent with Lee, she still managed to surprise Vell with how sad she could sound sometimes.
“Mom’s got plenty of energy to go around,” Vell said. “I don’t mind sharing.”
“Oh, are you two sharing a mom?” Harley teased. “Is Lee your sister now?”
“Harley, don’t be an idiot.”
Lee had been turning red in the face before Vell’s harsh words quickly dampened her spirits. The spirits reversed course once again when Vell put an arm around her shoulder and pulled Lee close.
“Lee’s been my sister for a long time.”
The tears Lee could not restrain reared their ugly heads again, though Lee fought hard to keep them down.
“Vell, you asshole,” she mumbled. “I just got done crying.”
“Well it’s getting worse before it gets better, because I’m making this a group hug,” Harley said. “Scooch.”
In spite of her warning, Harley did not wait for anyone to scooch, and forced herself into the hug. Neither Vell nor Lee objected. Harley was quick to ruin the moment.
“I want to be a sister too, you know,” Harley said. “Be fair.”
“Harley, I love you to death, but I’ve also had sex with you,” Vell said. “I can’t define our relationship as anything even vaguely resembling siblings.”
“What about step-siblings? Haven’t you watched any porn lately?” Harley asked. “It’s ninety percent ‘ooh, stepbrother, help me, oh wow what’s that-’”
“We’re done now,” Lee said, as she broke away from the hug and started walking away at a brisk pace.
“Yeah, and you don’t want to cry anymore,” Harley said. “You’re welcome.”
Harley’s deliberate vulgarity to stave off intense emotions was a crude method of emotional support, yet shockingly, and consistently, an effective one.