Realistic or Modern Transformation

[Poe]

Rita couldn’t help but smile as his hands slipped down her sides and thumbs outlined the lines of her abdomen. It always amazed her how soft his touch could be, because aside from his warm brown eyes and curly hair, Leon was a powerful man. She had never known him without the curse, but being a werewolf kept him in unbelievable shape and ever since they met he could easily toss her over his shoulder or carry her up the stairs. It was as though it took very little effort, if any, and to see him admiring her hardwood and strength made her feel equal. She was not a hindrance anymore. Instead, she was just as strong and could carry herself alongside all of them. There was no need for Orvar’s doubt or questioning as to why she was involved.

And when his lips crashed against hers, deep and needing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and followed his lead. It was a powerful kiss, so much so that Rita felt her body instinctually melt into his and the breath being pulled from her lungs. All she wanted to do was take him home and---

“Fuck, really?” Jason called out as the door to the basement opened and he descended the stairs with some ice packs, “Get a fucking room before it starts smelling like wet dog down here.”

Surprised by his entrance, Rita pulled back her lips from Leon and turned just enough to shoot Jason a glare as he approached them with little care as to what he was interrupting. At his snide comment, she rolled her eyes and slipped from Leon’s hold to take the ice pack from Jason. “Shut up, Jason,” she scoffed as she took the ice pack and pressed it to her shoulder. Immediately, she winced but let out a deep, relieved sigh as the burning dulled under the cold compress. “Are we done here?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess tasing you twice is going to have to be enough for today,” he replied, pushing it ever so slightly with his peripheral on Leon. It was like a battle of testosterone, but Rita knew that between the two – Leon would win, any day. “Next time we can work on more situational awareness. You know, throw you in hell and watch you work your way out of it. Heard you’re pretty good at working your way out of handcuffs, maybe we’ll have to test that theory. Who knows, I’ll figure something out.”

Rita nodded and turned back to Leon. She took his hand with her free one and flashed him a knowing smirk, flirtation clear in her eyes. “You wanna head out then? I can think of a few things we need to get done at home.”

 

[Acorn]

Jason’s voice was a bucket of cold water dumped on his head, and Leon blinked rapidly as Rita pulled away from him. It didn’t take long for his expression of surprise to slide into one of irritation, though. He was partially annoyed that he’d forgotten the ex-Enforcer had gone to get Rita something for her shoulder, but mainly with how Jason had gone about interrupting them. Wet dog? Jason couldn’t let a moment pass before he reminded him what he thought of him, could he? He was werewolf, not weredog, and the motherfucker would do well to remember it. He didn’t transform into some floppy-eared mutt ready for snuggles and pats on the head, he transformed into a pointy-eared beast that could rip his face off.

Leon made himself take a deep breath through his nose that he released in a huff as he clenched his teeth, causing the muscles of his jaw to flare. This was what Jason wanted. He wanted a reaction and he needed to stop giving him what he wanted; he needed to calm himself. His second round of deep, calming breaths came to a halt when Jason landed a one-two punch reminding him that he’d tased Rita twice just that day, and that she’d suffered at the Enforcers’ hands even before they’d made it a point to torment her.

Lorelei cuffing her to a chair and forcing her to watch a recording of her fiancé — her first fiancé — dying, and a whole slew of ones showing the torture he’d undergone to learn how to control his transformation, had been meant as a reminder for them both. For Rita, that she was meant to keep werewolf attacks from happening to others, to prevent anyone else from feeling the loss she had when Chase had died. For him, that they were the ones who’d made his ability to transform outside the full moon a reality. They owned him. They owned both of them.

Rita had torn herself from the handcuffs in order to free herself and startled Lorelei so he could escape. They’d fled together, not knowing where they went beyond knowing it had to be away from the facility.

He’d opened his mouth to shoot something scathing and clever at Jason, but Rita took his hand and his mouth snapped shut again. Her tone and the look she gave him immediately made him forget his annoyance.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes riveted to hers and the small smile that he only ever shared with her on his lips, “me too. Let’s go.”

Leon didn’t even spare Jason a backward glance as he walked out of the gym with Rita.

They were almost to the front door before Orvar called out to them. The vampire had a manilla folder in hand that he held out to Leon.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a case,” Leon said.

“I’m afraid I must,” Orvar replied, still holding the file out.

“Fine, give it here.” He snatched the folder and resumed walking towards the door with Rita, but Orvar cleared his throat and Leon looked over his shoulder at the blond man.

“It can, however, wait until tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Leon grinned.

He planned on it.

 

[Poe]

She hadn’t planned on this.

There was plenty to be done – the wedding posed a myriad of issues that Rita had to field from location, to time of day for the sake of their more nighttime-acclimated guests, to every little detail down to the napkins. There was also the issue of her job, which had turned into more of a part-time gig coupled with her work for Leon and Orvar. Day in and day out, she worked with supernaturals and their families, finding them housing, providing contacts and comforts in any way that she could, but more than anything she was slowly becoming the face of what they were doing. She never intended it, but before long people were calling the office to talk to Rita, specifically, and there were even some refugees that would ask for her by name after they were found by Leon and Nate.

It was flattering, it all was, but something had to give.

She hadn’t planned on not being able to sleep, or the nightmares that came with the few blinks of rest she managed, and more often than not it pushed her out to the balcony off their bedroom. The door was cracked, warm Louisiana air brushed the curtains back and Rita sat on the little loveseat out in the open night air. Her hair was down, which was starting to become a luxury with how much she ran around and worked up a sweat, and it hung longer than it ever had over her shoulders. Clad in a black silk nightgown, she tucked her knees to the side and just watched as the fireflies welcomed midnight.

Or two am. Or three am. Hell if she could remember anymore.

It had been a long time since she was here. After Chase died, she would sit for hours on the couch of her downtown apartment and watch the world go by. Sometimes it was soothing to remember how small she was in the grand scheme of things, but she felt so large. There was so much to do, so many people who needed them, and here she was in the middle of it all – carrying the weight as best she could. It would have been fine too, if the nightmares hadn’t kicked up. Over and over she watched memories flicker through her mind and some weren’t even memories, they were fears manifesting. Sometimes it would be Leon being pummeled to death by Jenny, others it was the sound of his bones cracking as he transformed for the first time but instead of being able to reach out to him, she watched as Jackson buried silver in his chest. Lately, it was all Lorelei. It was new, this particular nightmare, and she found herself tied up again, body frozen by spell, and Lorelei moved with a sickening grace. First, she would break all of his bones with her magic, then she would burn his skin with silver, cackling all the while.

But the moment that shook Rita to the core never came to fruition. Lorelei would release another werewolf, one too far out of control, and she would laugh as it bounded for Rita – the only human in the room.

Then she would hear Leon’s cry, hear his footsteps, but he never quite managed to shift before he threw himself in front of her and was torn to shreds. Not that she ever saw it – it always ended with a scream and the sight of him succumbing to the claws of another beast, but Rita knew the way it was supposed to end.

It had been nearly three years now since she’d seen it, but no part of Rita would be able to survive seeing the shredded insides of her future husband, again.

She shook her head and let out a shaky breath. Both hands came up to push hair back and out of her face so she could let the warm breeze ease the tension in her temples. But it never quite went away.

 

[Acorn]

When Leon woke, it was because he’d reached for Rita in his sleep and encountered nothing but empty space. Eyes still closed, he scooted closer to her side of the bed, patting and swiping at the spot she should’ve been. He sluggishly considered she might’ve just gotten up to use the bathroom, and that she’d be back soon so he should try to go back to sleep, but the sheets were cold. She’d been up for a while. With a grunt, he rolled back over and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Regret soon followed when the time seared itself into the back of his skull.

Just when he thought he’d only ever see 2:45 AM for as long as he lived, the afterimage faded and he could make out the billowing of the curtains over the door.

He was no stranger to Rita’s trouble sleeping, but until recently, her nightmares had been few and far between, and easily remedied by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. Now, they drove her from bed. It wasn’t often he caught her while she was still outside, though. Usually, he stirred when she slipped back into bed, but would drift off again once she’d settled.

Leon returned his phone to the nightstand and pushed himself into a sitting position. With one hand braced on the mattress and the other scrubbing alternately at his face and the back of his neck, he sat until he felt confident enough to stand. Once he was on his feet, he went to the door and opened it enough to look out onto the balcony. His curls, absent the effort he made in the mornings to tame them, stood out wildly from his head, and his face was pinched as he squinted at Rita. She was beautiful there in her nightgown and her hair soft around her face, but the circumstance of her being out there in the first place took something away from it.

He shifted to go outside, but hesitated and went back into the room to grab a shirt that he tugged over his head, further creating a mane of his hair. Warm as it was, he still didn’t want to sit out on the balcony clad only in his boxers.

“Can’t sleep again?” he asked as he finally padded to the love seat, his voice thick like cold molasses. Leon eased himself down next to Rita and rested his forearm atop the seat just behind her. “Nice night for it, at least,” he added, looking sidelong at her with a crooked smile. His hand found its way to her hair and he brushed his fingers over the silken strands before he curled his hand around her shoulder and pulled, scooting towards her at the same time so she could curl up next to him. “Been up long?”

 

[Poe]

Usually, Leon didn’t come after her. It was an unspoken agreement between them that she would be back soon and most nights he didn’t even stir until she crept back into bed. It was a far cry from the way he had clung onto her after being shot, but that was to be expected. Back in those days, she never strayed far but so much had changed in three years that she almost felt silly now hearing him shuffle out onto the balcony. She had never intended to worry him, but in true Leon fashion, he scooted in next to her and pulled her close – allowing her just a moment to rest her head down and it felt so heavy weighed down with exhaustion.

He smiled at her, the smile he only saved for her, and she felt the guilt well up.

“I don’t really know, an hour – maybe two,” Rita breathed out with a small smile in return. She nuzzled up into him, reveling in the warmth of the night and his skin. It was usually enough to feel Leon there for her to fall asleep, but lately nothing protected her from the onslaught of nightmares. They came without warning, stayed far too long, and always lingered. She had considered, at one point, to go to therapy but she knew it was impossible. She couldn’t speak of her issues to someone who wasn’t accustomed to the world she lived in or the hell she had endured.

She would be committed in a second.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately,” she admitted quietly, her words punctuated by a gentle breeze. Knees tucked up and head resting in the crook of his neck, the world was quiet around them as if to make the moment easier on her – but nothing helped. Nothing took away the pulsating ache in her temples. “I’m just so tired and with my work, our work, training, and wedding planning it just all seems like I’m spinning my wheels but not making any distance. I’m not gaining any ground.”

“And we still have months of wedding stuff to do,” she buried her face into him and let out a deep, cleansing sigh. As much as she couldn’t sleep, having Leon there and talking to someone other than herself did feel like a bit of a catharsis. Something she desperately needed. “I called my mother today and had to hang up because I just couldn’t – she was throwing so much at me.”

She chuckled a soft, almost pathetic sound, “I just want to be able to close my eyes again.”

 

[Acorn]

“We could kill two birds with one stone if we ran off to Vegas. Skip all the wedding planning and your mother would never speak to either of us again.” He laughed and nuzzled his nose into her hair, then kissed the same spot.

He wished it was that easy, just like he wished he could pluck everything from her mind that troubled her — especially the things he felt he had a hand in. The wedding, the nightmares. She’d never breathed a word of it, and he’d never pressed, but he’d seen the relief on her face when she woke from troubled sleep and put eyes on him, and had felt how tightly she held onto him. He’d always wanted to tell her the dreams would never come to pass, but it’d only be a reassuring lie.

Chase had died because he’d dipped unintentionally into their world — the supernatural world — and they were neck deep swimming against the current. Every time he went out after a refugee or defector, there was a real chance he wouldn’t come back. They minimized the risk as best as they could, but the longer they worked against the Enforcers, the more chances there were something could happen to him or Rita, or hell, to any of them. Eventually standing a chance of ending the organization for good made the potential cost to their family seem negligible in the grand scheme of things, but on a smaller, personal level, he knew better. It’d kill him if anything happened to Rita.

He needed her to be safe, needed her head to be clear, and needed her to be running on a full tank of gas rather than fumes. He needed to take some of the stress away from her, but all he’d managed to do so far was add to it.

With his free hand, Leon gathered Rita’s left hand and ran his thumb back and forth over her ring. Sometimes, Leon regretted asking her to marry him. If he’d been satisfied with what they’d had, with the commitment they’d already made to one another, then she wouldn’t have the extra stress of planning what had turned into an extravaganza beyond anything he’d imagined. Granted, it didn’t take much to exceed his expectations because he’d never imagined anything beyond a dress, a tux, their families, and an exchange of vows and rings. It’d been shortsighted of him to not realize there was more to it.

“Seriously, though. If she’s so set on throwing things at you, why don’t we get her out here and involved? She likes feeling useful, doesn’t she? Put her to work.” He grinned and squeezed Rita’s fingers briefly. “She gets to be too much, we can send her back to your dad.”

 

[Poe]

“My mother?”

Rita laughed brightly, her head tilted back and the sound resonated in their little balcony. It was a warm sound, warm as the night breeze and her head gently thumped back against him to press a kiss to the crook of his neck before looking up at him. She knew it wasn’t really a joke. Leon didn’t ever really joke when it came to her well-being, as much as she brushed it away and under a rug to be dealt with later. His fingertips ran over her ring before he squeezed her hand affectionately, drawing a genuine smile from her lips. “She was born too much,” Rita joked, “She’d have my dad out here and us married before either of us could blink.”

It was all her mother wanted, really. She wanted to be useful, to be needed, and Rita had already pushed her away once. With Chase, his mother had gotten involved and Rita had spent all of her free time trying on designer gowns and touring ballrooms. Chase had given her free reign of everything and anything needed to be done for the big day. He would tell her over and over that his only job was to show up on the big day and marry the woman of his dreams. The irony of that statement was not lost on Rita, but this time felt different. She was invested so deeply in creating a wedding perfect for them – not to please Chase’s parents or her own, or to be the little rich kids they grew up as. Leon would have married her at the courthouse tomorrow if she asked, but she didn’t want to have to ask.

She wanted this moment for the two of them. A reprieve from everything and a moment to just exist. No work, no stress, just their friends and family celebrating them for once. A celebration. After all of this shit, after three years of picking up the pieces and rebuilding themselves, they deserved it. They deserved to drink and dance and be both merry and married.

“Maybe that’s not actually a terrible idea,” Rita finally admitted, “I have everything planned out to the day, meetings and tastings and fittings but I just can’t find the time to get everything done that I need to do. Her and Becca could probably manage to…look at you – getting me to actually consider choosing to invite my mother to New Orleans.”

“It might not be eloping in Vegas,” Rita teased, “but if she was here to help me get everything done, you wouldn’t have to wait another six months to have yourself a wife.”

 

[Acorn]

“Not actually a terrible idea,” he repeated scoffingly. Leon dipped the arm around her shoulder behind her back so he could dig his fingers into her ribs. “You act surprised. You’re not the only one that has ideas, you know.” He couldn’t guarantee inviting her mom out would be a good idea, but if there was only a snowball’s chance she could help, he was still willing to give it a shot. Even if it meant sharing space with a woman who’d made his life hell the first time they’d met. She’d been nice enough since then, always asking after him and his job, and making sure Rita told him hello for her. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad, and even if it was, Orvar had plenty of rooms to spare. He could always escape there if she got too annoying.

Not that Rita would ever forgive him for leaving her alone with Angela.

Almost as soon as he’d started tickling Rita, he stopped and shifted his arm back up and over her shoulder (before she considered throwing him off the love seat — a valid concern these days) and grinned at her then hugged her against his side.

He was mainly concerned about lessening Rita’s load when it came to wedding planning, and Angela along with Becca could work together to do that. He hadn’t considered they might be able to move the date up if they finished ahead of schedule, or that she’d even want to. Inadvertently, they’d found another way to take some stress from her — the sooner she walked down the aisle to him, the sooner she could separate him from what’d happened to Chase just a month before their wedding.

“I’d like that a lot. The sooner I can have a Mrs. Alvarez in my life, the better,” he said. “We need to get more use out of the guest room, anyway,” he added, bumping into her leg with his own. They’d set it up with furniture and tasteful decorations, but beyond the handful of times Nate and Becca had crashed there after drinking too much, it had gone unused. When was the last time they’d even had to change the sheets in there? Months, at least.

He sucked in a breath, but swallowed it and chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked out at the lightning bugs flickering their messages to each other. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something else, but there never seemed like a good time for it. And I—“ He looked down at Rita with knitted eyebrows, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to because I know how important charity work is, but what if you worked full time for the ah… the supernatural cause?” He licked his lips before he continued and pulled a pained expression. “Folks call or show up or need help and I’m the one they get instead of you, they get pissed. I’m not good with people, not like you. I’d rather be out tracking them. If you were with us full time, you could always be there to talk to them. ”

 

[Poe]

Rita wriggled against him as his fingers found the sensitive spot just below her ribcage. She was about to swat at him, but he knew too well by now and slipped his arm right back into place before she could react. A knowing smirk ghosted across her lips as she glanced up at him in the pale moonlight of that warm New Orleans night. “Well, the one good thing about my mother is that she’s a snob to the highest degree,” Rita admitted, “The kitchen could use a good deep cleaning and I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to handle that. She’s also really excited, I didn’t really let her touch the wedding last time. We weren’t exactly in a good place and considering I’m lucky enough to get a second chance at it, maybe I should share that with her.”

She sighed and shook her head, “She’s hell and a half to deal with, but she means well.”

Settling her head against his shoulder, Rita let herself exhale and relax a bit. It would be a good idea to bring her mother down before things got out of hand and she wasn’t too proud to admit she needed help. Rita Mason could do damn near anything she set her mind to, but the lack of sleep was killing her. Slowly she felt like she was losing her mind, only to regain it back for a few days of false security – then, again, it would be a fleeting entity. Even if she still couldn’t sleep, it would make a world of difference for her to be able to take some time to relax instead of running around like a madwoman. “I’ll call her tomorrow, then. I’d say let’s take bets on how long it takes her to get down here, but she’ll be on the next plane out. That kind of crazy never calms down.”

Leon’s words piqued her interest as he spoke suddenly of work. Her head tilted to the side, eyebrows raised as he made mention of their little work set up. It was still very much his business, but since Orvar had recruited Rita to working with the incoming supernaturals, it had sort of turned into a family affair. Even Becca stopped by once in a while to help Rita tidy up or file paperwork. Sometimes she could even help with tracking or assist Rita when talking to other young witches who cycled through the office. It was nice to be met with a familiar supernatural and a human who knew their secret. It had worked so well thus far and she would have been lying if she told Leon that she didn’t want to do it full time. It was so much more fulfilling and it reached out to that part of her that loved the adventure and the adrenaline.

There was more than one way to help someone, after all.

“You want me to quit my job and work full time for you and Orvar?”

She hummed and glanced out at the fireflies dancing in the night sky. The only thing that held her back was the realization that this meant giving up the one normal aspect of her existence. But as Rita got older and she fell more and more in love with Leon every day, she began to realize that normal wasn’t really “normal.” What she meant when she said normal was a human life. An average human life, but that wasn’t her reality. It wasn’t Leon’s reality, and the moment she kissed him in that hospital bed, she knew that she would never have the chance at a strictly human life ever again. But that was okay because it died with Chase, she grieved it, but now she was beginning to accept who she was.

She wasn’t normal or average, she never had been.

“They’re not pissed,” she teased knowingly, but a smile still found her lips, “They’re just scared, but I understand what you mean. I hate that I can’t be there all the time, or take time out of the day to go check in personally. They have so much happening and I’m sitting in luncheons and dressing up for galas.”

“If you don’t mind, I would love to – I just don’t want to step on any toes. I know this business was your baby and you worked so hard for it, I don’t wanna ruin that or get in the way. But if you’re sure, I would love to, honestly.”

 

[Acorn]

Leon waited for her response, finger repeatedly sliding across the band of her engagement ring and over the big green sapphire at its center, while he did his best to keep quiet and give her time to come to a decision on her own. He didn’t want her to feel pressured to sacrifice her career just because she felt obligated to him. He wanted it to be her choice. Besides, she’d been around enough to see how much he hated the paperwork, and how he was no better at completing or filing it than he’d been when she’d first met him. Just like she knew he was miserable when he was on the phone or rooted to one place for hours on end, be it in the office or on a stake out. And he definitely didn’t need to tell her how flustered he got when people didn’t react to him the way he needed them to.

He fought back the urge to fall to his knees in front of her and beg for her help, because Rita coming to work with them would solve most of his problems in one swoop. She’d be able to manage the paperwork and the people. He supposed he could look into hiring someone else, but even if it was possible to find someone as skilled as Rita was, they wouldn't have her history or experience with the supernatural.

She’d talked him through his first at-will transformation at the facility, saving him from being put down like a dog. She’d hardly known him but hadn’t hesitated to risk her life for him. Time and again, he’d watched her do the same for others, and all the people coming to them? They’d heard the stories. They trusted she’d do everything in her power to help them, and they weren’t wrong.

When she finally answered, his face immediately split into a grin and he squeezed her hand tightly. “If I don’t mind? Are you kidding? It was my baby when I was doing private investigations, but what we’re doing now? We need you Rita, you have to know that. These are whole families we’re helping a lot of the time, and I want to do it right. They deserve that, at least, after everything they’ve been through.”

It felt more like they were involved in some social service program than anything like what he’d done before. Instead of tracking a spouse suspected of cheating, staking out motels and taking pictures to be used in court, they sought out people and then found not only homes, but jobs for them so they could work to rebuild the lives they’d lost. It was good, honorable work, and would have a lasting impact on the people they helped. They could be satisfied with knowing they’d made a difference.

He relinquished her hand to tilt her face towards his so he could land a firm kiss on her lips.

“If you start tomorrow, I’ll give you Nate’s office.”

 

[Poe]

“Yeah? Nate’s entire office, huh?” Rita giggled as Leon crashed against her and their lips met. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck and pull him even closer to her. It was the only time her mind was silent nowadays. It was like a salve to a burn, the soothing way he managed to ease her back into a state of calm. He always talked about how she had saved him that day in the facility when she went in to soothe the beast he had become, but he had saved her every single day since. After the taser incident and at moments like this, it was hard to feel like anything was wrong. Whatever was tangled up in her mind, it couldn’t lose sight of Leon and the way his hands consumed her when they touched her.

When they parted, she fluttered her eyes open and glanced up at him through dark lashes with those big, green eyes of hers. “Really though, I don’t need an office. I don’t want one. I just want to be able to help any way that I can and I can’t do that if I’m trying to stretch myself this thin between our world and the human world. Charities hire PR reps all the time, but this is something I want – no, I need to do.”

“It started as a job, but it’s not that anymore,” Rita shrugged, “these people need help and they deserve all that we can give. I’ll put in my resignation tomorrow when I go in. Then, I’m all yours. But I do have one very, very strong point I need to make very clear to you.”

She looked Leon in the eye, all the seriousness she could muster in her face as her lips pursed. “If my mother comes down here to visit, we do not speak a word about the fact I quit my job. As far as she’s concerned, I’m still working at the charity and in public relations and I’m loving it, okay? That woman can smell a lie a million miles away, so you let me lie and the rest of you can just nod in agreement.”

“No supernatural being can outsmart the Angela Mason."

 

[Acorn]

His grin grew to impossible proportions when she said she’d not only submit her resignation, but she’d do it the very next day and it sounded like it’d be effective immediately. He’d joked about it, but the best he’d hoped for was that she’d come work with them full-time at some point in the future. Now it was happening sooner rather than later and he couldn’t be more elated. Starting tomorrow, he’d be able to hand over everything he sucked at to the most capable woman he knew, and they’d both be less stressed because of it. She didn’t want an office, though. Didn’t she need an office of her own with all the additional work she’d be doing and meetings she’d have?

He blinked and opened his mouth to ask, but she locked eyes with him and his mouth snapped shut and his eyebrows shot up. Rita normally looked at him with sweet smiles, smirks, and occasionally resignation when he delivered a particularly lame joke, not sternly. Especially not paired with instructions that were delivered in a way that reminded him of his abuela when he’d been a kid. There was nothing to do but to agree. He would’ve anyways — he knew he was a terrible liar, and despite the fact he’d stood up to her one of the last times they’d visited Rita’s family, her mother still had it in her to rattle him with a look. Would Rita ever look at a child with his curly mop of hair and her big, green eyes that way and get them to ramble off a long list of crimes they had committed? Unless they also got a healthy dosing of Rita’s steel spine, he could easily see it happening.

“Okay, yeah. I can do that. I can nod. Easy.” She was right. No supernatural being could outsmart her mother, but her daughter could. They just needed to play along.

And avoid eye contact.

He kissed Rita tenderly, then nudged his nose against hers.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said, an eyebrow quirking up along with one side of his mouth, “and see if I can’t help you get back to sleep.”

~*~​

They decided against taking bets and he was glad for it. He thought Rita’s prediction had been exaggerated, but there was no doubt in his mind that her mother had taken the first available plane out after she’d gotten off the phone with Rita. There was no way she would’ve been able to make it there six hours after the fact, otherwise. He was sent into a state of shock when she’d called to let them know she’d arrived in New Orleans, and it didn’t fade any as he ran to put on a nice button-up shirt and slacks, then spent more time in the bathroom than he usually did shaving then tending to his hair.

Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he knew from past experience that Angela cared about appearances, and the less she focused on him and his typical slobbishness, the more she could focus on what was important: helping Rita. Plus, it didn’t hurt to make a good impression. It was the first time she’d seen where they’d built their life, and he wanted Angela to know they’d done well, that Rita had done well — that it wasn’t a mistake for her to bring him into their family.

“Rita, she’s here!” he called out as a taxi pulled up. He’d been waiting for her, watching the street through one of the big bay windows in their living room.

Shit, she was there. No more than twenty-four hours after he’d first mentioned it to Rita, her mother was there.

Leon backed away from the window, eyes wide, and ducked into the foyer where he stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to quell the sudden flare of anxiety.

Had he just ran from his future mother-in-law to buy himself a second? Yes, yes he had.

 

[Poe]

Luckily, Leon had kept his promise to help her fall back asleep and Rita managed a few hours of genuine, restful sleep. When she woke early the next morning, she called her mother and sure enough like a bat out of hell the woman got on the next flight she could get and made it to New Orleans in under six hours. That was one thing about her mother that never changed – she loved too much, sometimes, but she was always there when she was needed. She needed to be needed. It was in her DNA.

“Coming!” Rita called out to Leon, moving quickly to finish up so he didn’t have to face her mother alone. In the last three years, Angela had grown to love Leon as a future son but the anxiety never really went away. They both wanted to impress her, to show her that they weren’t wrong for standing up to her because this was their happiness. They’d built this life together and it was about damn time she saw it. Rita brushed her hair back as it fell long over her shoulders and cascaded a bit down her back. It was the longest her hair had been since she met Leon, but she looked refreshed with it down and her face made up just enough to give her a warm glow. Her white, floral sundress and matching wedges were a far cry from the sweatpants and bare feet she walked around the house in, but she wanted to impress her mother and with all the training she’d done with Jason, a part of her wanted to show off her hard work.

It was also the most in shape she had ever been in her entire life, though her mother couldn’t know why outside of the generic “got a gym membership” excuse.

Rita made her way down the stairs with her hand on the railing and noted Leon standing in the foyer waiting for her. A smile found her lips as she stepped down and slipped her hand into his so she could tug him in for a kiss. Even wearing heels, she didn’t really have the height to reach him, so he always had to come down to her just a bit but she never once heard him complain. “It’ll be over before you know it,” Rita teased, “and just think, she’s going to be able to help us get married as soon as possible. Then I’ll be able to tell everyone – my parents, your abuela, all of our makeshift friends and family – just how much I love you.”

“And you’ll have yourself a Mrs. Alvarez. We could even get a mailbox, you know. Real domestic.”

Rita heard the taxi door open and pressed another kiss to Leon’s lips before tugging him towards the door. It was a warm, New Orleans afternoon and her mother showed up in style. Her long legs slipped out of the taxi one heel after another, clad in a designer business dress that accentuated her figure and her freshly highlighted hair lung in perfect ringlets over her shoulders. It seemed the further south she went, the more the belle in her came out. She was not just Angela Mason, mother and wife, she was Angela Mason – Miss North Carolina, debutante and planner extraordinaire. She had always told Rita to dress for the job she wanted, not the job she had, and it was very clear that Angela had come down here to do. She did not hesitate to allow the taxi driver to unload her luggage either which, if Rita didn’t know better, looked like she was staying for a lifetime not just a couple weeks.

She slipped off her sunglasses and perched them atop her head as her eyes went wide at the sight of the house. “Oh, Rita,” she breathed out, “It’s even more beautiful than the pictures! And, oh.”

She moved closer so she could grasp both of Rita’s hands in her own and give her a once over. “Look at you. I love what you’ve done with your hair, it just makes you look so beautiful and makes those green eyes of yours just pop. Aren’t I right, Leon?” She smiled over Rita’s shoulder with a smile before pulling up Rita’s hand to take a good look at the ring. “Breathtaking,” she stated simply, “Seems like you found yourself a man who pays attention, he’s certainly a keeper.”

“Yes, he is,” Rita smiled, “It’s good to see you, mom.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Angela smiled and wrapped her arms around Rita to pull her into a hug, “It’s wonderful to see you, baby girl.”

“And you,” she moved past Rita and gave Leon a once over. It wasn’t invasive, not nearly as much as it had been the first time they met, and the smile on her face was genuine. It had taken her three damn years, but it seemed that she had taken Rita’s advice all that time ago. It was possible to still love Chase and miss him, while also loving Leon. “How about a hug for your mother-in-law? Well, to-be mother-in-law. We’ll remedy that soon enough. It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

“But I swear, you get taller every time I see you Leon. These are darn near three inch heels and still you tower over me. My grandkids are going to have to look down at their Mimi, aren’t they?”

She pulled Leon into a warm, genuine hug. When she pulled back, she took one of Leon’s hands and one of Rita’s hands in her own and held onto them with all the gusto she could muster – which rivaled the brightness of the Louisiana sun. “Alright, alright enough with reintroductions,” she smiled, “I am here to make your lives easy. Whatever you need from me, I can handle. You two should be enjoying your engagement, not bogged down by silly little details. You leave that stress to mama, understood?”

Rita laughed, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good,” she squeezed their hands before placing them together, “Now, why don’t you give me the grand tour? I want to know all about this little gem. I always told your father. Frank, I’d tell him, I could live the rest of my life in New Orleans. But your father is a stubborn man, you know. He likes his roots. Can’t say I blame him, but as a younger woman I just fell in love with these homes. We used to come down here all the time when you were a girl, do you remember? Oh you used to love it. When Leon called and said he was proposing, I knew that you’d always find a home here.”

“It just reminds me of you Rita,” she smiled, “warm, colorful, with a bit of Louisiana kick.”

 

[Acorn]

A bit of kick? Leon waited until Angela wasn’t looking to shoot a smirk at Rita. If her mother had any idea what sort of kick Rita really had, she’d… well, he wasn’t sure what she’d do, but he could imagine there would be an intervention. Her baby girl going out and kicking Enforcers in the teeth? Unacceptable. Why wasn’t Leon doing a better job at protecting her? His expression grew fond as he linked his fingers with Rita’s. Never mind that she was often the one protecting him.

Almost as soon as he’d started walking with them towards the house, he realized the driver still stood awkwardly next to Angela’s mountain of luggage. He excused himself to pay them (tipping extra because he didn’t doubt Angela had been a Chatty Cathy on the way over), then started the process of hauling everything into the house, up the stairs, and to the guest room.

He could hear Angela talking animatedly and Rita’s more subdued tones even from upstairs, and when he finished putting away her luggage, he followed the sound of them down to the kitchen. Leon had wondered where Rita had gotten her ability to make and execute plans, but he’d figured it out quickly after he met her mother for the first time. Even now, he clearly remembered standing in the big kitchen of her parents’ beachfront house, wanting nothing more than to get out of the way of two of them as they prepared dinner. There was less activity this time, given that they’d already set up shop at the island counter with Rita’s laptop, but plans were being made.

The tour had been postponed, at least temporarily.

Leon stood in the doorway a moment, smiling and watching the two women. He was glad Angela had been able to come out — not just because she’d be able to help lower their stress levels, but because when Rita looked back at that moment, her mom would be there. Hopefully, she wouldn’t remember the moment she decided she’d rather throttle her mother than deal with her, though. Her trip wasn’t for long, however, and she’d be busy most of it, so he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

While they talked, Leon put out things for them to snack on and made drinks, but he didn't have much to contribute otherwise. He had strong opinions about a few things, like including some aspects of a traditional Mexican wedding on the big day, but he’d already made Rita aware of them. He trusted she’d remember (she had a list, after all) and fight to make sure they happened if she needed to, but when it came down to it, he didn’t think working in a Lazo rosary into the ceremony would be a big deal.

Everything else, from the color of the napkins to what the seating arrangements were, didn’t require his input. He’d be happy as long as everyone had a good time drinking, eating, and dancing into the wee hours of the morning, and maybe even beyond that if people rallied. Rita had sold him on it being a celebration for surviving everything they’d endured to be together, a celebration of them, and that would take more than a short reception.

Hours later, as the sun began to dip in the sky and the shadows grew, Angela finally got her tour. In the midst of all the gasps and exclamations, Leon's phone buzzed. Rita led her mother to the next room, but Leon remained behind frowning at a text message from Orvar.

Dinner at seven o’clock?

He pinched the bridge of his nose then ran his hand over his mouth. They usually jumped at the chance to eat at Orvar’s, because despite the vampire's inability to consume human food, he always made it a point to order them meals from the best caterers in New Orleans. He knew beyond a doubt Angela would enjoy seeing Orvar’s mansion and eating at his fancy dining table, but what about Orvar himself? How the hell would they even explain their relationship to the man?

Rita’s mother is invited as well. I won’t drink in front of her.

Leon scoffed a laugh and shook his head. It would never be any less absurd that a 600-year-old creature who feared sunlight and drank blood sometimes used winky faces when he texted.

He lowered his fingers tap out a polite refusal, but hesitated and chewed on the inside of his lip.

I’ll see what Rita says, he replied.

When in doubt, it was best to pass responsibility to someone else.

 

[Poe]

Rita was thankful for the invite from Orvar and did not hesitate to accept it. The easiest way to deal with her mother was in large groups because the woman was a natural people person. She thrived in that setting and when her focus wasn’t solely on Rita, she became a far less critical of everything around her. Not that Angela had been unpleasant, no. Actually, quite the contrary. She had shown up and done exactly what Rita needed her to do. She looked over Rita’s list, pulled out her own planner, recorded the important dates, calls, and meetings, and started sifting through what was left on the to-do list. She was ecstatic to find that Rita had not yet purchased her wedding dress and this time around her mother was insistent. Last time, Chase’s mother had been the one to help her pick it out, and while Angela gave it her seal of approval, she was excited for it to just be her, Rita and Becca.

Rita didn’t have the heart to say no, either.

She’d even made mention of having a dress made, if Rita was interested in such a thing. It seemed like a lot to pile on one after another, but Rita did not say no. Instead, she let her mother make her lists and rifle through her thoughts like an automatic weapon, until she was content that she had most everything planned out to the very letter. As much as Rita was exhausted by her mother, neither her nor Leon could ever say the woman wasn’t good at being productive. It was where Rita got it from after all and when Rita got overworked and exhausted, who better to call in than the master herself?

Her mother leapt at the idea of having supper with Orvar and their friends. She asked about Nate and Becca, pried into their lives about when they were thinking of getting married and if the hint of family was in the air. She had yet to meet Orvar though and as they pulled up to his immaculate house, her eyes went wide. “Dear lord almighty,” she breathed out as her heel clicked against the sidewalk, “This just may be the most beautiful house I have ever seen, Rita.”

“Orvar has good taste, mom,” Rita took Angela’s arm and led her towards the house. The sun had gone down and there was a hazy humidity that hung over New Orleans, but her mother had no idea that they were walking into the home of a six hundred plus year old vampire – and she hopefully never would. When they stepped in, another gasp could be heard and Rita couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. “Rita this—“

“I know, mom, I’ve seen your magazine cut-outs.”

“If I could—“

“You would,” Rita laughed, “I know it. Beautiful isn’t it? I’m sure Orvar will tell you all about it. He has a finesse when talking about this sort of thing. You remember that photograph I gave you of Leon and I?”

She nodded.

“Orvar took it.”

“Well, this Orvar has quite the eye for beauty then,” she breathed out, her hand still on her chest as if she were trying to push down her rapidly beating Southern belle heart. “How do you know him, again?”

Just as she spoke, she saw Orvar descending the stairs and could hear Becca and Nate in the sitting room heading towards the front door. “He’s an old friend. You remember the charity work that I do? He was basically the one to take me under his wing when we came to New Orleans. More like family than a friend, really.”

“Speak of the devil,” Rita teased with a smile, “Orvar, this is my mother, Angela. Mom, this is Orvar.”

 

[Acorn]

“Angela,” Orvar said as he reached the bottom of the stairs and approached her with a gracious smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He was clad in an immaculate dark gray suit, its sharp lines and tailored fit reeking of money in the same way the mansion did. Leon had grown used to the extravagance, but Angela’s reaction to it had reminded him that they were in a multi-million dollar home stuffed with antiques from the Antebellum Period.

When he’d first visited Orvar’s place and been invited into his sitting room, he’d been terrified to sit down because he’d convinced himself if he even got a smudge on the cream-colored furniture, he’d be forced to pay to replace it. Over the past three years, Leon had learned that wasn’t the vampire’s style. Orvar would pay for it himself, but then the next time you visited, he’d sniff and insist you take your shoes off before coming inside, because he no longer trusted you to be civilized enough to judge whether they were dirty or not.

Not that Leon had experienced that himself.

After Becca and Nate entered the foyer and hugs were exchanged, Orvar held his arm out to Angela. The vampire murmured something to her that Leon couldn’t quite pick up, even with his supernatural hearing, and Angela beamed at him before accepting his arm. He led them all to the dining room, where there was a long table with upwards of twenty chairs surrounding it. Leon had dubbed it the big-ass table.

At one end there were glasses and several wine bottles, and a little farther from that, a multitude of plates with various hors d'oeuvres. Wine was poured and distributed by Orvar, despite the handful of servers that stood at discrete locations around the room. He'd handed the first to Angela, mentioning it was because she was the guest of honor (Leon had never seen anyone swoon before, but he was pretty sure that's what Angela did in response), then down the line, until it was only Becca and Nate without glasses. Red wine glug-glugged its way into a glass and when it was a quarter filled, Orvar lifted the bottle and passed the glass to Becca.

Becca, only half turning from the whispered conversation she was having with Nate, reached for her wine but missed. Orvar had already turned back to the table to get another glass, so he didn't see when it slid through her fingers and fell halfway to the ground before Becca waggled her fingers and the glass froze.

She looked pleased with herself as she leaned over to pluck it from midair. When she straightened again, she met Leon's wide-eyed stare with a shake of her head.

“What?” she laughed.

Then realization seemed to dawn and she too became wide-eyed and froze.

 

[Poe]

Orvar certainly had pulled out all the stops for her mother’s arrival. Angela was eating it all up, too. Rita watched as her already perfect posture straightened even further and hands delicately folded over one another. This was her element and Rita was glad to see how comfortable she was already down here. After all, Orvar was family, just like Becca and Nate. It meant the world to Rita to have them all in one place, especially when it felt impossible sometimes because of the divide between their worlds but here they all were. Her mother was smiling, everyone was, and Rita graciously accepted a glass of wine in celebration.

Maybe it wasn’t a terrible idea to bring Angela all this way to help. Rita already felt more relaxed, more—

Rita noticed the glass fall mid-thought and watched as Becca wiggled her fingers and it abruptly stopped, levitating with ease. Angela’s head turned just as it was happening and Rita felt her heart leap into her throat. This could not be the moment her mother found out about supernaturals. This couldn’t be the start to her visit, it just couldn’t. “Mom?” Rita spoke evenly, calling her attention and her mother immediately turned back to glance at Rita with a smile.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I was thinking of getting my hair cut before the wedding and…”

“Rita Marie Mason, you watch your mouth,” Angela gasped as she stepped towards her daughter and gathered the ends of Rita’s long, dark locks in her fingertips. Her attention was entirely stolen by Rita, leaving Becca to grab her wine glass and exchange looks with everyone in the room. Leon, next to Rita, looked like his eyes were about to damn near fall out of his head. “The lord saw fit to give you beautiful hair, I have no idea why on earth you could cut it. There are some women out there who would dream of having a head of hair like yours, you know.”

“If you think it looks better, I’ll leave it,” Rita laughed, “It was just a thought.”

“Sometimes, my sweet girl, you think too much. Leave it all to mama, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Angela smiled and took a sip of her wine before addressing Orvar, “She’s always been that way, I’m sure you’ve noticed. My Rita is every mother’s dream but poor thing gets too caught up in her own head sometimes. Headstrong, too. Takes after her father a bit, I’m afraid.”

“I’m right here, you know…”

“You should have seen her when she was a girl. Oh, she was just the most adventurous little thing. Her father and I used to have to chase her up and down the Carolina coast. She ran track in school, not sure if she told you. My husband was the coach and we knew before she could walk that she would be fast. She used to keep her hair short for competitions and it just darn near broke my heart. If it wasn’t sports, it was clubs at school, if it wasn’t clubs, it was work. My Rita does it all.”

Rita shook her head with a laugh, “Mom, I think everyone here is sick of hearing stories about me.”

“Oh nonsense!” Angela exclaimed, “How often does a mother get to brag about her daughter?”

“Pretty often, it would seem,” Rita took a sip of her wine.

“Was Rita trouble in school?” Nate spoke up, fueling the conversation and Rita shot him a death glare. “Any time in the principals office? Any fights?”

“She was a model student all through school. Graduated first in her class and received a full scholarship to college. So no, no trouble at all. And fights? Heavens no. My Rita fighting? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Rita nearly choked on her wine and brought her hand up to her mouth as a few coughs rippled through her. Her mother turned back to her and placed a hand on her arm, “Sweetheart are you alright?”

“Mhm,” Rita nodded, the coughs coming in waves.

“Anyhow, it is a pleasure to be in your home, Orvar,” Angela smiled and turned back to the group, “It warms a mother’s heart to be able to meet the people who made a home for my baby. An immaculate, breathtaking home, but thank you for taking her in. You’ve made quite the family here, Rita.”

 

[Acorn]

Leon frowned and rubbed Rita’s back as she dealt with wine going down the wrong pipe. As the space between coughs lengthened and Angela turned from them, he went from watching her with a concerned expression to glaring at Becca and Nate respectively. Becca had turned a shade of red not much different than the color of her hair and looked away from him, but Nate, the little shit, smirked at him. The muscles in Leon’s jaw flared as he continued staring at the other werewolf.

“She’s been well worth the investment,” Orvar said, smiling fondly at Rita before he stepped forward and held his arm out again to Angela. “Would you be interested in a tour of the house and grounds before dinner?”

Angela accepted his arm gracefully, and after Orvar paused to instruct the servers to clear the table of appetizers and ready it for dinner, he led her away. He didn't wait to launch into giving her a history of the home, mentioning it’d been built exactly one hundred and fifty-three years ago — shortly after the Civil War. The vampire hadn’t reacted to anything that’d happened, but he’d clearly picked up on the fact they needed a moment without Angela and acted immediately.

“What is wrong with you two?” Leon said as soon as he couldn’t hear Orvar’s accented baritone anymore and the last server had stepped away. “We talked about this. She can’t know anything about anything and you’re doing magic,” he stabbed a finger Becca’s direction, then Nate’s, “and you. Any fights? Really? Why don’t you just go ahead and tell her that her daughter is combat trained and why? Get it over with. I’m sure her reaction will be hilarious.”

He scoffed and lifted his wine glass to drain it.

“I didn’t mean to,” Becca said, voice low and apologetic but with an edge of sullenness. “She didn’t see, though, right?”

“Only because Rita distracted her,” Leon retorted. He shook his head and made a small sound of frustration before he turned to the table to grab a wine bottle by its neck and refilled his glass. He took another sip, sucked in a deep breath and released it in a slow, steady stream. Calm. He needed to remain calm. Becca was right. Angela was still in the dark. Rita, without even blinking, had averted the crisis. Just like she always did. He settled the bottle back onto the table and returned to Rita’s side.

“Let’s just… Try and be more careful, okay? This isn’t some game. Please take it seriously.”

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Becca said, “won’t happen again.” She nudged Nate with her elbow. “Right?”

 

[Poe]

“Listen,” Rita shook her head, “It is my lie, I know that. You shouldn’t have to do all of this, but I really do appreciate that you’re all trying. With the wedding and everything, it’s just difficult to juggle it all. I’m sorry that you have to do this in the first place, but my mother is an unforgiving woman. The last thing I want is to lose her, too. Especially now.”

“You saw her the last time we visited her,” Rita laughed, her green eyes bright, “She is something else.”

At the sound of her words, Rita watched as Nate’s smirk and Becca’s sullenness softened out into a bit of a guilty understanding. “I was just playing,” Nate said finally and scratched his head, “Sorry, yeah. Won’t happen again.”

Just as the two nodded in agreement, Rita turned and pressed a kiss to Leon’s cheek and then found his lips. There was the slightest smirk on her face as Nate and Becca fell back into hushed conversation. “Wondered if my mother’s guilt tactic was genetic,” Rita whispered secretly, “Looks like it is.”

The rest of dinner went wonderfully and after very little magical interference, they all found themselves having a drink in the sitting room just chatting together about life in New Orleans, plans, jobs, everything they could possibly manage to discuss. It wasn’t until Rita’s mom pulled out her phone and started tapping away with her long, well-manicured finger did she catch Rita’s attention again. “So I’ve run some of the numbers for the wedding, called some of the vendors earlier with Rita,” she hummed to herself, eyes never coming up from the phone, “And if we put down the deposit on the venue this weekend, we could have the two of you married in – well, how does two months sound?”

“Two months?” Rita asked with her eyes wide.

“Yes, the only thing that would concern me is your dress and making sure invitations are out as soon as possible. Since your list is mostly family, my only concern about that is getting your grandmother here, Leon, but even if she did not want to fly, there is time to bring her up here. As for a dress, I have a woman I know over in Baton Rouge who would make you a dress in plenty of time. Customized, if that was something you were looking for. And you wanted a wedding in the evening, yes?”

“Yes, that’s non-negotiable,” Rita nodded, “There is no way I am getting married outdoors in the daytime New Orleans heat.”

Also vampires, and while everyone in the room understood Rita’s comment, her mother did not need to know that.

“Last thing – I think I found a pastor that can accommodate your rosary, Leon.”

“Wait,” Nate rose an eyebrow, “You’re religious? Am I going to have to sit through church?” His eyes went wide as he looked at Orvar, “Won’t he...we burn in a…the New Orleans heat?”

 

[Acorn]

Two months. Leon’s eyes grew as wide as Rita’s and his lips parted slightly in disbelief. Two months and they’d be married. Sixty days, give or take, and she’d walk down the aisle to him and they’d say their vows and it’d be done. They’d be husband and wife. She could stop worrying about him, then, maybe start getting some restful sleep. He slipped his fingers through Rita’s and squeezed gently as he smiled at her.

When his grandmother was mentioned, he shifted his gaze from Rita to blink at Angela, and had taken a breath to let her know his abuela was fearless and smart, and even though she’d never been in an airport before, much less on a plane, he knew she’d figure it out if it meant making it to his wedding without inconveniencing him. The moment he might’ve said something about it passed, though, because when Angela was on a roll, she didn’t leave much space for those slow to speak. He’d never really had a chance. Then she went on to refer to the Lazo rosary, addressing him directly and pausing — a chance, finally, for him to speak, but Nate jumped in with his questions.

Leon sighed and settled back on the love seat he shared with Rita, defeat plain on his face, when Orvar answered before he could.

“With the wedding happening at night, those of us with fair complexions won’t burn,” Orvar said, his face absent any expression except for the slight lifting of an eyebrow. “I’ve always been quite fond of Catholic ceremonies.” The vampire smiled, then looked directly at Leon. “I’ve never witnessed one with Mexican influences, though. I’m curious to see how that’ll look.”

All the eyes in the room followed Orvar’s to him and Leon squirmed in his chair. “Beats me,” he shrugged, “I just remember eating so many of those puffy white cookies that I’d get sick. And the rosary. I remember that. It’s just two rosaries tied together, and half goes on the groom, and the other on the bride.”

“Hmm, the combined rosary symbolize unity, I presume?” Orvar asked.

Leon shrugged again, “Yeah, then it gets split apart and the mothers of the couple get half each. Supposed to use it to pray for them.”

“That’s so beautiful,” Becca slurred. When Leon fully turned his attention to her, he took in the sloppy tilt of her grin and the way her eyes kept sliding away from him, and suddenly recalled that she’d refilled her wine glass way more than the rest of them had.

“So beautiful,” she repeated, “just like you two. It’s perfect.”

“Thanks, Becca,” Leon said hesitantly.

“You’re welcome!” She giggled and took a sip from her wine glass, then held it out and pouted because it was empty. “Damn,” she muttered, then stood to make her wobbly way towards the closest wine bottle.

At least she hadn’t used magic to pull it to her.

“After everything, it should be perfect. You two deserve perfect,” she continued, oblivious to Leon’s stricken expression.

 

[Poe]

“Oh, after everything,” Angela sighed and put her hand on her chest, just above her heart as though she were trying to hold back the floodgates, “I certainly think we all deserve a perfect evening, but certainly you two.”

God, there she went.

Angela was a constant source of sympathy and grief. It was the way of southern mothers. They loved fiercely and grieved even fiercer, to the point where funerals were more of a place to compare grief than a place to remember the departed. The last time Rita had gone to visit her parents, they had hashed it all out in a fight where her mother made it very clear that her loss of a son was far more painful than Rita’s loss of a lover and best friend. Since then, they had moved past it but Rita also knew that her mother was never going to give up. That moment in time was a great source for pity, a story that made her seem strong and weathered by time but steady all the while. She loved telling the story, now that they survived it.

“Mom—“

“I’m sorry, Rita, as a mother it’s just so heartbreaking and so wonderful at the same time. It feels like just yesterday you called us and we had to come up to the city to see you and figure out affairs. Terrible thing, really, I’m not sure if Rita told you but Chase was killed in a subway accident. There wasn’t anything for us to bury, so the funeral was less than cathartic. You understand, of course.” She gestured to Orvar who was what she considered to be the only other older adult in the room, sitting immediately to her left, but her voice addressed the whole group of them as though Becca wasn’t drunk and Rita wasn’t beyond mortified.

“And I was so awful when Leon came to visit that first time, lord was I still hurting,” she admitted and smiled, “but Leon has proved to be exactly the type of man my Rita Marie needs. I just can’t help but think sometimes about how we all got here. Life has a funny way, my mother always said, a funny way of dragging you through the paths of life. Never thought my Rita would love another man. But the lord has seen fit to bring you two together, and I could not be happier.”

There was a moment of silence as they all processed exactly the depth of Angela’s comments. Rita let out a deep exhale and closed her eyes, letting it settle her nerves in her chest. All day, she had managed to fight off the nightmares and make it through, but there it was in the forefront of her mind again. Leon, Chase, the wedding. All of it. She squeezed Leon’s hand and cleared her throat, “Me either,” she said finally, “I’m a pretty lucky woman.”

“If you ask me, he’s the lucky one,” Nate joked as he reached to wrangle drunk, emotional and “so beautiful” Becca, “but we should probably head out. I’m gonna take this one home before she drinks you out of house and home, Orvar.”

“Will not!” Becca exclaimed.

“It’s always good to see you Mrs. Mason.”

“Oh please, Nathan,” Rita’s mother gasped, “It’s Angela. Call me Angela.”

 

[Acorn]

“Nathan? Who’s Nathan?” Becca strained against and slipped out of Nate’s hold to spin back around and look suspiciously around the room, as if this Nathan person might jump out from behind one piece of furniture or another. When Nate caught up with her again, she gaped at him. “Oh, she was talking to you.” Nate scoffed a laugh and resumed his task of steering her from the sitting room.

Just before she was out of sight, Becca craned her head around to announce in a stage whisper to Angela, “His name is Nate, not Nathan. He doesn’t like Nathan, it’s what his moth—” She broke off and faced Nate again as he pulled her around the corner.

“What? I was just saying. God, I’m sorry.”

Then the front door opened, closed, and their voices became muffled.

“I think we should call it a night, too,” Leon said in subdued tones, and looked sidelong at Rita.

He’d imagined a dozen different scenarios and a hundred different ways the night could’ve gone wrong, but he hadn’t considered Becca would get drunk. He probably should’ve, though. The setup had been perfect: There was wine, and Becca was new enough to drinking that she didn’t know her limits. When she drank, she drank. There’d been more than one night she’d stumbled out of their house, or that both she and Nate had overindulged and they’d ended up staying in the guest room. The problem wasn’t that she was obnoxious when she drank (she was more loving than anything, though it did wear eventually), it was that she lost all concept of when to shut her mouth.

And it’d given Angela the opportunity to bring up the very things they’d been so careful to avoid.

“Very well,” Orvar said, ever the gracious host as he stood and held his hand out to his guest of honor to aid her in standing. “I’m glad to have met you, Angela, and to have gained a better understanding of the obstacles Rita has overcome.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes until he looked past Angela to Leon and Rita. “I”ll see you out.”

The car ride home was quiet, except for Angela’s excited chattering, and the periodic murmurs of agreement or acknowledgment on his and Rita’s part.

All he could think of, and all that he could hope, was that enduring Angela would be worth it in the end.

~*~​

Two months later — sixty days, give or take — he stood in front of a full-length mirror adjusting his tie. With a grunt of frustration, he undid the knot and jerked the silken fabric from his neck and clutched it tightly in his hand. Normally, he’d have Rita help him make sure it was done up properly, but there was some stupid rule about not being able to see her before the wedding. He was going to get married with a crooked tie, wasn’t he? All the pictures, it’d be tilted slightly to the left and he’d feel the same burn of humiliation that he was almost thirty years old and couldn’t even manage to tie a goddamned tie.

“Oh, look at you,” a woman’s voice said from behind him, and he didn’t have to turn to know who it was (mainly because he could see her in the reflection of the mirror, but also because she sounded exactly like his grandma), “so handsome.” She came forward, her wrinkled face crumpling further with every step she took. She smoothed her hands over the lapels of his jacket after he faced her and when she looked up at him, her dark brown eyes, so much like his, brimmed with tears.

Leon smiled and hugged her, holding her tight and close until she started making noise about crying on and ruining his suit before the wedding.

“Tch,” she said, clicking the sound with her tongue against the roof of her mouth after he released her. “Are you excited?”

“Feel like I’m going to puke,” he replied, “so… yeah?”

Maria laughed throatily and swatted at his arm before she settled back and eyed the tie in his hand, then examined his face as he grimaced and looked away from her.

“Some things never change, hm?” She held her hand out and laughed again when Leon sighed and placed the length of tie in her waiting palm.

She went to work tying and then straightening his tie, humming all the while. When she finished, she placed both hands on his shoulders, then patted them firmly.

“I have a gift for you,” she said, then her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Immediately, Leon cocked his head to the side with a furrowed brow. It wasn’t like his grandma to be nervous about anything, but there she was — nervous.

“You can come in now,” she said over her shoulder, then took a step away from him and inhaled sharply as she clasped her hands in front of her. She was anticipating something, but what?

An older woman maybe in her forties, olive-skinned and dark haired, with wide, brown eyes, stepped into the doorway of his dressing room, then froze there and stared at him. 

He stared back, confusion growing when his grandmother stepped between them and made a beckoning gesture at the woman, then reached out to clasp Leon’s elbow.

“Tu madre,” she said, and looked up at him.

He glanced at his grandma, then back at the woman. The only picture he had of his mother had been taken on the day of her quinceañera. She’d been wearing a puffy pink dress with her dark hair all done up in ringlets and piled atop her head, and had been pretty but for her sour expression. He knew his mother as she had been then, face still full and childlike — a little girl just turned fifteen — nothing like the grown woman who stood hesitantly in front of him. Her cheekbones were high, her jaw square, and her lips full. She was beautiful.

“My mom?”

The woman nodded, slowly at first, then Leon grinned at her and she nodded more rapidly.

“Yes. I wanted— I meant to… ”

Leon shook his head, his eyes bright, and stopped her from stumbling over her words when he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug.

“I thought you’d be angry with me,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He laughed. “Don’t think I wasn’t. I was pissed at you when I was a kid.”

She lifted her head and pulled back enough to look at him with a disbelieving smile. “You’re not anymore?”

“No. You were fifteen. I wouldn’t have wanted to raise me at fifteen, either.”

There was a hiccup of a breath, then she buried her face in his chest and began crying.

 

[Poe]

“Rita Marie Mason, I swear if you do not stop moving—“

“Only Mason for a few more minutes!” Becca exclaimed, punctuating Angela’s less than ladylike response to Rita’s fidgeting, “Then you’ll have to call her Rita Marie Alvarez.”

“And you’ll have to learn some dark magic, because the only way any of us will be calling her if she doesn’t stop is through a dang séance!”

Becca nearly shot champagne out her nose at the comment, but Rita couldn’t help but laugh at the antics. She’d been a mess the last few days in preparation but she had convinced herself earlier that morning that everything was going to be fine. The wedding was planned, the guests arriving, and the sun was setting on their day to give way to their wedding. If something were to go wrong, it was entirely out of her control, and Rita realized she had to just let it happen. Her mother was a hawk and would see to it that everything happened exactly as planned and she believed in the power of Angela and Becca to see to it that nothing set on fire or was destroyed in some unforeseen disaster.

“Are you eating in your wedding dress?” Angela exclaimed as she heard Rita chewing and eyed her through the mirror.

“Wha—“ Rita swallowed the piece of strawberry she’d been snacking on and shrugged, “Mom, I haven’t eaten anything this morning. I can’t pass out on Leon before I get to the end of the aisle, now can I? And technically only half of it is on.”

“Do you not remember the presentation you had to do in sixth grade for science class?”

“Oh my god,” Rita rolled her eyes, “I was eleven and I am not going to throw up on him because I’m nervous.”

“Let’s get you into this dress before we have a crime scene on our hands instead of a wedding,” Becca interrupted with a bright smile as she set down her champagne and moved to help Angela with wiggling Rita into her gown. It was a beautifully unique number, one that Rita had worked with her mother and a seamstress to create. When she had been engaged to Chase, her dress had been high fashioned, sleek and expensive – the kind of dress his mother always expected her in. In the mess of it all, Angela had thought to offer her own wedding dress, a little lace number, to help make Rita’s dress as something borrowed. Cinched at the waist, it fell beautifully with a bit of beading until it hugged every curve and fell into a train. Not cathedral length like her old dress, but just enough to give that wedding silhouette. Both women pulled the dress together and fastened it on her before her mother reached up and unpinned her curls and let them fall in a cascade of beauty around her made-up face.

And when Rita looked up at herself, everything hit at once.

“Rita,” her mother breathed out and she heard Becca gasp at the sight. All Rita could see was the three of them in the mirror and a version of herself looking back from the reflection that didn’t seem possible near four years ago. After Chase had passed, she had tried on her wedding dress again and sat in it for hours, claiming that she would never ever fall in love again. She was so broken back then, even after she had met Leon it took months for him to pierce through her hardened shell. Tears welled up in her eyes at the reality of what was happening.

She had given up on life, on living any semblance of a real life, and then Leon came and changed everything.

“Hey, hey,” Angela came up alongside her and dabbed at a single tear that fell from Rita’s eyes and Rita let out a laugh. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I just can’t believe—“

“Me either, baby girl,” Angela squeezed her hand, “Now what do you say we stop waiting for your Prince Charming to come and go find him ourselves.”


The venue they had managed to book was a brilliant and beautiful old New Orleans style home with nearly an acre of land behind it. Immediately from the backyard, there was a path through the garden into a beautiful ceremony area with lights hanging from the weeping willows and fireflies flickering about. From the room she’d readied in, she could see people filing in and filling the seats. The reception was to be held off to the left of the back exit where string lights were hung, a dance floor was place and bar. There were beautiful white tables and chairs set up with floral centerpieces.

When Rita first saw her father, she was exiting the house and he’d caught her eye unexpectedly. Never had she seen her father’s face turn red, but he choked back some tears and cleared his throat a few times. “Wow,” he said finally, “You look…uh…”

“Thanks, Dad,” Rita smiled and pulled him into a hug.

“Anytime, Rita,” he breathed out and straightened his jacket. His arm extended for her and Rita took it with just the slightest laugh. It all felt surreal. It was finally happening. Rita could hear the music start – her mother had hired a renowned violin quartet to play the ceremony. As the instruments played on, Frank walked his daughter up to the point they needed to wait before her entrance was played. “I love you, Rita,” he said abruptly, “I really do.”

“I know, Dad,” she smiled, “I’ve always known.”

Just as her entrance played, Rita could hear from behind the garden flowers the sound of everyone standing. Her mother and Becca had already made their way down the aisle, Nate and Leon were awaiting at the end, and her heart fluttered in her chest. “You nervous?”

“Yeah, you?” she turned to him.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “You sure there isn’t time for a beer?”

They stepped forward together, Frank taking the lead as Rita held onto him with on hand and the other held her bouquet. When they finally came into view, Rita forced herself to look up from her flowers and immediately her eyes went beyond all the gasping, teary eyed people, to find Leon there at the end of the aisle. Her heart skipped a beat and a smile she only saved for him brightened across her face. In that moment, she didn’t feel like she was walking down the aisle.

She felt like she was walking home, and she couldn’t wait to spend forever there.

 

[Acorn]

They’d had a rehearsal. He knew when to walk out, where to stand, and where to face, but they hadn’t said anything about what to do with his hands. Leon hooked his thumbs into his pants pockets, but that pushed the flaps of his suit jacket out. It was even worse when he shoved the entirety of his hands in. He sighed, pulled his hands from his pockets, and cracked his fingers one by one, then clenched his hands into fists and knocked them against his thighs. He only paused when Nate, standing just behind and to his side, cleared his throat.

“Like this,” he whispered after Leon turned, and drew his attention down to where he had his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Oh,” Leon said, and mimicked the positioning.

“Man, it’s almost like you’ve never been married before or something,” Nate muttered, and Leon rolled his eyes but was smiling when he faced the crowd again.

His grandmother sat in the front row on his side of the two divided sections, right next to his mother. His mom. God, she was really there, wasn’t she? Right there. The first and last time she’d seen him he’d been an infant, and now she was waiting to see him get married. Claudia had her hands in her lap, clasping at either wrist, but as he watched her, she reached up to tug at one golden hoop dangling from her ear, pushed a section of her long hair over her shoulder, then went back to fidgeting with her fingers and began picking at her nails.

He laughed when his abuela smiled, reached over to take one of her hands, and held it. His grandmother had gone just as long without seeing his mother as he had — twenty-eight years — but they’d slipped back into old habits quickly. Hell, his grandma had spent no less than five minutes chiding his mother because when she’d been crying, she’d smudged her mascara on his suit. While she cleaned it off, of course.

When the violins began to play, Leon finally looked away from them and realized the seat next to Angela, where Frank would sit after he walked Rita down the aisle and gave her away, was the only one not filled. His mouth became a thin line and his heart thudded heavily in his chest as he stared at the point Rita was supposed to emerge from. What if the reason they made the future bride and groom get ready separately was so that when the bride got cold feet, she’d be able to leave without seeing the chaos she left in her wake? What if she’d changed her mind? He hadn’t been able to see her all day, what if she’d decided against being legally bound to him for the rest of her life?

The music shifted seamlessly from one song to the next — Rita’s song. Everyone stood and his heart stopped when she appeared.

One moment, Rita walked down the aisle to him, a vision of lace and dark curly hair, and in the next, her hands were in his and everything else faded away except for her and her big, green eyes.

He would’ve remained like that, struck dumb, if not for a hand that appeared at his elbow and guided him, and in turn, Rita, to their spots facing each other. Then the pastor spoke at length of why they were gathered there that evening, of the love they shared, and the commitment they were making to one another. The things he said were wonderful and true, but the only reason Leon knew that was because he’d read the script before they’d given it to the pastor. He sure as hell couldn’t hear anything now. All he could do was grin stupidly at Rita and be amazed. The very woman he’d convinced himself wasn’t for the likes of him when they’d first met was standing in front of him, their hands joined like their lives soon would be.

Leon ran his thumbs over the soft backs of her hands, still wearing his grin. Every time it’d started to fade, he’d remember something else about her — the way her eyes would light up when she saw him, how she always seemed to know exactly what to say no matter the situation, all the times she stood by his side and fought for him when anyone else in their right mind would’ve given up — and the grin would return. He already loved her more than he’d thought it was possible to love a person, but every day that went by with her in his life, he loved her more. Everything, all the shit, all the pain, all the trials and tribulations, had only served to bring them closer together, to—

“Leon?”

He blinked at the pastor, a gray-haired man with glasses and an amused expression.

“Huh?” said Leon, triggering a cascade of laughter from the crowd.

“Are you prepared to take your vows now?”

“My vows?” More laughter and Leon ducked his head, causing several curls to slide onto his forehead. His vows. Oh, Jesus Christ. His shoulders began shaking as he chuckled, and when he lifted his head again, he met Rita’s gaze and smiled crookedly.

“Yeah, I reckon I am.”

“Good, that’s why we’re here,” the pastor laughed. “Repeat after me.”

And Leon did.

 

[Poe]

It was a place she never thought she would be.

It had seemed like an unattainable thing – marriage – but she had prepared now twice for it and it made no difference. The moment she was there and saw Leon’s gaze, everything else around them faded and she was left standing alongside the most handsome, loving man she had ever known. Deep in her heart, she knew in that moment that everything they had been through was for this moment. She had to lose and lose and lose everything before she could be in a place to love and be loved by Leon. All the pain, the long nights of wondering about the purpose of her existence, all the plans that had abruptly been ripped from her small hands were now being handed back to her bit by bit. Leon was different from Chase, sure, but she felt Chase there in her heart for the first time in years.

He was there with her and he was happy. She genuinely believed that.

The ceremony rushed by in the blink of an eye, but Rita could not pay it any mind. The words were not for them, they were for their friends and family, because nothing needed to be said between Rita and Leon anymore. They knew the depth of their love and no word seemed to encompass it – but that crooked smile on his face and the brightness of his eyes spoke far beyond words. Rita couldn’t help but laugh brightly at his fumble and she squeezed his hands lovingly in reassurance. Not just as his fiancé, but as his soon-to-be wife, as the woman he chose to spend the rest of his life with.

And he kept choosing her, over and over again.

“Until death do you part?” the pastor said, this time to Rita as it was her turn to recite the vows and Rita smiled at the word choice.

“Far beyond that,” Rita said and she heard her mother hiccup with a sob. Rita had seen death, she’d felt it, and even then she knew that love didn’t fade. It was a constant, a north star, and Leon was everything to her. The sun, the moon and all of the stars in her sky. “But yes,” she smiled at the pastor, knowing she had to agree for the ceremony to be valid, “I do.”

“Then by the power invested in me by the great state of Lousiana, I am happy to finally pronounce you man and wife,” the Pastor smiled, “Leon, you may kiss your bride.”

But it was Rita that moved first, reaching up to cup his face gently but pull him into a deep, certainly a bit inappropriate for church, kiss and felt tears welling up in her eyes. But there was so much relief in her body that for once Rita felt light. There was nothing to weigh her down, or pull her back, she had made it to the future she never thought she would have and she was now Leon’s wife. He was her husband. A roar of applause echoed through the crowd and Rita could hear Becca sniffling behind her.

“I love you,” Rita whispered against his lips and looked up at him with those green eyes and a smile on her lips, “husband.”