He look down at their hands, then lifted hers to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers, closing his eyes as he did so. She took the opportunity to kiss his left temple, and then they lost themselves for a while.
"Maybe we’ll even find out what kind of person you and I would make," she said at last. "I’ve been thinking about that ever since you said it. Though I think, first, some time for our…our current children to adjust."
It was astonishing how right it felt, how no shred of doubt remained. She loved him, and they would make a life together, and deal with whatever came up, and be happy. It was that simple.
Since Gidds' morning schedule was full of meetings, she took him back to the house for an early breakfast, and they agreed to tell their respective families and then meet for lunch to talk about technicalities. Then she went back to her favourite seat and watched the lake for a while, and wallowed in giddy delight.
Cass had already headed off to work, but was also due back before lunch, so Laura decided a midday family meal was a good idea, and sent her an invite and then, when Julian woke, sent him a text.
Laura: Come down when you’re properly conscious.
Julian had clearly had some presentiment, descending with barely a fraction of his usual noise and speed, and after one look at her face saying: "Do I have to call him Dad?"
"Well, I expect you could call him Gidds, if you wanted to. Or maybe you could call him sir, like in old movies." Laura studied his face. "I know it’s going to be…different, Julian, but you needn’t worry about being stuck with your own personal drill sergeant, or anything like that."
"Nah, it’s okay. He’s pretty cool. And he’s got to be less of a dick than Dad."
"Don’t talk about your father that way," Laura said, automatically.
Her lanky son gave her a genuinely puzzled look. "Why do you always do that?" he asked. "Dad treated you like crap. It’s a fact. I’m allowed to say it."
"I—" Laura lifted her hands to try to encompass how unfair it would have been to insert her hurt into the kids' relationship with their father, but then gave up. "You are," she conceded. "But let’s not spend any time trekking through old swamps. I’m really happy today."
"Yeah, you are," Julian said, hugging her suddenly. "It’s been kinda fun and weird all at the same time. I’d even put up with a drill sergeant for that." Then he sighed. "I suppose those girls are going to move in."
"Yes, at least on weekends, and probably whole weeks when their training isn’t in intensive phases."
"My growing collection of deadly super-sisters. At least they won’t call me uncle." Julian made several faces, but then grinned. "Cass is going to go spare. She only figured out there was anything going on this last weekend while we were at Areziath, and me and Aunt Sue had a great time yesterday telling her all sorts of stuff. She looked like she’d been hit by a brick."
But Cass had recovered from any shock by the time she brought Tyrian up for lunch, and simply smiled and kissed Laura at the news.
"So everyone’s been belatedly telling me. It’s official now?"
"Well, in the Taren-style living together with intention to wed thing, rather than jumping straight to officially engaged. You—you don’t mind having a few more Arcadian residents do you?"
"Your house, Mum. So long as you’re…do you really like Tsur Selkie?"
Laura had to laugh. "I can guarantee that. Why so disbelieving?"
"I don’t know. I thought, if you ever married anyone, it’d be someone like Aunt Sue. You know, the way you two talk together. I just can’t imagine Tsur Selkie talking like that."
"Lucky I brought Sue along, then."
Cass didn’t seem entirely convinced, but said she’d look forward to throwing an engagement party when they made it officially official. And then Gidds arrived with Allidi and Haelin, who were formal and polite, but clearly pleased, and it was not too long before Julian and Cass drew them into a mild squabble over wedding customs, and surnames. And then they all listened in round-eyed disbelief when Laura told them just where Gidds had taken her the day before. It was so comfortable, and familiar, and astonishing, and unbelievable, and…joy.
Sue ambled in an hour or so later, and gave Laura an assessing look, then smiled and hugged her.
"Crossed the Event Horizon, huh? No escape now."
Laura took a deep breath, then nodded. "None at all."
Epilogue
"What a circus."
Bet Wilson agreed with her husband’s assessment of the scene outside, but her attention was for their eldest daughter, Kiri.
"I can’t believe we’re letting you do this."
"I can’t believe you’re not going with me!" Kiri said, shrugging on her backpack. "Psychics! Spaceships! Alien ruins!"
"But no elves," Steve said. "If only there’d been elves."
They laughed, for Steve did love fantasy far more than science fiction, but the joke didn’t change how hard it had been to watch Laura and Sue follow Cass to another planet. And then a year of fielding rumours and dealing with Kiri’s relentless campaign to be allowed to go to Muina before the slowly shifting gate between worlds ceased to appear. Bet and Steve had too many ties and commitments to walk away from, but it just hadn’t been possible to keep telling Kiri that being fifteen meant she couldn’t make a dream come true.
Determined not to miss the opening of the gate, Kiri picked up a package of treats they’d prepared for Sue, then dragged her parents outside to face a street packed with cars. At least a hundred people, Bet guessed, counting faces behind windscreens, along with those who loitered more openly, leaning against fences. Some of them had been there for days, camping in their cars. There was even a police presence, no doubt thanks to complaints from neighbours.
"Be interesting to see what they do if nothing happens," Steve muttered.
"Don’t say that," Bet said, managing not to glance toward the Caldwell family, waiting white-faced under the pergola Steve had built in the front yard.
"You’d be too busy coping with my epic meltdown to notice anyone else, Dad," Kiri added.
"A bunch of people are gonna rush the gate," said Bet’s second-eldest, Kit, poking his head around his father’s bulky frame. "I heard them talking."
Bet exchanged a glance with her husband, and he nodded and headed over to the specially-invited collection of large friends and relatives – most New Zealander expatriates like Steve. Bet checked her watch, and then went to make awkward conversation with the Caldwells, who had sent two of their children to another planet in the hopes of saving the life of their youngest, and had had to wait more than a year to know how to cry.
Doctor Jamandre had also waited, and now sat on the edge of the long front porch with two colleagues. Considering the woman’s tense, determined face, Bet thought that she, too, might rush the gate.
Tucked into the corner of the porch beside the doctors was the failed husband collection: Sam Dale and Mike Devlin, along with Mike’s remarkably impolite second wife. Bet cast a worried eye over Sam, but he’d managed to clean himself up very thoroughly, though the bloodshot eyes spoiled the impression of established sobriety. Bet doubted Nick would be at all fooled, but at least Sam had made the attempt.
The oldest of the three doctors, a small man with only eyebrows left of his hair, caught her eye and then shifted over to give her room. "You are tired. Sit."
Bet wavered, but the porch had a good view, and she needed to be distracted.
"Thank you, Doctor–?"