Rocked by Love (Gargoyles, #4)(67)

“Bubbeh, please. What if I promise I’ll come for Shavuot instead? I know it’s not Passover, but we can light the candles together and—”

“Is it this man of yours? He doesn’t want to come with you? He doesn’t want you to go? Because I thought I already made up my mind to like him, but it hasn’t been very long. I can change it.”

“No. No, it’s not that. It’s just—”

Dag hated hearing her struggling for words that would pacify her grandmother’s fierce curiosity and determined persuasion without giving away the secrets she had so recently become privy to. Part of him wanted to race in and show the woman what was at stake if he and Kylie should fail to thwart the plans of the Order, but he knew his duty too well.

He also knew Kylie tended to get testy with him when she thought he was being overprotective, or behaving as if she could not take care of herself.

There was a stretch of silence before he heard Kylie shift in her chair and sigh. “Bubbeh, I can only apologize for not visiting you for Passover. Believe me when I tell you it’s not what I want either, but you raised me to keep to my principles and to always remember my duty to my fellow man. I can’t tell you exactly why I can’t come, because it’s a story that isn’t all mine to tell. But I can tell you that someone will be in danger that weekend, and they’ll need my help to keep them safe.”

Another brief silence. When it finally ended, he expected the same kind of insistent demand for answers he had come to expect from Kylie. The same trait that he had begun to suspect she had inherited directly from Esther.

Instead, the old woman said, “Is this going to put you in danger yourself?”

“I don’t know. But I can tell you that I’ll have friends looking out for me. Dag will be there. So will my old friend Wynn. You remember her. Bran’s sister? She’ll be there with her fiancé and maybe others. But this is too important to leave to just them. I need to be here, and I need to help.”

Esther harrumphed. “Well, I probably don’t have to tell you that I don’t like this.”

“No, bubbeh, you don’t.”

“But you’re right. I did raise you to know what is right and to do what is right when you’re the only one who can. We should all be loving and kind to each other.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do. Thank you for understanding.”

“But I still don’t like it!”

“I know, bubbeh. I’ll come for Shavuot. I promise.”

Dag heard movement and the rustling of fabric and the soft sound of patting hands and knew the women shared an embrace. Relief washed through him.

“Yes, you will come,” Esther said, her voice slightly muffled by the hug. “And bring your boy. I’ll make blintzes.”

Kylie chuckled. “We’ll see, bubbeh.”

“Now, since I’m already here, and there’s no way I’m getting back on that farkakta train tonight,” Esther said, her voice coming clearer as she pulled back from her granddaughter, “why don’t you tell me what you have planned for your birthday tomorrow?”

Shock propelled Dag forward and out of hiding. Unable to stop himself, he stared at Kylie in offended shock. “Your birthday is tomorrow? But you never mentioned this to me.”

Esther looked from Kylie to Dag and back again. “Bubeleh, you never told your boyfriend about your birthday? How is he supposed to get you a present if he doesn’t even know the date?”

Kylie looked as if she couldn’t decide who to glare at, so she settled on staring at the ceiling. “Dag doesn’t have to get me a gift. And I’ve had a lot on my mind. It just hasn’t been a priority.”

“I don’t care how important this work of yours is! You have to take the time to celebrate your life.” Esther patted her granddaughter on the cheek and stepped back. “Go put on some lipstick. I’m taking you out to dinner. Both of you.”

“That’s really not necessary. I don’t even—”

“Lipstick. Now.” Esther pressed her lips together in a stern expression and pointed to the stairs. “And maybe a dress. Or at least a blouse that doesn’t have some smart-mouthed saying on it. And a little perfume never hurt anybody!”

She had to raise her voice on the last suggestion, because Kylie had already given in and marched obediently—if with obvious reluctance—toward the stairs. Dag watched, then turned toward the woman.

“That is an impressive feat, gaining her compliance so readily,” he observed, feeling slightly dazzled. “Perhaps later you could show me how you achieved it?”

Esther turned and eyed him with speculation and a glint of humor in her dark hazel eyes. “Come with Kylie to Shavuot. If you do that, then we’ll talk.”

“Very well. I will look forward to it.” He nodded his promise.

“So will I, Dag.”

Before he could say another word, the small, elderly woman took him completely by surprise. Stretching to the top of her toes, she reached up and patted his cheek, much as she had done to Kylie. The tap packed a surprising sting coming from such a small, frail-looking human female. He found himself blinking down at her in astonishment.

“Just so you know, however,” she said with a smile. “If you hurt my little girl, I’ll make you wish your mother had died a virgin.”