Profession

After Yalta

I figured I'd take a nap, digest--not that I'd eaten much, just in case, it had been an exciting 24 hours--and I did. It was longer than I thought, and I woke up when Jon got home and sat on the bed.

"How are you doing, honey?" he asked, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone.

"Tired but ok. I think that things are just catching up with me." We chatted lightly about an interview he had lined up and my lunch with Tabby. He heartily approved of my request that Hestia take back her gift. The pups jumped off the bed when we left the room to go down for dinner; I hadn't even felt them come up during my nap. Dinner was delicious and light, and I made an early night of it.

I felt much better the next day, calmer, more collected, but I was balked at Hestia's sanctuary. The priestess looked up as I came in, then flared bright as the goddess possessed her. "No," she said flatly.

"Why not? You almost killed me with your little stunt," I said, getting angry. My fingers found the small shaved place on my scalp where the incision had been made and healed. Unfortunately, the tissue accelerator doesn't work on hair. Why not? Maybe Wayne should look into hair growth treatments for surgery patients. But fortunately, the patch was covered by my hair as long as I didn't style it weird.

"I merely warned you from going farther. Your breech with your family troubles me, and hard words will not effect change."

"The headache hurt so much that my blood pressure spiked, poked a hole in a blood vessel in my brain. And made me throw up, thanks tons. I had to have emergency surgery to correct the bleeding. So tell me again how killing me is going to effect familial peace?" The goddess was silent. "I get that you gods don't actually think much of us. Humans are tools for your larger purposes, and we're treated like it. If you kill me, even accidentally, you'll pick up another tool somewhere. Maybe that kid that Derinoe's growing, poor thing. And who are you to punish me? Why aren't you punishing other people, too? You also gave Diana a gift. Why aren't you making her behave? It has to be a violation of hospitality to invite someone to your home under false pretenses."

"I did not mean to push you so hard," the goddess finally said. "But you are under my special care, and I wish for you to have a happy and harmonious family, a home where all can gather. The distance between you is such that they did not so much as witness your marriage."

"That's not up to you," I snapped. "My family is the problem. I've tried hard to be what they wanted, and for me, to be seen for myself and appreciated and loved with no conditions, no strings attached, the way I see other families behave. Fully and fairly, and that's never happened. It's not going to happen because of the kind of people Diana and Daniel are together. In thirty, forty years, Daniel will be dead anyway and he'll only be a bitter memory. Diana will far outlive me. Sometimes I wonder if she'll even remember me after I'm dead. Why aren't you speaking to her?" The priestess looked concerned.

"Because fundamentally, she is the daughter of Zeus, even if none dare acknowledge it, and if he were to ever know or take an interest in her--and he might, she is a valiant  hero--I could be called to account."

"You people shouldn't have given her such powerful gifts if you're not going to hold her accountable for them."

"But largely, she is kind and generous, brave and courageous in battle, truly representing what is best about the Amazons in the wider world."

"Just not at home." The goddess sighed.

"I will not argue with you further. I will not take back my gifts. But I will be more cautious in exercising my power."

"I'm afraid to have people in my own home or to visit theirs," I said, feeling near tears. "If I can't host my friends and family without worried that you're going to snuff me for differences in opinion, my home is just a building. Take back your gift. Home is where the heart is, not something that's a gift from you. And who are you to set the laws of hospitality, anyway? I live in America, thousands of years from the time when the Olympians had sway over pan-Hellenic culture. I'm not Greek, I don't hold a Greek passport. Look at it another way, you're the guest in this country, and it's rude no matter how you look at it to force people to do what you want with it. I didn't even get a say in whether I wanted a gift or not. Take it back!"