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Momiji and Freja are flying across the room, racing one another, when I put out a bowl of lettuce and carrots for them to chomp on. Freja is significantly faster and makes her way over to the bowl, reaching it before Momiji even lands on the table.
Heading back into the bedroom, I open my suitcase and take out a black sweater and matching leggings. The sweater is knitted, and there are holes in the sleeve where I’ve shoved my thumb through.
“Vega,” I shout.
“Yes, love…ly,” she shouts back. There was a long pause betweenloveand thelysound at the end, and I can’t help fixate on it. Part of my brain wants to ball it up and toss it into a fire and burn it, never to be uttered again. I can’t be her love, not now. The other part of me wants to hold it close to my heart. I blink away the thought before an anxiety spiral seizes me.
“Do you think my mom will be mad at me if I show up in a sweater with holes in the sleeve?” I ask.
Vega walks into the room, brows furrowed, and shrugs. “I don’t know, and frankly, I do not care—wedo not care.” Vega stops and points to her and I. “Stop caring and wear what you want.”
“It’s just… it’s so comfy.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Wear the sweater.”
“Alright,” I say. “Let’s go see my family.”
* * *
The plant nursery is just as I remember it. There are large black metal gates leading into a wide open space, with lots of potted plants lined up on tables and the ground surrounding them. There is the old section where they keep imported trees, as well as a new section of some sort of pine which is actually growing out of the ground. Magic must be required to grow these trees on Octopus Island.
Entering through the gates, I spot Iris standing next to our parents, who are all in their own unique outfits. Iris is wearing short, orange corduroy overalls on top of a tight, black top, which is so typical for her. If I wore something like that growing up, I’d have been scolded for showing too much leg, but our mom always let Iris wear whatever she wanted. Mom, who always dresses more conservatively, is wearing a long, flowy black top over pants, and our dad is in a t-shirt and jeans. At least dad’s outfit is practical. We all look like we’re attending different events, and it makes me chuckle a bit to myself.
“You good?” Vega asks as we get out of the SUV and head towards my family.
“Yeah, just thinking.”
As we reach my family, my dad pulls me into a hug and kisses my forehead.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl. I should’ve defended you the other night. You know how your mother can be sometimes,” he whispers, and I smile, forcing myself not to let out the tears that threaten to fall.
“So, do we want an imported one, or one of those weird experimental ones growing out of the ground?” Iris asks. “I hear a potion mage created them.”
“Well then, in honor of you, our little potion mage, let’s get one!” My mom says and starts walking. We all follow after her, crossing by tall trees coming out of the ground, and we head towards the back of the nursery. Vega holds my hand, rubbing my pointer finger with her thumb in an attempt to soothe me.
Coming up the pathway, we stop at a little shack. There are axes hanging from the outer wall, and a short cambion leans against their desk reading a book. The cambion, who I’m almost certain is Raemond in disguise, has massive breasts that are falling out of their shirt. Their high-waisted leather pants lead to chunky black heels. It’s ridiculous how sexual they’re posed, with their tail waving back and forth.
“Raemond,” Iris says with a cough.
The cambion shifts into their usual form, wearing a sweatshirt and biker shorts. Raemond has pinky-red skin and white straight hair cut into a bob. They have short black horns that are spiked, growing out of the top of their head. Although some cambion have wings, Raemond does not.
“Is this more… family friendly?” they ask Iris, who laughs.
“Yeah, who the fuck were you dressed up for anyway?” Iris’s smile is wider than I’ve seen in years, and it sends a pang to my heart.
Raemond adjusts their square-shaped glasses. “There’s a guy who buys a lot of his plants here. I don’t know his name, but he’s very tall and hunky. I saw his car drive by and was hoping to catch his attention, but I guess he didn’t stop. Oh well, maybe another time.” Raemond lets out a deep sigh. “Or maybe I’ll just die alone.”
My mouth opens, unsure of what I should say in response to that, but Iris just laughs. Maybe this is an inside joke? Vega’s expression is amused as she witnesses this all unfold.
“Was that an illusion?” my dad asks Raemond, breaking the awkward silence.
“It was!” they say, unbothered by their previous statement.
I start to think that my mother is being oddly quiet, when I realize she’s no longer standing with us. Looking around, I see she’s already investigating the new experimental trees.
Iris, Raemond, and my father head over to Mom, while Vega stands with me by the shack.
“How come you all get your tree here every year?” Vega asks.
