Profession

Disaster

Whew. Soothing took a lot out of me. I hadn't realized just how heavy and oppressive my brain damage made me. It felt like I'd waded out of a waist-deep mud pit, feeling so much lighter and free. But that very lightness was disorienting, and I felt so joyous sometimes, blipping to feeling off-balance because what was dragging me down, the anchor of brain damage, was gone, and I didn't know how to feel or deal with that, actually. At the end of the meal, I did offer to go back to Asgard, just for the ceremony, with my new cameras, if I had a guarantee that I could leave at any time. I felt that since I had new equipment, that I should execute the work I'd agreed to, at least in recompense for the medical treatment. But nobody, including Loki, was down with the plan, and Loki said explicitly that there was no obligation for the work the healer had done. It made me feel that my presence would be problematic. And that made me feel embarrassed and ashamed of the way I'd acted, although I had done the best I could under the circumstances.

Dad dropped us off home, telling me that he was glad I was ok, that my head had been fixed, and I agreed to go to dinner out at his house the next day. I was concerned about my pups, and thought that time with their siblings and mom would be beneficial. They could go in and out at the mansion. I'd have to be extra attentive and affectionate, making sure they knew how great they wore.

I had the rest of my vacation to go through. After thinking about it the next morning, I decided not to start classes again until my time off was over. Or take clients for my business. And a few days to myself, especially to adjust to my new headspace, would be beneficial. I left a message with Dr Lance, telling her what had happened, my mood swings, how I was feeling, then went outside. It was sunny and lovely, and the pups crashed in the morning room while I went out on the river. It felt like heaven to row my little scull up and down, working off emotional energy and the grungy feeling I had from Asgard. When I was tired, I put the scull back in the boathouse and went in to shower. And have lunch; I'd been out longer than I had realized.

Later in the afternoon, Dr Lance called back and we had a session. She reassured me that I could expect to have mood swings as I adjusted to the changes in my physiology and anatomy, and we worked out some coping skills. After that, I was back to feel ebullient, reveling, turning on the house speakers and dancing around the main floor. The pups woke up and joined me, prancing and chasing each other. Then we went to the groomers--Thyra and Langley were well-known and loved there--and then out to a nice dinner. We walked home in the twilight, and although I kept myself anchored in a good way by maintaining awareness of passersby--there were common crooks in the city like muggers, not just psycho supervillains--absolutely nothing happened. Security was intact at the house, so the pups stayed outside to play and I went inside. I played around on the pool table to keep my skills up, then turned on the TV to a classic movie while I did some computer work for my vigilantes, including whistling practice. I whistled flat a lot. I went upstairs and had a long, long bath before the pups and I went to bed. The bed wasn't nearly as large as on Asgard, but it was large enough for us, it was familiar, and we were glad to be there.

We slept in the next day, and while I was waiting for my coffee to brew, got a call from Deri. She'd heard a precis about what had happened from Dad, and offered to host the pups for a couple of days, giving them time with their family, and promised to spend time building up their confidence, which had taken a hit. They liked the idea, as long as it wasn't a very long visit, and two days were agreed to by all parties. They'd stay after dinner. Somewhat to my surprise, she didn't take the opportunity to critique me, but that was probably because she had ulterior motives. Wedding things. She'd hired not one but two wedding coordinators,  she (and Grant, presumably) were making the big decisions and leaving it to the coordinators to flesh out. "We've decided on the Lighthouse at Chelsea Piers, for the reception," she said. "Beautiful views, it's inside, so the weather won't matter, an August wedding. It'll be hot, so temperature control is necessary. There are two suites available so we can all get ready there. The wedding will actually be on The High Line nearby at twilight. The ceremony will only be about twenty minutes; we'll have the guests shuttled to the pier while we get pictures, then we'll be there for dinner and dancing."