I Get My Favorite Dessert
Annabeth dropped by early to help make dinner with my mom, my stepdad, and me.
Grover and Juniper showed up about an hour later. Being thoughtful, Grover brought my mom a potted orchid. Being a dryad, Juniper brought a juniper seedling—meaning part of her life-source. I hoped we wouldn’t get confused and end up planting Juniper in a pot by mistake. Otherwise, she’d end up having to live at the Jackson-Blofis apartment. If the orchid had a name, Grover didn’t introduce them.
I hadn’t seen my stepdad Paul all week, so he filled me in on what was happening at his high school—all the funny stories about his colleagues and his students. The only thing I regretted about having Paul in the family was that I’d never gotten to have him as a teacher. I suspected I would’ve enjoyed his class. He cracked us all up talking about his friend Mr. Bigly (yeah, real name), who got halfway through his PowerPoint presentation on the periodic table before realizing he was showing the kids a slideshow of
his family trip to the Grand Canyon.
“And I heard you saw Ch—Mr. Brunner,” Paul added.
“You can call him Chiron,” I said. “Everybody here knows.”
“Oh, right.” Paul grinned sheepishly. It was sometimes hard to keep track of who knew about who in Greek Mythology World. “Well, I’m glad he finished up at Alternative High. He’s supposed to sub for me next Thursday when I have jury duty.”
I tried to imagine Chiron teaching Paul’s class. It was almost as weird as imagining Paul on jury duty. If he got impaneled, Paul would probably have the whole jury performing scenes from Shakespeare within a few days.
Chiron would have Paul’s students sparring with swords, which Paul would probably be fine with.
“Juniper, dear,” my mom said, “is salad all right for you? I didn’t even think to ask what dryads find appropriate.”
Juniper grinned. “That is so thoughtful. I’m fine with salad, Sally, but thanks for asking. Dryads will eat just about any nutrients we can absorb.”
Leave it to my mom to ask. I’d never even considered whether dryads ate. I should’ve been more sensitive, I guess. Sometimes folks at camp asked if I avoided eating seafood because I was the son of Poseidon and could talk to fish or whatever. I always answered that no, I ate fish. Have you ever talked to one? They don’t have a lot to say. Mostly it boils down to Are you food? Am I food? Eating them is the only way to answer the question.
Obviously, I don’t consume the smart species like octopuses, dolphins, sharks, and manta rays. Dude, if you ever need an animal to help with your physics homework, manta rays are geniuses.
Grover and Juniper set the table. Usually that was my job, but it was fun watching them being domestic together. Can nature spirits be called
domestic? Whatever. They were cute, nudging each other and giggling and making moony eyes.
Annabeth got the casserole out of the oven as she chatted with Paul about her latest architecture assignment. Paul seemed to find her schoolwork fascinating, though he didn’t know much about design. My mom just hummed to herself and smiled, happy to be surrounded by positive energy.
Once at the dinner table, we dug in. Grover, Annabeth, and I recounted the adventures of the week, trying to focus on the stuff that was funny in retrospect, not the stuff that almost got us killed. Sometimes it was hard to separate the two, but my mom was in tears laughing when I recounted my wild ride through the lingerie department with Hecuba, a detail I had previously omitted.
“I should’ve had you pick up some things for me,” she said. “Don’t make it weirder,” I grumbled.
“And this recommendation letter,” Paul said. “Did it really just say Hecate recommends you for things?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So we don’t get to help you write your own letter this time,” my mom said. “That’s a shame.”
I shuddered. I did not want team-writing my recommendation letters to become a tradition.
“Does well with animals,” Grover volunteered. “Is widely traveled,” Annabeth added.
“Wears a bra on his ankle,” Juniper offered, then frowned. “Sorry. I have trouble with human jokes. Was that too much?”
Everybody laughed. Even I smiled.
“Okay, ha-ha,” I said. “We can add those to my third letter, if I ever get it.” “Oh, you will,” Annabeth said.
“We’ll be here to help you!” Grover promised. “Even if it means that you two have to leave for California afterward.”
“Hey, now,” said Juniper, squeezing Grover’s wrist. “I told you, don’t worry about that. Because no matter where you go, your roots are where you’re planted. And this right here”—she gestured around the table—“these are Percy’s and Annabeth’s roots.”
That stopped us. Sometimes the greatest wisdom comes from a juniper bush.
“Of course,” Grover said. “And my girlfriend’s roots are literally right here.” He nudged the juniper clipping she had brought.
We all laughed, but Juniper was right. Looking around the table, I knew I was where I belonged, and even if we moved across the country, Annabeth and I would always have a home here. We wouldn’t be leaving anything behind. We’d just be spreading out our branches.
“Well,” I said, “in that case, what’s for dessert?”
“How ’bout this?” Annabeth kissed me, which was better than any dessert— and a whole lot better than candy corn.
