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Constance sighed heavily as she stared at her dad’s contact file blinking on her cellphone screen. She’d been dancing around the issue of whether or not versus how much to tell him for months, which was unlike her. Under normal circumstances, she weighed the pros and cons of the situation as a whole and various solutions and within a relatively short span of time had determined the best possible course of action with alternates at significant junctures. It was the age old question of honesty and kindness. At what point did telling the truth become more harm then good?
That was a question for Nils. Fed up with her indecision, Connie hit the Talk button and waited through the rings. At the end of the day, he deserved to know. She had the utmost respect for her father and was reasonably certain that he would be able to handle it. The chances of their relationship being destroyed were small enough that she considered it an acceptable risk.
Ring ri-click. “Psmith.”
“Hello, Papa.” Oh damn, dead giveaway that something wasn’t right. She hadn’t called him that on a regular basis since she was ten, nowadays it was reserved for when they were having Family Time in private.
“Connie! Well hello, Princess, how are you?” She smiled at how his tone flipped from professional to a pleased paternal coo. He must have been having a long day. But he’d apparently keyed into her need to be Daddy’s Little Girl. He always had some sort of nickname on tap for her, but Princess was a rare one these days.
“I’m doing fine. I was just wondering, would you have time to see me if I flew up today?” This meant that she wasn’t in any sort of official trouble but there was something going on that she considered urgent and sensitive.
“I always have time for my baby girl. Shall we corral your mother and brothers and make a family night out of it?” This was his way of asking in front of company if they needed to have a family meeting to discuss the issue and present a united family front.
“Probably shouldn’t, Nate’s got a test coming up that he needs to study for. Maybe they can join us for a board game later.” Which was her way of saying it might be necessary later but she wanted to talk to him first. “I’ll call you when I get into town, okay?”
“Sure thing, Sugarplum. I’ll see you in a bit, then.”
~~~
Connie warned Aimee that she was going up to Dallas to talk with her father about “the whole god thing” and that she would probably be flying back into town that night or Saturday morning. She would let her know if it took longer.
She made good time on the trip in and was waiting in her father’s study, armed with pastries from his favorite guilty pleasure cafe, when he got home from work. She had debating bringing coffee as well, but decided that it would have seemed like too obvious of a bribe.
“Hey there, Buttercup!” He came in still dressed in his Stern Judge suit with a huge smile, pleased as punch to see her. She stood up with a grin to give him a hug before he set his briefcase on the desk. “Ohhh, you went to Rosie’s! Thank you, Sweetheart!” Handing her a danish while he took a bearclaw, he slung his jacket over the back of his chair and sat down, loosening his tie. Noticing his daughter’s nervousness, he smiled fondly and took a bite. “Now then, darlin’, what’s got you in such a tizzy that you came all the way back home to see your old man?”
Connie couldn’t help but smile. This was why they got on so well, they didn’t beat around the bush if they didn’t have to. They were like two peas in a pod, from the tops of their curly brunette heads all the way down to the toes of their expensive Italian shoes. “Jeez, Dad, straight for the jugular. Alright. I met my real mother.”
Shocked, he coughed on a bite of pastry. Managing to swallow a few painful moments later, her fixed his daughter with a baleful glare. “Constance Victoria Psmith, what the hell are you talking about?!”
Connie met his glare with a calm, if slightly grim and defensive, gaze. “Met her on campus one night in early February. A little shorter then me, blond hair, very classy and polished. I don’t know what name she gave you, but the one she gave me is Frigg. As in the queen of the Norse gods. She spoke fondly of you.”
If one thing could be said against Maximillian Psmith’s character, it was that he did not react well to being flabbergasted. Some people would stare with jaw agape, some would sputter. He got angry. He jumped out of his seat and paced around the room, ranting and raving about how he had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life and how Those People were obviously a bad influence if this was now her idea of a joke. Her father’s loud and furious rants had frightened her when she was younger, when she was mortal. But now... Now it was like a howling wind, ultimately powerless. Connie remained calmly in her seat and picked her purse up off the floor, holding it on her lap while she began to pull things out of it and set them down on her father’s desk. A thick fantasy novel, five narrow notebooks, the Urdswell pen, a coil of rope, a flashlight, a bag of dried fruit and bottle of water, a first aid kit, a change of clothes in the proper sizes for every one of her friends including shoes. By the time she had gotten to the second brick, her father’s rant had dropped off into confused silence. Connie turned in her chair and looked up at him, smiling sadly. She’d never seen him look so lost before. He dropped back down into his seat, struggling to find something to say. “...bricks?”
Connie shrugged. “I wouldn’t have believed either without some proof.” She set the purse down on the desk, gesturing that he was welcome to examine it for himself. “Most of my friends had already been visited by their divine parents before she and Odin came to talk to Simon and me, so it was a lot easier for me to accept. I’m not going to explain everything, there’s a whole lot of metaphysics going on that I don’t understand myself. Apparently there’s a war going on between most of the gods and the majority of the titans, and we were conceived to be soldiers in that war. See, the titans are trying to kill the gods and destroy the world as we know it in the process. We don’t want to fight, but we’ll be damned if we just sit by and let humanity suffer because of dysfunctional family infighting. We’re like the heroes from all those Greek myths. That’s the easiest way to understand what’s going on, if you think of it like a myth. Bizarre things start happening that the heroes have to deal with, multiple heroes get drawn together to deal with problems too big for one person to handle alone. Apparently there are a lot of people with a little supernatural blood in them, but only the ones with the most potential get visited by their parent and the power in that blood gets woken up. When that happens, they become sort of a magnet for weirdness. Ronnie’s brother got mixed up in some strangeness last week, and that’s what made me decide that it was safer if you knew what was going on. It might make you a little more of a target but Juanito didn’t have a clue and he still ended up involved, so I estimate the increase in risk to be negligible. So if you or Mother or the boys notice anything strange, please call me immediately. There’s one group of people in particular that I’d like you to be on your guard against.” Constance leaned across the desk and reached her hand into the purse while her father held it and pulled out a very thick folder, setting it down in front of him. “They call themselves the Nephilim. Apparently their ideology revolves around the idea that any war at all will destroy the world and the only way to stop it is to kill the gods before the titans get the chance. Some of them actually believe it. Most seem to want an excuse to be serial killers. We’re trying to turn one of their number to our side, but most of this intel came from an outside source. We don’t know how far we can trust this source, but it hasn’t let us down yet. The last profile is the one that murdered Chrys.” She held up a hand to forestall his objection to that accusation. “I know, I know, they ruled suicide. She admitted it freely and proudly without coercion. I just want to keep you all safe, Papa. But I don’t know how to tell Mother, so I wanted to tell you first. What she’ll see as the biggest problem is that it’s the nature of the weirdness to become Known. Fate wants people to talk about heroes, so I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to keep things under wraps.”
There was silence for the next few moments while her father glanced over the profiles that Simon’s contact had provided and they’d added to. He looked up with a wry smile, taking note of the nervous earnestness in her face. He knew his daughter better then she realised, could tell that she wasn’t lying to him and it had taken a lot of courage to speak up. “It’s a lot to take in all at once, Pumpkin. I knew at the time that Alice was special, but I never would have imagined all this. I have to admit, I should have seen this coming. You’ve got her eyes. She had a way of looking at you like she was seeing all the way through to your soul, and I’ve seen you give folk that very same look on occasion. I’m glad you decided to tell me, this is something we’re going to need to have a family meeting over. Did she actually say that your mother’s not your mother?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so. She swapped me with Mother’s real daughter in the hospital and raised her in Asgard. Dad, I...” Connie stopped for a moment before continuing. “I really don’t want to know the details about your relationship with either of my mothers. Frigg is a manipulative sort of goddess, she’s in charge of prophecy as well as wives and mothers. Once she decided that she wanted a kid raised in this household, nothing could have stopped her.”
That exoneration drew a smile to her father’s face, lifting a weight that Connie had never realised was there. “Thanks, Sugarplum. Your mother’s going to be hurt badly enough as it is, we don’t have to tell her anything beyond the swapping. I’ll call her if you call John. Nate’s already visiting for the weekend, so we should be able to get your mother here in the morning and talk everything out tomorrow.”
Connie nodded in agreement. She’d figured that the whole family would need to be brought in, but she’d been hoping that everyone would already be in town. “I’ll call Aimee and let her know I’ll be late.” She put on a bright smile. “On a slightly less earthshattering note, I’m going to ask Aimee to marry me.”
It was a little funny to see her dad boggled twice in one conversation. His face split into a grin after a moment of surprise. “Congratulations, Sweetheart!” He stood up and swept around the desk, pulling his baby girl into a big bear hug. “This calls for a drink! Come on, we’ll go down to the den and break out the good stuff. Call Nate downstairs, he can have some too.”
Relieved laughter bubbled up as she rejoiced in her father’s approval. “Thanks, Dad. Let me put my things away and call John first, then I’ll be right down.” Ruffling his daughter’s hair and planting a fond kiss on her forehead, he walked out to call his wife and get his youngest out of his room, laughing his great booming laugh as he went. Connie grinned and swept her gear quickly into her purse, essentials on top, and texted Aimee to let her know that the family meeting would be the next day and she would let her know when she was about to leave. She looked out the window over the lawn just before she left, surreptitiously checking the protection rune that she had placed just before Dad got home. She would place more around the rest of the house and grounds later, but this was a good first step toward keeping her family safe.
That was a question for Nils. Fed up with her indecision, Connie hit the Talk button and waited through the rings. At the end of the day, he deserved to know. She had the utmost respect for her father and was reasonably certain that he would be able to handle it. The chances of their relationship being destroyed were small enough that she considered it an acceptable risk.
Ring ri-click. “Psmith.”
“Hello, Papa.” Oh damn, dead giveaway that something wasn’t right. She hadn’t called him that on a regular basis since she was ten, nowadays it was reserved for when they were having Family Time in private.
“Connie! Well hello, Princess, how are you?” She smiled at how his tone flipped from professional to a pleased paternal coo. He must have been having a long day. But he’d apparently keyed into her need to be Daddy’s Little Girl. He always had some sort of nickname on tap for her, but Princess was a rare one these days.
“I’m doing fine. I was just wondering, would you have time to see me if I flew up today?” This meant that she wasn’t in any sort of official trouble but there was something going on that she considered urgent and sensitive.
“I always have time for my baby girl. Shall we corral your mother and brothers and make a family night out of it?” This was his way of asking in front of company if they needed to have a family meeting to discuss the issue and present a united family front.
“Probably shouldn’t, Nate’s got a test coming up that he needs to study for. Maybe they can join us for a board game later.” Which was her way of saying it might be necessary later but she wanted to talk to him first. “I’ll call you when I get into town, okay?”
“Sure thing, Sugarplum. I’ll see you in a bit, then.”
~~~
Connie warned Aimee that she was going up to Dallas to talk with her father about “the whole god thing” and that she would probably be flying back into town that night or Saturday morning. She would let her know if it took longer.
She made good time on the trip in and was waiting in her father’s study, armed with pastries from his favorite guilty pleasure cafe, when he got home from work. She had debating bringing coffee as well, but decided that it would have seemed like too obvious of a bribe.
“Hey there, Buttercup!” He came in still dressed in his Stern Judge suit with a huge smile, pleased as punch to see her. She stood up with a grin to give him a hug before he set his briefcase on the desk. “Ohhh, you went to Rosie’s! Thank you, Sweetheart!” Handing her a danish while he took a bearclaw, he slung his jacket over the back of his chair and sat down, loosening his tie. Noticing his daughter’s nervousness, he smiled fondly and took a bite. “Now then, darlin’, what’s got you in such a tizzy that you came all the way back home to see your old man?”
Connie couldn’t help but smile. This was why they got on so well, they didn’t beat around the bush if they didn’t have to. They were like two peas in a pod, from the tops of their curly brunette heads all the way down to the toes of their expensive Italian shoes. “Jeez, Dad, straight for the jugular. Alright. I met my real mother.”
Shocked, he coughed on a bite of pastry. Managing to swallow a few painful moments later, her fixed his daughter with a baleful glare. “Constance Victoria Psmith, what the hell are you talking about?!”
Connie met his glare with a calm, if slightly grim and defensive, gaze. “Met her on campus one night in early February. A little shorter then me, blond hair, very classy and polished. I don’t know what name she gave you, but the one she gave me is Frigg. As in the queen of the Norse gods. She spoke fondly of you.”
If one thing could be said against Maximillian Psmith’s character, it was that he did not react well to being flabbergasted. Some people would stare with jaw agape, some would sputter. He got angry. He jumped out of his seat and paced around the room, ranting and raving about how he had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life and how Those People were obviously a bad influence if this was now her idea of a joke. Her father’s loud and furious rants had frightened her when she was younger, when she was mortal. But now... Now it was like a howling wind, ultimately powerless. Connie remained calmly in her seat and picked her purse up off the floor, holding it on her lap while she began to pull things out of it and set them down on her father’s desk. A thick fantasy novel, five narrow notebooks, the Urdswell pen, a coil of rope, a flashlight, a bag of dried fruit and bottle of water, a first aid kit, a change of clothes in the proper sizes for every one of her friends including shoes. By the time she had gotten to the second brick, her father’s rant had dropped off into confused silence. Connie turned in her chair and looked up at him, smiling sadly. She’d never seen him look so lost before. He dropped back down into his seat, struggling to find something to say. “...bricks?”
Connie shrugged. “I wouldn’t have believed either without some proof.” She set the purse down on the desk, gesturing that he was welcome to examine it for himself. “Most of my friends had already been visited by their divine parents before she and Odin came to talk to Simon and me, so it was a lot easier for me to accept. I’m not going to explain everything, there’s a whole lot of metaphysics going on that I don’t understand myself. Apparently there’s a war going on between most of the gods and the majority of the titans, and we were conceived to be soldiers in that war. See, the titans are trying to kill the gods and destroy the world as we know it in the process. We don’t want to fight, but we’ll be damned if we just sit by and let humanity suffer because of dysfunctional family infighting. We’re like the heroes from all those Greek myths. That’s the easiest way to understand what’s going on, if you think of it like a myth. Bizarre things start happening that the heroes have to deal with, multiple heroes get drawn together to deal with problems too big for one person to handle alone. Apparently there are a lot of people with a little supernatural blood in them, but only the ones with the most potential get visited by their parent and the power in that blood gets woken up. When that happens, they become sort of a magnet for weirdness. Ronnie’s brother got mixed up in some strangeness last week, and that’s what made me decide that it was safer if you knew what was going on. It might make you a little more of a target but Juanito didn’t have a clue and he still ended up involved, so I estimate the increase in risk to be negligible. So if you or Mother or the boys notice anything strange, please call me immediately. There’s one group of people in particular that I’d like you to be on your guard against.” Constance leaned across the desk and reached her hand into the purse while her father held it and pulled out a very thick folder, setting it down in front of him. “They call themselves the Nephilim. Apparently their ideology revolves around the idea that any war at all will destroy the world and the only way to stop it is to kill the gods before the titans get the chance. Some of them actually believe it. Most seem to want an excuse to be serial killers. We’re trying to turn one of their number to our side, but most of this intel came from an outside source. We don’t know how far we can trust this source, but it hasn’t let us down yet. The last profile is the one that murdered Chrys.” She held up a hand to forestall his objection to that accusation. “I know, I know, they ruled suicide. She admitted it freely and proudly without coercion. I just want to keep you all safe, Papa. But I don’t know how to tell Mother, so I wanted to tell you first. What she’ll see as the biggest problem is that it’s the nature of the weirdness to become Known. Fate wants people to talk about heroes, so I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to keep things under wraps.”
There was silence for the next few moments while her father glanced over the profiles that Simon’s contact had provided and they’d added to. He looked up with a wry smile, taking note of the nervous earnestness in her face. He knew his daughter better then she realised, could tell that she wasn’t lying to him and it had taken a lot of courage to speak up. “It’s a lot to take in all at once, Pumpkin. I knew at the time that Alice was special, but I never would have imagined all this. I have to admit, I should have seen this coming. You’ve got her eyes. She had a way of looking at you like she was seeing all the way through to your soul, and I’ve seen you give folk that very same look on occasion. I’m glad you decided to tell me, this is something we’re going to need to have a family meeting over. Did she actually say that your mother’s not your mother?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so. She swapped me with Mother’s real daughter in the hospital and raised her in Asgard. Dad, I...” Connie stopped for a moment before continuing. “I really don’t want to know the details about your relationship with either of my mothers. Frigg is a manipulative sort of goddess, she’s in charge of prophecy as well as wives and mothers. Once she decided that she wanted a kid raised in this household, nothing could have stopped her.”
That exoneration drew a smile to her father’s face, lifting a weight that Connie had never realised was there. “Thanks, Sugarplum. Your mother’s going to be hurt badly enough as it is, we don’t have to tell her anything beyond the swapping. I’ll call her if you call John. Nate’s already visiting for the weekend, so we should be able to get your mother here in the morning and talk everything out tomorrow.”
Connie nodded in agreement. She’d figured that the whole family would need to be brought in, but she’d been hoping that everyone would already be in town. “I’ll call Aimee and let her know I’ll be late.” She put on a bright smile. “On a slightly less earthshattering note, I’m going to ask Aimee to marry me.”
It was a little funny to see her dad boggled twice in one conversation. His face split into a grin after a moment of surprise. “Congratulations, Sweetheart!” He stood up and swept around the desk, pulling his baby girl into a big bear hug. “This calls for a drink! Come on, we’ll go down to the den and break out the good stuff. Call Nate downstairs, he can have some too.”
Relieved laughter bubbled up as she rejoiced in her father’s approval. “Thanks, Dad. Let me put my things away and call John first, then I’ll be right down.” Ruffling his daughter’s hair and planting a fond kiss on her forehead, he walked out to call his wife and get his youngest out of his room, laughing his great booming laugh as he went. Connie grinned and swept her gear quickly into her purse, essentials on top, and texted Aimee to let her know that the family meeting would be the next day and she would let her know when she was about to leave. She looked out the window over the lawn just before she left, surreptitiously checking the protection rune that she had placed just before Dad got home. She would place more around the rest of the house and grounds later, but this was a good first step toward keeping her family safe.
