Three Fates

the solution to the whole of it. You’ve gotten this far, after all. And speaking of that, isn’t it time someone offered to show me the Fates?”
     
     
    “I LIKE YOUR mother.”
    Malachi’s lips twitched as he watched Tia neatly turn down the bed. “She terrifies you.”
    “Just a little.” Out of habit, she switched on the white-noise maker on the bedside table.
    When she moved away to adjust her bedroom air filter, Malachi switched it back off as he did every night. She never noticed.
    “Rebecca was so happy to see her. It was a lovely thing for Jack to do, bringing her here.” Restless, Tia walked into the bath, carefully removed her hypoallergenic makeup with hypoallergenic cleanser.
    “A nice surprise for you, too,” she added when Malachi came to the doorway. “I’m sure you’ve missed her.”
    “I have, very much.” He loved to watch her this way—the tidiness of her, the pretty sweetness of her face without any trace of cosmetics. “You know what they say about Irish men.”
    “No, what do they say?”
    “They may be drunks or rebels, brawlers or poets. But to a man, they love their mothers.”
    She laughed a little, stood there opening and closing the top of her moisturizer. “You’re not any of those things.”
    “What an insult. I can drink and brawl with the best of them. Sure I’ve got some rebel in me. And . . . do you want poetry, Tia?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve never had any.”
    “Do you want it quoted or made up?”
    She wanted to smile, was sure she could, but it collapsed on her. “Don’t do this.”
    “What?” Baffled, and a little alarmed, he stepped to her. And she stepped away.
    “I’m not going to make it difficult for you.”
    “That’s good to know,” he said carefully. “Why are you crying?”
    “I’m not crying.” She sniffed. “I won’t cry. I’ll be reasonable and understanding, just like I always am,” she said and set the moisturizer on the counter with a snap.
    “Maybe you should tell me what you’re going to be reasonable and understanding about.”
    “Don’t laugh at me. Knowing people laugh at me doesn’t make it any less horrible.”
    “I’m not laughing at you. Sweetheart . . .” He reached out for her and she smacked his hand aside.
    “Don’t call me that, and don’t touch me,” she added as she pushed by him and strode back into the bedroom.
    “Don’t call you sweetheart, don’t touch you. You won’t cry and you’ll be reasonable and understanding.” His head began to throb. “Give me a clue here.”
    “We’re almost done. I know it, and I’ll finish it out. This is the only important thing I’ve done in my life, and I won’t leave it unfinished.”
    “It’s not the only important thing you’ve done.”
    “Don’t placate me, Malachi.”
    “Damned if I’m placating you, and bloody hell if I’m going to stand here arguing without any idea what I’m arguing about. Christ, I’m getting one of your headaches.” He scrubbed his hands roughly over his face. “Tia, what is it?”
    “You said you should have told me before. Maybe you should. Maybe, even though I knew, it would have been better that way.”
    “Told you . . . ah.” And he remembered what he’d been about to say before Cleo had interrupted them that morning. He frowned, jammed his hands into his pockets. “You know, and it pisses you off?”
    “I’m not allowed to have feelings?” she tossed back. “I’m not allowed to be angry. Just grateful? Grateful that we’ve had these weeks together. Well, I am grateful and I’m angry. I’ll be furious if I want.” She glanced around. “God! There must be something to throw.”
    “Don’t think about it,” he advised. “Just grab the first thing and let it fly.”
    She snatched up her hairbrush, heaved it. It cracked solidly against the jewel-toned shade of her bedside lamp. “Damn it! Damn it, that was Tiffany. Can’t I even have a successful temper tantrum?”
    “You should have thrown it at me.” He grabbed her arms before she could go clean up the mess she’d made.
    “Just let me go.”
    “I’m not going to do that.”
    “I’m stupid.” The fight went out of her. “All I’ve done is embarrass myself and break a beautiful lamp shade. I should’ve taken a Xanax.”
    “Well, you didn’t, and I prefer fighting with a woman who’s not hazy on some tranquilizer. These are real feelings, Tia, and you’ll have to deal with them. Whether you want mine or not, you’ll