Morningstar Manor

They had plans for tomorrow, since Harvey had decided that Mother's Day was good for an Aunt Rhi day too, and so for today, they were going to visit Tristan's mother. Rhiannon wasn't looking forward to it, but this time she had Tristan and Harvey with her, and Tristan's firm promise that if she started being rude to or about her or Harvey they could leave.

So now they were sitting in the back of Tristan's car while Stan drove, her sitting next to Tristan and Harvey on the other side of her with his hair neatly combed and wearing a nice, clean, plaid button down shirt with little pressed khakis. She could say without being biased that her kiddo was adorable, and hopefully he was so adorable that even a snooty witch like Tristan's mother would soften a little.

Rhiannon was hot and uncomfortable, but didn't dare move the tiny, hot with fever body that was sleeping fitfully against her chest. Harvey had gotten her up in the middle of the night on Tuesday by walking into her bedroom and throwing up beside her bed. Not a huge deal, but when she'd put her hand to his forehead he'd been on fire. A quick read of his temperature had put him at one hundred and three, and she'd rushed him off to the emergency room where she'd learned he had a severe inner ear infection. Awesome.

She'd never had to deal with him being this sick. Cuts and bruises, sniffles and coughs, sure. But the achey, sick, burning with fever Harvey kept her in a constant state of worry. She'd sent Rosie home with Auggie and decided to take care of him herself, which was good because he hardly wanted to do anything other than be held by her. She'd had to cancel a date with Tristan, but she knew he'd understand. She also hoped he'd gotten her text requesting more popcicles. It was about the only thing she could get Harvey to eat.

Harvey had gotten Rhiannon up nice and early this morning, shouting in glee at the Star Wars Storm Trooper helmet and gun that he'd gotten in his Easter basket. He'd spent the whole morning tucking and rolling around her living room, talking in a robot voice thanks to the helmet and pretending to shoot Auggie, who alternated between chasing him and yipping happily to running as fast as he could to hide. Lestat had taken to hiding behind the TV stand and refused to come out. Her boys were cute, if not wild as hell.

Now she stood in her kitchen putting the finishing touches on her Easter dinner, dressed casually in a tank top and a pair of jeans and waiting for Tristan to arrive.

Lee had taken Rhiannon this morning to a friend's house who had rescued a young, pregnant Japanese Spitz from a Amish puppy mill a few months ago. The dog had it's puppies not long after, all turned out healthy, and now Rhiannon carried a tiny, white, bundle of fur onto the Manor grounds that she had named Auggie.

Harvey, though excited to have a puppy, was pouting. "It's a girly dog," he said with both arms crossed. "I want something big and Badbutt. Like a Doberman or a Great Dane. Something that can eat people's heads."

"Why would you need to eat someone's head?" Rhiannon asked as she sat the puppy down in the grass to let it play. It pranced around and rolled on it's back for a belly rub, all friendliness, which made Rhiannon coo.

"Because sometimes people are bad," Harvey answered plainly and Lee followed that up with an "Mmmmhmmm. But a dog like that? Chick magnet, buddy."

Harvey's nose wrinkled. "Why would I want to attract a bunch of baby chickens?"