Starcrossed

launched into a fit of anger. Pandora and Ariadne glanced at each other.
    “He’ll be okay,” Pandora said firmly. She shook her wrists and sent her bangles into a cascade of sparkles and jingles, almost as if she believed the cheerful sound would banish all dark thoughts.
    “It was close, but he’s healing,” Ariadne added with an optimistic face. Helen couldn’t look at either of them. The tense moment was broken by a glugging sound in Helen’s stomach, which lasted for an inordinately long time.
    “Well, you’re hungry,” Pandora said drily. “And I think you might be able to come downstairs with some help.”
    Helen was outfitted with a long terry-cloth bathrobe, which bore the logo of a popular Spanish soccer team, from Ariadne’s closet. Then, with a few more jokes about how Helen could use a little fattening up, she was carried downstairs by her two new patronesses.
    When they reached the kitchen, they were greeted with a heavenly scent blossoming off of the stove, and Helen’s stomach growled again. Hector heard the noise and cocked an eyebrow as she was deposited gently in a chair at the kitchen table. He said something to the woman who was orchestrating dinner, and she spun around to look at Helen.
    “I didn’t think you’d be joining us,” the woman said with a startled face. “I’m so glad.”
    “Thank you. And thank you again for the stuff you sent my father and me,” Helen said. She knew immediately that this was Noel Delos, and she could also tell that Noel was a normal woman without an ounce of demigod strength. A big, bubbling pot of guilt boiled over in Helen’s chest. She had threatened this fragile human in a family of super-heroes—threatened her to her son and her nephews, no less. Noel smiled knowingly at Helen’s penitent face.
    “You’re very welcome. Now, first things first. How do I contact your father to let him know you’re okay?”
    “I’d rather keep my dad out of this,” Helen replied nervously.
    “You’ve been gone all night and all day. Don’t you think he’ll be worried?”
    “He’s in Boston for the weekend. He won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
    “All right, it’s up to you, but I want you to know I think it would be better if you and your father had a long talk about all this,” Noel said with piercing eyes. Then she whirled around and got busy with dinner. Helen had the feeling that she may have been granted a stay of execution, but she wasn’t pardoned yet. “Are you ready to eat now?” Noel asked, buzzing around.
    “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry,” Helen replied truthfully.
    “It’s the heal,” Noel said, smiling at some internal thought as she laid down bread, salt, and oil in front of Helen. She poured a tall glass of milk before gesturing impatiently. “Eat. This isn’t the time to be shy, Helen. You need it.”
    Helen ripped into the bread like a medieval glutton with low blood sugar. Noel smiled again and asked Hector to go get some hard cheese out of the fridge. He grudgingly did as he was told. As he put the cheese down he made a joke about being scared to get his fingers too close to Helen’s mouth.
    “You’re one to talk,” Pandora grumbled. “Just two weeks ago I had to count the silverware after every meal to make sure you hadn’t swallowed any of it.”
    “You were healing two weeks ago?” Helen asked, and then remembered that Hector and Pandora had arrived later than the rest of the family.
    So much had happened in just a few weeks that Helen felt like every day had telescoped out into a week in itself. As she marveled at how much her life had changed, she noticed that a silence had fallen over the kitchen. Apparently, Helen had stumbled on to a touchy subject because everyone was exchanging nervous glances over her head.
    “Sorry. I don’t mean to intrude,” Helen amended quickly.
    “No, it’s fine. It’s just that Hector’s recent heal is part of something much bigger,” Noel said. “Right now, you eat.”
    At first she felt the lingering reticence of a new guest, but as soon as the lentil stew was put down in front of her, Helen’s whole being was lost in a flavor blur. She was vaguely aware of other people pulling up chairs or standing around by the stove while they tasted this or that, got themselves a plate, or just hung out to talk, but she was far too focused on the ever-changing dishes in front of her to pick individuals out of the crowd. Noel kept the food coming. A