After party games came cake, and after cake came presents. Kendall lifted Seth's up expertly and shook it. "Books," she declared.
Brandy, older and therefore quietest of the group, glanced at me and explained, "Uncle Seth always gets us books."
This did not seem to faze Kendall any. She tore open the package and crowed delightedly over three books of pirate stories contained within.
"Pirates, huh?" I asked Seth. "Is that politically correct?"
His eyes danced. "She wants to be one."
As the party wound down and guests were retrieved by parents, Kendall beseeched Seth to read stories, and I followed him, the nieces, and other stragglers into the living room while the girls' parents attempted to clean up in the kitchen. Seth read in the same compelling way he had at his signing, and I curled up in an armchair, content to just listen and watch. I was therefore startled when Kayla's small form scrambled up and sat on my lap.
Youngest of the girls, she could shriek with the best but tended to speak very little. She studied me with her globes of eyes, touched my French braid with interest, and then snuggled into me to listen to Seth. I wondered if she understood any of what he was saying. Regardless, she was soft and warm and smelled like little girl. Unconsciously, I ran my fingers through the fine, corn silk strands of hair and soon began weaving it into a braid similar to mine.
When Seth finished a story, McKenna noticed what I was doing. "Me next."
"No, me," ordered Kendall eagerly. "It's my birthday."
I ended up braiding for all four of the younger girls. Brandy shyly demurred. Not wanting four copies of me, I elected other styles for the girls, herringbones and plaits that delighted them. Seth continued to read, occasionally glancing up at me and my handiwork.
By the time we were ready to leave, I felt drained physically and emotionally. Children always made me feel a little wistful; being in close contact like this made me downright sad in a way I couldn't explain.
Seth said goodbye to his brother while I lingered near the door. As I did, I noticed a small bookcase beside me. Studying the titles, I picked out Burberry's New Annotated Bible: Old and New Testaments. Remembering what Roman had said about the King James Version being a bad translation, I opened this one up to Genesis 6.
The wording was nearly identical, a little cleaner and more modern sounding here and there, but mostly unchanged. With one exception. In verse 4, the King James Version had read: "There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men..." This version, however, said: "The Nephilim were on the earth in those days and also afterwards, when the sons of God went to the daughters of men..."
Nephilim? A superscript number appeared by the word, and I followed it to the appropriate footnote.
The word " nephilim" is sometimes translated as "giants " or "fallen ones." Sources vary in accounts of these angelic offspring, citing them sometimes simply as neighbors to the Canaanites and other times as Titan-like creatures reminiscent of Greek heroes (Harrington, 2001).
Frustrated, I looked up the Harrington reference in the book's bibliography, finding it linked to Biblical Arcanaand Myth by Robert Harrington. I memorized the title and author, slipping the Bible back into its place just as Seth turned to go.
We drove in silence, the sky graying early as Seattle's winter loomed nearer. I might normally have interpreted the quiet in the car as awkward or weird, but I found it comfortable as my mind pondered the nephilim reference. I needed to get a hold of the Harrington book, I decided.
"They didn't have ice cream," Seth suddenly noted, interrupting my thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Terry and Andrea. They had cake with no ice cream. You want to get some ice cream?"
"Not enough sugar for you already?"
"They just go together, that's all."
"It's only about fifty out," I warned as he pulled up next to an ice cream parlor. Ice cream in inclement weather seemed odd to me. "And it's windy."
"Are you kidding? In Chicago, a place like this wouldn't even be open this time of year. This is balmy."
We went inside. Seth ordered a double cone of mint chocolate chip. I ordered a more adventurous double of blueberry cheesecake and mocha almond swirl. Sitting at a table by the windows, we ate our sugary confections in more silence.
Finally, he said, "You're quiet today."
I turned on him in wonder, pausing in my mental dissection of nephilim. "That's a switch."
"What is?"
"Usually I think you're too quiet. I have to talk and talk to keep things going."
"I've noticed. Er, I didn't mean that like it came out. That sounded bad. You talking is a good thing. You always know what to say. Exactly the right thing at exactly the right time."
"Not last night. I said horrible things last night. To Doug and Roman both. They'll never forgive me," I lamented.
"Sure they will. Doug's a good guy. I don't really know Roman, but..."
"But what?"
Seth suddenly looked embarrassed. "I imagine you're easy to forgive."
We looked at each other for a moment, and warmth flushed my cheeks. Not blood boiling, get naked and jump someone warm, but just cozily warm. Like being wrapped in a blanket.
"That looks terrible, you know."
"What does?"
He pointed at my cone. "That combination."
"Hey, don't knock it until you try it. They actually go pretty well together."
He looked doubtful.
I slid my chair over by him and offered him a bite. "Make sure you get both flavors."
He leaned in for the bite and managed both the blueberry cheesecake and mocha almond swirl. Unfortunately, a piece of the blueberry cheesecake scoop fell off onto his chin in the process. I instinctively reached out to stop it, sliding it back to his mouth. He just as automatically nabbed the wayward piece with his tongue, licking it off my fingers.
A blast of eroticism coursed through me, and looking into his eyes, I knew he'd shared it too. "Here," I said hastily, reaching for a napkin, ignoring the desire to return my fingers to his mouth.
Seth wiped his chin with it, but for once, he didn't let his self-consciousness get the better of him. He stayed where he was, leaning close to me.
"You smell amazing. Like... gardenias."
"Tuberose," I corrected automatically, dazed by how close he was to me.
"Tuberose," he repeated. "And incense, I think. I've never smelled anything like it." He leaned a hair closer.
"It's Michael by Michael Kors. You can get it at any high-end department store." I nearly groaned as the words left my flustered lips. What an idiotic thing to say. My nervousness made me flippant. "Maybe Cady could start wearing it."
Seth was all seriousness. "No. This is you. Only you. It would never smell exactly the same on anyone else."
I shivered. I wore this perfume because it was reminiscent of what other immortals sensed in my unique signature, my aura. This is you. With just a few casual words, I felt as though Seth had uncovered some secret part of me, looked into my soul.
We sat there then, chemistry burning between us like crazy, neither of us acting. I knew he would not try to kiss me as Roman had. Seth was content simply to look at me, to make love to me with his eyes.
Suddenly the wind caught the door to the tiny restaurant, forcing it open as a huge gust swept in. Wisps of hair blew into my face, and I slammed my hands down on the napkins that flew up from our table. Other items in the parlor had less success as more napkins and scraps of paper drifted around, and a cup of plastic spoons fell off the counter, spilling its contents on the floor. The clerk behind the counter ran to the door, fighting against the wind to make the latch catch. When he'd finally done so, he glared at the door resentfully.