WHO: Lyra, Jem, Jocelyn and Patrick WHEN: Saturday afternoon WHERE: Patrick's place WHAT: Coming out to your folks as a demigod WARNINGS: Unlikely
For all that they lived on top of each other, the Campbell-Aquilina household didn’t have many proper family meetings. To make decisions (and these ranged from ‘what we’re having for dinner’ to ‘who’s watching Jemma’ to ‘how we gonna handle this overdue bill?’) they operated on a majority rules basis; so long as two of them agreed the third adult could suck it up. So long as one of the agreeing adults was Jocelyn. There had only been a rare few times when Lyra and Jem had joined forces against Jocelyn’s wishes, the most memorable time being when they decided to blow Lyra’s scratchie winnings on their trip to Mexico.
They weren’t big on grand announcements either. Information tended to be given quickly in passing – even big stuff, like Jocelyn had broken the news that she had diabetes as Lyra was getting out of the shower and just as Jem was putting baby Jemma to bed. Jocelyn wasn’t big on fusses.
Jem was. Sometimes. She’d been known to stand up on the couch to make a proclamation but on the other hand, sometimes she kept important shit to herself for too long, either because she was in denial about something (like, say, her pregnancy) or because all she wanted was for someone to ask.
And Lyra, usually she just blurted stuff out while they were doing dishes, or as soon as she walked in the door with something to say. The faerie secret had been an anomaly, but then again, it had every right to be. It was an anomaly. Patrick wasn’t, though. Patrick was a real flesh and blood dad and he didn’t deserve to be a secret.
The point was, news in this house rarely came with preamble. So when Lyra said “hey, can we talk? I’ve got something to tell you,” and set the pot of coffee down in the middle of the small kitchen table, it drew attention straight away.
Jocelyn gave her a long hard look, as though she could read the news on Lyra’s face. Jem had just returned from dropping off Jemma with her father, Dante, who was in town over Christmas and whose presence had been making Jocelyn antsy.
“Oh my god, baby, are you pregnant?” Jem asked, sitting down across from Lyra, her hand pressed over her mouth.
“No! Mom!” Lyra protested, feeling just the smallest spike of annoyance when Jocelyn looked relieved too, like her grandmother thought there was a chance she’d ever risk it. Hell no. Two forms of protection, always. Especially with abortion rights crumbling away across the country. “No, it’s about my dad. I found him.”
Jocelyn sat down with a thump, both of the women staring at her. “That’s not possible,” Jem said, faintly. “I didn’t even know – how did you – no, you can’t’ve.”
“I did a DNA test.” Lyra had decided – and Rosario had agreed, so she knew it was right – that she had to break it to them in stages. She couldn’t hit them with the full story, not straight away, not and have them do anything other than flip. Start with something understandable, then get together with Patrick and explain who he was, then once they’d come to terms with that she could be like, actually there was no DNA test. It was just a necessary footstool to get them all where they needed to be. “His name is Patrick, and he is Irish, like you thought. He's Patrick Finnegan, he lives in DUMBO and he works with immigrants at the Irish Heritage Centre.”
Jem was too shocked to speak, and Jocelyn was still looking at her like she was trying to read her, like she knew there was more behind this. Well, there was, but Lyra was sure it wasn’t what she thought. “He’s legit. Me and Rosario did a buncha background on him. He’s a good guy–”
“You can’t possibly know that,” Jocelyn interrupted, her brows drawn in a worried curve.
“I get it, okay? I was worried too. But even Roz liked him–”
“You’ve already met this man?”
“Can I finish?!” Lyra flung out her hands, and Jocelyn pursed her lips and turned her attention to the coffee pot, where she started to pour out three mugs. “Thank you,” Lyra said, maybe a little less graciously that she could have. “Yeah, I met him. We emailed for a bit, and then me and Rosario went and met him in a bar. He’s funny, he’s a dork, he wants to get to know me. He wants to meet you guys and get to know you, too.”
A nervous laugh escaped Jem, and she’d curled her fingers in front of her mouth and her teeth were worrying a nail. Lyra kinda got it. This was a guy her mom’d met once, who’d fathered her kid, changed her life in one night. Or… day? Lyra wasn’t clear on the specifics and didn’t need to be, honestly. Patrick was a guy Jem never expected she’d ever meet again because there were billions of people in the world and how was that ever gonna happen? If it was Lyra, she’d be freaked, too. “Mom?" she said, reaching across the table for her hand. "It’s okay.”
“I just can’t believe it...” Jem said, and reached out too, squeezing tight. “What does he look like, now, do you have a photo?”
Lyra had loads, including the one of Patrick with his halo, and one she really loved of Patrick and Iestyn, but the ‘I’ve got cousins and uncles and aunts’ could wait too. “This is him on Halloween,” she passed her phone over, figuring the one in zombie makeup was safe, it kinda disguised how he looked exactly the same as he would have when he’d met Jem more than two decades ago. Jem held the phone at arms length and stared at the screen, trying to dredge up that memory, though as soon as Jocelyn leaned over to look too, she stopped.
“He’s free today?” Lyra suggested, with a hopeful smile. “You could see him in person... and grandma wouldn’t you feel better if you met him in person?”
“I am certainly meeting this man in person,” Jocelyn said, giving Lyra another worried look. “Your hopes about him are already up, aren’t they?”
“A bit,” Lyra said, a sheepish understatement. They were, though. Her hopes about Patrick were high, and had only climbed higher every time they spoke. She wasn’t unaware she could get hurt, but, she never was. She did take a lot of risks in her life, but risks weren’t risks if you didn’t know you were risking something. So yeah, she knew she could get hurt dangling off buildings, or handling power tools, or crossing the road or letting her feelings run away with her when it came to boys who weren't so great at reciprocation (unless you counted the kissing.) She could get hurt, but... maybe not??
And wasn’t it worth it? If Patrick turned out to be as decent as she wanted him to be? Her heart was really, really set on singing with him next week, she’d been practising every chance she got, she’d spent hours last night looking through classic karaoke songs and scouring their lyrics so she could make the perfect, meaningful selections without looking like she was even trying.
“Lyra,” Jocelyn sighed, deeply, pressing her lips against the side of her mug. “I wish you’d told us you were looking for him. I didn’t even know this was on your mind. You have been off, lately... I thought it was the job hunt getting to you.”
“I mean... it’s not not getting to me,” Lyra, who’d had another ‘thanks for your application but haha are you kidding?’ email last night, shrugged. It wasn’t the biggest thing, though. Not like dads. Dads and gods and curses and cousins. She could deal with rejection and how it meant she had to keep working at Taco Bell cuz her window cleaning job only just covered rent. “But yeah, I know I been distracted. Patrick’s one’ve the things that was going on. And I wanted to meet him first to see if, y’know, I wanted him in my life and now that I know I do, I want you guys to meet him too. So can we? Go and, and find out who he is?”
As they walked up the street toward Patrick’s place, Lyra was certain there was no way she could have convinced her mom to come if it had just been the two of them. Jocelyn sure was keen, though her motivation was definitely based in protectiveness and concern more than it was based in excitement for meeting new family, and Jem? Jem looked like she wanted to be anywhere else, to be doing anything else rather than letting herself be dragged along by her daughter and mother to face someone she didn’t have a clue how to face.
We’re outside Lyra messaged Patrick, then pushed her phone into her pocket and linked arms with her mom as they walked. Lyra had thought she would be the most nervous one, today, but with her mom loudly radiating it, there wasn't a whole lotta room for Lyra's nerves.
“It’s all gonna be okay,” she told Jem, again, and her mom smiled a pressed flat smile and said “mmm” in a thin, scared voice Lyra didn’t know how to fix, so she just and squeezed her arm back real tight as Jocelyn stepped passed them to rap on Patrick’s door.