Chapter 8
Dionysus
“No, no, stop!” Dionysus silenced the choir again. “Altos, you have to harmonize!”
He addressed the group, but it was really just one person. He planned to speak to the woman after practice was over, but Medusa had other plans.
“Just say who it is!” she said, glaring at the woman beside her. “Janet!”
It was Janet, but Dionysus was trying to be courteous, even though that was more than the middle-aged woman deserved. She’d argued with him from the start, claiming she was a soprano, which he ignored, and now, at every practice, she tried to prove it.
Janet’s brows rose, mouth agape. “He isn’t talking about me!”
“Yes, he is!” Medusa hissed before turning her stony gaze toward him. “That’s why you tell people when they are the problem, Dionysus.”
He took a breath and scrubbed his face. If he could die right now, he would, just to keep from dealing with this.
“He isn’t saying I’m the problem because I’m not!” said Janet, the words slipping between clenched teeth.
“Oh no, Janet, you are definitely the problem,” Dionysus said.
Janet made a high-pitched sound in her throat before storming off stage. Music stands crashed to the ground as she shoved her way down the riser steps, white sheets of paper flew everywhere, covering the stage like snow.
No one spoke, even after Janet slammed the door.
Dionysus glared at Medusa—and so did everyone else.
“What?” she asked, defensive. “I said what we were all thinking.”
“I think that’s enough practice for tonight,” said Dionysus. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow for our final practice before the tree lighting.”
The theater was filled with the low murmur of voices and rustling paper as the choir packed up. Medusa jumped down from the stage and approached, the fire in her pale-yellow eyes smothered. Now she just looked confused.
“I don’t understand what I did wrong. You stopped us five times, and each time it was because Janet was too loud.”
He sighed. He made it a point to be patient with Medusa, knowing her life had been more than unfair. She’d spent most of it in forced isolation, hunted for her power which would only manifest in death. She was direct, painfully so. Sometimes it was charming, but mostly, people found her to be rude.
“I know, Medusa,” he said. “But there are ways to address these issues, and they don’t have to include critiquing someone in front of everyone.”
“It wasn’t a critique,” she argued. “It was…the truth!”
“It’s how you said it, Medusa. You’re going to have to apologize to Janet.”
“She should apologize for interrupting practice five times!”
His headache grew worse, and he rubbed the spot between his eyes.
“Uncle!” He heard Acamus’s voice right before the toddler barreled into his leg, hugging him tight.
He grinned and picked him up. “Hey, little dove.”
He kissed the boy’s cheek and then Ariadne as she approached.
“Medusa, it’s good to see you,” said Ari, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
The gorgon blushed. “Thank you.”
“Are you coming to the park with us?”
Dionysus felt a mix of disappointment and guilt at Ariadne’s question.
They had planned an evening walk through Concordia Park which was decorated for the holidays.
The only reason he’d wanted it to just be him, Ariadne, and Acamus was because he thought it might be the perfect place to propose.
He realized he was being an asshole. Medusa could join and he could still stick with his plan.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Medusa said, hesitating, eyes darting to Dionysus.
“You should come,” Dionysus said. “You’ll love it.”
Despite his hesitation, he and Naia had worked to give Medusa experiences she never had, many of those boiled down to just being included.
“Aren’t you mad at me?” she asked.
Ariadne looked from Medusa to him, confused.
“No, Medusa, I’m not mad,” he said.
Frustrated, maybe, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. Unlike her, he had a filter. Mostly.
“Are you ready to see the lights?” Dionysus asked Acamus.
He nodded his head vigorously, curls bouncing.
“So, we’re ready?” Ariadne asked, she looked at Medusa who was still watching Dionysus. The God of Wine raised his brows. “Medusa?”
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
They left the theater. The streets were also decorated for the holidays, making the walk just as magical as the park which was only a few blocks away.
Acamus let Dionysus carry him for a short distance before he got bored and insisted on walking.
He took Medusa’s hand and trotted alongside her.
He smiled, watching her point to various decorations with just as much awe as Acamus.
“Why would you be mad at Medusa?” Ariadne asked.
“She always thinks I’m mad,” he said.
Ariadne made a noise and Dionysus looked at her. “What was that sound you made?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I just…I mean, you have seemed more frustrated recently.”
Dionysus frowned. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t felt any different, maybe a little more anxious considering his plans.
Suddenly, he felt very insecure.
“Am I…I’m not mean…am I?” he asked, the affliction of his madness never far from his mind.
Ariadne’s eyes widened, realizing his fear. “No, no, of course not.”
She slipped her arm around his, hugging it close.
“You’re always wonderful,” she said. “Even when I’m not…especially when I am not. And you transform when Acamus is around. You are an amazing uncle.”
His chest swelled with her praise, and he felt overwhelmed by how much he loved her, completely certain about marrying her.
That feeling only grew when they made it to the park, laden with drifts of crystal snow. Since Demeter’s attack on the city, the gods had limited snowfall to the parks and ice to the rinks. It was enough to keep the holiday season magical without triggering everyone’s PTSD.
They followed a lighted path to the center of the park which was decorated to look like one of those small, ceramic Christmas villages. There were several food and holiday shops, each one trimmed with garland and lights, all arranged around a large tree packed with ornaments and dusted with snow.
“What should we do first?” Ariadne asked, rising on to her toes as if that would help her see better.
There was certainly a lot. The park had an observation wheel, a carousel, a train and light trail, and a variety of games.
“Do you want to try skating?” he asked Medusa who looked particularly hypnotized by the sport.
Her yellow eyes met his, widening. “Whatever you want.”
“Skating sounds fun,” said Ariadne. “Have you tried it before?”
Medusa shook her head.
“Then we have to do it,” she said, smiling.
They made their way toward the rink which was near a few pines that had been decorated for the holiday and got their skates.
“Lace them up tight,” Dionysus told Medusa as he finished putting his on. “Then walk around a little. It will help you get a feel for the skates.”
The gorgon glanced at him. “When did you learn to skate?”
“A few years ago,” he said. “I had no choice.”
“You had a choice,” said Ariadne. “And you chose to learn.”
“If by chose you mean I was forced, then yes, exactly.”
Ariadne looked at Medusa as she was helping Acamus into his skates.
“When he says forced, he means he doesn’t like when I can do something he can’t.”
“That is not true. There are plenty of things you do that I can’t.”
Like pole dancing, which he was content to watch.
Ariadne straightened and then sat Acamus on the ground.
“All right, we’re ready,” she said.
Ariadne held Acamus’s hand as they made their way onto the rink while Dionysus waited for Medusa. She held the wall and wobbled on the ice.
“You know it’s okay to fall,” he said.
“That’s easy for you to say,” she replied, watching her feet as she spoke.
He chuckled.
“March,” he said.
“March?”
“Like you did off the rink.”
She did as he instructed. “Now push forward. Good,” he said when she mimicked his instruction.
“Let go,” he said once she’d mastered balance.
“Let go?” she repeated, terror widening her eyes.
“It’s all right,” he assured. “I won’t let you fall.”
She released the wall, marching and gliding.
“You’ve got this,” he said.
That’s when she slipped.
He caught her arm and steadied her, chuckling. Medusa glared.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she said.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he said.
“Then why are you laughing?” she countered.
“Because,” he said, having not really thought about it, “I’m having fun. Aren’t you having fun?”
She didn’t answer, but they continued gliding along the ice, and soon he caught her smiling, and it made his chest feel light. She was so focused, she didn’t seem to realize he wasn’t holding onto her anymore.
“Look at you go,” he said. “You’re skating all on your own.”
Her smile widened and she gave a breathless laugh. A second later, she fell.
“Are you okay?” Dionysus stopped to help her up.
“Yeah,” she said. “Thank you.”
They continued around the rink, passing Ariadne and Acamus. Dionysus turned, skating backwards to watch them a moment longer.
“You’re such a showoff,” said Medusa.
“You’re just jealous,” he said, but as he moved to face forward, he tripped and fell.
Medusa’s laugh was a roar as she continued forward, stopping to hold the wall, doubled over with laughter.
“Uncle!” he heard Acamus call right before he fell on him, stealing his breath.
“Oof!”
Ariadne laughed, appearing over him like an angel.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine,” he grunted as Acamus continued to bounce on his stomach, oblivious to Dionysus’s discomfort.
“All right, let’s let uncle get up,” she said, lifting Acamus to his feet. “Maybe we should get some hot chocolate to warm you up.”
“Chocolate!” he said as Dionysus got to his feet.
“Hot chocolate sounds great,” he agreed.
They made their way off the ice and changed their shoes, stopping at a small stall to order.
“I don’t have any wine to spike it with,” the vendor said, chuckling at his own joke as he pushed a carrier toward Dionysus.