Edward Thorne, also known as Eddie to his friends, was what you’d call “Conservative.” Not exactly the political sense, although his views often aligned with the political meaning. It was more in the sense of avoiding frivolities. If you had to sum up his personality best in one word I would think “engineer” might be the more accurate word, on second thought.

You know the exact type. They picked their job because it was the rational thing to do. It pays well, it comes with good benefits, and the intellectual challenge of creating a product for the customer was enough to scratch any creative itch. Though, between you and me, it took him a while to find something new to replace it upon his retirement. After all that time as an engineer, doing… Well, this is central Maryland. There are one or two major employers who naturally need not be mentioned.

So, a bastion of practicality and sticking with what’s conventional. And then there’s me. His daughter. Obsessed with the supernatural and spooky from a young age, having a more than passing interest in arts and crafts, and despite him and my mother, also an engineer, best attempts I just couldn’t be dragged down the same path of cold intellectual rationality that my siblings got dragged into.

I can’t exactly explain what my job is either, but on the plus side they should at least have a passing awareness of “need to know” since I didn’t even know exactly what I did growing up ‘till I joined the Marines. The negative side is that they’ll probably assume they “know” when quite frankly my current job is so far removed from their worldview that it’s practically on another plane of existence. Scratch that, for a short period it literally was.

All of this internal bitching about explaining my job to two of the most rationally minded people I know, of course, is because I’m just trying to avoid thinking of how I’m going to tell my parents I’m gay.

“No shit.” Liah stated the obvious. “What’d you say to them when you called them earlier?”

“Call? I just texted saying I’d be coming over for dinner with a guest.” I answered. No need to go borrowing trouble.

“Borrowing trouble? You clearly don’t know the meaning of the phrase. Couldn’t you at least have called? This is kind of a big event, after all.” She was fussing with her hair, checking to see if her roots were visible.

“I’m not really the kind who likes long, drawn-out talks on the phone. Besides, we’ll cover the important bits when we get there, right?” I explained.

“We’re telling them we’re married, right?” She stressed how important this much was, at least. But I still disagreed.

“Can we at least switch it to being engaged? I don’t know how they’ll take everything, but adding ‘Sorry mom, but you missed the wedding’ would be an extra topping for the shit-sandwich that is our ‘how we met’ story. Besides, even I missed the wedding.” Not that I had a say in it, but my lack of issues with our marriage is rather odd.

“That’s because we’re soul-mates, stupid.” Liah let out what was becoming her trademark sighs, while dropping what seemed like a bit of a bombshell.

“Oh… that makes sense.” It’s really the only rational explanation for everything. It’s a little bit cliché, but considering all the magic I’ve been caught up in, the thought of a predestined romance fits in with my rapidly adapting worldview.

“That has to be the least romantic way to describe true love.” She snorted. “And to think you spent all that time bitching about your dad being overly practical.”

“It’s like a conditioned response. I blame the military. As soon as I’m faced with something stressful I tend to focus on the facts more than anything else.”

“Why are you acting more stressed that you did this past weekend though? You literally fought monsters and demons, you- actually, I’m sorry. People have strengths and weaknesses, and I should be well aware of your weaknesses since I am your familiar.” Weird, she’d normally take more advantage of this to tease me.

“Things attacking me, I can deal with. My parents… it’s not like there’s a silver bullet to solve that problem. Maybe dealing with family is one of my weaknesses?” I pondered.

“It does tie into your tendency to not just confront interpersonal problems head-on. If I didn’t have a full-on window into your mind, we’d probably still be stuck at ‘who is this woman and why did she replace my cat.’ I must say though, it’s a lot less fun than your other weaknesses.” She stated matter-of-factly with a serious expression.

“Other weaknesses?” Like my hatred of mathematics?

“Like your ears.” And her grin was back, staining cheeks red.

Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared shitless over this. As she said earlier, dealing with people directly is not my forte, and being honest and upfront with my parents especially so. It was some weird complex I had acquired, probably because in the past they had been so dismissive of my interests outside of what was “rational” or normal in their eyes. What if they take it badly? What if they yell at me? What if they disown me?

A pat on my head followed a hug.

“It’ll be fine. Worst case scenario, I’ll be there.” Liah looked up at me. “And if they’re completely reprehensible in how they act towards you I’ll help you deal with it.” The predatory grin she so often used when teasing me was directed at a different target now, but it still made me feel funny all the same. The hand that was rubbing my head tensed, pulling me down for a quick peck on the lips.

Despite being a couple who had a bond that was outright supernatural, we were still a bit nervous when it came to physically expressing affection. We had finally gotten past kissing, but we were far from being the sort who were constantly clinging to each-other. The level of closeness we had at present was reassuring,

“We’re supposed to get there at 5, right? How soon do we have to leave, I don’t want us to show up late and make a bad impression.” That’s right, I was being so caught up in my own feelings, I was ignoring her own. She’s bound to be nervous about this herself.

“Uh… we should be fine if we’re on the road by 4:50.” I explained.

“Huh?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That’s right. I lived literally ten minutes away from my childhood home. Eight to fifteen minutes depending on how you hit the two traffic lights between there if you want to be excruciatingly accurate. I had a bit of an attachment to this area and when my current property hit the market I had jumped on it; I was making good enough money as a single woman just with my part-time job that it was a no-brainer, and I achieved the millennial fantasy of home-ownership.

“We drive past here every time we go to that bar you like! What the hell, Amy?” Liah complained as I pulled into the cul-de-sac. A typical suburban house was at the end of it, with Halloween decorations slightly less elaborate than on the houses surrounding it. Behind the house a newer development could be seen, abutting farmland. This was practically the penumbra of suburbia, the outward extent of where beltway banditry met rolling farmlands.

This was my childhood home, not remote enough to grant me the freedom of exploring woods on my own, but too remote for me to socialize with other weirdos such as myself without needing to ask my parents for permission. On some level I felt nostalgic for the place, but it was home for frustrating memories as well.

“I thought you knew. There’s like, no actual privacy in my head you know.” I pouted a bit at this.

“I can only see surface-level stuff, and even that’s only because you let me.” Another bombshell. “You honestly didn’t know?”

“You never told me.”

“It doesn’t make too much of a difference now, if I’m to be honest. Even without your constant live commentary I probably could read you like a book. But enough of that for now.” She unbuckled as I pulled the key out of the ignition.

“I can imagine it must have been annoying when you were trying to do homework.” I said.

“It was, but at the same time, it was reassuring, feeling you there. But enough of that. How do I look?” She wiggled around a bit as we walked towards the front door, resembling a cat trying to chase its tail as she inspected her outfit. She had forgone her usual look for a pair of black jeans and a respectable blouse, topped with a blazer, oversized on her, that she had stolen from my cosplay closet.

“Great,” I said, pushing down the more teasing comments my anxious mind was pushing to the forefront.

“I avoided the plaid skirt thing for a reason you know.” I need practice in keeping some stuff back from her.

We stood in front of the door, and all I had to do to face my next big challenge was to walk through it. Before we could knock, however, the front door swung open, with my mom there to greet us.