Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four)

by Breeana Puttroff

“I was there for a couple of minutes.”

  Her mom nodded, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t know why I’ve been acting like this, I just . . .”

  “I know.” She reached for her mom’s hand.

  “This isn’t going to be easy for me, Quinn. But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to listen, and I promise I’ll try.”

  William shifted uncomfortably beside her. “Do you want me to give you two some time alone?”

  There was a long pause, and then Megan shook her head. “No, William. You’re going to marry my daughter, so we need to get to know each other, and apparently we don’t have much time to waste.”

  “Speaking of time,” Quinn said, “how much of it do we have? Are you going to want to leave when the gate opens again?”

  “That’s only a few days from now, isn’t it?”

  “It must be.” Quinn looked at William; she’d lost track of the exact dates.

  “Three days.”

  Megan nodded. “Stephen has actually been telling me that he’s not sure we’ll be able to leave that quickly. There’s still fire in the area, and they don’t know where that guy who kidnapped us is.”

  “Jonathan.”

  “Yes . . . I still don’t understand what’s going on with all of this. He’s Samuel and Nathaniel’s brother, right?”

  “Right. He’s the youngest one. He was born after their father died.”

  Megan rested her hand against her forehead. “I didn’t even know he had siblings other than Nathaniel. I thought both of their parents died when they were young, and that’s why they were living with their relatives.”

  “Their father did die, but their mother is still alive. She is still the queen of Philotheum.”

  “Bless you.”

  Quinn stared at her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that none of this makes any sense to me.”

  “I know.” She sank down onto the stool beside her mother. “I’m still trying to make sense of a lot of it myself.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that Samuel was really the heir to the throne in this other place, but since he’s dead, now it’s you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re really going to do this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Is this really so much better than your life at home with us?”

  She actually felt a crack open down the center of her heart. Now that the anger had faded, she realized, for the first time, just how much she’d been in denial about that part of it. Her hands were starting to tremble. Anger was easier than this. “No, Mom. It isn’t about that. I love you. I love the life you gave me there. I don’t want to leave there, not at all. But I need to stay here. This is the right thing for me to do.”

  “I might not ever understand that, Quinn.”

  “I know. But do you think you could still love me, anyway?”

  “Oh, baby girl.” Tears ran down Megan’s cheeks as she pulled Quinn into her arms. “I will love you always. Nothing could change that. Do you think I’d be mad about all of this if I didn’t love you? I just don’t want to lose you.”

  “I’ll still visit. You can come here and visit, too. I know it won’t be the same, but . . .”

  “We’ll just have to make it work. There are a lot of things we’ll have to figure out, if you’re really not coming back.”

  A thick feeling filled Quinn’s throat as she sat back down on her stool. It had definitely been easier being mad. Maybe that’s why her mom had been so angry.

  William put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed gently. “It’s going to be hard on everyone. But maybe right now we should enjoy the time we do have together. I know I’d like to know you better, Megan.”

  Megan studied the two of them for several seconds. “He is a pretty good guy, isn’t he?”

  “I think so,” Quinn said, reaching up to cover one of his hands with hers. He leaned down and kissed her hair.

  “You’re going to take care of my girl?”

  “Yes, Megan. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I love her. And I want you to know that I never wanted to take her away from you. Whatever I can do to make sure that you’re as much a part of our lives as you can be – I promise you I’ll do it.”

  “I guess we have a wedding to plan, then.”

  As sad as she still was, Quinn felt lighter – like a huge weight had been lifted from her. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

  “Are you ever going to show me the ring?”

  Quinn felt William’s breathing speed as she extended her hand toward her mom, the little silver and gold ring twinkling in the light from the window. She glanced up at him to see his face growing red.

  “It’s not much,” he said quickly. “Rings are different here in our world…”

  While her mom took her left hand, Quinn reached with her right one to grab William’s wrist. “Don’t,” she said. “It’s perfect. Don’t you think so, Mom?”

  “It’s beautiful, honey.”

  As her mother stood and wrapped her arms around William’s neck, Quinn felt the fissure in her heart begin to heal, just a little.

  It wasn’t until Linnea came to ask if she wanted help getting dressed and ready for dinner that Quinn realized she was going to have to deal with seeing Ellen and Charles again at the meal.

  “Why would she need help getting ready? Are we supposed to dress up for dinner or something?” Megan asked.

  Her mother’s question made her forget about her nervousness at facing her aunt and uncle. It looked like her mom might actually try to participate with her in her life here – maybe, even though her family would soon be leaving, she would actually get to enjoy this time with them before that happened.

  “Yes. We’ve just had some important guests arrive, so my mother will be throwing a big dinner.” Linnea said. “There will be birthday cake for Quinn, too.”

  Quinn looked at her in surprise – she’d mostly forgotten about her birthday, let alone celebrating it.

  “We’ll find something for you, too, Megan. You and Annie come with us.”

  “I’ll take care of Owen,” William said, leaning to kiss Quinn’s cheek. “Have fun,” he whispered in her ear. He was smiling as they left, looking nearly as happy as she felt.

  14. The Dinner Party

  “You and Thomas share a room?” Owen asked, as William led him into the bedroom.

  “Sort of,” William said, smiling. “I actually have a room of my own, but I usually sleep in here with Thomas when I’m home. I always miss my family when I’m gone to your world, so I don’t really want to be alone when I get back.”

  Owen looked up at him. “Is Quinn going to miss us?”

  “She always misses you, buddy. She talks all the time about all of you, and how much she loves you all. I think she misses you especially, though.”

  He nodded. “Quinn understands me.”

  “Yeah, she does. She’s good that way, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you love her a lot, Owen. And she is always going to love you, even when you can’t see each other all the time.”

  “Can I see your room?”

  “Sure.” William smiled as he walked Owen back into the hallway. Owen wasn’t comfortable discussing his emotions with anyone, and William was aware of the trust the little boy had placed in him even getting as far as he just had.

  “Wow,” Owen said when William opened the door to his room. He headed straight for the long table that William had set up as a sort of mini-laboratory. “Is this real?” he asked, touching the base of one of the microscopes.

  “Yes. They’re all real.”

  “Where did you get them?”

  “My uncle ordered them for me from catalogs in your world.”

  “Do you want to be a doctor like him when you grow up, too?”

  “Well, here, in my world, I am mostly grown up, and I am already sort of a doctor.”

  “Can you fix people if they�
�re sick?”

  “Or hurt, yes, a lot of the time I can help them.”

  “Do you like helping them?”

  “Very much.”

  “When you were my age, did you know that you wanted to be a doctor when you grew up?”

  “I did. Actually, you see this microscope here?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Nathaniel gave this one to me for my eighth birthday. I looked at everything with it.”

  “Can you see blood in it?”

  “Blood cells?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A little bit. But this microscope here is better for that.”

  “Could I see my blood?”

  “You could if we had some. But I would have to poke your finger to get some, and I don’t think you’d like that much.”

  “I don’t care. I want to see it.”

  William frowned. “I don’t know, Owen.”

  “I don’t know anyone else who has a microscope.”

  “Your mom would probably buy you one. I can tell her where to look.”

  “She’s not a doctor. She wouldn’t let me look at my blood. Please?”

  Something about it was important to the little boy – William got the feeling that Owen had thought about this before. He didn’t know what it was, but he understood, very well, what it was like to have a curiosity about something that needed to be satisfied. He went to a drawer and found some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and a tiny lancet.

  Owen didn’t even wince when William pricked his finger. He was very interested in the process as William helped him squeeze a small drop of blood onto a slide, and then snap the slide onto the platform of the microscope. He showed Owen how to adjust the lenses and turn the dials until the blood cells came clearly into focus.

  The little boy was fascinated, asking questions and listening intently to the answers as they found the different kinds of cells in the little drop.

  “Is that what it’s supposed to look like?” Owen asked.

  “Yes. It’s exactly what it’s supposed to look like. It’s perfect.”

  “Okay.” Owen sighed, seeming almost…disappointed?

  “Did you think it wouldn’t be?”

  Owen shrugged. “I just wondered if it would be different, somehow. But it isn’t.”

  Oh. William swallowed hard.

  “You know, Owen, everyone is different than other people in some way. Not in their blood, usually, but somewhere in their hearts and their minds. I wasn’t much the same as my brothers and sisters, either. And I was very different than the kids at school. Sometimes that was kind of hard, and lonely, too.”

  “Is it still hard?”

  “Not usually. I’m older now, and I understand it better. And I know that the same things that make me different are the ones that make me good at what I want to do. They make me good at learning new things, and using those things to help people. There are plenty of people who love me just like I am, Owen – and there are just as many who love you how you are. You’re perfect, already. Quinn loves you exactly how you are. So do Annie and your mom and your dad…and so do I.”

  “Will you still get to be a doctor when you marry my sister and she’s the queen? Can a king be a doctor, too?”

  William smiled at the quick change in subject – he’d gone a little too far again with Owen, but he hoped that what he’d managed to say would sink in over time. He really had fallen in love with the amazing little boy. It was going to be hard to say good-bye.

  “I don’t know how it will all work out, Owen. I’ll still be a doctor, but I don’t think it will be the same as I always figured it was going to be. That’s okay, though. Sometimes you meet people, and you find out they’re more important than whatever your first plans were, and so you make new ones.”

  “And my sister is more important than your old plans?”

  “Very much more important. But speaking of your sister…even though it usually takes the girls longer to get ready for dinner than us boys, if we don’t get you into the bath soon, they’re going to be waiting for us. And that’s not good. So how about you pick which room you want to take a bath in, and then I’ll go take a shower in the other one.”

  And also thinking of Quinn…once William had gotten Owen in the bath, he remembered that they were going to be celebrating Quinn’s birthday tonight, too. He hadn’t really had a chance to get her anything – but last night he’d remembered something that he’d come across a couple of weeks ago as he’d been going through some of his old books. He’d wrapped it then, and now he remembered to put it on the table so he could slip it in the pocket of his cape before he went downstairs.

  * * *

  As Linnea carefully finished lowering Quinn’s dress over her head, Megan gasped.

  “Oh, honey, you’re so beautiful. So grown up.”

  A flash of heat hit her cheeks. “It’s just a dress, Mom.” She looked up to examine herself in the long bathroom mirror as Linnea and Megan both started buttoning up the back.

  Linnea had outdone herself this evening. The floor-length gown she had picked out was a soft cream color, overlaid with dark green flowers down the short sleeves and the long skirt. She’d pulled up some of Quinn’s hair into an intricate bun held in place with a gold barrette, but the rest of it flowed down past her shoulders. The image of herself in the mirror made her suck in a breath.

  “Time to start looking like the heir to the throne,” Linnea said, leaving Megan to finish the last few buttons while she fastened the pendant around Quinn’s neck.

  Looking in the mirror, seeing the dress, the way her auburn hair was swept up in an intricate design – the way the pendant lay against her neck like it belonged there – Quinn suddenly felt, for the first time, like she actually was the heir to a throne. For a second, anyway. After that, the sensation was so overwhelming that she had to look away and push it from her mind.

  She turned to face her mother. “You look amazing, too.” Linnea had managed to come up with a dress for Megan that complimented Quinn’s.

  “What about me?” Annie asked, running back into the bathroom and twirling so that her skirt flared out.

  “You’re always pretty,” Quinn said, scooping her sister into her arms and hugging her tightly. “But especially right now.”

  “Can I have a necklace, too?” Annie asked.

  “Uh . . .”

  “Sure!” Linnea said. “Want to come with me to get one?”

  “Yeah!” Annie practically leaped from Quinn’s arms to follow Linnea out of the bathroom and toward the door.

  Quinn was left standing there facing her mom, heavy emotion filling her chest.

  “One thing,” Megan said, and a tone in her voice made Quinn’s stomach clench nervously. “What is this?” She pointed to her own chest, but Quinn knew exactly what she was asking, and heat flowed from the top of her head to her toes.

  “It’s a tattoo.”

  “Seriously, Quinn?”

  She was never going to be able to explain that one in a way her mother was going to be happy about. Taking a second before she answered, she remembered her conversation with Linnea the other day – her mom wasn’t going to treat her as an adult by this unless she acted like one, calm and decisive.

  “It’s a long story, Mom. I’ll try and explain it later, but I really don’t want us to get upset with each other tonight. For now, can you just trust me that I’m making the best decisions I know how to, and that all I want from you is for us to just love each other and have as many good memories together as we can, instead of fighting?”

  Megan was silent for several seconds, but finally she took a deep breath, and then nodded.

  “Thank you,” Quinn said, feeling her hands relax out of their tight fists.

  “I’m trying.”

  “I know. And I appreciate it more than I could ever tell you, Mom.”

  Megan blinked furiously for a few seconds, and then she cleared her throat. She walked toward one of the night tables, and pick
ed up a little wrapped package that Quinn hadn’t noticed before. “I wanted to give you your gift,” she said. “I had it on me when I came, because I’d just picked it up from the shop that afternoon – whenever that was. I did ask Charlotte for help with wrapping it – I guess they don’t have wrapping paper here?”

  Quinn shook her head. “They do wrapped presents for some things now – I think they might have learned that from William or Nathaniel…but no, no wrapping paper.”

  The little gift was wrapped in soft, blue cloth tied with a ribbon. Quinn untied it, opened it, and looked up at her mom with tears in her eyes.

  “I told you, Quinn…I think there was a part of me that knew this was going to happen, or that was trying to convince you not to do it.”

  It was a photo album – the pictures were all digital, or had been converted to be, but they were arranged on the pages like a scrapbook. The first pictures were of Quinn as a baby, being held by Samuel or Megan, sometimes both of them. There was even one she’d never seen before – of Nathaniel staring at her in delight as she took a wobbly step.

  Her mouth fell open, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Mom…”

  The following pictures were in order, each of Quinn’s school pictures, her in her flower girl dress at Megan and Jeff’s wedding, her holding a tiny baby Owen, “helping” him learn to walk, kissing a newborn Annie…all the way up to the family photo that had been taken of all of them last summer.

  “It’s beautiful. I don’t know how something can be so wonderful and so impossibly sad at the same time.”

  “Me either, sweetheart.”

  They were still hugging when they were both startled by Thomas’ voice. “Is everyone dressed in here?”

  “Yes, we’re ready,” Quinn said.

  Her heart gave a little flutter at the sight of Thomas and William standing by the doorway, dressed in their formalwear – crisply ironed black pants and white button-down shirts, covered with purple velvet capes, fastened at the neck with the seal of Eirentheos. Between them stood Owen, his outfit matching theirs – they’d even found him a cape somewhere – freshly cleaned and combed. He smiled shyly up at Quinn and Megan, even as he fidgeted uncomfortably over the attention.