Poseidon and Sally: Love Story

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'So he's . . . Percy's father?'

Sally nodded and tried her best not to smile. She felt surprisingly at ease with the entire situation, although it couldn't be considered a normal one – her Greek God lover of years long gone dropping in at her and her boyfriend's home to talk to his demi-god son. Sure, it was bizarre, but in what had become of their life lately, this was normality.

'Yes.'

'And his name is . . . Poseidon?'

'He's quite a mythology enthusiast,' she said.

The urge to laugh was almost overwhelming now. Paul's expression was one of complete confusion; he evidently thought that this was all just one big joke. Sally's lips twitched – she couldn't wait until the time came for him to actually find out the truth . . .

Tyson turned to Paul with a face of pure jubilation.

'Daddy's here for Percy's birthday!' he said brightly, wringing his enormous hands together. 'I think Percy is happy. It is a nice surprise for him to come so far –'

'Yes, well, Percy doesn't see his father very often,' Sally said quickly, determined to veer Paul from the topic. She felt like it should be Percy's decision when Paul should find out about Percy's heritage, and with the way Tyson was going, the secret would be spilled within the next thirty seconds. 'Tyson, why don't you help me –'

'Daddy is very proud of Percy,' he ploughed on, big brown eye batting innocently. Sally wanted to slap a hand to her forehead, but the calmer she stayed the less chance there was of Paul finding out the truth –

'Percy has done very much. Percy was almost dead, but he didn't die, and I think Daddy is very happy that Percy did not die. I like it when Percy isn't dead. He's better when he's not dead.'

Paul tried to say something but nothing came out. Tyson seemed to have realised he was saying something wrong – clapping a hand over his mouth, he turned to Sally.

'I am sorry!'

'Tyson, it's fine,' said Sally gently, putting a hand on his shoulder while glancing fearfully at the door. She wanted to know what he was saying, how Percy was reacting, everything and anything because she had no idea about the state of their relationship in the slightest. She had been too nervous to ask. What if it was worse than what she had in mind? What if it was better?

'He . . . his name is Poseidon?'

Sally nodded and said nothing, instead taking a great deal of interest on the still burning candles.

'And he's . . . he's, ah – meaning to say, he's perfectly sane?'

Paul's face was flushed red as if simply asking the question would set either Sally or Tyson off. Perhaps he thought that even Poseidon would hear him and storm back into the living room to beat him up. Sally was too busy trying not to laugh again to give it much thought.

'And you're . . . sure that he's –'

Tyson was looking at Paul as if he had just suggested that Poseidon was God of Bags, or something.

'Daddy . . .' he said, his voice seemingly close to breaking. 'He is –'

Paul rushed to correct his mistake and Sally had to laugh this time. Resting a hand on Tyson's shoulder once again, she said, 'Tyson, he doesn't understand, OK? Now how about you help me -'

'Understand what exactly?' said Paul, looking less and less confused and more and more irritated. 'Sally, what is going on? Surely Percy's father is – I mean, he isn't – what's going on?'