Laurell Hamilton - Affliction

A tall man came up behind Micah’s mom. He was over six feet by a few inches, completely bald, with what amounted to five o’clock shadow in a thin pale half-circle on his scalp to show that he had started shaving his head after he went bald, rather than as a fashion statement. His eyebrows were thick, nearly black, and arched over dark-rimmed glasses. His eyes were a bright, clear blue. His dark suit, pale blue shirt, and dark tie fit his slender frame well and helped bring out the blue of his eyes and the stark paleness of his skin. The glasses and the baldness distracted me from the rest of his face, so it took a moment to realize he was handsome.

He put his hands on Micah’s mom’s shoulders in a gesture that, though innocent, was totally a couple gesture. I felt, more than saw, Micah tense. ‘So glad you could be here, Mike,’ the tall man said, and held out his hand.

Micah took the hand. ‘I’m glad I could be here, too.’ He turned back to me and said, ‘Anita, Nathaniel, this is Tyson Morgan, my mom’s … husband.’

I had my own stepmom so I knew the awkward moment when you wanted to acknowledge them but not claim them as your parent.

Micah’s stepdad’s hand was big with long, thin fingers to match the rest of his lanky frame. He smiled. ‘Dr Tyson Morgan. I teach at the college with Bea.’

‘Anita Blake, U.S. Marshal.’

His mouth quirked, like a small, lopsided smile, and then he shook his head, more at himself, I think. ‘I guess I’m prouder than I should be of being Dr Morgan, sorry, but please call me Ty.’

‘No need to be sorry, it’s a big accomplishment. Doctor of what, since you teach at the college?’

‘American literature,’ he said.

Micah was searching the other people in the waiting room. ‘Where’s Beth?’

‘She’s at home with the other kids,’ Ty said.

‘Twain has to be what, fourteen now?’ Micah said.

They both nodded. ‘And Hawthorne is twelve,’ Bea said.

I fought to keep my thoughts off my face. Twain and Hawthorne; I realized that the kids were named after Mark Twain and Nathaniel Hawthorne, both American authors, but names like that were usually reserved for cats that lived in the literature building, not for children. Twain was tolerable, but Hawthorne , for a boy? Elementary school must have been brutal.

Bea added, ‘We have two more now; did you know that from our Facebook page?’

Micah shook his head. ‘I go online mostly for business. Two more? Boys or girls?’

‘One of each,’ she said, smiling.

‘How old?’ he asked.

‘Frost is six and Fen is four.’

Micah looked past them to Jerry. He shrugged. ‘There’s a lot of catching up to do.’ He held up his left hand and we saw the wedding band for the first time.

‘Who to, and how long?’ Micah asked.

‘Someone new; she’s a nurse here at the hospital, her name’s Janet. Less than two years. Before you ask, I did marry Kelsey after high school. It lasted about two years and didn’t work from the start. Janet and I are doing good.’

‘I don’t even know what you do for a living,’ Micah said.

‘Work at a local engineering firm. I work with Janet’s brother. That’s how we met. How long have you … all been together?’

‘Almost three years,’ Micah said, and he smiled and took my hand again. He hesitated only a moment and took Nathaniel’s hand in his other hand. I had a moment to see a defiant look on his face, as if daring them to criticize. Our patient, diplomatic Micah was more aggressive around his family, more like me. It explained a lot of his patience with me early on.

Jerry’s face didn’t quite know what expression to have, but his mother beamed at us as if we’d told her she was getting a grandchild or something. Ty’s entire body language relaxed, some tension going out of him that I didn’t understand. He was smiling. Acceptance was great; this level of happy made me wonder what I’d missed. I was always suspicious if something was too good to be true; it wasn’t an old saying for nothing. I’d come into the world with a healthy dose of cynicism, and being with the police for six years hadn’t done anything to persuade me otherwise.

Micah squeezed our hands and changed the subject, sort of. ‘Is Beth with anyone? I still see her as a kid, but she’s twenty-two now, right?’

They all nodded. ‘She just graduated with a double major in theology and philosophy,’ Jerry said.

‘Theology and philosophy?’ Micah said. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that for her.’

‘It took her a while to find herself,’ Bea said, ‘but she’s already been accepted into her master’s program for next semester.’

I heard Nicky’s deep voice murmur something behind us. A woman’s voice, much louder. ‘Who are you and what gives you the right to question us?’

I turned to find two women trying to get past our bodyguards. Micah said, ‘It’s okay, Nicky, Dev, they’re my aunts.’ He went toward them as they walked between our blond guards. One woman had red curls that fell past her shoulders and was wearing work jeans, T-shirt, jacket, and boots that were not a fashion statement. The other woman had hair cut so short there was no curl left, a conservative skirt and jacket over a white blouse with a rounded collar, and sensible pumps. They were dressed so differently that it took a few seconds to realize that other than the superficial differences they were mirror images of each other, or damn close. They both looked a little like Micah, like his dad, and a lot like Juliet, who was hurrying to catch up with them both. There was another woman, or maybe girl, trailing behind Juliet. She was wearing an ankle-length skirt and a button-up blouse untucked over it, hair pulled back in a tight braid that couldn’t quite hide the tight curls she’d have if she let her hair go. Where the lack of makeup on Juliet had looked fresh and like she didn’t need it, on the girl it made her face look unfinished, or maybe it was the huge black-rimmed glasses that looked like they’d been issued by the military. The kind of glasses that were nicknamed contraceptive glasses, because no one could get laid while wearing them. I thought she belonged to the button-up skirt woman, maybe. Juliet was dressed so much like the woman with longer hair that I made a guess that she was Juliet’s mom.

Micah introduced us to Aunt Jody and Aunt Bobbie; Jody was the long-haired rancher-looking woman, and Bobbie was the one who looked like a prim second grade school teacher at a parochial school. Jody did run a farm, and Juliet, her husband, and their two kids lived in a second house on the property and helped run it, but Jody wasn’t her mom, Bobbie was. They were Rush’s twin sisters. Bobbie was not a schoolteacher or a would-be nun; she was a lawyer.

‘I’m sorry Monty couldn’t be here tonight, Mike,’ she said as she gave him one quick hug and stepped back. The blue eyes that had been warm and showed so much emotion in Juliet’s face were cool and unreadable in Aunt Bobbie’s. She looked at me like she was studying me for an exam. ‘Monty is my second husband; he’s a judge now.’

‘Congratulations, I remember Monty. He, Dad, and Uncle Steve were friends,’ Micah said.

Bobbie smiled with the first true warmth I’d seen. ‘He’s a good judge.’ That one small display said she loved and cared for her husband. It was nice to know Bobbie had found love twice.

‘Rex won’t be here, I divorced him years ago. He’s living in California in a condo where he doesn’t have to take care of anything but himself,’ Jody said.

Micah gave her another quick hug. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Jody.’

She hugged him and then grinned. ‘It’s okay, Mike. I’ve never been happier.’