22
“What do you see in the lass?” David asked. “She’s pretty enough, but she’s trouble. And she’s a scientist. That’s almost akin to being a wizard.”
We stood in his kitchen, where I cooked dinner for him and Selene. She hadn’t arrived yet, so we were able to discuss her freely. Correction—he felt free to question me about her.
I sliced tomatoes for atop the rocket salad with a vinaigrette and pondered his question. “I suppose it’s because she’s beautiful, yes, but also there’s a sadness like she hasn’t ever been able to let go and enjoy herself fully. She has the same look in her eye as I remember my mother having after my father died—she’s hanging on for someone else, not for her.”
“You can’t save your mother through this girl,” David said and sipped his Scotch. “You’re only going to
