Favorite : Change for the both of us

Chapter 3

Poseidon's POV

"You're panicking again," Hestia says in a sing-song voice, glancing over at me with a smirk on her face.

"Am not," I huff, resting my cheek on me fist, glaring at the dashboard of my sister's car. You can probably guess that we're on our way to meet my son, Percy – the son I only found out I have a few days ago.

"Fine. You're nervous. Take your pick,"

I divert my glare to Hestia, who raises her eyebrow at me. I open my mouth to make a quip, but close it again. I feel ill. Who knew that meeting your long-lost child could make you this damn jittery...

"What's he like?" I ask after another five minutes of silence. I assume that Hestia is tired of hearing me say that by now, but she just smiles. Always so humble, my sister.

"Well, when I met him, he was confused as to why I was there," she says. "He was a little quiet and shy. I could see that he was very withdrawn, too. When I told him about you, he looked shocked. But he didn't hesitate in agreeing to meet you today. He wanted to honour his mother's last wish. Oh, and he was curious. He's a lot like you, Poseidon. Physically and mentally, it seems,"

A smile tugs at my lips. I don't know why, but hearing that makes my chest feel warm. It's a weird sensation. I just hope I don't come across as too awkward when we do meet. And that Percy is somewhat...accepting of me. The last thing I need is an angry little boy glaring at me for the next hour.

We pull into the driveway of the children's home. Hestia was right – it is the most miserable place I've ever seen. "C'mon," Hestia urges, getting out of the car.

I follow her to the door. Hestia knocks and a teenage girl answers. "Yeah?" she asks, chewing gum, staring down at her phone. She can't be any older than thirteen.

"We're here to see Miss Martha," Hestia says.

The girl glances up through mascara-coated eyelashes and motions for us to enter. Once the door closes behind us the girl disappears upstairs. Hestia and I stand in the hallway which leads through to the kitchen at the back of the house. To the right there's the staircase that the teenage girl went up and lining the left wall there are doors, obviously leading to rooms like the living room.

A woman in her forties, obviously hearing the front door, steps out of the closest room which I think is some sort of nursery for the younger children (judging by the cries and wails coming from in there).

"Ah, Miss Olympia!" she says, smiling when she sees my sister. They shake hands, exchanging greetings, and the woman's eyes fall on me. "And you must be Poseidon Olympia. Lovely to meet you. My dear, you do look like Percy, don't you? It's a actually little frightening..."

I shrug neutrally, unable to talk through the lump in my throat, and shake her hand too. Does Percy really look exactly like me? I want to ask, but I can't bring myself to it.

"How is Percy?" Hestia asks.

"He's been skittish all week," the woman, who I assume is Miss Martha, says. "Very nervous and even more fidgety than usual. He's been busying himself with the younger children – he's always been very good with them, especially little Gracie,"

"Like his father then," Hestia says, glancing at me. "Working overtime at the aquarium,"

"It's not my fault it's the summer holidays and there are loads of visitors," I grumble, trying my hardest not to sound moody. My sister and the carer just look at me in amusement, however.

"Percy's in there," Miss Martha says, motioning to the second doorway, which was closed. "Whenever you're ready, you can go in there and see him. I'll just be in here if there are any issues," Miss Martha motions to the doorway she'd come out of and goes back in.