Chapter 26 Gracie #2
“Ugh, Dad. I’m dating Puck. I understand what happened, and I’m sure I’ll tell you the whole story sometime.
But him being gone wasn’t his fault. It doesn’t mean he’s off the hook and everything is fine.
It just means we’re working on our relationship.
It’s just not something I want to talk about over the phone. ”
“I’ll trust your judgement, Gracie. But what about the other guy? You texted saying something about Ezra?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Yeah, well… About that. Dad, I’m… Well, uh, I’m dating five guys right now who have all decided to move into the house.”
“What?” His voice vibrates with good humor and disbelief. “Baby girl, are you serious right now?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. But I’m not nearly high enough for this. “Yeah.”
“Shit. You picked the other four? What do they say about this witch guy?”
“They like him.”
“Who all are you dating? Do I at least get to see a picture of these assholes?”
“Yeah, I’ll text you a picture we took together earlier. You’re taking this awfully well.”
“Eh, I knew you’d end up with your own little harem. It was one of the things that was stressed to me from early on. And while I don’t want to think about the particulars, you’re a ball-busting badass. I trust you’ll keep them in line. And I hope they take care of you. It would take an army.”
“Dad!”
“What?”
I mutter nonsense and take a long pull on the vape.
“So, who are they?” he asks again.
“Ezra.”
“I like that man.”
“Puck.”
“Okay.”
“Puck’s twin brother, Darius.”
“There’s two of them?”
“They’re not alike at all. Imagine Puck always smiling and high.”
“Shit…”
“Then there’s one I don’t want to talk about on the phone, but I kind of think he’d be your favorite. You’ve both got a larger-than-life personality. He’s like the embodiment of chaos.”
“My kind of guy.”
I chuckle and melt into the cushions. That last pull might have been a bad idea. “That’s what I’m scared of.”
“That’s four. And the witch?”
“Luciu. He’s a warlock, but yeah.”
“Luciu?” Dad mutters. “Why is that name familiar?”
“Uh, he does magical security work. Drives a—”
“A pink Cadillac! Skinny guy, glasses, blond jerry curl?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“I know that guy. He’s real nice. I did a few tattoos for him.”
“Seriously?”
“If it’s the same guy, yeah. That’s who you’re marrying tomorrow?”
“Yeah…”
“Shit. I’m going to have to give him a call and bust his balls.”
I don’t know how I didn’t see this. Tattooing isn’t something everyone does. And when Dad was brought into our world, he was seen as a safe person for witches to hire. He’s done a lot of magical tattoos since my powers awakened.
“Uh, Gracie? I should tell you that I hit on his mom once…”
“Seriously?” I chuckle. “Is she hot?”
“Stunning.”
“She owns a brothel.”
“Fuck me sideways. Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d let her tie me up.”
“Dad!”
“What?”
“I don’t want to know that.”
He laughs. “Sorry. Sorry.”
“Bleh. No more. What would your girlfriend say? No! I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know. La. La. La. La.”
Dad just laughs. We talk. It’s easy and nice.
I don’t catch him up on everything. He doesn’t need to know about vampires and how dangerous things are.
I don’t want him to worry. He’s human and frail by comparison.
But I’m glad we get to catch up. We need to make more of an effort to talk and stay connected. After all, he’s still my Dad.
Eventually, he has to go. Which is to be expected.
He’s a gifted artist in high demand. Some of his established clients have taken to flying to see him, and I’m excited it’s working out for him.
He gave up so much to be my dad. He was introduced to a world he shouldn’t know anything about and made a niche for himself. But he did it all for me.
Which is a really good reminder that blood isn’t everything. Sometimes the people that will stand ten toes deep with you do so with no expectation of repayment.
Poppy swoons out of nowhere, falling across my lap. “Your dad is the best.”
I grin at her. “He is.”
“Question.”
“Answer.”
She tips her head back and grins. “How would you feel about putting some purple in your hair?”
I pause and consider it. “I’m listening…”
“The dress is gorgeous. And as you can see, the flowers are coming together. But it’s a bit monochrome, even for you.
I was thinking… Purple is kind of your color.
And there’s a good amount of purple in the dried witchweed flowers.
What if we tied it all together with some purple tips or highlights or something in your hair? ”
She’s begged me to do this for ages, but after a few terrible experiences in my teenage years, I haven’t colored my hair. Maybe it’s the witchweed or maybe it’s just time, but—why not?
“Let’s do it.”
Briella outright gasps. “Seriously?”
“Does that throw things off?” I ask.
“No.” She gestures at the tablet perched on her knees. She’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed. “I’m working on the invites. We’re targeting thirty to forty people. Mostly friends of the shop and some store neighbors. Anyone we like that would add to the energy.”
“You are amazing.” At this point, I don’t care who they invite. I’m thrilled not to have to plan a thing.
“We can’t get a cake, but we can get a cupcake tower,” she says. “Is that okay?”
“I love you.”
Briella blows me a kiss. “Love you, too.”
Poppy sort of rolls off onto the floor and hits her knees. She tosses her pink and green hair back and grins up at me. “I can’t wait to do your hair.”
“Ugh, but all that bleaching and showering…”
She rolls her eyes. “Bitch, we’re witches. Who is bleaching anything? Not me!”
“What?”
She drags me to my feet and pulls me over to Briella’s sewing machine table, that’s currently a war zone of fabric clippings. Poppy pulls out the chair and pushes me down.
“We’re going to use magic, hoe,” she says.
I mean, it’s obvious. And yet I never considered using magic to do my hair.
So there I sit, Poppy running her fingers through my hair, and my head spinning.
“Wait…” Briella lifts her head. From the way she sways a bit, I think it’s safe to say I’m not the only one elevated. “Then that hairstyle in…?”
I don’t even need her to finish the question.
I nod while her eyes get impossibly large and her jaw drops. Poppy, on the other hand, laughs.
I fling my arm out, driving my knuckle into the fleshy part of her thigh. She shrieks and bounces sideways, rubbing her leg. She isn’t the least bit repentant.
“I hate you both,” I mutter.
Poppy flings herself at me, trapping me in the cage of her arms. Her cheek smooshes to mine, and while I hate everything about this, I also love it. “But we love you! In fact, your fuckboys don’t get you tonight. Tonight is girl time.”
I groan, but it’s not heartfelt.
“If it wasn’t too much effort to get up, I’d hug the shit out of you,” Briella says.
I squeeze Poppy with an awkward side hug and allow myself to just be happy. I’m surrounded by people who love me.
“Hausé, I’d hug you, too,” Poppy says.
I swipe at my cheeks. “It’s so not fair you’re stuck here.”
“Right?” Poppy straightens and digs her fingers into my hair. With how high I am, it feels divine. “But a walking house would get attention.”
“Oh!” Briella slaps the bed. “Like the Baba Yaga chicken house?”
“Classic!”
I snicker. “Impractical. Don’t get ideas, Hausé. The motion sickness would kick my ass.”
“There has to be a way to include Hausé,” Poppy mutters. “Besides leaving a phone or whatever streaming.”
“Hm.” I tip my head back as Poppy runs her hands through my hair. “Puck shared his consciousness with Darius. So it stands to reason Hausé should be able to do something similar.”
Briella giggles. “I can just see her inhabiting my dress form and spinning a waltz.”
We all laugh, and the pipes in the wall shriek along with us.
But what if…?