Burned » Kai Parker

22

"Remember what I told you."

I nervously flexed my fingers over the handle of my mini suitcase and looked at Sam. "Wait thirty minutes after dinner to have Thanksgiving dessert?"

"The other thing I told you."

A low breath of air left my lungs in a harsh burst. "Don't give mom a hard time. I know. And FYI, Sam, I was never planning to. It's apparently a universal rule that birthdays and holidays call for white flags and buried hatchets."

One that I didn't necessarily agree with, but I would still abide by the principle. My stubbornness was desperate to rear its ugly head and show my mother just a little bit of the cold shoulder, but I locked it away for the time-being. The phone call we'd had about my training–former training with Kai was old news by now and really, it fit everything I already knew about the woman for years.

She didn't get my magic. I was silly to expect her to, as if such a shift in her mentality could be triggered overnight. It was one of those injustices that sometimes, we can't change, when it comes to our parents. They're the people we tolerate shit from more than anyone else, right?

The thought wavered. I even grimaced slightly at it.

Fine, so I just wanted to cut off Sam's nagging and that motivated my decision to play the good daughter more than true will. But it was my decision all the same.

It was Thanksgiving. Well, it was the day before Thanksgiving, but the gracious energy was in the air by now. I'd do my best to soak it up and reinforce my childhood home with positivity.

And I loved my mom, even if it sometimes felt impossible to appease her entirely. Maybe no one ever felt good enough in the shadow of their parent's intent gaze. Probably some psychological phenomenon that students study all the time, or whatever. I doubted I was special, so why even think too hard about it?

Okay. There was a chance that being back in Sacramento was already dampening my usual resolve. It was home, after all, had been since I was a baby witch. I didn't want to ruin the trip with a looming wall of tension.

Sam gave me a smile that I think was supposed to look reassuring, but on him, it totally exposed the anxiety that my peacemaker brother was harboring. I pretended not to notice it.

"So..." I stared down at the walkway to our childhood home. "Can we go knock now, instead of standing here like weirdos?"

"One more thing." He put a hand on my arm, stopping me when I'd started to move. "Uh, maybe don't mention the, er, thing right away."

"The thing...?"

"The Kai thing," he whispered. "Give her some time to get all warm and fuzzy first. Then, like, casually mention it when the time feels right, you know? I don't think her reaction will be disastrous, or anything, but you know how she feels about last minute–"

I tugged my arm out of his grip. "I'm not gonna spring it on her right away, Sam, Jesus. And it's not a huge deal, anyway."

"You invited the Gemini coven leader over to our house for dinner tomorrow without asking her first. I'm just saying, be cautious."

My face burned a little. "I get it. I was impulsive and I accept all repercussions. Can we please go inside now?"

He nodded, apparently having satisfied all his pre-visit lectures. Thank God.

Originally, my plan wasn't to tell Sam at all. Which wasn't so much a plan as much as it was me avoiding my problems, to be honest. But I thought it might be easier to spring it on him and my mom at the same time, two birds with one measly stone.