22. Valefar
Valefar
LATE OCTOBER
Ihave faced seventeen centuries of infernal existence.
I have stood before Lucifer in the height of his wrath.
I have navigated the political architecture of the Pit and survived.
I have fought shadow demons in a kitchen with a cast-iron pan.
I have wrestled a stone hellhound to the floor of a Catholic crypt and held its jaws apart through sheer force of will.
None of this prepared me for a thirty pound human hurling herself directly at my face from a height of approximately four feet.
I catch her because I am fast and she is adorably predictable, seizing both sides of my head with her small hands and announcing, with great authority: “Again!”
The leaf pile is destroyed. Three minutes ago, it was a respectable mound—one I constructed myself, thanks to Vesper’s efforts of raking the leaves from the Maple, which has gone the color of banked coals in this final week of October.
Now, the mound has distributed itself across an enthusiastic fifteen-foot radius.
Bethie finds this perfect. “Again,” she repeats, waving her hand around.
I glance at the devastated yard, then at Vesper, who is leaning against the back porch railing with her coffee mug, her warm expression conveying such an unguarded air, it is possibly the most serene I have beheld her.
I swing Bethie up, high and wide, and bring her down into my chest, and I let myself drop backward into the scattered leaves so they go flying in every direction.
She shrieks with laughter, such uncomplicated joy, and it does something inside of my chest, which I can only conclude falls into one of the millions of categories belonging to the word “love.”
While Bethie kisses my cheeks, Vesper drops into the leaves beside us, landing on her back, arms spread, leaves going sideways in every direction. One catches in her hair, but she does not care, which I find quite becoming.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hello,” I say back.
Bethie launches herself sideways off my chest and lands on Vesper, who catches her by pure reflex and laughs breathlessly. They wrestle briefly in the leaves, Bethie giggling, Vesper entirely surrendering to the indignity, while I allow this love to move recklessly through me.
This is a family. I do not remember at what point I became part of one. I only know that I am, and the alternative is not something I wish to consider.
“Go and slide,” Vesper tells Bethie, untangling herself and pointing toward the small playset in the corner, something Bethie treats as her own personal territory. She doesn’t hesitate to scramble up and run for it.
Vesper sits up, brushing a leaf from her knee. I remove the one in her hair, but drape it along her cheek, a thrill rushing through me when she shivers. A soft smile forms. A blush in her cheeks. But…a reluctant sigh follows. “Rick’s supervised visit is this weekend.”
My blood runs cold. I am quiet for a moment.
“I see,” I say.
I know the arrangement. Once a month, ninety minutes, a court-appointed supervisor present. He missed the last one. And the one in July.
Vesper stares at her hands. “He’s also petitioned the court for expanded visitation. More than once a month. His attorney filed it a week ago. He says he got a new job, much better pay.” A pause. “The court probably won’t approve it. Given the history.”
I watch Bethie reach the top of the plastic staircase, pause to survey her domain with considerable self-satisfaction, and then slide down with her arms in the air.
“He petitioned,” I say.
“Yes.”
I think about a man who repeatedly betrayed her trust and is now requesting expanded access to her child, and thus to her life. Our life.
“I see,” I say again. A thousand thoughts course through me. But I do not have the right to say them aloud.
Vesper reads me anyway. She has gotten very good at that. “Vale.”
“I am perfectly composed.”
She looks at my tail, which has gone very still, the opposite of composed. I relax it and return my attention to Bethie, who has climbed back up the stairs for another pass.
“I want you to come this time.”
I lift my brows, both surprised, relieved, and yet…cautious. “You wish me to be present?”
“I wish you to be—” She exhales. “I don’t know.
I want him to see that we’re fine. That I’m fine.
That Bethie is fine.” She pulls a leaf from the ground and turns it over between her fingers.
“And I want the supervisor to see that Bethie’s happy.
That she’s safe and settled with us. And how happy Bethie is with you.
I also want Rick to leave and never come back, but the court has a different opinion, so. ”
And perhaps, this could be the beginning of another different opinion.
I think: Saturday. I begin counting the days with a precision I find extremely useful.
* * *
The supervised visit takes place at the park three blocks over.
Rick arrives eleven minutes late, wearing a black leather jacket that smells of department-store cologne. He is taller than Vesper but shorter than I expected. Handsome in the way that mortals of his age and stature are but could be more
I remain beside Vesper near the edge of the playground, exactly where she asked me to be. Close enough that Bethie can find me. Far enough that I am not interfering.
The court-appointed supervisor is a composed woman who carries a clipboard and bears the professionalism of someone who has seen everything and been impressed by none of it.
She sits on the bench nearby the picnic table where I am stationed.
Her gaze moves between Rick, Bethie, Vesper, and occasionally me.
Rick crouches in front of Bethie, enthusiastic but performative. He gives her a stuffed pink teddy bear. Bethie accepts it with the cautious politeness children reserve for strangers who smell wrong and try too hard.
Then she spots a rock, which is far more compelling. She picks it up and immediately toddles toward me, holding it above her head. “Pwecious! Wock!”
I crouch to inspect her treasure with appropriate seriousness. “An exceptional rock, little beastie.”
“Pway!” She grabs two of my fingers and pulls.
I glance at Vesper. Vesper, in turn, looks toward the supervisor. The woman watches Bethie for another moment before giving a small nod.
Permission acquired. I allow myself to be dragged to the sandbox.
It happens repeatedly over the next ninety minutes.
Bethie returns to Rick for a brief interaction, then brings me a plastic shovel.
A yellow bucket. Another rock of apparently tremendous significance.
Each time, “Pway, Pwecious,” until I understand I have been formally conscripted into playground service.
Rick notices. By the third summons, his smile has tightened. “Bethie,” he calls. “Come play with Daddy.”
She looks toward him, then down at the small plastic shovel she has just pressed into my hand. “Pwecious pway.”
Something unpleasant passes across Rick’s face. The supervisor writes something on her clipboard. I find the matter extremely satisfying.
I do not compete for Bethie’s attention. I do not need to. Whenever Rick engages her, I withdraw and let him. But children appear to possess little regard for adult territorial disputes, and Bethie wanders back to me whenever she wishes.
Rick is here for ninety minutes.
I note, with clinical precision, that he spends nearly a third of them on his phone.
* * *
Bethie is asleep before we even leave the park. By the time we pull into the driveway, her head is tipped against the side of the car seat, mouth slightly open.
Rick’s car pulls up behind us just as I open the rear door. “I wanted to say goodbye,” he says as he gets out.
Vesper glances into the back seat. “She’s out.”
I unfasten Bethie and lift her carefully against my chest. She barely stirs, settling into me with a sleepy little sigh while Vesper gathers her bag and the pink bear from the park. Rick watches us all the way to the door.
Once inside, I lower my voice. “I may put Bethie to bed and turn on her sleepy music?”
Vesper smiles softly. “Of course, Big Guy. Never need to ask.”
I start toward the hallway. “Wait.” Rick’s voice stops me. “What’s going on? Why is he here?”
I glance back. “I live here.”
His entire expression changes. “You live here?”
“Rick,” Vesper warns quietly, nodding toward the sleeping child in my arms.
I continue down the hall and settle Bethie into her toddler bed and place Rick’s pink bear beside her. It seems the appropriate thing to do. Before I can straighten, her hand drifts out from beneath the blanket and closes around the end of my tail.
I freeze. She never wakes. She only sighs softly and holds on. My chest aches with something almost unbearable. “Sleep well, little beastie,” I whisper, slipping my tail from her palm.
Then Rick’s voice rises sharply from the other room.
“Don’t,” Vesper says calmly as I walk in. “You don’t get to come into my home and interrogate me about my life.”
His eyes flick to mine, but then he does the thing that gives him away completely: he smiles at her. Warm. Practiced. Manipulative. “Come on,” he says. “You know it doesn’t have to be like this. We had something good, Ves.”
“We did. You ruined it.”
Rick’s mouth tightens. “Come on, Ves. We both made mistakes. I’m not taking all the blame for what happened between us.”
Something hot unfurls beneath my skin.
Vesper crosses her arms, looking more irritated than wounded. “Sure, Rick. Your dick ending up inside multiple women was certainly a shared marital decision.”
The heat intensifies. Cheating. Multiple women. The thought of this mortal possessing a bond to Vesper and repaying it by crawling into other beds turns something inside me violently sour. Somehow, I remain where I am.
Rick scoffs. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It never is.”
The veins in his neck throb. “Bethie deserves a real family. You know she does.”
Vesper goes very still. “She has a real family, Rick.” Her voice is quiet but absolute. “A damn good one. She is safe, she is loved, and she is happy. And for the record, so am I.”