eighteen : forlorn favor

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( CHAPTER EIGHTEEN : FORLORN FAVOR )


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"THANKSGIVING IS AN AWFUL HOLIDAY. And neither of us is American."

Athena shrugged as she stirred the potatoes. "I've only lived in America since I was two, and it's supposed to be a big celebration, about 'unification' or something. Really, I think it's just about people trying to make themselves feel good, or something like that. I don't know. My parents would always invite their rich friends, but they never actually talked about the holiday itself."

Hearne frowned. "Why celebrate it if you don't believe in it?"

"But my parents celebrated it," Athena sighed, "and it feels wrong to not celebrate something, even if it's not what everyone else is. So, what do we celebrate?"

"What we're thankful for, because we have the pleasure of having things to be thankful for."

Athena smiled. "Exactly. Set the table, please? And remember--"

"'The placement of napkins and silverware does not matter, as long as they're not on the floor.'"

"Yep!"


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HEARNE LIKED THE animals. They weren't quite like the ones she knew as a child, but they were close enough. She still remembered the first time she saw them, when she crawled out of bed in the dead of night to see how many there were, and if anything was hiding amongst them, because at nine-years-old, she couldn't sleep unless she knew the perimeter was safe.

That's when she met Rita. It was stupid, Hearne rationally knew thinking of a cow like a friend was stupid, but she did. Because Rita was old, she didn't do much and barely produced any milk, but there was something Hearne liked about her. She didn't know what, but every time she came home, she'd feed Rita, sit with her, and wait until the cow would push her away to leave.

Typically, once dairy cows were six years old, they were sent off to slaughter. Athena didn't do that with Rita, she didn't complain about the costs it took to feed her and the little amount she got in return, or the more-frequent medical bills, she simply let Hearne enjoy having the only slightly normal thing she ever had.

However, this was the one time she wished Rita didn't exist.

"You haven't even gone to her stall once since you've been back," Athena pointed out, pointing her fork towards Hearne. "I fed you, now you talk, it's the basic granny rules."

Hearne blinked in confusion and Athena bit her lip to hold back a smile. "Right, forgot that you don't understand most references. Well . . . a lot of grandmothers have this rule. A lot love to cook, for some reason, mostly because they had a lot more kids than people usually did, and back then they had to do everything, but--basically, if something was wrong, they just knew, sometimes before you even did. They'd make you some food, sit you down, and you had no choice but to talk."

"My grandmother broke my arm." Hearne didn't notice Athena's slightly horrified look, only shrugging. "I didn't want to visit Rita, it . . . didn't feel like the time."

"What do you mean, 'didn't feel like the time'?"

Hearne sat her fork down onto her napkin, folding her hands in a way that made her look much older, and much more sophisticated. "I've been . . . blushing recently."

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